House debates
Wednesday, 23 July 2025
Governor-General's Speech
Address-in-Reply
10:36 am
Milton Dick (Speaker) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
Before I call the honourable member for Deakin, I remind the House that this is the honourable member's first speech, and I ask the House to extend to him the usual courtesies.
Matt Gregg (Deakin, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
I acknowledge the traditional owners of my electorate, the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin nation, and pay my respects to elders past, present and emerging, as I do the traditional owners of this place, the Ngunnawal people.
I rise today not with self-importance but with a sense of duty. To be elected to this House by the people of Deakin is a profound honour—one I will never take for granted. This is not a platform for ego but a call to serve. First, I want to thank those who made this moment possible. I'm grateful to the people of Deakin for placing their trust in me and in the Labor Party. Every day, I will strive to honour that trust and to do my bit to help build a better, fairer future for our community and for Australia as a whole.
My presence in this chamber follows an amazing grassroots campaign powered by incredible volunteers and supporters, including campaign manager Michael McGoldrick, field coordinator Donna McKinnon, our dedicated local campaign committee and other wonderful volunteers. They were the heart of the effort that brought me here today. We had no war chest. We had no paid staff. We operated out of a decommissioned motel bar. Their conviction, courage and shared purpose made this victory possible. They gave us their days, their nights and their weekends for something bigger than any of us individually. They made this happen. Special thanks to those who helped us—particularly me—sharpen our phone banking skills. For me, as someone who's not naturally inclined to interrupt people at dinnertime, it did take some practice, but it was worth it in the end. Still, give me a street stall, a doorknock or a market day any day of the week.
Our opponents had all the phone boxes and billboards in the area, but we had hundreds of local residents and businesses allow us to put up our little campaign signs in front of their premises, which I think is a gesture far more powerful than any paid ad. Our campaign wasn't about handing out branded shopping bags, not just because we couldn't afford them but because our strategy was to get out into the community and talk to people about what matters to them. It was about listening with curiosity, sincerity, empathy and respect, including for those who held different views from our own.
We were, of course, bolstered by Labor's suite of positive, well-thought-out policies that responded to the concerns of people in our electorate and painted a positive path forward. Thank you to the Labor Party more broadly, including those in this room, that contributed to those policies. I'd also like to thank the Prime Minister for believing in our effort and coming down to Deakin many, many times when the media was really asking, 'Why bother?' Not only did his visits have a direct impact but he reminded our local campaign that perseverance and authenticity still matter and that staying focused on people, not the noise, can still cut through.
I extend that appreciation to the Deputy Prime Minister, to the Treasurer, to Senator Raff Ciccone and to ministers including Senator Penny Wong and the members for Hotham, Ballarat, Scullin and Fraser. Thank you for lending your voices, your time and your belief in our case. It really made all the difference.
I'm also appreciative of the support I received from Michael Donovan and the SDA across two campaigns and his tireless work representing some of the country's youngest and most vulnerable workers. Thank you. I also want to thank the Victorian Society of Labor Lawyers and acknowledge my former colleagues at Slater & Gordon, especially the extraordinary women who continued to support and mentor me over many years. It made me a stronger advocate and I think even a better person. So, thank you. That culture of intellectual rigour, constructive debate and mutual respect shaped me. It provided a template for the kind of working environment I want to create in this new chapter of my life.
I also want to take this opportunity to thank my family. Without them, I wouldn't be here today. I particularly want to pay tribute to my mum, who's in the chamber today and whose love and support have been unwavering. She taught me to think critically, to speak up and to never walk past a problem I could help fix. For most of my formative years she raised my brother and me as a single mum, juggling work as a full-time schoolteacher, with the trials and tribulations of raising two fairly rambunctious young men. Because of her, I became a lawyer and my brother a carpenter, just as we dreamed of when we were eight and 10 years old—with probably a little bit more imagination than realism but no shortage of belief that if we worked hard enough we could achieve it. She also inspired me to follow in her footsteps and become a schoolteacher, a career that has been the highlight of my working life and from which I've learnt so much.
For my mum and stepdad, politics wasn't their natural world, but they made it theirs for me. They rolled up their sleeves for two campaigns and did it out of love, putting countless hours into our campaign, and that support is something I will always carry with me.
My involvement in the Labor Party began in 2010, volunteering for former Labor member for Deakin Mike Symon—knocking on doors, putting up bunting at 2.30 in the morning and all those other jobs normally given to 18- to 25-year-olds during a campaign, happily leaving the argy-bargy to others. I never imagined that one day it would be my face on those campaign posters. But over time I realised I couldn't stay on the sidelines. In 2022 I put up my hand to contest the seat of Deakin for the first time, achieving a narrow defeat. But I learned more from that narrow defeat than I could have ever learned from an easy win. I tried again in 2025, with the support of local branch members, and this time we made it.
What drove me to hand out flyers in 2010 and what drives me now is a belief in the power of public service and in the idea that politics can still be a force for good, that it can be measured not just by slogans and headlines but by real, tangible improvements in people's lives. We live in a time that demands a seriousness of purpose. The challenges before us—economic, social, environmental and geopolitical—are complex and fast moving. At times the temptation can be to retreat—to become reactive, performative and paralysed. But we have to resist that. Our job in this place is to rise to the moment, to face complexity with clarity, to govern not for the next news cycle but for the next generation. We must continue to address the big challenges of our time—education, productivity, the provision of care, and environmental sustainability—with long-term resolve.
In Deakin I see these challenges play out every day. At our local footy clubs I hear about players who have had to move hours away, not because they wanted an opportunity to play on the field or wanted higher pay but because they couldn't afford a place to live in our part of the world. These aren't isolated stories by any stretch of the imagination. For most of my lifetime, the past 30 years, that great Australian dream—the chance to live, work, raise a family and contribute to the community you love—has become increasingly impossible to realise. That dream has been a defining aspect of Deakin for a very long time—families calling our suburbs home from generation to generation. When you go to football clubs and other societies you see the same familiar surnames on the walls and in the old photos. But that is starting to fade away. It's an erosion of that sense of community and security that we came to take for granted. It's an erosion that is fast becoming one of the great social and economic tests of our time. That is why I'm so supportive of and excited about the government's bold and necessary efforts to address housing supply and affordability—because, when people can't live where they feel like they belong, community itself begins to fray.
I also believe that Australia must remain a place that makes things. We cannot manufacture everything all the time—we're part of the global economy—but we must be capable of responding to shocks, of pivoting, of innovating. With the right policy settings, we can foster a modern manufacturing sector that's smart, agile and resilient—a sector where entrepreneurs and small businesses can access capital, support and cutting-edge technology through manufacturing hubs and industry programs so they can test new ideas in a supportive ecosystem whilst also continuing to open pathways to allow more people to participate in these opportunities through skills, training and lifelong learning.
That brings me to education, a subject that's very close to my heart. Not only am I the proud product of public education; I've taught in public schools, specialist schools, in the country and at a university, and what I know without any shadow of a doubt is that education changes lives. It builds confidence. It builds capacity. It opens opportunities. Every child in Deakin, every child in Australia, deserves access to world-class education, no matter their postcode or background. Every adult deserve the opportunity to continue learning and growing throughout their life, and every teacher deserves the respect and resources to do the job well. That's why I'm proud to become part of a government that has put every Australian public school on a path to full and fair funding.
