Kara Cook (Bonner, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

():  I start today by acknowledging the traditional custodians of the land on which we gather, and I pay my respects to elders past, present and emerging. My husband, Josh, is a proud Waanyi and Kalkadoon man, and I am the proud mother of three First Nations children. It's a great privilege to speak today on this statement.

Eighteen years ago, then prime minister Kevin Rudd delivered the National Apology to the Stolen Generations. It was a moment of truth-telling that shifted the nation. It acknowledged the profound wrong of removing Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children from their families, communities and culture. The damage done is not confined to the past. Intergenerational trauma is real. It lives on in families, in communities, in overrepresentation in out-of-home care and the justice system, in poorer health outcomes and in the grief that is carried forward. The apology mattered, and its anniversary is a reminder to all Australians of our true shared history.

I want to use my time today to tell the truth in this place and to share the words of a member of the stolen generations—Robert Young, known as Uncle Bob, a proud Gamilaroi man who I met here at parliament during the stolen generations morning tea last month. Uncle Bob told me he had come to parliament to share his story, and he handed me this piece of paper, written in his own words, about his removal and growing up in the Kinchela Aboriginal Boys Training Home, known as KBH, which operated for almost 50 years from 1924 to 1970. This document is titled, 'I am number 24':

I am number 24 ex-KBH. I went to Kinchela Boys Home in 1954 when I was five years of age. I came out in 1965 when I was 16.

My mum found me in a TAB in Redfern in 1969. My dad was living in Moree. I'd been told that my mum and dad were dead.

My nickname at the boy's home was Bullfrog.

The first thing when we walked through the gate, we were told to take our shoes and clothes off. Our clothes and shoes were burnt in the fire. We were left standing in the nude and they threw white powder over you. You walked across the grass bare foot on bindis. If you played up they would tie you to the fig tree overnight. There were many other punishments. You would be sent down the line and if your brother or cousin didn't hit you, they would get sent down the line too.

There was a dog at the home called Prince. He was a German Shepard and belonged to the manager. If we didn't call the dog by his name we'd be sent down the line. He had a name; we were only called by our numbers.

If you ran away from the home, they would send you back to the home, strip your shirt and trousers and leave you in your singlet and underpants. They shaved your hair off, they put you in a butter shed with a sugar bag over you with cut out sleeves. It was itchy sackcloth. You were on bread and water for two weeks. At breakfast time, they would shake the sugarbag over your porridge so that little like weevils would fall in your porridge and they made sure you ate the porridge with the weevils. If you didn't eat it, you had it for breakfast, dinner and tea.

I used to love beetroot. I'd peel off the leaves and wash it under the tap. If you got caught with whatever fruit or vegetable you had, you had that for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I haven't touched beetroot since. We planted our own vegetables and kept chooks. The manager lived off our hard work, taking the produce to sell for his own profit. We worked barefoot on the farm. To treat our cracked feet, we would step in the cow manure to heal the wounds. In the winter frosts, if we complained about our cracked toes, they would turn the water hose on us. It was freezing cold in the winter time.

The way they taught you how to swim was they threw you in clothes and all. I was thrown into the pool clothes and all. I went head first, breaking my top front tooth at the bottom of the pool. One of the older boys, Alan Murray, dived in and brought me up. The manager said, don't worry about that, 24, we'll send you in to Kempsey to the dentist. The dentist said what do you want silver or gold. I said, "Put the gold in!" It'll be with me all my days.

If you came last in your class in school (my cousin and I came last), they would cane both your hands about three or four times and then take you across to the dormitory where there was a boxing ring. They would stand you in the middle of the ring. They would throw a medicine ball at you, then throw gymnastic mats over you and jump on top of you. When we left the boys' home in 1965, my cousin walked out barefoot.

We got on the train at Kempsey. We had to go to Central Station in Sydney to meet our foster parents. We were separated again. My cousin went to live in Riverwood with a Spanish family. While he was with them he learned to speak Spanish although he never had the opportunity to learn his own language, Kamilaroi.

When he grew up, my cousin walked the streets of Redfern and Central barefoot. Everyone knew him. He asked for two songs to be sung at his funeral: Seven Spanish Angels and Spanish Eyes. People say his presence is still felt at the Redfern AMS, the Aboriginal Medical Service.

My cousin was Harold Young. He was number 23.

