Second Reading Speech - House of Assembly
Wednesday 8 March 2023
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Intro
Thank you Mr Speaker.
Naa Marni. Ngai Nari Jayne Stinson. Marni Napudnee. Kaurna Myrna Ngadlu. Kaurna Yarta Tempininthi Ngaitalya.
I rise to support this Bill – and I rise to support what this Bill means – a voice for Aboriginal South Australians.
Hearing from – and listening to – Aboriginal people – the first and original inhabitants of this land we all love.
It is a voice all of us in this place, and in our community, can do much more to listen to - and act upon.
There are many challenges we face. And there is so much to do in this place. But for me, there are two overriding challenges for our generation – climate change and reconciliation.
The plight of Aboriginal Australians is something I’ve thought long and hard about for much of my adult life – and even my childhood.
Issues of race and my observations of the experiences of our Aboriginal people has been woven into my story – from childhood experiences through to my career as a journalist – and most especially the transformative time I spent in my 20s working and living in north west WA and Central Australia.
Those memories and stories and experiences and events have altered my views and deepened them over the decades. And also added many layers of complexity.
Childhood memories
Having grown up in several towns across country Australia I heard people talk about Aboriginal people but rarely in my young life was I exposed to Aboriginal culture. It wasn’t something really discussed or taught at my schools.
It was a period of time when stereotypes about Aboriginal people ran rife (I’m sure you can imagine the slurs) and those comments were only really starting to be called out. It was a time when in country towns like mine, the language about Aboriginal people was sometimes coarse – and frankly racist.
I was barely a teenager when Pauline Hanson came to the fore – and tensions ramped up.
In my little coastal town, Hanson held a rally and hundreds of people turned up. Adults I knew. I remember feeling surprised so many shared her views – and were willing to picket the streets in support of her opinions.
I remember talking to my friend at school about it. I really had no concept she was Torres Strait Islander.
I remember her with awesome curly blonde hair .. she was very funny and cheeky .. and popular .. and the best at the 100 metre sprint – which I’d always hoped to win, but never did.
At school I was oblivious to her race. I’d never asked her about it and I’d also never asked any other students their backgrounds either.
The first time I ever turned my mind to her Aboriginality was when I saw her pain at some boys latching on to the sentiments expressed by Hanson and parroting them at her in the school yard.
She defended herself and yelled back. But I think she was known as a naughty kid from then on.
Skip forward 20 years and I saw her at our high school reunion, I spent ages chatting with her over a beer. Our lives had turned out so differently. She had six kids, she’d been in violent relationships, she still lived in our home town.
She was the same funny, cheeky person from school, but all grown up. Harder and wiser.
She had led a hard life in many ways, with intense loss and tragedy, but she is also a brilliant caring mum and a good person. I felt really lucky to be able to see her again and soak up a moment of her sunshine.
But of course I did wonder how her Aboriginality had shaped her life so far. How much of the ingrained generations of trauma and racism infiltrated and directed her life.
I won’t traverse the details, but suffice to say many of the key indicators of disadvantage that we know exist for Aboriginal people were marked in her story.
We know Aboriginal kids are less likely to complete high school or uni. We know the tragedies of child and infant loss, of child protection interventions, of contact with the justice system and incarceration, of domestic violence, of unstable housing, of ill health, are features of many Aboriginal people’s lives.
Many of my colleagues have traversed those appalling statistics as part of this debate.
I often reflect on her experience and what I would want, what she would want, and what we all would want for her children – a life that is freer and more just. Safer and fairer.
North West WA and Central Australia
When I finished uni, I got a job with the ABC in North West WA. I covered huge native title agreements and had the great privilege to sit down with Aboriginal people to eat kangaroo cooked in the earth, hear amazing dreamtime stories, experience traditional dancing – all in the dust of the most remote parts of our nation.
But I also reported on the degradation of the Burrup Peninsula and the destruction of the oldest petroglyphs - or rock art – in the world. I reported on the conflict of Aboriginal heritage and mining, and sky rocketing crime and incarceration rates among Aboriginal people.
I also learned of the Flying Foam Massacre on the Burrup Peninsula close to Karratha where I lived.
In short, in February 1868, a policeman abducted a young Aboriginal woman at gunpoint. Nine Juburara men staged a rescue, and the police officer was speared in the attempt at Nickol Bay.
What followed was the government-authorised systematic annihilation of the Jaburara people, with pearlers and pastoralists assembling mounted parties to murder groups of Aboriginal people – including women and children. The atrocities saw the near extinction of the Juburara.
I don’t think many could claim those early atrocities, violence and dispossession haven’t influenced the position of Aboriginal people who live today. And it’s a familiar story across our country and it’s our great national shame.
After several years reporting in WA, I moved to Alice Springs as the ABC’s TV reporter.
My experiences there were joyful and celebratory and beautiful and breathtaking. Filled with song, and rich culture, and sweeping landscapes and amazing art. Curious characters and unique insights.
But my time in Central Australia was also undeniably challenging, conflicting and confronting.
Some memories from our red heart will never leave me and were horrific, vile and shocking.
This was in the period immediately before and during the intervention – and I was reporting on the depraved and hopeless situations many men, women and children were living in.
Conditions that exceeded what I’d seen in the slums of India or poorest parts of Africa.
I had first-hand experiences of violence and fear myself, and reported on shocking events, but much of my knowledge of the true travesties of Central Australia at that time were by listening to heart-wrenching stories told to me by Aboriginal people in my work as a reporter.
