On Tuesday 11 August 2026, I informed the Senate of the death, on 20 April 2026, of Kay Janet Denman, a senator for the state of Tasmania from 1993 to 2005. Honourable senators, I draw to your attention the presence in the chamber of the family of former senator Kay Denman. On behalf of all senators, I offer my condolences and welcome you to the Senate.

by leave—I move:

That the Senate records its sadness at the death, on 20 April 2026, of Kay Janet Denman, former senator for Tasmania, places on record its gratitude for her service to the Parliament and the nation, and tenders its sympathy to her family in their bereavement.

I rise on behalf of the government to acknowledge the passing of former senator for Tasmania Kay Denman on 20 April at 88 years of age. I first want to send my personal sympathy and the condolences of the government to her family, in particular her two children, Janet and Paul; Trevor, her son-in-law; her only grandson, Angus; other friends and family both here and beyond; and, of course, all who shared in the joy of knowing Kay.

Social justice is a train that usually runs late. That's how Kay Denman used to think about it. The train may not arrive on time. It may not always be there when you want it, and there will be those in need left waiting. But Kay's belief that the train would arrive, that justice would be served and that the wrongs of the past could be addressed resonated throughout her life—a refreshing perspective when held up to contemporary cynicism. Kay Denman's life is a testament to that philosophy and a demonstration of the change each of us can make. Whether it was in her decades as a teacher, her time spent in this place or the abiding commitment she showed to the Labor Party and our movement or to the people she cherished, when Kay picked a cause, saw an injustice or identified an issue, you knew she would see the journey right through to the destination.

Born on 22 July 1937, Kay Denman was of that generation who knew the hardship of growing up during World War II and never stopped for a second to complain about it. Her early years were spent in Railton, a small community on the north-west coast and a town of no more than a thousand people at the time. The asbestos factory just outside town was the only major industry nearby. Kay's father and, later, her two brothers would work there at various stages of their lives. Many who worked in that factory, including many who Kay knew, would tragically die or have serious health complications from their time working there. Fortunately, Kay's parents would come to enjoy full lives living in their small community of Railton until their passing, and she completed her schooling at the primary school there and, later, at Devonport High School. Continuing her education at the University of Tasmania, she discovered a love of teaching and education, a calling she would answer for decades, during which time she would welcome into this world her two beloved children, Paul and Janet.

While continuing her teaching career, the late seventies contained some of Kay's first steps into public life. She became involved with the Mersey Leven Community Welfare Planning Group, and, in short order, her experiences of living with disability, and those of people she knew, encouraged her to fight for children with disabilities to be cared for in local day-care facilities—a sign of things to come. Kay Denman also became a contributor to Family Planning Tasmania, where she remained involved until her early parliamentary career. She later recalled from her experience as a teacher that they 'used to use family planning to talk to the children about various issues to do with health—not just women's health but men's health too'. And, as a teacher, Kay made herself a resource for countless young people who came from rural areas who didn't have the easy access to health advice so many people take for granted.

The year 1980 brought a lot of change to Kay's life. She moved to Devonport, where she quickly became involved in local community groups. But, most importantly for all of us in this chamber, that was the year Kay joined the ALP, and those years saw Kay's involvement in local community groups continue to flourish, her activist flame well and truly ignited. Holding various positions in local branches and the state party, she garnered the respect of many for her fair-mindedness and compassionate manner.

Kay Denman's compassion, her resolve to see justice's train to the next station, was boundless. Many in this place will remember that, until 1997, homosexuality was still a criminal offence under Tasmanian law. In fact, its statutes at the time were amongst the harshest in the developed world. On World AIDS Day in 1999, Kay recounted her memories of how some chose to respond to that crisis, calling out the groups who inspired a rise in hate crimes and poisonous misinformation. She showed up early for our community and she stayed there. I am not alone in my admiration and my gratitude for what Kay did. It wasn't always easy, and it certainly wasn't always popular—Ulverstone, Tasmania being known for its high-profile anti-gay rallies at the time. Undeterred, she confronted this intolerance head on and publicly, and she was called names, harassed and even spat on. Yet it was there that was home to her office for many years—a safe space in difficult times for a vulnerable community. So Kay's allyship with LGBTI Tasmanians was a constant. It mattered, and it is remembered. And today that legacy lives on in Working It Out. Tasmania's sexuality, gender and intersex support education and advocacy service. Kay was a member of the initial committee whose report led to the Working It Out project, an organisation that has gone on to touch the lives of thousands of Tasmanians.

