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

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

Charlotte Walker (SA, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I acknowledge the traditional custodians of this land, the Ngunnawal and Ngambri peoples, and thank them for their care of this country. This is technically my first speech, although I have now spoken in this chamber on multiple occasions, and the results have been whack. As the youngest ever Senator, I have received a lot of media attention about what I have said and what others have said about me, including some who really haven't liked what I've said. They say I don't have enough life experience. I replied that I have 21 years of life experience. What I bring to this parliament is the experience of young people today, and I know what a privilege it is to do so.

Young Australians aren't a side issue. We aren't a future issue. We are Australians now. It's hard to explain what it feels like to be a young person today, not because we lack the words or the insight but because so often, when we speak, we're told we're too sensitive, too entitled or too distracted by our screens. We are told we spend too much time looking at our phones—although sometimes the person saying it has only just stopped looking at their own phone! We're told that we're too young to understand how the world really works. But we do understand, because we're the ones living in this world others built and we're facing a very different set of challenges than any generation before us. Homeownership, for instance, is increasingly out of reach. A dream once seen as an expected milestone of adulthood is now something many of us feel we may never achieve. And renting is now a lottery. I have friends who still struggle to find properties they can afford and others who have submitted over 50 applications before being accepted to just get a home. We're told the solution is to cut out smashed avocado toast or skip a daily coffee—or, in my case, a daily hot chocolate. But no amount of budgeting advice will fix a system where the price of a home has completely outstripped wage growth. The uncomfortable truth is that we live in a wealthy country but that that wealth is not being evenly shared between generations.

The first time I spoke in this parliament, I was proud to talk about what the Albanese government is doing to ease the housing crisis. However, we also know there is a long way to go. Today's announcement on the early start of our five per cent deposit scheme will be a big help to many young people, allowing them to turn their rent money into mortgage repayments.

We're told we're an anxious generation, but we live with the ever-present threat of climate change. It's clear to almost all young Australians that you've got to be working hard on closing your eyes to convince yourself that climate change isn't a threat, yet some still do. I can't imagine how they look at the catastrophic weather events, the fires and floods we're experiencing, and say to themselves, 'Nothing to see here.' I can't imagine them standing on the street in Lismore, with boarded-up houses from flood damage, and telling those residents, 'Nothing to see here.' I challenge them to visit the World Heritage Ningaloo Reef, which has just had its first-ever widespread bleaching event from a hot ocean, and say, 'Nothing to see here; no need to reduce emissions.'

Maybe they just lack the empathy to understand how these rapidly escalating climate events evoke in our generation a real fear of what is yet to come later in this century. After all, in 2050 I won't be in my late 90s, like some who want to abandon net zero; my friends and I will be in our 40s, and we demand an inhabitable planet. Right now, South Australians are walking on beaches and seeing dead fish, rays and octopuses from a climate change induced algal bloom. The algal bloom is smothering ecosystems that until now have been virtually pristine, and it is threatening our valuable fishing and aquaculture industries. Both the state and federal governments are working hard on supporting businesses and funding scientific research. So much needs to be done to support environmental climate resilience into the future so our coast can bounce back. Our beaches and the ocean are very much part of our way of life in South Australia.

Just in case you missed it, those internet trolls won't stop me from demanding that we act on climate change. Young people today are more informed, more passionate and more determined than ever. We care deeply about our future, and we demand a seat at the table where decisions are made. In parliament, I sit alongside colleagues who are dedicated and experienced, but they weren't born in this millennium. They didn't learn in digital classrooms. They didn't grow up with social media. They didn't come of age during a COVID lockdown or a climate crisis. And they can't fully understand what it means to be a young person right now—and that's okay; no one generation can fully understand another. But what we can do is listen to each other. The voices of young people are not a threat to experience; they are the next step forward.

Being given the opportunity to stand for the Senate is a privilege that still seems unreal. By preselecting the President of Young Labor, the Australian Labor Party was making a statement that we care about the voices of young people. I am so proud to stand here as a member of South Australian Young Labor, particularly Young Labor Left. I want to acknowledge the number of you that have travelled all this way to watch this speech.

