Sue Lines (President) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Pursuant to order, I now call Senator Mulholland to make her first speech and ask senators that the usual courtesies be extended to her.

Corinne Mulholland (Queensland, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Thank you, President, and congratulations on your election. I begin by acknowledging the traditional custodians of the land on which we meet, the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people. I also acknowledge the Gubbi Gubbi people back home in my local community of Queensland. I rise tonight incredibly humbled to be a senator for the great state of Queensland. I am a proud fourth-generation Queenslander. We are battlers, people who work hard, speak straight and don't ask for more than a fair go. I stand here tonight holding my young son, as you can see, with his bedtime fast approaching. I am praying that Auggie and I make it through this speech unscathed, so godspeed! Auggie is here not as a symbol but as a powerful reminder of why I am here. I'm a wife and a mum from the outer suburbs of Queensland. I've come to this place to fight for other Queensland families.

Mums and dads fundamentally belong in this chamber, not in theory but in the full, lived reality of working parents—the mess, the chaos, the juggle, the struggle and, of course, the magic and the mayhem that comes with raising children. Mums are masters at turning chaos into order and making the impossible possible, and I hope to bring just a bit of that mum energy to everything I do in this place, always remembering that it is Queenslanders who sent me here. I say this to my fellow Queenslanders back home, to the new mums struggling to return to work, to those people working far, far away from home on a FIFO shift, to the young workers working in a big supermarket late at night, to those doing the morning hustle on the way to work, to those battling their way through traffic to pick the kids up from school, to those simply just trying to make ends meet at the end of the week: I see you, I get you and I'm here to serve you.

When I set off on the campaign trail earlier this year, my young son was just three months old. As a new mum who was still breastfeeding, I sat in the back of a minivan with my Senate colleagues while we travelled the length and breadth of the Bruce Highway visiting Queenslanders where they're at. I made pit stops to pump breastmilk in a public toilet of a service station, at a regional airport and out the back of a country pub. It's not unlike other working parents who juggle returning to work with their caring responsibilities each and every day, and it has taken many, many parliamentarians decades to blaze a trail for working parents. It's thanks to their efforts that this working mum can stand here today in this chamber with her son. Now the responsibility is on the shoulders of everyone here to make this kind of modern workplace flexibility a reality for people outside of this building. I am committed to making the lives of working families just that little bit easier. I want families to have real choice and real flexibility in how, when and where they work.

When we combine flexible work and flexible care our economy is more productive, workforce participation for women is higher, our local roads are less congested and our families are healthier and happier. It's a win-win. That's why I want families to have an early education system that lets them choose the best care arrangements that work for them, with greater flexibility in days, locations and hours. Families might be fly-in fly-out, night shift workers, single parents or living in different homes. They shouldn't be penalised for not fitting into the mould no matter how they live or work. Right now, there are some 350,000 Queensland children in early education and child care, and we need a universal childcare system that works for all of those families and more.

I also want our early education system to truly be a world leader in choice, quality, safety, health and wellbeing. That's why I'm extremely proud of the record investment delivered by the Albanese government to deliver a much-needed 15 per cent pay rise to our amazing early educators. Educators are the beating heart of our childcare system, and they do incredible work to love and guide our littlest people. But for far too many families the start of child care can feel like a vicious cycle—a vicious cycle of colds and flus and illnesses that take a toll on families and place a massive drain on women's workforce participation and the productivity of our economy. Unplanned absences from work can cost our economy up to $33 billion annually. A study found that parents, mostly mothers, on average lose between five and 10 working days each year due to childcare related illness. Forty per cent of women have reported taking unpaid leave because their sick leave ran out while caring for their sick children. Flexibility in care and work can help turn this around in relation to our drain on productivity.

The other challenges facing families are access and safety while in care. In order to keep up with the rising cost of living, parents must rely on access to childcare places to get back to work or to simply stay in work. In regional and rural parts of Queensland places are very hard to come by, or simply non-existent, in so-called childcare deserts. In fact, a staggering 3.7 million Australians live in a childcare desert, a location where there are three children to every one child place available.

A recent study found thousands of families of western Queensland are sitting on childcare waitlists for up to 12 months. Of those families that could access care, 50 per cent reported they are not able to access the number of hours or days that they need. I'm proud of the Albanese government's investment that will build more childcare centres in regional and rural parts of Queensland. These centres will focus on co-locating services on school sites and supporting growth in high-quality not-for-profit providers.

But we cannot have a universal system until we have a system that truly deserves the trust we place in it. When it comes to trust, one thing I know is I cannot hold my son in my arms forever—I literally cannot! There comes a time where I must let him go. Next month, like thousands of Australian families, I take my young son to child care for the first time, and I do so filled with a gut-wrenching fear—a fear that has been amplified by the recent headlines about some of Australia's worst child sexual offenders infiltrating our childcare centres. These predators have preyed on the most innocent among us: our children. I know I'm not alone in this chamber in feeling the gravity of this moment.

