Ms Witty:

I second the motion. Thank you, Mr Speaker.

I begin by acknowledging the traditional owners and custodians of the land upon which this parliament stands, the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, and I pay my respects to elders past and present. I also acknowledge the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin nation, the traditional owners of the land I'm so proud to represent. Sovereignty was never ceded.

I stand here today deeply humbled and profoundly honoured, not just as the elected member for Melbourne but as someone who lives, breathes and belongs to this remarkable city. Melbourne runs through my veins and, while I resist the classic Melburnian uniform of head-to-toe black, I leap at the chance to show visitors the soul of my home town. I'm eager to lead them down graffitied laneways, push open secret doors and step into hidden gems bursting with life, flavour and laughter. We share food that warms the heart and conversations that linger well after the plates have been cleared. That's Melbourne—surprising, vibrant and generous. I'm proud to call it home and carry the voices of my neighbours, friends and fellow community members into this parliament.

My journey to this chamber is more recent than most but, in many ways, I've been walking towards this my entire life. I've waited on tables, punched numbers in banks, been a small-business owner and rolled up my sleeves in the charity sector—always working, always learning. I've helped to raise money for social and affordable housing and I've given free nappies to families in crisis. I've witnessed far too often how systems can fail the very people they're meant to protect. But I've also seen something just as powerful: how community can rise up, surround someone in need and carry them forward with dignity and care.

The road to this parliament hasn't been smooth or simple, but every twist and every struggle has shaped me. I have a deep belief that people in politics should never chase power for its own sake. They must reach, heal and build. They must serve people, always. I believe with my whole heart that the future isn't something we wait for; it's something we create together. When I finally gave my goal shape and set my sights on becoming the member for Melbourne, I embraced it, and I was embraced wholeheartedly and without hesitation. From the very first Labor member I met to my now colleagues and the leader, the Prime Minister, I felt it in my bones. I found my team. Thank you, Labor members. Thank you, Prime Minister. You are my people, my community and now my friends.

Labor people are people who don't wait to be asked—people who act, who reach, who lift, driven by a fierce belief in fairness and the unshakable conviction that everyone deserves a fair go. Labor people saw me, supported me and stood beside me as I made my way here. To everyone who helped carry me to this point: thank you. I carry your faith in me with gratitude and determination, and I will spend every day earning it. You have shown me what it means to fight for dignity, to stand up for working people and to lead with purpose.

I am proud—deeply proud—to walk in the footsteps of those who built Medicare, expanded education and stood firm to protect the rights of workers, and now I take up that torch. Thank you to my predecessor, Adam Bandt. I acknowledge your service to our community. We all know Melbourne is a passionate and principled city, and I intend to carry that spirit of fearless advocacy grounded in Labor values.

Hey, Paul—that's my husband, who's not here tonight but is cheering me on from overseas—thanks for getting on board and finding a way to be okay with this. I know it wasn't your choice but I'm grateful for your support. My family, who are here, and my friends, thank you for grounding me. To my campaign manager, Karen Douglas, and the rest of the team—there are too many to name, but I know that you know who you are—thank you. Not just on my campaign, but for the many years before, you knocked on doors, made phone calls, delivered flyers, handed out how-to-vote cards and believed in our message of unity and justice. This moment belongs to you.

Wouldn't my dad be so proud to see me here today? Of course he would. But the truth is that making my dad—and my mum—proud was a very low bar. They were always proud of me, my older brother, BJ, and my sisters, Emma and Liz. We were brought up in a family that knew love. We knew our parents loved each other, and we knew they loved us, too. With support like that, I knew I could do anything. My parents not only showed us love but also taught us to work hard, tell the truth and never walk past someone who's been pushed aside.

I was lucky—truly lucky—to find the right kind of love in my husband, Paul. We're far from perfect, but we choose each other every day. We share a vision, we work through the mess and the joy, and together we've built a life filled with love and purpose. For us, becoming parents didn't follow the well-worn path. When our time came, we weren't blessed with an easy journey. Over 10-plus years, we endured heartache after heartache, pregnancy after pregnancy ending in loss. We grieved deeply. We searched for other ways to grow our family.

I remember one day, after a devastating loss, my mum gently said to me, 'Maybe you were meant to be a mum for all children.' At the time, her words hit a wall. I was too shattered to hear them or to let them in. The ache was too fresh, too sharp, but her words stayed with me, and slowly, as the fog of grief lifted, I opened my heart and myself to a new path. I stepped into the world of foster care, not out of ease but out of a deep-seated need to turn my pain into something positive.

Paul and I welcomed children into our home and into our hearts. Some days were beautiful. Other days tested every ounce of strength we had. But it was one day with one extraordinary boy—let's call him Mat—when everything shifted. Something in that moment changed me, redirected me and set me on the path that has led me here, to this chamber, with a heart full of purpose and a voice ready to fight for children who, through no fault of their own, have found themselves in rotten situations.

When he arrived in our care, Mat was a shy boy of 10, and he left us to live with his family as a happy 12-year-old. One day when I picked him up from school, he said, 'Sarah, can I tell you a secret?' As he usually didn't say much, I was pretty excited for him to start a conversation and excited to possibly hear a story from a day at school. 'Sure, mate. What's your secret?' Now, I'm not going to tell you what that secret was, because, No. 1, it was a secret. But, No. 2, no child should have experienced that secret. The only person I told that secret to was his caseworker.