Robert Young

29 October 2019

It is an honour to share Uncle Bob's story in this place. I told him at the morning tea that if I had the opportunity to share his words I would, and I'm proud to have delivered that promise to him today. Truth-telling is essential in our country, and in that spirit, I also want to acknowledge the work of Travis Lovett, Executive Director of the Centre for Truth Telling and Dialogue at the University of Melbourne, who next month will lead the Walk for Truth, a 500-kilometre walk from Victoria's parliament to this place, Parliament House in Canberra, arriving on Wednesday 27 May. Travis has said:

Walk For Truth is a shared journey that says, with our feet and our voices, that our country needs healing.

He has also said that truth-telling is not about blame; it is about 'finally listening to those who have too often been treated as a problem to be handled, rather than as sovereign peoples who deserve respect'. Truth-telling is 'an act of national repair' so we can walk a true path forward together. The walk is an open invitation to all Australians to walk the path of truth-telling so we can share more stories like Uncle Bob's not just in this place but right across our nation.

Zaneta Mascarenhas (Swan, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Thank you. Uncle Bob sounds like an extraordinary man.

Kate Chaney (Curtin, Independent) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise to acknowledge the 18th anniversary of the national apology to Australia's Indigenous peoples and to respond to the Closing the gap annual report and implementation plan. Eighteen years ago, this parliament stood together to say sorry. It was a moment of truth-telling and national self-reflection, an acknowledgement that the harm inflicted through government policies was not abstract or distant, but deeply personal, ongoing and intergenerational.

The National Apology to the Stolen Generations was never an end in itself. It was an invitation to do the ongoing, sometimes uncomfortable work of justice and repair. In Western Australia in this past year, we saw a powerful local act of truth-telling that spoke directly to the truth of the apology. On 28 October 2025, the Governor of Western Australia, His Excellency Chris Dawson, travelled to Bindjareb Noongar country to deliver a formal apology for the Pinjarra massacre of 1834—a planned and deadly raid led by then Governor James Stirling that killed scores of Aboriginal men, women and children. He said that the time had come for a governor to acknowledge the truth of a predecessor's actions, emphasising the need to confront the truth in all the complexities of the past in order to heal in the present and committing himself to do all he could to rebuild trust and reconciliation.

That ceremony was deeply significant for the Bindjareb community and for all Western Australians willing to reckon with our history. It also modelled leadership: an officeholder using the authority of the state to name harm and to express remorse, walking softly on country, invited by traditional owners, and committing to reconciliation in deeds as well as words. We should recognise the courage of community leaders who carried this truth for so long and the Governor's willingness to meet them there publicly and unequivocally.

Truth-telling alone cannot undo the deep and lasting harm caused by the policy and laws of successive governments. It must be met with practical steps towards justice. That's why I welcome the commencement in November 2025 of the Western Australian government Stolen Generations Redress Scheme. Under this scheme, survivors who were removed from their families in WA before 1 July 1972 are eligible for a one-off $85,000 payment, along with the option of a personal acknowledgement from the state. It marks an important recognition of the harm caused by the insidious policies of forced removal in WA, where, shamefully, some of our country's highest rates of Indigenous child removal occurred.

While the WA scheme is a concrete step on the path to healing, it's too soon to assess its impact. WA was the second-last state to have a redress scheme like this. Only Queensland is left. I'm aware of concerns that the scheme in its current form excludes First Nations people who were removed after 1972, fails to account for intergenerational trauma and is not sufficient to meet the needs of survivors dealing with the complex effects of trauma. I sincerely hope that this is just a start and that the scheme will continue to be improved to ensure it tangibly addresses the lasting harm suffered by Aboriginal families and communities.

As we reflect on these steps towards truth and redress, we must also confront the data. Each year, the Closing the Gap data challenges us to measure our progress, not against rhetoric but against outcomes in the lives of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. This year's results are sobering: four targets are on track; seven show improvements but remain off track; and four are going backwards, including suicide, adult incarceration, out-of-home care and early childhood development. Against this backdrop, I welcome the government's announcement of $144 million to upgrade health infrastructure for First Nations communities and the government's national plan to end violence against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women and children, backed by a commitment of $218 million. This is a vital step towards addressing a crisis that has persisted for far too long.

The expansion of the Remote Jobs and Economic Development program, doubling its capacity to 6,000 jobs, is also a welcome investment in economic empowerment, which is the foundation for dignity, security and community wellbeing. I also welcome the government's $13.9 million investment to expand 13YARN, enabling extended hours and a new text based service so that more First Nations people can access immediate, culturally safe crisis support.