Getting involved in Young Labor is one of the best things I've ever done. Growing up, I didn't have friends who were interested in politics—I'm actually thankful for that now!—but finding the Young Labor Left was like finding my home. These are the people I've spent many hours with out on prepoll and doorknocking, but, most importantly, these are my friends. I stand a little taller in this place knowing I have all of you behind me. I hope I make you all proud. A particular thanks to Billy Fay and Zara Smith. They make sure we turn up on time, and are responsible for controlling a large room of rowdy activists.

But it is my experience before joining Young Labor that has led to my own passions and determination to speak up. Lots of people think I am in parliament because of the privilege I was raised with—how I went to private school, so things must have been handed to me on a silver platter—but, of course, the story is a little more complicated than that. I grew up in regional South Australia. Yankalilla and Normanville seem idyllic to many because a lot of wealthy Adelaideans have their holiday homes in the area. But my family was not there on holidays. We weren't wealthy, nor was much of my community.

Regional South Australia has social complexities: fewer job options, higher rates of youth drinking and drugs, high road fatalities, rural suicide rates and domestic violence. I recall being puzzled when classmates were pulled out of school because their mother had to get them away from their father. To a child, the fact that your friend disappears from netball because she is scared of her dad is really distressing. Then, as I got older, I overheard the way young men at the pub and in sports clubs talk about women.

The Australian Domestic, Family and Sexual Violence Commissioner has now said we are seeing the first generation to grow up exposed to violent pornography and misogyny online, and we know that, when these views of women are normalised, it creates environments where violence is tolerated, minimised or ignored. Last week South Australia's royal commission report was released. It was written by a former young senator, Natasha Stott Despoja, and I note that she talks about the importance of looking at both the experience of children and the need to change community conversations. Domestic violence is a deep shame in our community, and I want to talk about it. How do we better recognise the experience of kids exposed to violence, and how do we change those conversations in the pubs and sports clubs?

Personally, at school I experienced another challenge that hurts so many kids: bullying. The bullying was enough to force me out of my local public school in year 4. The only option was to go to private school. Mum scraped by, paying private school tuition fees and not buying things for herself, to support me and my brother. We rarely took holidays, and, since starting this job, I think I've probably flown on more planes than our whole family has combined during my life. I got my first job at 14, as soon as I could, because I wanted to help out with all of my personal costs: stationery, camps, pads, tampons—you name it. We weren't poor, but we didn't have a lot of money. But what we did have was love.

My mum, Liz, is one of the bravest people I know. She put up with so much that she shouldn't have. She did it for us, to protect us kids. Words can't fully account for the sacrifices she made for us. Mitchell is the best brother. We fought a lot as kids, as kids do. As we've gotten older, we've realised that we have a lot more in common than once thought. He's way cooler than me, but don't tell him I said that!

Like many families, my parents' breakup was hard on everyone involved, and a lot of what happened really hurt me, but I didn't start to realise the impacts of this until I was older. When I was 18 years old, I spent lots of time at the doctor trying to figure out why I wasn't sleeping at night—blood tests, medication, suggestions of a sleep study—but deep down I knew what the root of the problem was, even though I wouldn't admit it to myself, let alone the doctor. It was depression. I had spent years skirting around the issue. I was in denial. The effects had been long-lasting, compounded by guilt. I spent months dreading waking up in the morning. I often wondered if I wanted to go on—if there was any point in me being here. The first step to my recovery was admitting that I needed help. I remember leaving my first therapy appointment feeling a tiny bit more positive about my life. In sharing this today, I am telling all of you some of what I've only told a handful of people.

I don't tell people about my depression because of the deep shame I feel about it and because of the perception of being damaged goods. But, whilst that experience has undoubtedly cost me, it has also given me more understanding and empathy for what some families are going through—particularly for what happens to the kids going through this type of thing. During my term in parliament, I want to shine a light on how childhood experiences like mine can continue to affect your mental health into adulthood and I want to explore meaningful ways to address this.

I was also recently diagnosed with a genetic heart condition called familial hypercholesterolaemia—something we probably should have seen coming given my family history. It affects about one in 200 people and can lead to early heart attacks, even in very young people. However, thanks to my fabulous bulk-billing doctor and the treasured Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme, I know about my condition and I can take the lifelong medication I need to prevent heart damage.