Recently, I have heard deep concerns by members of my community about the impact that social media is having on health and wellbeing and on civil discourse. Teachers see it in the classroom. Some of the toughest teachers I have ever worked with have felt they needed to leave the profession, harassed with misogynistic and other antisocial behaviours like never before, which were inspired by, let's say, bad actors publishing their ill-conceived thoughts on social media. Young people themselves feel it in their own sense of self-worth. They know something is wrong.
We must continue to meet the challenges posed by social media and the landscape it has created, not with panic but with serious, thoughtful action. Our goal should be a digital world build on dignity, confidence and inclusion, where harmful content is sidelined rather than mainstreamed. Adults who wish to engage in that content within the bounds of the law may do so, but it should not define or diminish the experience of everyone else, everywhere, all the time. The relentless push for user engagement, exploiting vulnerabilities in the human brain—particularly those of our young people—to keep us logged in so they can sell more ads has to be tempered by a genuine obligation to protect individuals from unreasonable harm, just as we expect of any other industry or workplace. Commendable work has already been done in this place, but protecting our young people and upholding reasonable community standards will require continued vigilance and a sustained, principled response.
Deakin is a vibrant and diverse electorate. We're home to an incredibly broad array of sporting clubs, volunteer associations, inclusion organisations, conservation and history societies, Dungeons & Dragons competitions, choirs, places of worship, theatres and many other clubs. Ours is a community that is active, generous and engaged, where there is truly something for everyone. It also has strong and vibrant diaspora communities whose stories are woven into our social fabric. These are communities for whom events thousands of kilometres away are not abstract; they're deeply personal. These connections remind us that Australia's global engagement matters. We must remain committed to principled international engagement and to being a trustworthy and constructive partner promoting peace, mutual understanding, prosperity and sustainability within a rules-based global order. At home, fairness must remain our guiding principle defining our reforms and shaping our national identity.
So much of what we do in this place is shaped by culture, not just rules, and you can see that from a cursory look at our Constitution. The culture of politics can either lift people or wear them down. We need to keep asking, 'What kind of culture are we building here?' The Australian people deserve a politics that reflects their better instincts, that doesn't insult their intelligence or play on fears but speaks to their hopes. I will do everything I can to contribute to that kind of politics, not because it's easy but because it's necessary.
Before I close, I will make a short reflection. My great-great-uncle Jack turned 106 last week. Born in 1919, he has witnessed the Great Depression, World War II and, in what we now call the Deakin electorate, the transformation from orchards and clay pits to many of the suburbs we now call home. His perspective reminds me that change is constant and our communities have always navigated it. The question is whether that change is fair, whether it's inclusive and future focused, and whether we're making decisions that serve both the present and the generations still to come. That's the kind of change I believe in—change that builds rather than divides, strengthens our communities and leaves future generations with a society they can thrive in, not just inherit. That's my commitment: not to be perfect but to be principled; not to win every argument but to bring good faith and a constructive approach to each one; not to chase headlines but to work diligently for the people of Deakin and for the country we all share.
Milton Dick (Speaker) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
Before I call the honourable member for Banks, I remind the House that this is the honourable member's first speech and I ask the House to extend to him the usual courtesies.
10:53 am
Zhi Soon (Banks, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
It is the honour of my life to stand in this house as the representative for the electorate of Banks. It is the electorate I grew up in, the area I live in and the place where I am raising my own family. Banks is located on the lands of the Bidjigal people. I'm so pleased to be able to recognise, in this great house, their culture and the custodianship of the lands, air and waterways of Banks, alongside the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people of this region.
I would like to take you back to the night of 18 August 1989, to a small house in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. That night, as a three-year-old boy, I asked my parents why all our things were packed. My parents said to my sister and me that we were going to Australia. The next day would prove to be the most important day of my family's life. I'm told I would go on to repeat to myself for most of that evening, as kids do, the word 'Australia, Australia, Australia', unsure about what lay ahead.
My parents had chosen to come to this great southern land in search of new opportunities for the family but with an ever-present concern as to whether they and their children would be accepted. In particular, like so many migrants to this great country, they sought to give their children the best education possible, in the hope that that would make our lives easier than the ones they had experienced with their families but also to contribute to their new home.
We arrived into the arms of family in Sydney—all of whom are up there in the gallery—spending the first year of our new lives in Hurstville before moving to Revesby, where our family home would be. I started school at Revesby Public School and finished off primary at Picnic Point Public School. I then went to Hurlstone Agricultural High School, where I not only had a great conventional education but an education about the land and the importance of agriculture. I am also the proud product of public education.
I had a childhood in the nineties and the 2000s, soundtracked by 'Simply the Best', as the rugby league roared across the telly in the winter and we heard the voice of Richie Benaud in his commentary on the cricket in the summer. I once ate 20 oranges in a single sitting while watching a test match, much to my mother's bemusement. I also spent countless hours at Bankstown Basketball Stadium, imagining myself as a future NBL or NBA star, despite my smallish stature, and on the tennis courts across the area, preparing for my never-to-come debut at Rod Laver Arena. I could also be found, air guitar in hand, pretending I was part of Powderfinger, You Am I or Something for Kate.
It was a childhood rich in diversity. My sister and I were welcomed into the households of families of backgrounds from all around the world. They took us in and treated us as their own. Whether they came from Egypt, like the late Mrs Zammit, Lebanon, like the Abrahams, Vietnam, like the Tans, India, like the Vengurlekars, or otherwise, they showed me that multiculturalism was not just a word but a way of life. It involved sharing food, sharing traditions, sharing hardships and sharing laughter. One moment I was eating a devon sandwich, the next a curry laksa, a kibbeh, a banh xeo or a panipuri. I'm a proud Asian Australian. I'm a proud Malaysian Australian. I'm a proud Chinese Australian. But, most of all, I am a proud Australian.
I was lucky enough to attend university, where I studied law and a broad range of subjects, from political science and international relations to economics. During uni I had a range of jobs—everything from putting up Christmas decorations in a shopping centre to serving food at a football stadium and from shouting, 'Out!' as a tennis linesperson to working as a management consultant. Since then I've had the privilege of a career that has taken me from the prime minister's office here in this house to serving as a diplomat in Afghanistan and working with governments, not-for-profits and businesses all around the world on the application of behavioural economics and improving education standards globally.
In Afghanistan I saw firsthand the horrors of war and conflict. I learnt the importance of having trusted institutions, of combating corruption and of the basics of economic growth. I also learnt about large-scale poverty and the delivery of humanitarian assistance. More broadly, though, in my time in diplomacy, I saw how international agreements were negotiated and the work of our security services and defence force. I saw our alliances in practice and what they mean. Through my time in behavioural economics and education, I've had the honour of travelling to dozens of countries, seeing firsthand how different governments do things. It gave me ideas on how Australia, as great as it is, could do things better. Having high expectations of your government is a good thing.
I've also had the pleasure of working with teachers, school leaders and education policy experts across our great country. I have seen their hard work in action, the profound role they play in our communities and the lengths they go to to make sure no child is left behind. I've also seen their innovation, creativity and empathy. This extends to teachers in regional, rural and remote communities. Unsurprisingly, the research is clear that the biggest in-school impact on a child's outcomes is their teachers. Your work will never go unnoticed in this House.
Whilst I've had the opportunity to travel around our country and to places around the world, I live about a five-minute drive from the house I grew up in. My parents are still in Revesby, albeit on the other side of it now, and my sister is close by. We are now raising our own families in the electorate of Banks. As I told all those I saw at early voting or on election day, I drive the same streets you do, I shop at the same grocery stores, I eat at the same restaurants, I go to the same doctors and hospitals and I'm about to experience, as a parent, the same early childhood education and schools you do. Your problems are my problems, your hopes are my hopes and your joys are my joys.