But too many indicators still paint a bleak picture. First Nations people remain 2.5 times more likely to die by suicide than non-Indigenous Australians. Imprisonment rates continue to rise. The number of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children in out-of-home care is worsening, and the developmental readiness of children entering school remains off track with concerning signs of further deterioration. I also want to highlight the widening gap in aged-care services for First Nations elders. Many stolen generations survivors, now reaching aged-care eligibility, face a system that's often culturally unsafe, inflexible and ill-equipped to meet their needs. Elders are often disconnected from country due to limited services in their regions. Nearly 40 per cent of Aboriginal community controlled aged-care providers are at risk of financial instability. Ensuring elders, particularly those who survived the brutality of removal, can age with dignity, cultural safety and connection to country must be core to our efforts to close the gap.

I must also speak about the recent attempted bombing of the Invasion Day rally targeting First Nations people and their supporters in my hometown of Perth. This incident exposed the distressing systemic racism Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people continue to face through not only the declared terrorist act itself but also the slow and muted responses from some quarters. If Closing the Gap is about transforming systems, then that transformation must include how institutions respond when Aboriginal people are the target of violence. As we mark the apology's 18th anniversary, we must hold ourselves to account for progress that communities can feel. The Closing the Gap data will keep telling us the truth, whether we like it or not. Our job is to respond with action that changes the numbers and the lived realities behind them.

Andrew Leigh (Fenner, Australian Labor Party, Assistant Minister for Productivity, Competition, Charities and Treasury) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The latest Closing the Gap dashboard is troubling. Nineteen national targets—four on track, and several improving, yet still off the pace required to meet the 2031 goals. In areas such as incarceration, youth detention and suicide, the trajectory is headed the wrong way. In others, including family violence, baseline data is still incomplete. The gap narrows in some places and widens in others, and, in too many domains, progress lacks momentum. If outcomes are uneven, our response must be sharper. Closing the Gap rests on partnership, and partnership must be matched with precision. Governments need to know which policies shift outcomes and which leave them unchanged. That requires disciplined evaluation.

The Australian Centre for Evaluation is strengthening that discipline across government. It supports rigorous methods, including randomised trials where appropriate, so policy is tested rather than assumed. Evidence from past trials shows why this matters. In the Northern Territory, the School Enrolment and Attendance Measure linked welfare payments to school outcomes and school attendance. In a study run by Rebecca Goldstein and Michael Hiscox, around 400 children were randomly assigned to treatment, and a similar number to control. Attendance did not improve. The trial provided clarity in a contested policy area and informed a shift towards community led approaches to school attendance.

In Dubbo, a study by Isabella Dobrescu and colleagues tested whether culturally relevant exam passages improved literacy outcomes. Replacing unfamiliar contexts with local references produced a substantial gain, roughly halving the gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous students. A carefully designed trial revealed how assessment design itself can shape performance.

In a report last year, Patrick Rehill, Ethan Slaven, Harry Greenwell, Peter Bowers, Scott Copley and Eleanor Williams of the Australian Centre for Evaluation identified 369 published randomised policy trials conducted in Australia since 1976. More than two dozen of these trials were undertaken in First Nations communities. Some of those trials show strong positive effects. Early childhood intervention that began during pregnancy reduced dental decay among Aboriginal children by more than 80 per cent in early follow-up. A Victorian trial found that sending personalised letters to parents increased influenza vaccination rates among Aboriginal children, while pamphlets alone made little difference. A school based program in remote communities targeting executive function and self-regulation showed gains reported by parents and carers, shaping how such interventions are delivered across home and school settings.

Other trials delivered harder lessons. A cluster randomised trial across Aboriginal community controlled health services had mixed results on whether training and support lifted rates of alcohol screening and brief intervention. A pilot randomised evaluation of a smoking cessation app for Aboriginal Australians revealed low engagement and significant implementation barriers, prompting redesign rather than full-scale rollout. A long-term randomised study of health assessments found increased service use but no overall mortality reduction. Each of those trials improved our policy understanding. Some identified interventions worth scaling, whilst others prevented expansion of programs that didn't deliver despite the best of intentions. Together, they demonstrate that rigorous evaluation in First Nations contexts is feasible and informative.