Kay herself admitted that her arrival to this chamber wasn't a planned endeavour. Filling a casual vacancy left by Michael Tate, who passed only in June of this year, she entered this place feeling slightly lonely. But, in delivering her first speech, she did so determined to use her time in this place to continue the work towards a more equitable society. In that speech, she set a precedent which would come to be a feature of many of her remarks over the years. She quoted Simone de Beauvoir early in her speech. Her literary references continued in her closing, where she paraphrased the Russian poet Yevtushenko. Clearly, her tastes were broad. But, referencing Yevtushenko, she said:

… I believe that justice, if it is running late or lagging behind some current development, will eventually arrive but that often we have to struggle, to wait … I aim to do something to improve the train's timetable of justice over the next six years …

And what was justice to Kay? Well, it was many things. It was the long-awaited decriminalisation and antidiscrimination legislation in her home state of Tasmania. It was spreading the benefits of technology more evenly across our society. It was improving the standards for disability carers and those they helped, and much more.

Although advocacy for inclusion and acceptance, action in aged care and disability welfare were near-constant features of Kay's public life, her effort was not limited to these fields. Kay lent her voice and advocacy as one step along the difficult path to Timor-Leste's independence. In 1999, she spoke of their right to self-determination, a position she had articulated since at least 1991, when she became a member of an East Timorese support group in Tasmania. And, close to my heart and work as Foreign minister, Kay recognised AIDS for the global health challenge it is. With characteristic rigour, she observed in a speech on World AIDS Day in 2000 that the preconditions for the spread of AIDS, which existed in other parts of the world, were not so dissimilar to conditions faced in our own region, including by our nearest neighbour, Papua New Guinea. And it is regrettable she was right. In my time as Foreign minister, we have seen HIV rates in our region continue to rise. We've also recognised that supporting our neighbours not only matters for them; it is also paramount to our own health.

I've spoken in recent years about the challenges we face when social cohesion is worn down. Kay observed the same in 2001 when she said:

… when social cohesion breaks down, the costs are self-evident.

Then she was commenting on the importance of intergenerational connection. She was commenting on the loss felt when communities lose their younger generation to economic necessity. In that same way, she recognised the cost to our social fabric when so many struggle to get an education or to own their own home.

Kay was known in this place for her sense of humour. She was quick to laugh and probably quicker to crack a joke, especially at the Canberra bubble's expense. Her affable nature extended into her parliamentary life as well as, of course, her friends in this place, who numbered many, including across the chamber. Kay Denman ended her time in this place in the way she did most things in political life: on her own terms. A 1993 interview with the Canberra Times reveals the extent of this planning, where she confirmed her intention was to hold a seat for two terms, and so just shy of 12 years since she entered this place Kay delivered her valedictory. It underlines exactly the sort of person she was. Coming into this place with big ideas and ambitious objectives, she had this to say of her time:

Then, as now, I was absolutely committed to the implementation of social justice and a more equitable society. Whilst there have been many improvements, this task still lies ahead of us.

Improvements there were—indeed. When she entered this place, homosexuality was punishable by up to 21 years of imprisonment in her home state of Tasmania. Antiracism and sex discrimination legislation were passed federally and the standard of education for Australians with disabilities rose in the national profile in no small part due to Kay's advocacy. But so much more still lies ahead, and there are still those waiting for justice to arrive.