There are several issues that, as policymakers, we must continue to confront to ensure the highest standards of safety in our centres. This includes screening processes that are impenetrable, a built environment that creates visibility in all high-risk locations, reviewing our staffing ratios and carefully considering the use of technology such as CCTV to deter offenders and to protect privacy. If you will now excuse me, I'm going to hand Auggie over, because even the toughest of little Queenslanders need a break every now and then.

Glenn Sterle (WA, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

You won't get him back!

Corinne Mulholland (Queensland, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I don't think I'll ever get him back now. Just as we fight for safety in the real world, we must also protect Australians in the digital one. Since COVID, we have seen a meteoric rise in online shopping, which is now used by more than 80 per cent of Australians. But our consumer laws haven't kept pace with that seismic shift. Queenslanders work way too hard to have their money ripped off by dodgy online companies. We must crack down on predatory online subscriptions which make it almost impossible to unsubscribe from and we must review our consumer guarantees to make sure they are fit for an online marketplace.

We need stronger laws that guarantee the return and refund of goods that show up at our door. Why should Australian consumers be stuck with an online store credit they can't use, because the company refused to issue them a refund? But, most importantly, we need a system that protects the businesses doing the right thing, so they are not undercut by the ones doing the wrong thing.

My resolve to stand up for Queensland families is shaped by my own upbringing and the woman who raised me. One of the lessons my mum taught me early in life is that you do not have a right to the cards that you wish you were dealt, but you do have an obligation to play the heck out of the ones that you are holding. And that was the story of her life.

My mother, Carmel, was born into a good, Catholic family, to Helen and Michael Lynch in Ipswich, Queensland. The family owned a fish and chip store and a local corner store in Ipswich where they worked hard to make ends meet, and the customer was always right. My mother's parents both passed away very early in life—long before I would ever get a chance to meet them. While her parents left this earth earlier than any young person deserves, they did imprint on my mum and our family some core values that still hold true today. They believed in rugby league, the Catholic Church, helping your neighbour and the decency of work.

My mum has always believed in putting your best foot forward and being the hardest worker in the room. She has always taught me to be braver than I felt. One of my earliest memories in life was my mum's strength in leaving an unhappy and cruel marriage. I'm not sure of the precise moment when my mum decided enough was enough, but what I remember more vividly is what came next. She left with nothing but courage and two children under three years of age watching her every move. Single-handedly, she raised my brother and I in the nineties. She did so without child support or a safety net to catch us.

At every stage, my mother has chosen courage over comfort. She worked long hours, late nights and many weekends. Money was always tight, but she made sure that we got by. She often made incredible sacrifices to make sure that there was food in our fridge, shoes that fit and, most importantly, a home that felt safe. My mum didn't need saving. She needed a system that backed her strength and she got that in the federal Labor government, because our little family relied on the things that good Labor governments fight for: bulk-billing doctors, world-class hospitals and brilliant public schools.

My mum was a fighter, but she also raised a fighter. Imprinted on me has always been a deep desire to fight for a fairer world. This lit a fire in my belly that drove me to get off my school bus at just 13 years of age and walk into my local member of parliament's office to volunteer. I wanted to help people, and this desire drove me to join the mighty Labor Party when I was just 15 years of age. I would spend my school holidays, weekends and time after school learning how I could help people. It turns out helping Queenslanders meant licking a lot of dry stamps, getting thousands of paper cuts and photocopying things to my heart's content, but I loved it.

My desire to do good also drove me to spend much of my working life in the disaster management sector. Queensland is the most disaster-prone state in Australia. In the last 14 years, our state has faced more than a hundred declared disaster events. I started working in the sector back in 2006 when Cyclone Larry was bearing down on the town of Innisfail. The category 5 system brought with it absolute devastation to Far North Queensland, and it also brought my first job working in the sector at the age of 18. I spent the next 6½ years working shoulder to shoulder with police and disaster management experts, responding to some of the most devastating floods, cyclones and bushfires that our state had ever experienced. I went on to work at my local council in 2011 to help my community recover from one of the most catastrophic floods in living memory.

I have a deep respect for the role of local government in communities. In almost 8½ years of working in local government, there are some moments that have really stuck with me. They remind me that government is at its best when it's delivering for the people. I remember standing in the living room of a single mum in Deception Bay. The air was thick, and the smell of mud lingered over her children's toys, her furniture, her carpet—everything. She had been told to leave that sodden and putrid carpet in place by her insurer. She'd lived like that for nine days, sleeping on a wooden chair. We helped that mum get into crisis accommodation, ripped up that carpet and tossed it in a skip bin out the front of her house.

Councils are not just about roads, rates and rubbish; they are often the first line of response when a disaster hits. They are the backbone of many Queensland communities. That's why one of my very first acts as a new senator for Queensland was to go out and visit local mayors across South-East Queensland in their communities. I believe that when the Commonwealth works together with the state and local governments, we can truly build Australia's future from the ground up.