Evaluation in this space demands respect for First Nations data sovereignty and cultural authority. Reviews of programs such as Connected Beginnings have highlighted how inconsistent data collection and barriers to sharing can limit understanding of population level impacts. Strong evaluation requires good data, ethical design and meaningful involvement of Indigenous evaluators. Methods must be fit for purpose. Last year, the Paul Ramsay Foundation's Experimental Evaluation Open Grant Round committed $2.1 million to seven organisations to undertake rigorous evaluations over three years. The Australian Centre for Evaluation is supporting the grant round at various stages. Two of these funded projects are Indigenous led initiatives.

Yiliyapinya Indigenous Corporation is evaluating its Yili program, a brain health and healing program for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children and young people. The evaluation uses a culturally informed, randomised design to examine impacts on educational engagement, wellbeing and social reintegration. An Aboriginal organisation is leading both delivery and the framing of evidence about its impact.

Justice Our Way, an Aboriginal led program supporting women transitioning from correctional centres back into community, is being evaluated using a stepped wedge experimental design. The evaluation will measure reoffending alongside health, wellbeing and community connection. In a domain where incarceration rates remain deeply troubling, credible evidence on what reduces reoffending carries direct relevance to Closing the Gap targets.

These projects operate within realistic budgets and timeframes. They confront practical challenges—ethics approvals, recruitment, retention, access to administrative data—while maintaining methodological rigour. They demonstrate that experimental approaches can be embedded in community led work, with cultural authority and partnership at the centre of these randomised trials.

Closing the Gap requires programs that deliver measurable change in school readiness, justice outcomes, health and wellbeing. It requires governments willing to test, learn and adapt. The Australian Centre for Evaluation is helping to build that culture of learning across the Commonwealth. By supporting rigorous trials, especially those led by First Nations organisations, it strengthens the link between commitment and outcome. The dashboard tells us where progress is falling short; rigorous evaluation shows how to move the line.

Zali Steggall (Warringah, Independent) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I acknowledge the Ngunnawal and Ngambri peoples as the traditional custodians of the Canberra region where the Australian parliament meets. I pay my respects to their elders, past and present, and I extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people here today. Closing the Gap is not a slogan or a line item. It is a whole-of-government obligation, an obligation on all Australians, to change outcomes by changing how government works—shared decision-making, community control and accountability. The Commonwealth annual report 2025 shows practical progress in communities in jobs, essentials, housing, health, rangers and education, but the national data says we are not moving fast enough where it matters most, especially on justice, safety and children.

My remarks today land in a significant national moment. 2026 marks the 18th anniversary of the national apology, delivered in parliament on 13 February 2008. It was a formal acknowledgement of the profound harm done to stolen generations by government policies. Anniversaries matter because they remind us that the apology was never meant to be the end of the story but the start. It was meant to be the beginning of that commitment to undo that harm, and of a different relationship built on truth, healing and action. Closing the gap: Commonwealth annual report 2025 andCommonwealth implementation plan2026 shows us whether the 2008 apology is being matched by system change, genuine partnership and measurable progress, especially for children and families.

In Warringah, our community has shown it wants to walk forward as an ally. In the 2023 Voice referendum, Warringah voted overwhelmingly yes, at nearly 60 per cent, for recognition of a voice, because if we can't learn from the past, including the lessons of exclusion and harm, we can't make the changes we need for the future. That's why recent events are so alarming and must be raised in this context. The alleged attempted bombing at the Perth Invasion Day rally on 26 January 2026, now treated as a terrorism matter, was a stark reminder that racism escalates into violence. It sits alongside a broader, deeply concerning rise in white supremacist and Neo-Nazi activity, including incidents targeting First Nations people and places of cultural significance. Our response to all forms of racism, including white supremacy, must be strong, consistent and unequivocal, because there is no place for hate in a country serious about closing the gap. If we are a country where Australian values include equality, then closing the gap is a priority.

My electorate office in Manly has taken the initiative and proactively developed a reconciliation action plan—I encourage all other members of parliament to consider that for their own office operations—to embed First Nations consultations, stories and lived experience into the everyday work of our office. This applies across legislation; we regularly engage with Indigenous representative bodies in Warringah and nationally so that the views of Indigenous Australians are captured in the way my office considers legislation. It also applies to constituent liaison officers in my dedicated correspondence team, which has direct connections with First Nations organisations and proactively engages with them when undertaking individual case work. It also applies to events, and of course we have a welcome to country and acknowledgement at all events, including guest speakers and youth ambassadors, ensuring we have that truth-telling and acknowledgement. It also applies across our grants process, with individual case-by-case grant identification and writing support, including letters of support. It also applies through employment pathways, and we are looking at a First Nations intern and work experience program being implemented as part of our rolling Warringah and Canberra intern program. These are just a few ways in which a RAP can be a meaningful engagement with First Nations.