As a new member, you get asked what you believe in. For the more academically inclined, I am largely a Rawlsian; I subscribe to the beliefs of the great John Rawls and his principles of justice. What that means is I believe we should have systems of government that, no matter what circumstances you are born into, allow people to live happy, healthy and successful lives, and a society that is productive and supports each other, understanding that true achievement is one that is shared and widespread. I also believe strongly in aspiration. Wanting better for you and your family is to be supported. We must have intergenerational mobility, learning from the research of people like Raj Chetty about the barriers to it and what can be done to facilitate it.
I'm also a big believer in social capital, in the value derived from social connections and community. My friend and former colleague David Halpern often refers to this social capital as 'the hidden wealth of nations'. I also share Bob Putnam's views on the importance of social trust not only for social cohesion but as a foundation for economic growth. Social policy is economic policy, and vice versa.
I'm also a great believer in making government more human. People are not just numbers and we should ensure we have the systems in place to reflect that. We should make government processes easier for people to navigate and demonstrate compassion in our delivery. We can strike the balance between fiscal responsibility, accountability, transparency and humanity. Often governments have sound strategic visions for their policy agenda but do not give enough thought to their implementation or how people experience said policy. The details matter.
I'm a person who believes strongly in evidence based or informed policymaking. We should rely on robust evidence to guide our decision-making. Where we know what works, we should adopt. Where we don't, we should try and evaluate. As governments, we need to be humble in recognising what we do and do not know and what we do and do not do well. We must test, learn and adapt.
Another thing you get asked about as a new member is what you want to contribute. First and foremost is my commitment to the people of Banks. Whether you live in Milperra, Revesby, Panania, East Hills, Padstow, Picnic Point, Riverwood, Narwee, Punchbowl, Roselands, Penshurst, Oatley, Lugarno, Mortdale, South Hurstville, Hurstville Grove, Carss Park, Kyle Bay, Connells Point or Blakehurst, I will work day and night to ensure that your voices are heard, that you have the services you need and that government is focused on improving your lives. As I've told every person who has walked through the Banks electorate office since I have been elected, that office is not mine but yours. It is the community's office, and I hope to use it to make the lives of every single person in the electorate better. My campaign slogan was Because You Matter, and I really mean it.
I'm also deeply passionate about education. Education is transformational. It was my life and has been for generations. But my passion for education runs deeper than overarching statements, understanding what makes good education and how we can translate what we know from research about effective teaching and learning into classrooms around our country. This means supporting teachers and school leaders, equipping them with the tools to support generations of kids to explore what they are good at, what they are interested in and what is productive to support our continued growth and development as a country.
I see Australia's potential as an education superpower, one that is a world leader and is at the cutting edge of teaching practice, the adoption of technology and student empowerment and agency. This is not only in our schools but in our early education centres and our higher education institutions, including universities and TAFEs. Good education policy is good economic policy. I can remember the name of every single teacher I've had since kindergarten. That is because of the profound effect they've had on my life.
I also believe we must think about economic policy more creatively than we have in the past. We can do more as government to promote well-functioning markets. There is comprehensive research by economists like Alvin Roth on how to make markets more effective. We should look to intervene in order not only to prevent market failures but also to boost efficiency and productivity in different markets. We should also explore how we can use data held by government more effectively to support business growth. Do we have information that we can share to equip a small-business owner with data to inform their business decisions and to increase their likelihood of success? Equally, can we equip consumers with more data to help support them with their decision-making? I mentioned previously my interest in social capital. We can also do more to explore how this can be utilised to understand and drive economic productivity.
I'm also deeply passionate about Australia in the global context. Having served as an Australian diplomat, I know how important Australia's voice and actions can be on the international stage. We have a role to play demonstrating how people of different backgrounds, creeds and interests can come together, living peacefully and harmoniously together. Australia is respected by the international community. We can be leaders galvanising action on issues such as climate change and trade cooperation, addressing human rights violations and ending conflicts. Whilst we are not a big country by population, we are a great one. We are uniquely placed in the Asia-Pacific. We have strong relationships in our region but also across the world, allowing us to be a leader—something we should continue to embrace. I have always believed that a threat to peace and security anywhere is a threat to peace and security everywhere. This is why international relations and diplomacy are so important.
In order to be here, I have stood on the shoulders of giants. I would first like to thank the people of Banks for entrusting me to represent you at federal parliament and to be your champion in accessing the services and support you need. I would like to pay tribute to David Coleman, the previous member for Banks. Thank you for your service to the community and the work of you and your staff over the years. I would like to pay special tribute to Daryl Melham, who was the member for Banks for 23 years. Daryl might not remember this but I first met him as a year 6 student from Picnic Point primary school in this House. Daryl has only ever asked one thing of me, and that was to be myself. Daryl, I know you couldn't be here today in person, but we did it.
Thank you to the countless volunteers that helped support the campaign in Banks. There are simply too many individuals to name them all, but I would like to recognise some people who made particularly important contributions over the course of our campaigns in 2022 and 2025. My sincere thank you to the Banks Labor federal electoral council leadership, namely Andrew Ogden, Noreen Whittaker, Karno Gangopadhyay and Peter Gayton.
I would also like to recognise the Labor stalwarts in Banks: the Melham family, Linda Downey, Alan Ashton—and the whole Ashton family—Ian Stromborg, John Rodwell, Morris Iemma, Kevin Greene, John Choueifate, the Gambian family and the Bai family. There are also wonderful elected officials in Banks that have supported me: Mayor Bilal El-Hayek, deputy Mayor Karl Saleh, counsellors David Walsh, Kathryn Landsberry, Elaina Anzellotti, Leon Pun, Gerard Hayes and my new colleague, the member for Barton, during her time in local council. There were also many volunteers that kept on showing up, time after time: Derek Russell, Michael Warner, Vince Smith, Aaron Choy, Mary Studdert, Jaden Kelly, Graeme Wilkinson, Margaret and Patrick Brady, Chloe Walsh, Wendy and Kim Stevenson, Sue Wyatt, Paul Judge, Margaret Hermann, Gerry Selvaraj, Andrew Galuzzo, Bethany Pankhurst, Kate Rainbird, Veronica Ficarra, Matt McDonald Ronnie, Simon Byrnes, Roy Cho and Ronnie Wang. I can see many of you up there today. We did it, thank you!
Also, I send a massive shout-out to the team from the Riverwood Community Centre, who are here today. Every time I visit your centre it reminds me of the greatness of multiculturalism in our community. Thank you for coming. I'd also like to recognise the Rotary Club of Padstow and the Lions Club of Lugarno.
My thanks also goes out to the mighty union movement, with special thanks to the United Workers Union, the Community and Public Sector Union, the Financial Sector Union and the Electrical Trades Union. Thank you, also, to the whole team at the Revesby Workers Club for all your support and for flying the flag for working people in South-West Sydney.
I would also like to express my gratitude to the New South Wales Labor head office and the national secretariat, particularly Dominic Ofner, George Simon, David Dobson, and Paul Erickson.
Thank you also to the Young Labor movement whose hard work has helped me and so many in this chamber.
To not only Thomas Arthur, who led the 2025 Banks campaign, but also to Declan Davis and Thomas Gao who led my campaign in 2022: for your intellect, tireless work and commitment, I will forever be grateful. You were the architects of our success. I look forward to seeing your amazing careers ahead. Thank you also to Teryn Crick for all of your support with the campaign.