But the process of government can feel distant. What we do in this place can sometimes feel removed from the people who we serve until your life depends on it, and mine did. When I was just 16 years of age, I was diagnosed with a serious autoimmune condition. It is a condition that would later hospitalise me for a long time and threatened to rob me of my quality of life. I credit my doctor for giving me a new treatment that had just come out of clinical trials, and it was showing positive results for people with my condition. My doctor wrote to the federal department of health to seek approval to use it. That drug saved my life, as I knew it, and it would have cost more than $10,000 per infusion. It wasn't purchased on a platinum credit card. It came from a signature down the bottom of a PBS approval form, and that treatment was free for a young girl who desperately needed it. I carry with me every day a debt of gratitude for our public hospital system, for Medicare and for our Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme.

When the opportunity came to give back to our public health system and medical research, I took it with both arms. I have been honoured to serve on the Prince Charles Hospital Foundation, an organisation undertaking groundbreaking medical research in heart and lung treatments. Thanks to this research, we are now able to transport hearts longer distances to patients in desperate need of an organ transplant on the other side of the country. Our research has also helped to develop a world-first treatment for silicosis called the lung lavage, a process of washing the lungs of a patient and removing dust particles that have settled deep in their lungs. Silicosis is a debilitating and deadly occupational lung disease. There is no known cure. These treatments will greatly improve the quality of life for hundreds of Queensland workers living with this awful disease.

In concluding tonight, I would like to recognise some people and groups important to me. I start with the mighty trade union movement. We are here in this place to improve the lives of working people, and we do so on the backs of thousands of trade unionists who have fought hard for the things that we often take for granted. I pay tribute to the SDA and recognise Queensland secretary Justin Power in the gallery, his team and the whole of the SDA nationwide. The SDA is often the first union that vulnerable young workers come in contact with when they first start their job in retail or fast food. The SDA is doing important work, standing up for young workers to ensure they are paid a fair wage and superannuation on every dollar they earn.

I recognise Stacey Schinnerl from the Australian Workers' Union. She is the first female secretary of the Australian Workers' Union. I recognise you, Stacey, for your grit and your determination that you bring to advancing the Labor cause and, most importantly, the women within it. To Josh Millroy and the Transport Workers' Union: your union has stood up for aviation workers, for bus workers who are under attack and for safer rates for the trucking industry. Thank you for the work that your union has done to make our roads and skies safer. I acknowledge there is still more work to be done.

I also recognise former deputy prime minister and treasurer and our current ALP National President, Wayne Swan, who is in the gallery, for his guidance and, particularly, his intimate working knowledge of Queensland's regional provisional shows and Sunshine Coast surf breaks. But, more seriously, through Wayne, I extend my heartfelt gratitude to the thousands of ALP branch members across Queensland. They are decent, good-hearted people who ask nothing of our party but seek only to serve it. We are nothing without our branch members. I recognise my federal colleagues from the House, including Jim Chalmers, Anika Wells, Milton Dick, Shayne Neumann and Emma Comer. Thank you for all your support, even if what happens in this chamber seems like a little bit of mysterious Senate business to you guys.

To my fellow Queensland Labor Senate colleagues, Anthony Chisholm, Murray Watt and Nita Green: we made it through life on the road together in a minivan and we are all still talking, so that's good. Here's to plenty more Senate road trips where they came from. To my state colleagues, Steven Miles, Cameron Dick and Bart Mellish: your legacy of 50c fares has made Queensland a fairer place for all. To Kate Flanders and the entire team at party office: thank you for your incredible work during the federal campaign and, particularly, Kate, for your gigantic Medicare corflutes, one of which I have souvenired. To my own staff, Tim, Sophia, Scott and Jeremy: thank you for what you every day to fight for Queensland families.

I would also like to acknowledge my brother, Lachie, his wife, Jayde, and their little baby, Sterling. Thank you all for being my biggest cheerleaders and always making me smile. To my extended family, including Tony, Cathy and Richie here tonight: thank you for supporting our little family. We couldn't do it without you. To my friends at Fitstop Redcliffe—and they said I'd be in trouble if I didn't mention them; they're a 10-person walking focus group—thank you very much for keeping me sane, always counting my reps and not letting me take myself too seriously. To my mother, Carmel: thank you for every success you have made for me to succeed. You continue to support us so that I can be in this place to do good.

Last, but not least, to my amazing husband, Davis: you are the heart and soul of the operation. You are the best possible husband and the father to our son, Auggie, and you have a heart the size of Phar Lap. Thank you for always believing in me.

I stand here because my mother taught me to meet hardship with strength and to play the cards I was dealt with purpose, because a 13-year-old girl walked into her local MP's office believing that public service could change lives, because I have stood in floodwaters with Queenslanders picking up the pieces and have lain in a hospital bed, relying on the strength of Medicare and our PBS system, and because I know what government looks like when it works and I know who pays the price when it doesn't. One day my son will ask me what I did with my time in this place, and I will tell him that I worked hard to make Queensland fairer, safer and more decent, that I honoured the trust placed in me by Queenslanders and that I gave it everything I had.