Kay's final words in this place were a joke and a promise. She assured those of us remaining in the Senate that her and her famous collection of witch dolls 'will be watching', and it was true. I would often receive a text from Kay after an interview or during Senate question time, of which she remained an avid spectator. She would tell me to wear more red or at least more colour. She would tell me when I did well in an interview and she would ask for an updated family photo. One of her last messages to me was, 'Are you sitting next week?' and when I replied that we weren't, she said: 'Oh, blow. I shall have to find something else to do.' It is a blessing knowing that for all those years she was always cheering us on. She never left politics and she never left Labor—remaining connected to many of us who were around then. I like to think she's still watching us and laughing at the zingers that land, maybe politely smiling at the ones that don't or probably more likely rolling her eyes.

Kay was a friend, a confidant, a mentor and a comrade to me and to many more of us. We will miss her wisdom and her perspective. We will miss her kindness and her toughness. Kay saw through fools, and she didn't suffer them. But to those she loved she was fiercely loyal. To Angus, Kay was always Nanny Dragon. Janet opted for the abbreviated form of Dragon. But, whichever Kay, you wanted her on your side. She was formidable, she was warm, she was wise and she was loved by family, by friends and by our movement. So once again to Janet and Paul, to Trevor, to Angus, to all of Kay's family and loved ones and to those who were lucky to know her as a friend I extend my deepest condolences. Vale Kay Denman.

I rise on behalf of the opposition to acknowledge the life and service of former senator Kay Janet Denman, who passed away on 20 April this year at the age of 88. On behalf of the opposition, I extend our condolences to her family, friends and former colleagues and in particular to Kay's daughter Janet, to her son Paul, to her grandson Angus, to her nephew Clinton and to her son-in-law Trevor, who join us here today as we give the condolences.

Kay Denman, as we have heard, was a Tasmanian through and through. She was born in Latrobe on 22 July 1937 and raised at Railton in the north-west of the state, where her father worked in the local asbestos factory. She attended Railton Primary and Devonport High School before completing a Bachelor of Education at the University of Tasmania. She later completed a Diploma of Special Education and spent more than two decades, from 1968 to 1989, as a teacher—much of that time working in special education. She also lived with a disability, and that experience informed her later passionate interest in disability issues and support for carers.

Kay joined the Australian Labor Party in 1980 after moving to Devonport with her two children. She served as President and later Secretary of the Devonport branch and became a member of the party's national executive in 1990. In 1989, Premier Michael Field appointed her as a private secretary—a role that she held until 1992. She subsequently managed the Devonport Community Legal Centre and was an inaugural member of the Mersey Leven Family Day Care committee. On 24 August 1993, a joint sitting of the Tasmanian parliament chose her under section 15 of the Constitution to fill the Senate vacancy created by the resignation of Michael Tate. She became the 435th senator to serve in this chamber and the 62nd senator for the state of Tasmania. In 1998, she was elected in her own right and served until the expiry of her term on 30 June 2005, completing almost 12 years in the Senate.

Senator Denman's parliamentary career included substantial committee work. She served as Government Deputy Whip in the Senate from September 1995 to March 1996 and as opposition deputy whip from September 1997 to November 2001. She chaired the Employment, Education and Training Legislation Committee and, for nine years, the Senate Standing Committee of Senators' Interests. She also served for many years on the community affairs committees as well as committees examining whistleblowing, foreign affairs, defence and trade, treaties, the National Crime Authority and later the Australian Crime Commission.

Among the issues she pursued were disability rights, support for carers, access to justice, community legal centres and asbestos related disease. The latter had a particular connection to her upbringing in Railton, where she had seen people she knew affected by mesothelioma. She was also known for maintaining friendships across political lines including in particular with former Liberal senator for Western Australia Sue Knowles. Since her passing, former colleagues have spoken warmly of her contribution, in particular, to Tasmania's north-west coast and to the causes she pursued during her time in public life.

Again, to her daughter Janet, to her son Paul and to her family and friends, the opposition extends its condolences. Kay Denman gave many years of service to Tasmania and to the Australian Senate. May she rest in peace.

