Parliament is a big place with lots of long corridors and lots of people. Everyone's busy. Everyone's rushing from place to place, trying to fit in too many meetings each day. The member for Indi, Dr Helen Haines, is always the one who says hello as you pass her in the corridor. No matter how busy she is, she always has time to pay attention to whomever is in front of her, ask how they are and actually listen to the answer.

The overwhelming response on hearing of this attack was shock—shock that it would happen to anyone, and then shock that it was, of all people, Helen, a woman known for her kindness, her compassion, her respect for others and her dedication to representing her beloved Indi community. I'd like to thank Helen's husband, Phil, for coming to speak to us this morning. In a time of great stress for their family, he took the time to come and talk to a group of her distressed colleagues—to give us comfort, to urge us to make this terrible event count for something and to give us Helen's words: hope and change.

There has been a lot of soul searching around here in this place and in this country about how we have come to this, but the signs have been there for a long time. In the days since the attack I have heard from colleagues of their experiences: stalkers, threats, security considerations they never thought they would have to take to keep them, their family, their staff and their constituents safe. We all know that if we put certain topics on social media we'll be targeted with vile personal abuse—social media pile-ons that are in no way a debate on the policy issue being discussed.

Citizenship ceremonies are always a source of great joy—being present to watch those people who choose Australia and choose Boothby, hearing them take the oath to be good citizens and hearing their stories about why they came here: for love, for work, for study or for a safe place to raise their family. The mayor of Marion, Kris Hanna, often remarks to new citizens that in the countries they come from the closest they would get to a politician would be a glimpse of a limousine with darkened windows and a police escort but that here in Australia we are all much more accessible—keen to engage. You can talk to us after the ceremony. You can come and see us in our office. You'll see us down at the shops. You'll see us taking our children to school or supporting a local sports team. This is precious. Unless we can engage with our constituents we can't properly represent them. And unless they can talk to us, how will we be able to help them?

While this week we are all in shock, it's important to reflect on the words Phil Haines said to us: hope and change. The vile social media, the misinformation and personal abuse not only affects us and our staff. They also affect other readers, and I can't imagine they're making the person posting them happy. The anger they spur drives division and despair. And that's the social media business model: they make money off our misery. This week, as we reel from the shock of the attack on one of our most beloved colleagues, social media has barely taken a breath. The abuse continues. Sometimes it even incorporates references to the attack. And some media commentators have taken the pause in the noise as an opportunity to fight back against calls for civility.

What we say matters. How we say it matters. In a world where there is so much constant input, so much noise, it is tempting to go further and further to be heard above the clamour. But what we say matters. What we say in this place, what the media says, what is said on social media matters, because you never know when the person who hears or reads your rhetorical flourish is already on the edge, is already distressed, and might take what you say literally and act on it. So as we reflect on our beloved colleague Helen and send best wishes to her and her family, as we thank the bystanders and the first responders who saved her life and as we send our thoughts to her staff, no doubt traumatised by what has happened to their boss just outside their workplace, I'd encourage all of us in this place and outside to reflect on what we personally can do to protect the country we value—a country that is safe for all of us, a country based on an open democracy where the community has a sense of commitment and ownership of that democracy. The kind, thoughtful compassion that Helen shows everyone is how we all want to be treated, and surely that is the country we wanted. We look forward to seeing Helen back in this chamber, advocating for the community and the country she loves.