Closing the Gap today sits under the National Agreement on Closing the Gap, developed in partnership between governments and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peak bodies. The agreement includes four priority reforms that focus on transforming systems—formal partnerships, building community controlled sectors, transforming mainstream agencies, and shared access to data, with 19 national socioeconomic targets tracked through the Productivity Commission's information repository and dashboard. This matters because the evidence is blunt. As of the July 2025 data release, only four targets were assessed as being on track, and several key targets are worsening. The national apology on 13 February 2008 acknowledged the deep harms inflicted on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, especially the Stolen Generation, and there was a commitment to action across those key areas, yet we are falling behind. The Productivity Commission's annual data shows the worsening outcomes in particular areas, including adult imprisonment, which is target 10; children in out-of-home care; suicide; and children developmentally on track. That means some targets are being achieved, but so many system-level indicators are telling us the pace and scale of change is falling far short.

The first step to tackling these problems is being honest about where the failures are and why, and a credible plan begins with the truth. We can make 2026 the year of structural change, not just more well-intentioned announcements and initiatives. I would argue the stakes are highest for children. We must put children's rights at the centre of the response, not just add-ons. Under the Convention on the Rights of the Child, governments must treat the best interests of the child as a primary consideration in decisions affecting children. This connects to Closing the Gap's child protection target, target 12—by 2031, reduce the overrepresentation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children in out-of-home care by 45 per cent. But national reporting shows this target is actually worsening.

Warning lights in the national data are not abstract. When out-of-home care is worsening, that means more children separated from family, kin, culture and country. When early childhood development is worsening, that tells us that kids are starting school already behind, and catching up later is harder and more expensive. When adult imprisonment worsens, it affects families, children's stability, economic participation and community safety. A high-stakes game plan for children should look like prevention. We must invest early in maternal and child health, family supports, education, housing, food and security. We need to strengthen Aboriginal community controlled child and family services so families can get culturally safe supports early before statutory systems come in, and we should measure progress by whether children are safer and remain connected to kin, culture and country. Where Commonwealth funded services interact with children—health, early childhood, disability supports and family violence responses—the plan should specify who is responsible for outcomes and how progress is being tracked in relation to children.

If we want proof that a different approach can work, we should look to, for example, Scotland's whole-system approach, which deliberately diverts children from prosecution, from incarceration and from criminality. What we've seen across the country is shameful. The policies around adult crime, adult time are shameful approaches. When you look at Scotland's whole-system approach, it shows how you can do this well. They focus on early intervention. They coordinate responses across police, education, health and social services. The outcomes have been dramatic. Between 2008 and 2022, Scotland has recorded a 92 per cent reduction in the number of children and young people prosecuted in courts and a 97 per cent reduction in 16- to 17-year-olds sentenced to custody. And Scotland has gone further by embedding children's rights in law. The rights in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child are legally protected and enforceable in Scotland. This should happen in Australia, and it should happen here at Commonwealth level because that will override absolutely inhumane laws that are happening at state and territory level.

It has also ended the practice of holding children in young offender institutions. Reforms commencing 28 August 2024 meant children could no longer be remanded or sentenced to prisons, instead being placed in smaller, trauma informed, secure care settings. If we compare that to what we're seeing in Australia, the difference is stark. In Australia the approach has been to just throw more people in jail—adult time, adult crime—no matter the cost to our economy and to our society. We are making the problem worse.

I urge us to be real, when we talk about closing the gap, about the policies that actually make a difference. Don't just put on a bandaid. It's convenient and populist to prey on people's fears, but that does not do anything about actually making the problem better.

There are so many areas we can talk about when it comes to closing the gaps, but, for me, my focus overwhelmingly has to be a focus on the rights of the child and, in particular, on young Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children, who are at the moment being absolutely let down by Australia.

Andrew Giles (Scullin, Australian Labor Party, Minister for Skills and Training) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I want to begin my remarks by recognising the Ngunnawal peoples as traditional custodians of the land on which we gather today. I'd also like to recognise the Wurundjeri people, traditional custodians of the land that I'm so proud to represent in the electorate of Scullin. I want to recognise more than 65,000 years of continuous culture and connection to country right around this beautiful country.