My sincere gratitude goes to my colleagues in the federal caucus for their encouragement and support, both during the election and since. This gratitude includes the Prime Minister, who came to Banks during the campaign, as well as the many ministers who came out to campaign alongside me during the campaign and who have visited me since. Also, thank you to my New South Wales state parliament and ministerial colleagues, including the Premier Chris Minns and the member for East Hills, Kylie Wilkinson, for all of your support.
Now, for my family. To my parents, Beow Hong and Ee Lay, you have shown my sister and me boundless love and we are who we are because of you. You worried, before we came to Australia, whether we would be accepted. Hopefully me speaking here today in this House and the achievements of your daughter are testament to the fact that we have. To my sister, Dr. Yin-Lan Soon: you are my hero. Thank you for always being here for me.
To my aunties Barbara and Meilin, to my uncle Yeow Leng and my late uncle Nelson, to my cousins Wayne, Ryan, Stacey, Lennox and Aubrey, to my in-laws—the Smith, Lawrence and MacPherson families, to my brother-in-law, Kevin, to my nieces, Elinore and Abigail, and to my lifelong friends Scott Walters, Wilson Kwok, Victor Hua, Edwin Ho, Jerry Lee, Kim Nguyen, Henry Huynh, Stefan Heap, Rey Reodica, Ronny Azzi and, and Chris Kazanis, as well as the rest of my family and friends in Australia and Malaysia: you have been with me every step of the way. Thank you
To my partner, Bridget: you inspire me every day with your kindness, intelligence, can-do attitude and sense of humour. Thank you for your incredible and unwavering support. To our lovely little girl, Dorothy: you mean the world to us. Dorothy is named after the great Labor senator Dorothy Tangney, her fifth cousin, or great aunt, as we like to say, and the first woman elected to the Australian Senate. What we do, we do for you, Dorothy.
Sharon Claydon (Newcastle, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
Before I call the honourable member for Barton, I remind the House that this is the honourable member's first speech, and I ask that the House extend to her the usual courtesies.
11:18 am
Ash Ambihaipahar (Barton, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
I rise in this chamber with deep humility and enormous gratitude as the newly elected member for Barton. Before I begin, I wish to acknowledge the traditional custodians of the land this parliament meets on, the Ngunnawal and Ngambri peoples. I pay my respects to elders past, present and emerging and to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples here today. I also acknowledge the Bidjigal people of the Eora nation, who are the traditional custodians of the land I have the privilege to represent, the seat of Barton. These lands were never ceded. They hold the wisdom of over 65,000 years of continuous connection to land, water, sky and spirit. This history is not behind us; it lives with us. And it reminds us that the work of truth-telling and justice is far from complete. This always was and always will be Aboriginal land.
I want to acknowledge my predecessor and mentor, the Hon. Linda Burney. Your service to the people of Barton and to this nation, as a proud Wiradjuri woman and a trailblazing parliamentarian, has been profound. Your advocacy for First Nations peoples has shaped this country's moral conscience. I will walk in your footsteps with awe and admiration. I wish you well for the next chapter of your life and thank you for your support.
I also want to congratulate my fellow new members of parliament. I know we will all work together to ensure this parliament is defined by unity, by courage and by decency. We are all part of the most diverse parliament in this nation's history. We should be proud to say as much, but we should also understand the duty that representing that diversity bears. It requires empathy, compassion and humility. It requires an understanding that service to others underpins this job.
I am lucky enough to have been raised by a family that instilled this ethic in me. I was raised in the electorate of Barton. My story is written in the streets of Hurstville, the parks of Kogarah and the laneways of Arncliffe. I stand here as a member of the House of Representatives with Papua New Guinean heritage and as the daughter of a Tamil Sri Lankan mother. While my mother completed her studies in Papua New Guinea and became the first female psychiatrist there, I was raised by my uncle Thiru, her brother. He was a young, single man in his 20s, with thick, slick hair, a leather jacket and a cigarette permanently perched between his lips—not your typical father figure, some say. But he showed up for me every single day.
We didn't do it alone. A Maltese hospital cleaner introduced him to the Bezzina family of Narwee, who became family. Then came the Colubriales, an Italian family from Elwood who taught me to brine olives, make salami and roast chestnuts. My family was not defined by blood but by love and kindness. I was raised in a multicultural village—Sri Lankan, Maltese, Italian, Burmese, Cambodian. I was that dark-skinned little girl running through the streets of Barton who never felt out of place.
It was at Hurstville Public School where I first met my husband, Shamil. Maybe an idea was forged on the bus back from the year 6 excursion to Canberra, but I think it is more likely that neither of us imagined we'd be here. Shamil has been by my side through three election campaigns in 2½ years. He's endured stump speeches at the dinner table and my idea of weekend do-it-yourself at home—hammering a few A-frames together for a shopping centre stall—but that's devotion. I see your patience, your love, and your strength, Shamil, and I'm grateful beyond words.
I learnt early that love doesn't follow convention; it just shows up. Real community is built not by proximity but by generosity. From my maternal grandparents—my grandfather, known as Master Ambi in the Tamil literacy and scientific world, and Mano, my grandmother, a teacher by trade for 40 years—I inherited a commitment to education and justice, and I am eternally grateful to them. I thank my in-laws, Smeetha and Kishore, who came from apartheid South Africa to settle in Hurstville for a better life and taught me resilience and hope. I would like to thank Thiru, my parents, Uma and Siva, Dharamine, Thaya, Ajith, the Bezzinas, the Colubriales and my siblings for the understanding that serving my community often means sacrificing time with you.
While Mother's Day and Father's Day have been a little bit complicated for me, I must say I'm proud that I was raised by a community—mosaic of cultures, traditions and faiths. My childhood transcended the conventional nuclear family. I never felt once left out of place, because love doesn't care for convention; it just shows up. It shows up and it serves.
Barton is named for Edmund Barton, Australia's first Prime Minister. He was a nation-builder, stitching together all of the disparate colonies into one federation. However, as a champion of the White Australia policy, I don't think that Edmund Barton could have envisioned someone with the backstory I've just described making their first speech in parliament. But, like Edmund Barton, I attended the University of Sydney before studying law. Like Barton, I stand here representing more than just a place. I represent the project of Australia itself—a project that is not finished but ever-evolving.
Edmund Barton was Prime Minister when women won the right to vote. In this chamber, I stand on the shoulders of Julia Gillard, our first female prime minister. Her words in this chamber were a clarion call to me and to all Australian women to speak up, to push through and to change the system from within. I also follow in the footsteps of former members for Barton Robert McClelland and Gary Punch. It is an honour, and one I do not take lightly.
After completing my science degree, I began my career in a mortuary. Yes, that's right—dead bodies. It's not glamorous, but it teaches you that life is precious and that dignity matters in life and in death. That's what drew me to law, to unions and to advocacy. It led me to my passion for workplace law reform. My belief that dignity at work is sacred is at the core of everything I do. I've stood with workers here and overseas. I've worked with the United Auto Workers in America, the Electrical Trades Union, the Nurses and Midwives' Association and the Australian Hotels Association. In the federal campaign this year, I worked with the United Workers Union, and I want to thank them, especially Jo-anne Schofield, Mel Gatfield and Riz Chowdhury.
Everywhere I've been, I've seen how easy it is for workers to be exploited, especially when they don't understand their payslips, their contracts or their rights. I've seen employers operate in the 'grey zone', especially in the care sector, where profits can be prioritised over people. That's why I'm proud to be part of a Labor government that is pro-worker, pro-decency and pro-small-business. Labor's secure jobs, better pay reforms are shifting power back where it belongs—with the workers. Setting minimum standards for gig workers, enacting the right to disconnect, giving genuine bargaining power, enacting the government's closing loopholes act and tackling casualisation, underpayment and wage theft is just the beginning.
