Madonna Jarrett (Brisbane, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Hansard source

I'd like to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land on which we gather today, the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people. I also acknowledge the traditional owners of the land from which I'm visiting, the Yuggera and Turrbal people, and I pay my respects to elders past, present and emerging.

Each of you has a story that shapes who you are. Today I'm going to tell you mine. It began in a small workers' cottage in the then blue-collar suburb of Paddington, but it has brought me to this grand people's House, Australia's Parliament House. Our inner-city home was really noisy. There were eight siblings, seven sisters and a brother, along with a few foster kids that came and went. At times there were mattresses on the floors, and sometimes sheets hung for privacy, as the bedrooms were made to accommodate children needing a safe roof over their heads. We wore hand-me-downs. We shared books. Fences did not define who we played with or where we played. We knew our neighbours by name and their daily routines. The day Mrs Smith passed away—you will remember this, Mum and Dad—she left her milk on the verandah. She never did that.

With Mum tending to all the kids and Dad working long hours, I stepped up early. Almost daily I did the after-school shop runs for Mum, or I dropped off to our neighbours Mr Biffin's homegrown chokos or Mrs Conti's home-hatched eggs, which I collected at the same time. Mum's childhood meant she missed out on a full education, and, unfortunately, she didn't reach her dream of becoming a teacher. So she did everything she could to make sure we had the opportunity she didn't.

First was Petrie Terrace kindy. I found it confusing, I could run the streets all day with the other kids, yet our skin colour meant we walked through different doors into the typical low-rise wooden building that was our kindy, and, during outside play, we were separated by the wire fence. My primary school, Rosalie Primary School, was home to many new immigrants, especially from Europe. We conversed in broken English or with gestures, but they transformed our suburbs with delicious cuisine and Mediterranean-style homes that didn't fit in but were cooler than the wooden structures that I grew up in. They opened our school and our suburb beyond Australian borders.

At my all-girls high school, Mt St Michael's, I thrived on understanding of how the world worked, especially physics; using maths to manage a budget, bake or build; and learning that, when you mixed certain chemicals, they absolutely stunk. A few of us also fought really hard to raise support and funds for a computer. They were new back then—it says a few things, doesn't it?—and not widely available, but we saw how these would change our lives forever.

My constant curiosity was also fed at home. My da, who lived next door, collected all sorts of things: rocks, plants, coins and stamps. He often explained to me what the rocks were and what they were used for. He knew the name of every plant in his garden and the ones he couldn't grow because of the climate. He taught me that our environment is very precious and that climate impacts everything. My Mr Fixit dad let me TA him very often, and by my teens I was proficient at fixing any leaking tap, building a lamp, fixing a bike, restoring a desk or whatever it was. He never threw anything away if it could be fixed. He still doesn't. A piece of wood that is lying around is always useful for something, and I still look to fix things before I throw them away.

One period in my life that had a profound impact on me—and some people have mentioned this today—was the Bjelke-Petersen era. During this time, Queensland saw its worst expression of gerrymandering. Political and police corruption was rife. The 'can't lose' dictatorship mentality just saw so much injustice. There were almost daily scenes of First Nations people and other so-called subversives being dragged away, usually with excessive force, into police paddy vans. Women and the LGBTIQA+ community were treated as second-class citizens. The Premier, along with his working senator wife, were fierce advocates, though, of the traditional family, where mum stayed at home. They saw same-sex marriage as denigrating to marriage.

Workers also suffered. One of the most memorable and infamous times for me was the SEQEB dispute, where over 1,000 electricity workers were sacked. Mum and Dad joined the picket lines. Dad, a proud member of the Electrical Trades Union, took no wages, in solidarity with the workers. Mum and others raised money, prepared food boxes and were there with simple hugs, just to help families through these dark days. As children, we were intimidated by men who would drive beside us as we walked to school, calling out abuse or just staring us down. It took the bravery of the Fitzgerald inquiry—which saw four ministers jailed alongside a former police commissioner—and a landslide win by Wayne Goss and Labor to start righting these wrongs.

Inequality, though, remained a constant feature in my world. I worked full-time from the age of 17, other than in the six months after our twins were born—first as a radiographer and then in government. This was followed by almost 25 years in the corporate sector, working both here and overseas. Early on, actually, I thought I was going to lose my job as a radiographer when a surgeon blew up an X-ray machine. He ignored my advice to shut it down because 'I didn't know what I was talking about'. In classic form, I have been accused of being the boss's squeeze. For the record, I was not. I felt like I missed promotional opportunities, and at times I had to ask to be paid the same as the men because my husband got a good wage. Welcome to my first taste of gender inequality.

This, I knew, was wrong and unfair, and I took every opportunity I could to mentor women, encouraging them to never shy away from their strengths of compassion, kindness and empathy. I called out workplace discrimination, and I worked on gender-positive policy developments with global multilateral organisations like the OECD. I also learned a lot about leadership and standing up for civil liberties. Wayne Goss never shied away from taking on the big issues, which I saw firsthand as a young staffer.