Last week I had the enormous privilege of attending the National Indigenous Training Academy graduation ceremony. The ceremony, at the Uluru meeting place, celebrated 23 new graduates. It's at Uluru that practical skills being used in the tourism sector are being aligned with generations-old skills of storytelling and connection. These graduates are walking in two worlds, connecting culture and country with skills that open doors everywhere. The graduates in the hospitality and service industries have benefitted from on-the-job training across a range of services. In many cases they stepped from their graduation straight into full-time employment.

The National Indigenous Training Academy is also a great example of the quality and diversity of Australia's VET sector. NITA has developed, from the ground up, a cert III course in tourism focused on tour guiding. This course, developed from Indigenous experience and understanding, caters to the needs of the tourism sector in Uluru, as I saw, and also in Mossman Gorge. This is work that takes time, but that time has been invested to deliver a course that's of high quality and in high demand.

NITA caters to First Nations people from all across Australia, aged between 18 and 30, who are seeking a career in hospitality and tourism. As of last Friday, 797 graduates had achieved a cert III under one of the programs. Many are now directly employed at the Ayers Rock Resort and the Mossman Gorge Cultural Centre. Many of them have learned their skills from trainers who are NITA graduates themselves—they gained their qualification, went out into the world to gain industry experience and came back with their training and assessment qualification to play their part in skilling the next generation.

I echo the Prime Minister's words by saying that the 2026 Closing the Gap implementation plan demonstrates that our government is determined to focus on areas where we can have the greatest impact, providing jobs and economic opportunities, access to essential services, community safety and, of course, long-term wellbeing. As Minister for Skills and Training, I'm very proud to be part of this work.

A major part of our reform in this regard is the National Skills Agreement. The NSA, which we signed with every state and territory government, embeds Closing the Gap as a national priority—the first national agreement to do so. VET plays a key role in advancing outcomes 5, 6 and 7 of the Closing the Gap agreement. Outcome 5 is concerned with increasing the proportion of First Nations people aged 20 to 24 years who have attained a year 12 certificate or equivalent, a cert III or above. Outcome 6 seeks to increase the proportion of First Nations people who have completed a tertiary qualification. Outcome 7 is about increasing the proportion of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander youth who are in employment, education and training to 67 per cent.

In partnership with states and territories and, of course, the Coalition of Peaks, the Commonwealth is establishing and managing a nationally networked VET policy partnership to ensure active engagement with First Nations people, organisations and communities. It will support organisations and affiliates to lead research projects, pilots and initiatives on national policy and programs in VET. With this in mind, we're also establishing the Indigenous Centre of Vocational Excellence. The ICOVE, as it will be known, will be a national best practice First Nations hub promoting high-quality, culturally responsive training opportunities for First Nations students. A First Nations RTO will host the ICOVE and support its operations, to be built around four pillars: innovation, capacity building, policy and advocacy, and research and data.

Because, at the moment, we simply don't know enough about the First Nations RTO sector to make decisions with First Nations people to ensure we make it stronger together, two sector-strengthening scoping projects—one led by the Coalition of Peaks and one by my department—will work to build the appropriate evidence base. These projects will tell us how to go about supporting the sustainability, capability and cultural integrity of the First Nations RTO sector. Later this year, skills ministers from across the country will consider both projects and how they might inform longer term policy reforms under the VET Policy Partnership.

This is not all we're doing in the training space to meet those three elements of the Closing the Gap targets. Last year, the Prime Minister announced a $299 million investment to create 6,000 new jobs in remote communities. With this increase in the number of jobs will come increased demand for skills to help fill those positions. We understand that it's not always possible for people to travel from communities to regional centres to attend training. That's why, in the 2024 budget, the Albanese government announced a $30 million investment in remote training hubs to be established across seven remote Central Australian communities to provide access to high-quality on-country training, operating as a hub-and-spoke model. Desert Peoples Centre Inc. has been contracted to build and deliver these mobile training units to go alongside it to ensure that industries like carpentry, conservation and ecosystem management, cookery, and resource and infrastructure can be built up in these areas.