Some say that supporting workers and supporting small business are incompatible. I reject that. Business success should never come at the cost of dignity and fairness. The best businesses know that when you invest in your people, you invest in your prosperity. I'm proud to be part of a movement that has always understood the role of unions. They stand in the gap for those who don't always know their rights, who can't read the fine print and who just want a fair go. Again, their purpose is to serve—to serve their members and to serve the collective movement for working people. I learnt more about what this service means in my time working at the St Vincent de Paul Society. But, this time, it was applied to those experiencing housing stress and homelessness. This role taught me that policy only works when it is human, when it listens first. My time as a councillor at Georges River Council gave me a glimpse of how compassionate leadership can shape local lives, especially in homelessness advocacy. I've volunteered in soup kitchens, I've delivered meals to some people sleeping rough and I've sat with families terrified of the night ahead. These are not statistics; these are people. They are our neighbours. I'm proud of the Prime Minister's National Housing Accord, because housing is not just an economic issue. It is about dignity, it's about safety, and it is about hope.
I'm also passionate about our young people. This next generation deserves purpose, pathways and potential, not burnout, not debt and not despair. We owe them a future that is fair, full of opportunity and where safeguarding the planet has been taken seriously by the generation going before. That's why climate change must be the lens through which all policy passes. If we're not tackling climate, we're not doing our job.
While there are parallels between Edmund Barton's life and mine, in some ways they could not be more different. While Barton championed the White Australia policy, I live and breathe multiculturalism. I stand here because others lifted me. That's why I will always fight for antidiscrimination, for safety, for equity and for unity. I know what it feels like to be different, to navigate different worlds. I've also seen how political tension can quickly mutate into real-world hate if not called out early. I will always stand up against racism, division and hate. I like to think that Edmund Barton, as the architect of Federation, would recognise the work needed to forge not just a nation but a just nation.
My story is a uniquely Australian story, and it is Barton's story: diverse, proud, imperfect but always striving. In that spirit, I carry forward the unfinished work to ensure parliaments reflect their people, that justice is accessible, that equality is not just a promise but a practice.
I would like to thank the Prime Minister for his faith in me and for leading us all with compassion and strength. Thank you to Dom Ofner, David Dobson and especially George Simon. Thank you, George, for your wisdom and your support.
I stand here today because others stood with me. I carry my community with me every step of the way. I thank the people of Barton for placing their faith in me. I will never take that for granted. I thank the wonderful Barton Labor branch members; I can't list them all, but I can see you up there—my friends, Labor councillors, who worked so hard on the campaign. Thank you to Cherie Burton and Sienna Forrest for volunteering and showing political courage and campaign grit. To Davina Langton, Cheryl Han, Samantha Otardo, Jessica Wei, Loretta Marcus, Anne Sinclair, Anne Tegg and Anna Minns: my campaign was run almost exclusively by women, and the result speaks for itself.
Thank you to the New South Wales Premier, the Hon. Chris Minns, and Ministers Steve Kamper and Sophie Cotsis. It is a remarkable privilege to represent a seat alongside three state MPs of such calibre. I am grateful for your advice, support and friendship. Thank you to the Southern Sydney Young Labor Association, India Jones, Sam and the Iskandar family, and our secret weapon in Barton, Don Smith.
My passion for the people of Barton has been shaped by organisations who serve our community. Lala Noronha and the Kogarah Storehouse provide vital services of food relief and cultural inclusion. His Grace Bishop Christodoulos, the Greek Orthodox Community of New South Wales, the Australasian Hellenic Educational Progressive Association, and our Greek community all promote heritage and belonging. Henry Pan and the team at CASS provide our amazing Chinese community with support through aged care, child care and cultural services and lift countless lives. The St George Dragons Junior Rugby League Football Club in Kingsgrove creates community and opportunity for local kids. These groups and so many more are doing the real on-the-ground work that no level of government can replace. I'm committed to fiercely advocating for equitable funding, fair policy and ensuring the voices of those who serve are truly heard and respected.
As Edmund Barton stitched together a nation, I'm here to help stitch together a future for Barton where no-one is left behind, where every voice counts, where dignity is non-negotiable.
I'm a proud Tamil Sri Lankan, Papua New Guinean Australian woman, educated in local Barton schools and raised by a Sri Lankan, Maltese and Italian village. I'm married to a South African born Indian. I have roots in Hinduism, Buddhism and Catholicism. I am the walking, talking embodiment of modern Australia.
None of us chose the colour of our skin, our birthplace or our family, but we can choose to be kind; we can choose to serve. I close with the Latin phrase that guides me: ut prosim—that I may serve.
Sharon Claydon (Newcastle, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
Before I call the honourable member for Hughes, I remind the House that this is the honourable member's first speech, and I ask that the House extend to him the usual courtesies.
11:39 am
David Moncrieff (Hughes, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
I want to start by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land on which we meet, the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, and I also want to acknowledge the traditional owners of the lands and waterways that make up the area of Hughes—the Dharawal people and the Cabrogal clan of the Darug Nation—and pay my respects to elders past, present and emerging. They've looked after this country since time immemorial, and not lost on me is the responsibility that I have to live up to that stewardship.
I grew up as the child of two maths teachers. I studied maths at a postgraduate level, and, for a long time, I viewed politics through a mathematical lens. You draw up a Mackerras pendulum. You write good policy. That policy assists people. The people vote for it, and the swing moves down the rungs of the pendulum. This is not an accurate assessment of politics!
In a democracy, good policies mean absolutely nothing if they aren't supported by the population, and they won't be supported if they're not communicated. I grew up obsessing over politics a little bit, and I'm sure a lot of people in this place and our social circles did too. But most Australians do not spend their days thinking about politics, and that is not a bad thing. We shouldn't expect everybody to focus on the matters that divide us all the time. People are getting on with their lives. They're paying their bills, spending time with their families and running their businesses. But as we do those things our lives are being affected by the decisions that are made here and at other levels of government across our country. It is not our role to wish that those people paid more attention to our amazing policies. It is our role to explain what we're doing with the responsibilities given to us and to seek input on how it can be done better. I firmly believe that good policy cannot be produced without consultation from the people that it affects. That is why engagement from politicians and candidates is so important.
To me, the most direct form of engagement is doorknocking. I occasionally hear political candidates complain about having to doorknock or advise that you really only have to doorknock for the photo: 'Once you have one, you can stop. Who's going to know?' While I understand that every individual has their own way of engaging, I do not relate to this sentiment in the slightest. Doorknocking is not a chore for me. It is core to who I am, and it's core to why I'm here. As public representatives, I believe we should be students of the communities we represent, and there is no better way to learn about them than doorknocking. I have seen doorknocking transform candidates from name-on-the-ballot also-rans to suburb-by-suburb experts on their constituencies and the matters affecting them. Doorknocking teaches me about what my community cares about and guides me on how to communicate about matters that affect it. You earn the right to speak about policy because you listen first.
I put my hand up to run for Hughes because I believed that our community was seeking meaningful engagement. I put my hand up because I believed that our population wanted representation from a local who understood who they were as a community. I put my hand up because I thought we needed a doorknocker, a local who'd lived here, walked these streets and heard their stories.