I've already spoken in this parliament about how valuable the PBS and Medicare are. I hope I can contribute to our improvements to Medicare—something only a Labor government takes seriously. I also want to look at how we can harness new technologies to ensure early diagnoses for people with conditions like mine so that, regardless of your financial situation, you can have the best opportunity to manage these health conditions. My life until now was shaped by some challenges that, whilst they sometimes held me back, do not define me. What helped me get through were the people who stayed—my friends—and I want to take this opportunity to thank them.

Firstly, for my two closest friends, Isabella and Jemma, I was going to tell some stories about what we got up to together, but I decided that our teenage years probably don't need to be aired here! Jemma and I have a friendship where we share many interests, hate all of the same people and are brutally honest with each other. I can genuinely say it's a low-maintenance and high-reward relationship. Isabella and I have known each other since we were in year 4. Her family became a second family to me.

When I was planning this speech, my mother suggested that I should tell the story of how my family came to adopt our beloved cat, Gerald. She thought you would all be touched by the compassion Isabella and I demonstrated in heroically rescuing two abandoned kittens found during a hike in Deep Creek National Park—kittens that we both took home to look after. But there is something about that day that I've never shared. Actually, I've shared it with a lot of people, just not my mum. Mum, perhaps now is the right time to admit that the story wasn't true. I just really wanted a cat. Isabella and I were at work and one of our colleagues had somehow acquired a few kittens—as you do. She wanted them to go to a good home, so we decided that we would take the kittens. I only lied because I thought that, if you knew the truth, you'd make me take him back. So, Mum, Isabella and I conspired, as usual.

I'm also lucky to have another friend from school here today, Kane. In year 12, I had the honour of being elected school captain. I initially didn't think that I had what it took until my head of school convinced me to have a crack. I didn't want to; I was really scared of failure. So, with significant hesitation, I pieced together a speech and was elected alongside Kane. Today, Kane is serving in the Australian Defence Force and is in ADFA. It's pretty cool to have him just down the road here in Canberra.

But the person who now knows me best is my partner, Matt. Matt and I matched on Tinder—controversial, I know. After a few days, I was at a birthday party and I didn't want to pay for an Uber home, so I decided to try my luck and see if Tinder Matt would drop me home to save the 30 bucks. He lived nearby and agreed. We started talking, and, before we knew it, four hours had passed and it was 3 am. It was pretty clear that we were a good match and it was only a matter of days before we decided to go on an actual date. If you ask Matt, though, he would say that I should not have done that. Frankly, it's not safe to let a random guy off Tinder drop you home. But better him than some other dude, he says. Thank you, Matt, for all of the support you've given me to get here. I couldn't ask for a calmer or more supportive partner. He is truly my better half and one of the smartest people I know. I am so lucky to have you by me on this wild ride that you probably didn't anticipate.

My friends, my family and my partner are the human anchors in my life. They have allowed me to pursue the opportunities that have brought me here. However, the groundwork for my passion has come from being brought up with Labor values. My maternal grandparents, Diane and Peter, were both rank-and-file ALP members. They never asked for anything, but they turned up on election day because they understood the importance of what a Labor government would do for this country. It hurts me that neither of them is around to see me today. We lost Peter in 2007 to cancer, but not before I learned how to wear a Kevin 07 T-shirt. We lost Diane in 2015 to heart failure. I can't articulate the way that I think they would feel to be seeing their 21-year-old granddaughter standing in the Senate. This belongs to them just as much as it belongs to me. I hope they're proud. I'll do this for them, and I hope I'm able to support the sort of government they always worked towards.

Thank you to my uncle Tony and my aunty Meredith, who are here today and would talk to me about the Labor movement at family functions. Tony is a proud organiser for the United Workers Union, which is ably led in South Australia by Demi Pnevmatikos. Meredith organises the extraordinary International Women's Day breakfast which is held in Adelaide each year and, despite having more than 2,000 tickets available, sells out each year in just hours. Together, Tony and Meredith have modelled union and feminist politics for me all my life.

Thank you also to the other members of my family who've come all this way to celebrate with me today. I know lots of people dread having to spend time with their random aunties, uncles and extended family on Christmas Day, but I certainly don't. It's a supportive family with great values, and they passed those values onto me, which eventually led me to work for state parliament and then the mighty Australian Services Union.

I'm so excited that the ASU national executive have joined me here today. Particular thanks to SA and NT secretary Abbie Spencer, as well as and Ella Waters, Scott Cowen and Declan Price-Brooks, who have all not only shown faith in me but given me the support I need to transition to this new role. Abbie, Ella and Scott took a chance on me, and they have backed me in all the way. I think all senators can probably think back to the people who got us here, because they guided us through the crazy political maze.