As Leader of the Nationals in the Senate, I rise also to associate our party with the comments of Senator Cash and Senator Wong.

Kay Denman represented Tasmania in this place for just under 12 years. She entered the Senate in August 1993, chosen by the Tasmanian parliament, to fill the casual vacancy left by the late Michael Tate, whose example taught all of us that there is indeed life after politics. Senator Denman was re-elected in her own right in 1998 and retired with the expiration of her term in June 2005. In that time, she served as a whip on both sides of the chamber, and for almost nine years she chaired the Senate Standing Committee of Senators' Interests, as well as serving on many other committees including whistleblowing inquiries.

Before she came to this place, Kay Denman was a loved teacher in Tasmanian schools for more than 20 years. Her formative years were spent in Latrobe and Railton, in the state's north-west, before she went on to serve as a private secretary to Premier Michael Field and to manage the Devonport Community Legal Centre.

In her valedictory speech, Senator Denman spoke about the cause she said she most regretted having to leave unfinished, and that was support for those affected by asbestos related disease. There are always limits to what we can do for people as politicians regardless of our very best intentions. Senator Denman told the Senate about Railton, where asbestos sheeting was produced. Her own father had worked in that factory and both her brothers had worked there too during their university holidays. Men she had gone to school with had died. In the year she gave that speech, Senator Denman said that she'd already been to three funerals. In that same speech, she also paid tribute to the Independent Tasmanian senator Brian Harradine, a man she agreed with on almost nothing. She declared that she had never doubted his integrity or his commitment to a fair outcome for the people of Tasmania.

Senator Denman's words to this place spoke about the Senate's uniqueness and the unique way we do business in this place, which the other place, in all fairness, will never understand. It also explains how, of all our states, Tasmania produces so many senators with the most varied perspectives and views. It is in that spirit that I say, as Leader of the Nationals in the Senate, with our own deeply felt perspective on regional communities and on how distance from the powerful capital cities can empower us, we recognise another political life spent genuinely and sometimes stubbornly but always in the service of our regional community. On behalf of the Nationals, I extend our sympathy to Senator Denman's son, Paul; her daughter, Janet; her wider family; and all of her former Labor colleagues. Vale, Senator Denman.

I rise to, on behalf of the Tasmanian Labor team, pay tribute to Senator Kay Denman, a life member of the Tasmanian branch of the Labor Party—our highest honour. Kay was a proud Tasmanian. She grew up in Railton, a small town where the cement works were part of everyday life. Like so many people in that community, she did not grow up knowing the danger that asbestos posed. As a child, Kay and the other local children played around the cement works and in the waste dumps. As she later recalled, they would use the materials to build things and even throw it at each other. Workers would come home from the factory with their clothes covered with asbestos dust, and the material was part of the fabric of everyday life in the town.

It is difficult for us now to imagine that this could have been considered normal, but Kay carried those memories with her, and, as she grew older, she saw the terrible consequences for people she knew and for the community she loved. Mesothelioma and other asbestos related diseases touched the lives of many in Railton, and Kay became a determined advocate for those who were suffering. Her advocacy was not abstract. It came from knowing the people and knowing the place. She understood that behind every statistic was a person, a family and a community carrying the consequences of decisions made many years before. That particular connection gave her advocacy a particular strength. She continued to pursue the issue throughout her time in the Senate and beyond. In fact, when she reflected on leaving parliament, one of the things that concerned her most was that she would no longer be able to continue advocating for people affected by asbestos related diseases. That was Kay. Her politics always came back to people.

Her advocacy for people with disability grew from her community work, including from her involvement in the Mersey Leven Family Day Care committee, where she fought for children with disabilities to have access to day care. Her support for gay and lesbian rights came at a time when speaking up on those issues was not always easy, but she stood with people affected by HIV and AIDS and remained involved with the Tasmanian Council on AIDS and Related Diseases long after she left parliament, and they made her a life member of TasCARD. She cared deeply about health, mental health, education, social welfare and access to services. These weren't simply terms on a political agenda; they were people.