In addition to this, last year at Garma, the Prime Minister announced a $31 million investment in mobile TAFE to deliver up to 12 projects in outer regional and remote locations around Australia, bringing training opportunities to people rather than asking them to leave country to access training. Of course, free TAFE has had a huge impact in enabling First Nations Australians to access the important skills they want to do jobs that are really necessary, including in communities. In the first three years of the program, there have been more than 44,000 enrolments by First Nations people. These are initiatives—free TAFE, remote training hubs—to provide pathways to ensure that First Nations Australians can attain secure and well-paid jobs on their terms. They build on other programs, like the First Nations stream of the Skills for Education and Employment Program, projects co-designed with local government groups to ensure that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people can build foundational skills on their terms.

When we think about the government's agenda more broadly, tertiary harmonisation is a really critical element, and I'm really pleased that the new Australian Tertiary Education Commission will appoint a statutory First Nations Commissioner. I want to recognise the great work done in that role, as part of the interim ATEC, by Larissa Behrendt AO, now carried on by Professor Tom Calma AO. The Australian Universities Accord:final report emphasised that First Nations participation in tertiary education across learning, teaching and research is absolutely critical to self-determination, which is fundamental to what we are trying to do. So too is the Murtu Yayngiliyn study, which is being undertaken by Jobs and Skills Australia. The study is a national initiative designed to determine the most culturally safe and effective ways to measure the literacy, numeracy and digital literacy levels of First Nations people, developed because for too long this has not been something that we paid attention to. This is being supported by a dedicated cultural advisory panel who provide governance, genuine co-design and shared decision-making authority to hold Jobs and Skills Australia accountable and to ensure this really important study is grounded in cultural knowledge and guidance.

And we know there's more to be done when it comes to VET workforce, ensuring, as is the case at NITA, that First Nations students have the opportunity to be guided by First Nations teachers and trainers. We've been doing some fantastic work with NACCHO to expand the delivery of its successful First Nations Trainer and Assessor Demonstration Project, one example—of many—of government working closely with the Aboriginal community controlled sector and taking on board the understandings that it and only it holds.

With that in mind, as the local member for Scullin, I want to refer to Bubup Wilam, an Aboriginal child and family centre not only delivering early childhood education and care but also, more broadly, culturally appropriate support services. Bubup is also an RTO, delivering quality training at cert III and diploma level, too. That's why our government is backing Bubup and two other First Nations RTOs in Victoria with $9 million to run a three-year pilot looking at strengthening First Nations led VET training, guiding the way to building greater capability in the sector and the long-term growth of Aboriginal community controlled RTOs.

I see Budup Wilam as a model for the work we talk of in Closing the Gap. Community led and responsive to the needs and understandings of community, Budup Wilam is one of 50 backbone organisations working with communities to co-design solutions that get more kids the support they need prior to starting school, as well as doing fantastic work in addressing family and domestic violence. Organisations like this and partnerships based on respectful listening are absolutely fundamental to doing better in closing the gap, which must be an absolute national imperative.

Sarah Witty (Melbourne, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I first want to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land and pay my respects to elders past, present and emerging. I rise today to speak on the Closing the gap annual report and the implementation plan tabled before this House. This report is not simply a collection of statistics; it is a measure of our national character. It asks whether we are prepared to confront hard truths, listen deeply and act with consistency and courage in partnership with First Nations people.

Closing the gap was never meant to be a slogan. It is a commitment born from generations of advocacy by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander leaders, communities and organisations who have long demanded that governments move beyond symbolism to structural reform. In 2008, when the National Apology to the Stolen Generations was delivered by then prime minister Kevin Rudd, it marked a watershed moment in our history. Words of apology to the stolen generations were spoken on behalf of this parliament and this nation. But, as powerful as those words were, they were never meant to stand alone. Acknowledgement must always be matched with action.

The annual report makes clear that, while there has been progress in some areas, too many targets remain off track. Too many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children are still overrepresented in out-of-home care. Too many families continue to experience preventable health inequities. Too many communities lack access to safe housing, quality education, culturally appropriate services and economic opportunity. These are not failures of community; they are failures of systems—systems designed without First Nations voices at the centre.

The most important reform underpinning the National Agreement on Closing the Gap is the commitment to shared decision-making. Governments alone cannot and should not determine the path forward. The four priority reforms—formal partnerships and shared decision making, building the community controlled sector, transforming government organisations, and improving data and information sharing—exist because First Nations leaders demanded a different way of working. And they were right.

We know that, when programs are designed and delivered by Aboriginal and community controlled organisations, outcomes improve. We know that culturally safe health services lead to better health outcomes. We know that community led education initiatives improve engagement and attendance. We know that justice reinvestment programs reduce the number of people in jail and help communities thrive. So the question before us is not whether the evidence exists; it is whether we have the discipline and political will to follow it.