Now, most of this took place in the wonderful seat of Brisbane, the electorate that I now have the honour and privilege to represent here in this wonderful place. I've lived most of my life in Brisbane. As I said, it's home to the Yuggera and Turrbal people. The electorate is bordered by Maiwar, the Brisbane River, and extends to Kedron Brook and the inner north-west. It takes in the CBD, which is now a mix of commercial and high-rise residential. Within one kilometre of that, there are single-plot, heritage, postwar and modern homes. There are also a growing number of six-packs and multi-unit complexes. Brisbane is dotted with parks as well as active transport routes. Over the past 30 years, Brisbane has transformed from a country town earning the nickname 'Brisvegas' to a growing metropolitan city, and the Brisbane electorate houses its heart, with its vibrant arts, culture and sports scene.

We also have more than 36,000 businesses, with a quarter of them in the professional, scientific and technology sectors. Health care, social assistance, real estate and construction make up the other third. There is pioneering technology such as quantum computing, and biomedical and sustainable energy industries.

Our community also has one of the largest student populations in the country. It is home to two of Queensland's largest and most prestigious universities—the Queensland University of Technology, my alma mater, and the University of Queensland Herston campus. It is also one of the most progressive electorates in Queensland. Brisbane supported the Voice referendum. It is growing in multicultural character and is blessed with a large LGBTIQA+ community. But, sadly, Brisbane is also blighted by homelessness and continued injustice towards Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people.

Back in 2021, while I was having a drink with an old friend, I got on my soapbox about how our community is breaking down and how social justice, equality, opportunity and intergenerational fairness were crumbling. We were losing our compassion and our care towards one another. It was at that time when many in this room will recall that our country's leader didn't hold a hose, he needed his wife to tell him how to have empathy towards women and he commented, on the Me Too march:

Not far from here, such marches, even now, are being met with bullets—but not here in this country.

On top of this, affordable health care was being undermined. I'd lived in the United States, and I didn't want people here to be like my friend Johnny, who had untreated arthritis because he had no affordable health care. Jokes were being made about water lapping at the homes of our Pacific neighbours, and I thought to myself, 'Australia's better than that.' During the conversation, it was suggested to me that I run for office. I thought about it a lot, but, in the end, it was that fear of losing our community values—a fair go for all and looking out for each other—that clinched it. So here I stand.

I am extremely grateful and humbled to be the member for Brisbane, and I have so many people to thank for getting me here. First, to the people of Brisbane who put their faith in me, whether it be the Windsor community who helped their neighbour literally drag a piano up a hill and leave it on the footpath so it wouldn't get flooded, the families who we sweated with to fill sandbags, or the elderly Barden resident to whom we sent a clean-up crew: thank you.

To Mum and Dad, Jack and Lue Camp, sitting in the back there: you gave me the knowledge and strength to live my values. Your energy and commitment to social fairness glows in me. Friends, my mum and dad are in their 80s, and, for the best part of nine months, they were almost daily features on the Paddington strip, the local shopping strip, showing me off to passers-by. You are such legends.

To my husband, John; our lads, Jack and Paddy; and Jess, also over there: you were my sounding board and my rock during the campaign. You managed to keep the house running while I was running in and out. Without you, though, I wouldn't be here, as this journey was only ever going to be ours. A special call-out to you, John, my best friend, my love, my confidant, the man who has always got my back. Everyone on this floor knows how important that is in politics.

To my sisters and my brother: I know you always have my back. To the hundreds of volunteers, some not even old enough to vote and others first timers; Chris and Lulu, two of my sisters; and the stalwarts, who were there day in, day out, hail, rain, wind or shine—there are too many to name, but, again, thank you. To my irrepressible, energetic and loyal campaign team, including my dear and long-time friend Greg, who is up there in the gallery. There was also Charli, Jack, Alana, Bri, Kate C, Paula and Ben C. You were the cog that kept the wheels turning.

To my Labor family, those on the daily phone calls, who doorknocked and provided quiet guidance in the background, especially John, the other Kate, Hayden, Hannah, Grace and Ben D—you know who you are: thank you. To my union, the United Workers Union: a big thank you. To the STA and others within our mighty union movement: thank you also. You all keep Labor true to its values and will always be there for workers, the engine of our economy. To EMILY's List, who supported and mentored me: it was invaluable. To my friend the Prime Minister: I'll leave it to you to say how long we've been friends! You and your team believed in me. You put your arms around me and you lifted me. Thank you. I can say I am so proud to be here and to be a part of your team. And, as I say as often as I can, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Looking ahead, I see a bigger and brighter Brisbane. People continue to move here in drones, and it's no wonder—but then I'm a little bias. In less than a decade, Brisbane will host the biggest sporting event in the world: the 2032 Olympic and Paralympic games. Queensland has a very proud sporting history, producing 'the King'; Madame Butterfly; and our Cathy, the golden girl—three greats from my era. But the games are more than a sporting contest; they will provide many opportunities to enrich and strengthen our community.