That is why Kay's contribution was sometimes quiet but never insignificant. As one of her Senate colleagues said in their valedictory tribute, Kay was not someone who sought the limelight. She was someone who made sure that the voices of compassion, caring and her local community were heard. I think that helps explain something very special about Kay. Even after she left the Senate, she never really stopped. Even while living at Meercroft Care aged-care centre, her interest in politics never left her. Anne Urquhart, member for Braddon, who is in the chamber today, has spoken about her conversations with Kay, the kind of one-on-one conversations where you could sit down with Kay and, in Anne's own words: 'You very quickly find yourself talking about politics, current affairs and whatever was happening in the world. Kay wanted to know, she wanted to discuss it, and, of course, she wanted to give you her view. Those conversations were never just small talk. They were expressions of who Kay was. She remained interested in the world around her, she remained engaged with public life, and she remained wonderfully opinionated. There was still that spark in her. She would ask questions, challenge an argument, tell you what she thought and quite often leave you with something to think about. That was one of the things that made Kay such a wonderful person to talk to, and she maintained that connection with the Senate itself. She would text during question time to let Anne know she was watching. If the House of Representatives was being broadcast instead of the Senate, she was not happy, because the Senate was special to Kay. It had been such an important part of her life. It was there where she had fought for people and causes she believed in and where she'd been able to bring the experiences of her community into the national party.'

Even years later, Kay still wanted to know what was happening there. She was still watching, still listening, still forming an opinion and still caring. Perhaps that is how I will remember Kay most warmly—not simply as Senator Denman, not just the woman who represented Tasmania for 12 years, but as Kay, a woman with an extraordinary curiosity about people and the world around her, a woman who cared deeply about fairness and compassion and a woman who would make an ordinary conversation feel important simply because she was genuinely interested in what you had to say. Her political life was an extension of that character. She listened to people. She understood their experiences, and then she tried to do something about them. That is a wonderful legacy, and it is one that Tasmanian Labor can be proud of. I extend our deepest condolences to Kay family, her friends and all those who loved her. We will remember her with great affection and great pride. Vale Kay Denman.

I rise to associate myself with the words from colleagues around the chamber in relation to the late Senator Kay Denman. I acknowledge the words that have been used to describe her, and the term 'social justice warrior' is one that's been quite prominent, and it certainly was one that was reflected through her work in what I will call our local community on the north-west coast of Tassie. When I grew up in Railton, my father-in-law and brother both worked at the cement plant up there—in fact, Peter spent some time working in the asbestos sheet plant. Many of us understood the work that Kay did in support of people who were suffering asbestos based diseases all too well. Having worked in the construction industry before 1989, when asbestos was prohibited in building products, I myself was exposed to asbestos as a building material during my time on the tools on the north-west coast of Tassie.

When I first came here, Kay came over to offer me some quiet, gentle advice to a new senator. That was important to me and was something important that I understood. I think that's reflective of the person that Kay was. It wasn't all about the politics. It was about getting things done for people. If she could create relationships and develop relationships to ensure that she got the outcomes that she was looking to achieve, that's what she would do.

In the years after she left the parliament, she and Mary Binks, who was the mayor of Devonport when I served on the Devonport council, would go to the movies together. They would often call in for a bit of a chat about politics to find out what was going on, as we've just heard, but also to leave a message. It might have been some advice or to suggest something that I might be able to do in support of a particular issue that she was continuing to be concerned about.

Senators have talked about that period in the late nineties when the north-west coast of Tassie was probably one of the toughest places in the country in relation to gay law reform. I remember the rallies. I remember some of the rhetoric that was being driven through our community at that time, and it was really very, very difficult. It was difficult for so many people. The collective sigh of relief that I felt Tasmanians give when the Rundle government finally changed the legislation to deal with the issues that were impacting on our community at the time was a really important moment for us all.