During the campaign, there were some days when I had an army of volunteers with me, to whom I will always be so grateful. Some days it was just me, going from house to house, street to street, pounding the hot tarred pavement with my walking shoes on my feet and a brimmed hat on my head, on scorching hot days of the summer that didn't seem to want to end. The conventional wisdom was that Hughes was not a winnable seat for Labor. Analysts and psephologists much smarter than me had looked at the seat, it's position on the Mackerras pendulum, and decided that it wasn't the time.
I would often pause at the doors I'd reached after I'd knocked and rung the sometimes up-to-three doorbells—yes, I always ring every doorbell at the door presented to me!—and, while waiting to see whether anyone would come to the door, I'd consider this conventional wisdom and whether this was a rational way to spend my time. But I had seen the power that engagement could have. I remember doing a street stall one Saturday morning during my time as a state staffer, and a community member came up to me and conveyed their cynicism: 'I have so many problems that I could raise with you, but you won't be able to do anything. I've worked in the system. I know how it works.' 'Just try me,' I eventually said, 'What's the harm?' She explained that there was an intersection on the Princes Highway that, in her professional opinion, was too unsafe. It needed better signage. 'But they won't do anything about it,' she said, 'I've tried.' Nevertheless, I noted down her contact details and her concerns. I drafted a letter to the minister. We sent it off, and, a few weeks later, I drove past that intersection, and what did I see? There was brand-spanking new signage. A couple of days later we received correspondence from the minister saying that they'd assessed the intersection as requiring better signage and promptly installed it. I immediately rang that community member. She'd seen the signage and she was happy it had been put up. What she hadn't realised was that it was a direct result of her engaging with her local member. This was a tiny victory. In the scheme of things it was a sign on the road, but one that could have saved her life. But it was something that the government structure had overlooked. One of the strengths of democracy is that we can identify these gaps in our system through the eyes and ears of every citizen. I also like to think that this small victory and others like it put a small dent in the cynicism that has been afflicting democracies around the world, including our own.
My community wanted their income tax cut but most were unaware that a vote had occurred in this place to secure one. My community wanted energy bill relief but they didn't know for what reason that deduction had appeared on their bill. Opportunities like that are why I doorknock. The most common question I've gotten over the last few months has been some variation of, 'Did you know you would win?' I find it to be a difficult question to answer. The mathematician in me wants to say that Hughes had been redistributed to be a marginal seat and winning was within the realm of possibility. The political analyst in me wants to say that the analysis presented to me indicated that it was not winnable. Ultimately, winning and losing were not what I was thinking about. What mattered to me was finding out what issues were affecting community members and doing my best to help them.
As a candidate, it was a privilege to explain government policies and be able to act on concerns raised by voters. I treasured every moment of that opportunity. It is even more of a privilege to be able to act on concerns raised by my communities with me as their local member, and I will treasure every moment of that even more. This role is multifaceted and there are so many important elements to it. I know that committee work is important. I know that voting on legislation is important. But what I really want to do with this role is listen to my community about what issues affect them and do everything I can to help.
When developers tried to move in on land on Bundanoon Road, on which the Woronora Heights community had seen koalas, we engaged with the community to let them know. When the state coalition government turned around and told us there was no evidence of any koalas on that land, we doorknocked because our engagement with the community had picked up something that the government hadn't. On street stalls, community members were coming up to us and telling stories about the koalas they'd seen and showing us videos of the koalas they'd seen. The community hadn't been consulted and information had been missed. I'm so pleased that, in June, this land was declared a regional park.
When the New South Wales coalition government devastated the TAFE system with a decade of underinvestment, I doorknocked. We turned what had once been three safe Liberal seats in Hughes into two marginal seats and one Labor seat. When this place legislated tax cuts, I begged Senator Sheldon's office for material with which to doorknock. Thanks to Senator Sheldon we were able to start spreading the word about them, with many of the people we spoke to hearing about them for the first time. While working for APRA, the prudential regulator, I became a CPSU delegate. I'm proud to have been a member of successive unions since I joined the workforce, and it was such an honour to have been able to represent my colleagues in this manner.
The seat of Hughes was held by successive Labor members Les Johnson and Robert Tickner from its creation in 1955 to 1996, except for a single term which preceded the creation of neighbouring Cook in 1969. Both former Labor members for Hughes served as ministers for Aboriginal affairs during landmark moments in the reconciliation movement. Les Johnson was minister when Gough Whitlam poured that handful of red dirt into the hands of Vincent Lingiari, and Robert Tickner was minister when the Mabo decision was handed down and fought to deliver a just native title act. Inspired by their values, I was proud to play an active role for the 'yes' campaign during the Voice referendum in 2023. I sat on the organising committee for Yes 23 for the Sutherland shire, kicked off our direct voter contact and led the doorknocking. I'm so fortunate to have the support and counsel of Robert Tickner, and I am grateful to have the opportunity to build on the legacy he left in this community.
I started to take an interest in federal politics—a sustained interest in federal politics, sorry; I was always interested!—after the 2010 election. The media focused on the instability presented by a minority government but they couldn't hide the fact that many incredible world-leading achievements were being accomplished by the government during that period. During that period I was particularly struck by the integrity of one cabinet minister, one who stuck by his values even when they were a danger to his career. I was so inspired by that integrity. From that period, whenever I was asked who my favourite politician was, 'Anthony Albanese' was my answer. I even received a 21st birthday card from someone to whom I'd given that answer which had been signed by the member for Grayndler and on which he had been kind enough to add the words 'party hard'. I'm not sure if the party he was referring to was the federal parliamentary Labor Party, but I've chosen to interpret it that way. So, while, yes, I am proud to have that man of integrity and conviction now leading our country, it does not give me much credit in the obscure political trivia community that my favourite politician has been Prime Minister for the last three years!
My electorate contains a diverse range of communities across its nearly 400 square kilometres and three local government areas, stretching from Bundeena to Bardia, from Engadine to Ingleburn, from Menai to Moorebank, from Waterfall to Wattle Grove. Each community has unique needs, and I am honoured to represent those needs here.
Hughes is also home to a thriving small-business community, the lifeblood of our economy. Almost 60,000 local businesses base themselves in the Sutherland Shire, Liverpool or Campbelltown local government areas. I want to work with businesses to help them thrive and to deliver for our community. I want our workforce, especially our young people, to have access to the skills they need to succeed. I'm proud that this government not only believes in TAFE but invests in its future. I understand the value of education, having been raised by two teachers, and I want to see more education opportunities for people in this country that are properly funded.
Health care and social assistance are the largest industries in the local government areas of Hughes by employment. People of all ages have been coming up to me with concerns about the cost of seeing a doctor, after nine years of a government that didn't support bulk-billing. On this side of the chamber, we built and defended Medicare, and I am proud that we're reinvesting in it to make bulk-billing the norm again.
Hughes is home to bushland, waterways and national parks, including the royal and Heathcote national parks, the Georges River, the Hacking River and Woronora River. It is on the forefront of the environmental management conservation movement. Hughes contains the only putrescible landfill site in the Sydney Basin. I have been an active participant in the Labor Environment Action Network and I will continue to advocate for our national environment in this place.
I'm also the only member of this place who represents an electorate with a nuclear reactor, with the Australia's Nuclear Science and Technology Organisation's Sydney facilities located in Lucas Heights. ANSTO produces around 85 per cent of Australia's nuclear medicine, and one in two Australians will require nuclear medicine at some point in their lives. We are fortunate enough to have this world-class institution contributing to both our understanding of science and the strength of our health system.