Labor recently committed to finding a female change facility at a large local Brisbane football club. Finally, the girls will have the same facilities as the boys. But this is more than just a building; its recognition that women in sports matter and that sports matter for women. As a swimmer and a lifesaver who trained five days a week, shared sandy beach beds and rejoiced at the nationals, I learnt so much. Through sport we learn confidence, strength, leadership and resilience. The 50 or so players who joined me that morning for the football announcement were all so excited that this means more girls will join our community and grow. And, you never know: there might be another Matilda in the waiting—another Tilly.

As Brisbane grows towards the next decade, global developments will challenge us. However, with steady leadership, I do believe we can remain focused on restoring intergenerational fairness, strengthening social cohesion and protecting our environment. This starts with implementing Labor's election reforms—I'll be biased and say especially in Brisbane.

First is housing. Ownership is tough, with many, like my sons, living at home well beyond when I did. Renting is tough. My friend Ben, who is in the gallery today, has been forced to live in eight homes since 2020, and he now lives in an area where he has no connection to his community. More people are couch surfing or rough sleeping. What Brisbane needs is more affordable and social homes across all our suburbs. We saw in the last parliament the blocking of the Housing Australia Future Fund. Frustratingly, there have been local protests against sensible development. We can do better.

We also need to set realistic and achievable goals to eradicate homelessness. This is particularly important to me. Women my age are the fastest-growing group of homeless, and I saw this while I was on the board of 3rd Space. Also, here's a little story: during the campaign, I met Karen. Karen is in her 60s, and, after fleeing domestic violence around seven years ago, she finally got her own place. This means so much. She can decorate it as hers. She can leave the dishes to tomorrow, if that's what she wants to do, and she can use the washing machine without checking first. She can live her life her way.

I'm really proud of what Labor's doing to help realise the Australian dream of owning a home. This gives people long-term security and stability and a sense of belonging. It will enable people in our communities to set down their roots and create long-lasting memories. We can't forget the renters, though, who are trapped paying the equivalent of a mortgage in rent, and I want to explore how housing policies can do more to help them.

When it comes to health, I will always stand up for Medicare. As one of eight kids, our family relied on it. I also heard many stories, while on the campaign trail, about how affordable health care is the difference between living a decent life and not living at all. While doorknocking one day, one lady cried. She thanked me and asked me to pass on her thanks to our prime minister because her best friend will now live because her cancer treatment is on the PBS and she can afford it. So I am just so proud to be standing here and saying that, down the track, we will be delivering Labor's new urgent care clinic and new Medicare mental health clinic in Brisbane. Our community will get to see a doctor for free closer to home, and they won't have to wait those long, long hours in hospital waiting rooms. I also met many young people on the campaign trail who are suffering mental health challenges. They will now have easier access to life-changing care.

Addressing climate change is also extremely important to Brisbane, and this starts with Australia becoming a renewable energy powerhouse. I truly believe Brisbane can play a leading role here. This will support our net zero targets and reduce electricity prices. Queensland is rich in critical minerals, and we are on the doorstep of Asia, which is transitioning to renewables. This creates a unique opportunity to grow our local renewable energy capabilities and manufacturing. I'd like to see more Brisbane businesses and education providers innovate and grow and build the skills that we will need for this transition.

Battery and solar power incentives will encourage the uptake of renewable energy, and that's absolutely great, but we also know renters need more support. We need to continue to look for solutions for them, including more community batteries. I call on the local LNP council to stop playing politics and stop blocking our Newmarket community battery. It was promised back in 2022, and we need it delivered.

Over the next decade, we need to see our infrastructure and renewables programs come together to create a long-lasting and sustainable footprint in Brisbane. This will need all levels of government working together on appropriate planning, community consultation, and environmental and heritage protection, including for 2032. It also includes reforms to our environmental laws, which I am proud this government is committed to.

Lastly, we need to be more inclusive. Everyone, regardless of their heritage, skin colour, sexual orientation, religion or ability, must be afforded equal rights and feel safe in our community. Not one of us is any better than the next, and no-one is entitled.

A must here is truth-telling of the historical and current injustices facing First Nations people. Our children may no longer have to walk through separate kindy doors like I had to, but there is a long way to go. The original custodians have over 65,000 years of knowledge and connection to this land which has always steered this country forward. I was reminded of this recently during a NAIDOC event, when young Sandy, probably in her early 20s, proudly shared her story and that of her forebears. This history is unique, and we should all know it, embed it, celebrate it and use it to advance reconciliation and walk together as a stronger nation. Sovereignty was never ceded.

My vision for Brisbane is grounded in realism but is also a little aspirational. We have a privileged opportunity to recalibrate generational inequality and strengthen social cohesion. Our kids deserve the same opportunities I and many in this room had. This includes opportunities for education to aspire to be what they want to be; to buy their own home, raise a family and not be burdened by excessive debt; for our daughters not to be disadvantaged; for the LGBTIQA+ community to live as their true selves; for First Nations people to genuinely feel we share their history and walk with them; for our vibrant migrant community to flourish and enrich us; for everyone to have a safe home; and for our environment to thrive.

I will be a leader who will listen and care for our community. I will be a leader who will bring us together. This will require pragmatism, respect and courage from all of us. My commitment to Brisbane is that my door is always open. Friends and colleagues, it took a community to get me here. The next chapter in my life story starts now, and the pens you all hold will help me write this.

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