My time at the ASU instilled in me a deep commitment to protecting workers' rights—a commitment I now bring with me to the Senate. Today, workers' rights face a new kind of challenge. The emergence of artificial intelligence is creating new opportunities for productivity and growth, but, alongside that potential, we must ensure that workers are not left behind. The ASU represents technology and administrative workers amongst others. As the national secretary of the ASU, Emeline Gaske, has said, we 'can't resist AI any more than we could've resisted the internet'. AI systems are increasingly handling tasks that were once performed by people, often by those just starting their careers. These entry-level roles have long been essential, not only for earning a living but for developing skills and building a career. That doesn't mean that we shouldn't change with AI, but it does mean we must plan carefully to ensure that, as technology advances, so do the opportunities for workers.

As the ASU and the ACTU put to last week's productivity summit, we must make sure that the productivity benefits of AI aren't just increased profits. Workers need to benefit too, so that we don't lose so much that is precious about being Australian. That means ensuring workers are involved in implementation and investing in training and education so we can adapt and grow with these tools. This transition must be about both innovation and inclusion. We need to make sure the future of work is not only more efficient but more equitable, more human and more just.

I also very much want to thank all my Labor colleagues that I worked with on the campaign trail. Thanks to Josh Rayner and Hamish Richardson for your fun campaign directing, for the sound advice and for the memes, both the ones that got up and the ones that got put in the bin. Your dedication to my campaign and the whole campaign was invaluable. Thank you, Penny Wong and Karen Grogan, for mentoring me and helping me navigate this place. Thanks also to Don Farrell, who allowed his skilled staff to help me with media inquiries.

I join this parliament with the Labor class of 2025, which has 31 new senators and MPs, over 65 per cent women. I know I stand on the shoulders of many great feminists, like Minister Penny Wong, who pushed for the affirmative action rule in the ALP and who, despite being the longest ever serving Australian female cabinet minister, is still working to bring more women into the room. I'm also lucky enough to have some smart sounding boards outside this place. I'm grateful to Bec Lightowler and Zara Smith for giving me a place to offload and reflect.

I am acutely aware that I am the youngest member of the Labor class of 2025 by a long way, and I have so much to learn. It has already been a steep learning curve for me and my whole office. We've learnt that the computer clocks don't necessarily change when you change time zones, so someone is either always half an hour late or early. We've learnt that buying a stapler, weirdly, seems to involve at least two government departments. We've learnt that there are lots of parts of parliament you aren't allowed to film Instagram reels in. And, if you do, you get a letter from the Usher of the Black Rod and you have to take a very popular post down. We've learnt that when the media tells your staff what they want to talk to you about—well, let's just say that they're probably not telling you the whole story. And we've learnt that this first speech can come a long way down the list of speeches we've quickly put together.

But we've also had the opportunity to discuss so many important policy issues—from net zero to HECS debt reduction to the Langhorne Creek Discovery Trail. Last week I even pulled a beer whilst promoting the excise freeze. I didn't mention that I'm not a beer drinker, although it was pretty clear to the staff at the Exeter Hotel that I had never pulled a beer before. I am so honoured to be learning all of this with an amazing office team. Catherine Mullighan, Zoe Stangoulis, Lockhart Tyne, Kylie Potts and Lois Boswell—I'm lucky to have you. Thank you for all of the hard work, laughter and loyal defence.

I have said much about how it feels to be young today, but I want to stress that what also comes with youth is a desire and passion to actually change the world, and we know this will mean doing things differently. I pledge to be a fierce advocate for housing opportunity, universal and affordable health care and education, youth mental health, domestic violence prevention, regional opportunities, workers' rights and effective climate change responses. I know that we can support a real future for the young Australians of today without taking anything away from our older generations—a future where stability is not a privilege but a right, and a future where hope doesn't feel naive. I would be honoured if my term in this place acts as a symbol that we are no longer telling young people to be quiet, to wait their turn and to work harder, and that, instead, we are all asking ourselves: how can we build a socially, economically and environmentally sustainable and fair future together? If the future truly is ours, then we deserve to be heard, we deserve to be included and we deserve a fair chance to build lives that are not just sustainable but fulfilling.