My electorate also includes the Holsworthy Barracks, one of the Army's major defence presences in New South Wales. I want to honour those who put their hands up to serve this country in our defence forces. The Royal Commission into Defence and Veteran Suicide made it clear that we still have significant work to do in improving the support we provide to our veterans. I'm proud that our government has accepted the overwhelming majority of its recommendations and I look forward to working on their implementation and continuing to advocate for better outcomes for those who have served.
We also must reckon honestly with our past and continue the work of building a more just and reconciled nation. I hope to continue in the tradition of my predecessors Les Johnson and Robert Tickner in this place of First Nations justice and advancing the cause of reconciliation. Our country can never be complete for as long as we fail to come to terms with our past, and we must work to remedy injustices that are ongoing.
My team and I worked hard to win this seat, but we stood on the shoulders of giants. The success of my campaign was built upon the hard work of others who kept the flame alive during the wilderness years for Hughes. The former member for Miranda Barry Collier and the late former member for Menai Alison Megarrity—thank you for setting the benchmark for effective local engagement in this community. Along with former shire deputy mayor Dawn Emmerson, Barry Collier set a high standard on doorknocking, to which I hope to live up. Diedree Steinwall sustained the Labor brand in Hughes during its darkest days and won her ward for the first of three times during a period when it was widely thought impossible, and Maryanne Stuart took back Heathcote and showed us that modern Labor could succeed in the Sutherland Shire when we engage and when we follow through.
There are so many hardworking Labor members and volunteers without whom I could not have made it here. I won't have time to name them all, but there are three I would like to call out. Stuart Munn's enthusiasm and energy knew no bounds and did so much to sustain mine. Greg Poulter put so many hours of effort into making our campaign succeed. I'm not entirely sure when Greg slept during the campaign, but I am so grateful for all of the work that he did to bring us home. Finally, Anthony Duff was the first person who believed that I could do this. I'll never forget that, at the first suggestion of me running, he offered to do whatever it took to help, and he delivered. From booth kits and corflutes to calling volunteers and giving advice on every stray thought that came into my head, he did it all. I am so grateful to Anthony.
I also want to acknowledge my predecessor as member for Hughes, Ms Jenny Ware. Ms Ware brought dignity to the office of Member for Hughes after a tumultuous period for representation in our community. I want to recognise the sincerity with which she approached her role and thank her for the sacrifices that she made in putting up her hand for it. I wish her and her family all the very best. I also want to acknowledge my predecessors in this place representing the north-eastern corner of the Macarthur region, the member for Werriwa and the member for Macarthur. I have big shoes to fill. I am very grateful to you both for your ongoing advice and counsel.
I also want to thank the Hon. Anoulack Chanthivong, the state member for Macquarie Fields and New South Wales minister, for all that you did in assisting me to reach the community that you have served during your time in public life. I also want to thank the Sutherland District Trade Union Club, the spiritual home of shire Labor for generations. I want to thank Senator Tony Sheldon and Senator Jenny McAllister, who both took the time to visit my campaign, and I want to thank Minister Tanya Plibersek for visiting my campaign as well.
I want to thank the union movement, notably Unions NSW; Julia Angrisano of the FSU, my former union; Graeme Kelly and the USU, my current union; and Michael Caine of the TWU for their help during the campaign. Julia, I don't know what we would have done without you. You're a superstar. I also want to thank New South Wales Labor, including Dom Ofner, David Dobson and Callum Bain for your enormous help in preparing me and my office for this place.
And, of course, I want to thank my family for your incredible support. I could not be here without you. As many have stated, this path takes a huge toll on families, and, yes, I don't think it's something that you've ever wanted to be involved with, but I'm very grateful for it.
Finally, and most importantly, I want to thank the people of Hughes for placing their trust in me. The enormous honour of serving in this role is not lost on me. It's something I will never take for granted. I'm not entitled to serve in this role. I know that I have to earn it every day. I am here to ensure that this community is not overlooked, and I intend to fulfil that purpose.
Sport is a big part of life in Hughes, and politics is a lot like sport. You have your team that you follow through thick and thin. You have thumping victories and razor-thin losses. But, while democracy can feel like a spectator sport, it isn't. A democracy cannot function without active engagement and participation from elected representatives, not just at the ballot box and not just during campaign season. Our democracy thrives only when people step off the sidelines, and that is what I'll fight for every day in this place.
Sharon Claydon (Newcastle, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
Before I call the honourable member for Forrest, I remind the House that this is his first speech. I ask that the House extend to him all of the usual courtesies.
12:00 pm
Ben Small (Forrest, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source
As I was saying, it seems like the only fitting way to begin my first speech to the House, some three years after leaving the Senate. But, as most members of the House would probably admit in a quiet moment, we don't always pay much attention to what goes on in the other place, making it quite appropriate for me to reintroduce myself all over again now I'm standing here on the green carpet.
Politics is a contact sport, and, in making the decision to campaign for a return to Canberra, many people asked me why I wanted to join the fray once more. Aside from feeling like I might just be the right amount of mad for this business, I do feel like the Australians that I feel compelled to stand up and fight for need champions now as much as they ever have.
Some 15 years ago I was on duty as a volunteer ambulance officer in Bunbury when my partner and I were dispatched to transfer a dying cancer patient from home to the palliative unit at the local hospital. It wasn't one of the countless lights-and-sirens adrenaline-pumping medical emergencies that I was tasked with in my time in green, but little did I know that one of the more profound experiences of my life would take place in the next hour. Arriving at the house, we discovered that the patient was from a large migrant Italian family, so we'll call him Giuseppe. He was in a bedroom by himself at the back of the house. Lumbering down a long corridor with heavy bags of medical equipment, I bowled into the darkened room and was frankly shocked to find a shadow of a man lying on the bed. Keeping my game face on, despite the relatively confronting scene, I breezily introduced myself and informed Giuseppe that we were going to whizz him onto our stretcher and then pop him up to the hospital, at which point the emaciated figure said quietly, 'No, you won't.' Trying to hide my surprise, I inquired as to how Giuseppe fancied getting to hospital if it wasn't with our help. He said: 'Son, I came to this country before you were born. I built this house myself and I have spent 25 years here raising my family. So I will walk out of this place for the last time.' For what seemed an eternity—and was, in fact, something like 45 agonising minutes—this incredibly frail figure slowly hauled himself out of bed and then dragged himself down that corridor, using only the wall for support, one foot in front of the other in front of the other. Giuseppe collapsed on the front porch, having walked out of his house for the very last time.
I recount this story to the House, as I did to the Senate, for a simple reason. Giuseppe's story, in aggregate, has made our nation what it is today. So we stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before us: those who weren't afraid to work hard, take risks, care for their families and embrace their communities, and who were resilient in the face of adversities that my generation can barely comprehend. These are the people that I have come to this place to fight for: those Australians who are prepared to have a little less today so that their kids might have a little more tomorrow; those Australians who put it all on the line to start a business to create something and to provide opportunities to others; those Australians who are optimistic that their hard work will be rewarded but stoic when it doesn't quite pan out, getting straight back up off the mat to have another go; those Australians who, without second thought or notion of personal gain, pull on a uniform and volunteer to serve our fellow countrymen in whatever their hour of need; and those Australians who would sooner join a committee, become the secretary or roll up their sleeves at a busy bee than see the death of yet another community organisation. These are my people, and I am lucky enough to stand in this House representing a corner of Australia where they abound. My predecessors Nola Marino and Geoff Prosser typified the best of those Australians, and I pay tribute to their decades of service in this place.