I think the fact that in Tasmania we now have some of the more progressive legislation is a tribute to people like Kay, who was prepared to lead the fight. Not all had the courage to do that. But Kay was prepared to lead the fight on those particular issues. That courage, I think, should be acknowledged and reflected by those of us who were there and about in politics at that point in time. It was really important work that she did.

She worked in a number of areas. She managed the Devonport community legal centre, making sure that people got access to justice. Interestingly, she was an inaugural member of the Mersey Leven family day care committee. Here we are today, still talking about support for people to get child care. She was a leading player in that in our region.

It was interesting to go back to the Advocate and the tribute that was published on her and the comments from her Labor colleagues who were asked to comment and the acknowledgement of Kay as a social justice warrior. There were comments from Senator Wong; Amanda Diprose, who's on the Central Coast Council, but also someone who is strong in that area; Lisa Singh; and, of course, Anne Urquhart, whom I acknowledge in the chamber now—all of whom knew Kay well and would receive the calls and the advice and, as we've heard, the conversations within the chamber.

She said she arrived unexpectedly, but she certainly had a plan when she came here. She knew what the issues were that she wanted to focus on, and she made sure that she did go after those things and progress them. As I said, she had the courage, particularly in really difficult times, to deal with some of the issues that were really important reforms for our communities to go through.

In her valedictory speech, she said something that struck me, particularly in the context of some of the conversations we've been having in the last few days. She said:

During the week more than one of my colleagues asked me how I managed to remain tolerant during my time here.

And she was tolerant. She was an easy person to talk to. She continued:

The answer probably lies in the fact that I never believe in playing the person. To me, it is the cause or the issue that is fundamental. I accept that there are others who may have, and are entitled to have, a different view. It is important that we respect that. It has therefore been my task to try and convince them as to where they are going wrong.

I think that's a message from Kay, from her valedictory over 20 years ago, that could be useful in the current context.

I noted, in a piece in the Canberra Times, that she'd stood for preselection prior to coming here the first time and, like so many of us, wasn't successful the first time. This piece said that she had stood unsuccessfully for preselection in 1989, but, when the vacancy arose, she gained a convincing 70 per cent of preselection ballots as one of four candidates. I reckon there are plenty of us in this room who would be happy to receive that strength of vote in our Senate preselections. That's probably more of an insider comment, but that's a fair indication to me of the respect that Kay had within the Labor Party at that point in time, having served as branch secretary and branch president in the Devonport branch, served on the national executive and created and generated a series of relationships with people across the party.

Someone who can't say anything here in the chamber today, because she doesn't hold a seat—but aspires to—and has had a couple of preselection moments herself, is sitting in the advisor's box here. Jacqui was taught by Kay, and she came to me this morning with a request to note some reflections of her time when Kay was her grade 3 teacher at Latrobe Primary School. She remembers Kay like we do: as a warm and kind person who had a genuine ability to make children feel comfortable, encouraged and valued.

Jacqui said: 'I especially remember her helping me to understand mathematics. While it may not have been overly difficult for some, it was not always simple to me, but Mrs Denman had the patience and the ability to explain things in a way that I could understand. She never made me feel that asking for help was a weakness. In fact, she encouraged it and gave house points for having an inquisitive nature. Those early impressions have stayed with me. They reminded me that sometimes the greatest impact we have on others is not through grand gestures but through kindness, patience and taking the time to help somebody believe in themselves. My sincerest condolences to her family, Paul and Janet and all of those who Mrs Denman taught. How lucky we were.'

I would like to offer to Paul and Janet, and their families, my sincere condolences. We are poorer as a community with the passing of Kay. She was a kind and understanding but determined person here in the Senate, and she continued to do that after she left. As has been mentioned, she wasn't short of a chat, but she would always call with a quiet word and, in the context of things like people suffering with asbestos related diseases, continued to advocate long after she left. That sort of work, I think, is a real tribute to her. Vale, Kay, and sincerest condolences to Janet and Paul and their families.

Question agreed to, honourable senators joining in a moment of silence.