I know that as parents we all do the best for our children, but what if, at even your best, you can't protect your child? What if, at even your best, you can't put a roof over their heads or food on the table? From that day on, I knew I had to do more to support kids like Mat and the families that love them. With every decision I've made since that day, I have always had him and kids like him in my mind, and I will continue to. With every decision I am asked to make while representing the people of Melbourne, I will always ask myself, 'What would Mat need so that he and the hundreds of children like him can grow up to be the best people they can be?' I know that, as a society, we are only as good as our weakest link. If every child gets the best start in life to be to best human they can be, we are all lifted. That's what I want for every kid in Melbourne—the Melbourne I grew up in.

I'm Melbourne through and through. I live it. I breathe it. I carry it with me wherever I go. I love every corner of this city. From the alleyways that hum with hidden music to the multicultural kitchens that feed entire communities, I love it all. Melbourne is a city of ideas, of resistance, of reinvention and of deep, enduring care. It's where I found my voice. It's where I learned to fight for what matters. It's where I fell in love, built a home and made friends who feel like family. Melbourne raised me, shaped me and showed me how powerful community can be. We are the home of the eight-hour working day and the union movement. The Victorian Trades Hall, the oldest continuously operating trades hall in the world, stands proudly in my electorate. This building isn't just bricks and mortar; it's a living monument to courage, solidarity and working-class power.

Some might say art, culture and working rights are peak Melbourne, but what about sports? You will also find us in our team colours at the 'G. Sport pulses through Melbourne's veins. We were Australia's first Olympic city, way back in 1956, and we've been showing up ever since. No matter the code, no matter the weather, we pour into our stadiums, our pubs and even our lounge rooms to support our teams. I love watching the streets around the MCG come alive, pulsing with the colour and noise and anticipation. Before the game, you'll often find me in the local Richmond pubs, soaking in the buzz as crowds gather—chanting, laughing, decked out in scarves and colours—and stream towards the 'G, where thousands come together for something bigger than themselves. You don't need a fixture to know who's playing; you just need to look around and see what people are wearing.

But Melbourne is more than just a game. We pulse with the heartbeat of live music, breathe the soul of theatre and ignite the spark of stand-up comedy. We celebrate creativity, amplify voices and carry stories that challenge, inspire and connect us all. Just as we turn up for our teams, we fill the seats for a show. We also stand strong in what we believe in. We are proud of our radical traditions. We speak up. We stand firm. We organise. We mobilise. We demand better. We don't settle for what is; we imagine what could be. And, while we are often the first to dream of a better world, we are just as often the first to act when we see injustice.

I believe in an Australia where every person has a safe and secure home, education is free, health care is universal and no-one is left behind—an Australia where every child, no matter the postcode, can live a full, free and fantastic life. I believe in a democracy where truth is spoken, where First Nations voices are heard and where climate justice is not an afterthought but a foundation. I believe government can, and must, be a force for fairness, for equality, for hope and for transformation.

The challenges we face are real, and so are the opportunities. Most of Melbourne's high-density suburbs sit right here in the seat of Melbourne, and that places us at the very heart of the housing crisis. The crisis didn't happen overnight. It is the result of years of underinvestment by previous governments and the blocking of good housing policies, which has slowed progress and kept supply dangerously low. But we can't get stuck blaming the past. We must confront this crisis now with honesty and urgency and courage.

Inner Melbourne cannot become a playground for the wealthy, a place where only the privileged can afford to live. That's not the city we love. That's not the city we believe in. Every person in every family—every young person starting out, every older person who's worked their whole life—deserves the dignity of a safe, secure and affordable home. Housing is not a luxury; it's a human right.

Today, it's harder than ever to get into the housing market. Skyrocketing prices and shrinking availability have locked countless people out of the chance to own their own home or even find a secure rental. This is not just a setback; it's a crisis that threatens the fabric of our community. It's simple economics. We have a supply-and-demand problem. Demand is rising, but supply hasn't kept up. The failure has been decades in the making and puts profit in front of people. I am glad to be in a government that is determined to change that.

Homelessness is the harshest symptom of this failure. How do we stop someone from being homeless? It might sound simple, but the only answer is to give them a home. Often safe houses are all that's needed—a place where people can cook a meal, wash up and simply feel secure. Without that foundation, everything else—health, work, education—becomes so much harder. This is our moment to fix the system to ensure that no-one is left out in the cold and every person has the chance to call a place their own, because a home is more than a roof; it's the foundation of hope, security and belonging.

Just as people are being priced out of homes, we also risk being locked out of a liveable planet. We must treat the climate emergency as the defining issue of our time, not just with policy but with justice. That means a just transition for workers. It means listening to science and acting with urgency, and it means ensuring that the benefits of the clean energy future are shared.

We must fight for fully funded public education, from early childhood through to TAFE and university, because every child in every suburb deserves the best start. And we must recommit to equality—not as a slogan, not as a feel-good promise but as a lived reality. We must demand it, defend it and embed it in every workplace, every classroom, every law—equality for women, for migrants, for queer Australians, for First Nations people, for people with disabilities—because equality doesn't take; it gives. It lifts, it includes and it liberates. It builds a stronger, fairer country for all. Equality cannot be negotiable.

To represent Melbourne in this place is not just an honour; it's a calling. I do not pretend that I stand here alone. I bring with me the voices of renters demanding justice, of people demanding climate action and of communities demanding to be heard, not managed. We are building something bigger than one person. We are building a future where no-one is forgotten and everyone belongs. That is the future I will fight for, side by side with the people of Melbourne, because building our future together is what I am here to do. It's our purpose. Thank you.

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