In the electorate of Melbourne, I see the strength of Aboriginal led organisations every day. I see the power of community, of connection, of culture. I also see the impact of underinvestment and funding models that make long-term planning harder than it needs to be. If we are serious about closing the gap, then short-term pilot programs are not enough. Competitive funding rounds that pit organisations against one another will not suffice. Policy development in isolation from community will not work. What will work is sustained long-term investment in community controlled organisations. What will work is genuine power-sharing, not consultation after the fact but co-designed from the outset. What will work is embedding cultural capability across government so that every department understands its role in advancing equality.

The implementation plan outlines actions across portfolios—that is welcome—but implementation must be more than a document; it must be a living partnership. We must also confront the uncomfortable truth that progress does not occur in a straight line. Some targets have gone backwards. The reality is deeply concerning, but it is not reason for retreat. It is a reason for urgency. Behind every statistic is a child, a parent, a grandparent. Behind every target is a human story.

When we talk about life expectancy, we are talking about years of life lost—years not spent with family, not spent sharing culture, not spent contributing to community. When we talk about early childhood development, we are talking about whether children start school confident in who they are, supported in their language and culture. When we talk about incarceration rates, we are talking about lives disrupted and communities carrying the weight of systematic injustice.

The path forward must be guided by truth-telling. We cannot close the gap without understanding how it was created: through laws that discriminate, forced removals and policies that sought to erase culture. Structural inequity does not dissolve through goodwill alone. It requires structural reform.

That includes reforming how we collect and share data. Too often, data has been extracted from communities without being returned in a useful way. Data sovereignty matters. Communities must have access to, and control over, information about their own people.

It also includes reforming how governments measure success. Success cannot simply be defined by service outputs. It must be defined by whether communities feel heard, respected and empowered. I want to acknowledge the role of organisations, such as the Healing Foundation, which support Stolen Generations survivors and walk alongside them on their healing journeys. Their work reminds us that closing the gap is not only about stats; it's about healing, justice, restoring what was taken and rebuilding trust.

In February, I had the privilege of spending time with Stolen Generations survivors visiting Canberra for the anniversary of the national apology. Listening to their stories reinforced something simple but profound: healing requires more than remembrance; it requires material change. It means ensuring that children grow up strong in culture and community and that families have safe homes. It means making sure that elders are supported to pass on language and knowledge. It means governments honouring their commitment not just in speeches but in budgets and in legislation.

The Closing the Gap framework gives us a road map, but a road map is only useful if we follow it. As legislators, we must hold ourselves accountable. We must scrutinise whether funding aligns with rhetoric, we must ensure that policy settings do not undermine the very outcomes we seek to achieve, and we must be willing to adjust course when communities tell us something is not working.

Importantly, we must approach this work with humility. For too long, former governments assumed that they knew best. The national agreement recognises that expertise resides in community. Our role is not to dictate solutions but to support them.

There is also a broader national conversation to be had about reconciliation and justice. Closing the gap does not exist in isolation from debates about truth and treaty. These are interconnected threads in a larger story about how we all share this country. A nation cannot reach its full potential while leaving part of its population behind. Closing the gap is not about charity; it's about equity. It's about ensuring that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children have the same opportunities as any other child in Australia and that those opportunities are grounded in pride of culture and identity.

As we consider this annual report, we must resist the temptation to reduce it to a scoreboard. The numbers matter deeply, but they do not tell the whole story. The story is also one of resilience, innovation and strength. Across the country, First Nations leaders are designing solutions in health, education, housing and economic development. Young people are reclaiming language. Elders are guiding cultural renewal. Communities are leading climate adaptation on country. This is extraordinary expertise and leadership to partner with, if we are willing.

The implementation plan sets out actions. Our task now is to ensure those actions translate into measurable change. It means embedding accountability mechanisms. It means transparent reporting. It means ongoing dialogue with the Coalition of Peaks and other First Nation representatives. It means recognising that closing the gap is a long-term endeavour that goes beyond electoral cycles.

Each year, on the anniversary of the national apology, we reflect on the words spoken in the main chamber in 2008. But reflection is not enough. Closing the gap is the work of turning apology into policy and policy into progress. We owe it to the stolen generations, we owe it to children growing up today and we owe it to the integrity of this parliament. Acknowledgement must always be matched with action, and closing the gap is how we make that action real.

Debate adjourned.