Loss has forced me to look at life a little differently from perhaps how I once did. I've experienced loss in political terms, so my place will never be with Teddy Roosevelt's 'cold and timid souls' who know 'neither victory nor defeat', as my 18 months in the Senate was just long enough to see how government could work for Australians but so often doesn't. More profoundly, though, the sudden death of my younger sister at the age of just 30 has taken me years to process fully. I've seen so many grieving families on their worst days, but, on mine, seeing my mum holding my dead sister's babies in her arms is an image seared in my mind.
For me, this perspective anchors the political struggles that play out each day in this building against what really matters in life, especially the value of those incredible people who share our journey in life and to whom in our busy lives we don't often pay enough care and attention. I couldn't possibly rise in the House today without acknowledging the people that have supported me, shaped me and changed me through the many chapters of my story so far. You all know who you are, and I want you to know how much you mean to me even if I don't say it anywhere near often enough.
Today, Australia is brought to you by the word 'can't'. You can't do it, and you can't say it. Almost every business has input costs associated with its people, the power it uses and, of course, compliance. We want highly paid employees in this country, but business is drowning in stifling red tape and regulation while also being crippled by higher and higher energy prices. We are slowly sleepwalking as a country into decline, as investment capital flees our shores whilst we become less and less competitive, with lower and lower productivity. Yet I see limitless potential for an Australia that is bolder, braver and more bountiful as a nation, and I am convinced that deep within our communities is the pride and passion to achieve more for our country and for each Australian to achieve their potential, to maintain a safety net for those deserving a hand up, and to again become a country of 'can'.
In realising such a vision, I hold one thing to be self-evident, and that's that, to change the Australia of tomorrow, we must first understand the Australia of today and accept the Australia of yesterday—as it is, as it was and not how we might have wanted it to be. The more that we obsess over symbolism as a way to alter the past, the less that is said about changing lives in Australia today and the more deafening is the silence about affording all Australians greater opportunity tomorrow.
Matters of employment are of great personal interest to me, not only as a compassionate person who believes in the dignity of work but also as a small-business owner who has had direct experience of hiring hardworking Australians and seeing firsthand both the social and economic benefits that work provides. The false caricature of aristocratic bosses rapaciously exploiting the downtrodden, the vulnerable and the weak in the relentless pursuit of ill-gotten gains is, quite frankly, centuries out of date because such a view denies a fundamental premise of modern Australia, and that's that most Aussies are fair minded and hardworking, whether they be employees or employers.
Like millions of Australians, I had a dream of building my own small business, which grew to employ more than 30 people, including a number who were registered with a disability services agency. I know what it means when we speak of the best form of welfare being a job, and I am particularly proud that one of my former workers has even gone on to start his own small business, which continues to grow today. With almost one in two employees in Australia working in a small business of fewer than 20 staff, most bosses are in fact tradies, restaurateurs, retailers or farmers, working side by side day after day, starting early and staying late. These are the relationships that have built modern Australia.
Businesses in a modern economy have their interests best served by engaged, agile, freethinking and committed employees. Those same staff benefit in term from the superior business performance of an organisation that has the flexibility to change, adapt, trade and prosper. To me, the idea that we need more government red tape between an employer and an employee too often stops people hiring at all, whereas simplicity, certainty and flexibility create opportunity for all Australians.
Every dollar we take off a person or a business reduces the incentive to strive for all, and we must remember that the taxpayer is not an imaginary money tree. Taxpayers are real people, and I particularly shudder at the thought of taking money from a tradie, nurse or teacher and giving it to for-profit companies in the name of some fashionable cause. Whenever we speak of subsidy, commission, plan or initiative in this place, we've got to have the courage to look those tradies, teachers and nurses in the eye and explain why we're taking more of the money that they've earned for themselves and their families. Those hardworking Australians don't live on Twitter, I don't think they always read the paper and they almost certainly aren't members of a political party. They've never marched through the streets of a city with superglue and snorkels. But they do value honesty in political leadership, and they quietly nod their heads in the lounge room when a politician on TV actually talks some sense.
So I'm convinced that political leadership at its best is capable of making the tough decisions whilst carrying the day with reasoned, rational and respectful argument. Australians are no longer listening to political leaders who simply parrot back popular sentiment to the public at large. Indeed, many are yearning for leaders who will take a stance, even where it is a stance with which they disagree. Australians, especially in regional electorates like mine, are crying out for leadership that will truly lift our country and again enliven our communities. They don't send us here to simply argue over the latest way to dole out more and more borrowed money, adding to a debt that will be paid by our children and our grandchildren.
Nobody seems inclined to remind Australians that, just as our forebears learned, we simply cannot turn to government to solve all of our problems, and I hope to lend my voice to this timeless principle. Government shouldn't compete with an efficient and wealth-creating private sector or pick winners with taxpayer money, because it isn't fair that a business should have to compete against a government backed entity that faces no pressure to be profitable and no risk of bankruptcy and is backed by your tax dollar. So government must enable private enterprise, not shackle it, because it is business, small and large, that pays wages and generates wealth in this country. It is business that creates real jobs. Fundamentally, that is why it is an imperative for government to create the right conditions for business to grow, employ and prosper and why we must enhance personal responsibility, reward for effort and the incentive to strive in the Australian economy.
I started my professional career on the deck of an oil tanker, becoming a ship's captain by trade. I followed an icebreaker from the Russian port of Murmansk right over through the pack ice of the White Sea; felt more than a faint terror at the site of breaking waves higher than five-storey buildings in the North Atlantic; and toiled in the searing heat of the Arabian Gulf. Having worked in and with many countries around the world, I've seen the full spectrum of political-economic control and its impacts on the lived experience of ordinary people under those regimes. That has given me a deep appreciation of why Australia is a successful as it is.
A significant part of my career has been in the energy industry, and accordingly I am very cognisant of the fact that energy affects all aspects of life. Households know too well the apprehension of opening a power bill after a hot summer, but less widely understood is the impact of energy prices on business—both the businesses that exist today and the businesses that can exist tomorrow. From the local vegetable farmer I've met who is today considering selling up the family farm because his energy bills are sending them broke to the possibilities for tomorrow unlocked by energy-intense artificial intelligence, our prosperity as a nation depends on affordable and reliable energy.
I believe that, to deliver good government, we should appeal to the pride of Australians and not just to their wallets. We should promise only the dignity of hard work and not the spoils of hard work done by others. Every time the bells ring in this place, opportunity and incentive can be crushed by regulation, restriction or red tape, and we are the only guardians against that. Having bold policy ambition is easy, and yet delivering meaningful change is a different matter altogether. But I will strive never to mistake activity for actual progress towards real outcomes.
To represent my special part of Australia in this place is a deep honour and one that I do not take for granted. My great-grandfather was a 10th Light Horse man who was granted the family's first dairy farm near Boyanup for his service in World War I. My mother, who is here today, grew up on the farm next door, which remains in the family today, and so it is particularly special to represent a region so indelibly linked to my family's history, as well as where I grew up, went to school, messed around in boats as a Sea Scout, started my first business, bought my first property and volunteered as an ambo.
Even in this era of outrage, I still think there's room in our political discourse for a bit of the humour that has long characterised the Australian temperament and is still the quality for which our best remembered parliamentarians on all sides are most often recalled. It might get me into trouble occasionally, but at least nobody will say I'm a bore. Like Giuseppe, when I walk out of this place for the last time, I want to be standing tall with a deep sense of pride and satisfaction that in some small way our nation is at least a little bolder, braver and more bountiful for my contribution here. I thank the House.
Debate adjourned.