And it was hard to get people to share those stories. So when they did, it really meant something to me and it’s stayed with me.
I actually find many of my most shocking memories – and even the more devastating stories I reported on at the time – unspeakable. The level of violence and human tragedy and pain inflicted upon fellow humans is beyond anything I can put into words.
The depth of violence, sexual assault and paedophilia, mental illness, addiction – coupled with the lack of education, health care and economic support - was mind blowing.
And it was inextricable from the dispossession and trauma of the European arrival that preceded it.
I don’t share these insights to shame or shock – though it should be shocking – but to draw the link between invasion and where Aboriginal people find themselves today.
Living and working in Central Australia shaped my thinking about Aboriginal Affairs policies - and my motivations in my career.
In my teens (like many teens) I thought I knew about Aboriginal issues and how we might best address them. But I was so wrong. I knew nothing. And even now I am aware of the limitations of my capacity to understand the experience of being Aboriginal in this nation.
I viewed all this from a place of great privilege.
Even as a young, underpaid junior reporter – often working alone or with just one other person – I still held a privileged position.
The situations I put myself in as a reporter were of my own free will. Largely, I was free to leave and I was fundamentally safe.
That included reporting on lawless riots, venturing into communities with violent petrol sniffers (and almost being stabbed), and seeking to interview people who are likely to react badly to my approach. Even attending footy games for fun on the weekend, where weapons were secreted across the grounds in preparation for conflict – or defence. And going out at night in Alice always was – and still is – very risky – especially for young women.
My ability to walk away if I chose – was so starkly different to the position some Aboriginal people found, and still find, themselves in. For economic, mental, physical, historical, family, geographical, safety and cultural reasons – they cannot leave.
The tragedy and trauma persists - and is inescapable for many.
Altogether my time in Central Australia was a revelation. And it was life changing for me.
The sharp collision of so much beauty, set hard against so much despair.
I wouldn’t give up that time for anything, and I am immensely grateful for the opportunity to bear witness and tell the stories of Aboriginal people via the ABC.
But I am glad there are now many more Aboriginal people telling their stories themselves, and I look forward to even more doing so in future – whether directly or through the increasing numbers of Aboriginal reporters and First Nations media.
Self- determination
So what did I learn from my time in Alice Springs?
Amid all the contradictions – was there any clarity?
To be frank, I’m still learning and reflecting and putting a name to it. And the conversations I have now with Aboriginal people continue to shape and inform my own approach. There are many different experiences of Aboriginal people across this nation - and my insight living in Central and North Western Australia is just a sliver.
But there, I learned that intergenerational trauma is deep, and dark, and almost unfathomable.
I learned that there is no quick fix. There is no one policy or thing that will solve the immense and life-threatening problems faced by Aboriginal people. There need to be lots of actions and investments and policies. There is an immense amount to do.
… But critically I learned that self-determination and community empowerment is key. It is surely at the root of the answers we seek.
If dispossession and disempowerment is at the origin of this generational tragedy … then surely, self-determination, representation and empowerment is at least part of the answer. And the place to start.
Surely having a platform to discuss and be heard – to negotiate – to inform – is part of the answer.
Or maybe put another way - Voice. Treaty. Truth.
Role of non-Aborignal people in reconcilliation
The varied experiences I’ve had since - as a reporter, victim advocate and now an elected member - have seen me reflect upon what I’ve observed and experienced. And I’ve drawn upon that knowledge repeatedly in the work I do.
And the question does arise – what role do I play?
For so many of us there’s a question about whether we even have a right to discuss and raise these issues as non-Aboriginal people.
Are we drowning out someone else’s views?
Are my experiences contributing anything to the debate?
What should I be doing with this feeling that we need to do – well, something?
These days we have the concept of an ally, which I think provides a useful way to think of ourselves as non-Aboriginal people in the fight.
But I also think that those of us sitting in here, need to go a bit further, and recognise that we are the holders of power right now. And we can use that power – and share that power – in the ways that we feel advance the causes.
So I really see this Bill – the First Nations Voice Bill – as an incredibly powerful exercise of our power.
We are not diluting the Parliament’s power or that of any one of us here – we are using our power to extend greater power (greater voice) to another group.
A group that has been denied that access to voice and power for so long.
A group like no other.
A group who are the original and first inhabitants of Australia. A group that did not choose to share or surrender their power and authority in this land.
This Bill is the answer – one of many answers – to the question of what we here can do.
We can fully commit ourselves to self-determination for Aboriginal people.
The Voice and this Bill – to me is an exercise in very practical self-determination.
The kind of self- determination and self-direction that provides a solid foundation for future acts that achieve real change.
By voting for this Voice Bill we’re fronting up to the fact that the things we’ve been doing haven’t worked, and that we want to find things that do work, and that self-determination surely lies at the heart of the answers we need to find alongside Aboriginal people.
Not a threat
The Voice is not a threat – it is an opportunity. An opportunity for our Parliament to be informed, to listen, to engage, to seek answers, to build a relationship, to reconcile.
The Local and State Voices are advisory bodies only. The Voice is not a third chamber of Parliament, and is not responsible for administering programs or issuing grants. However, it will be a powerful voice directly to Parliament and Government on the issues affecting First Nations people.
There is no threat there and no harm done.
The Uluru Statement from the Heart – from which this Bill draws it’s origins – is a generous invitation from First Nations peoples to the nation, to walk together for a better future.
This Bill delivers at a state level on the triple-pronged call for action in the Statement – this is the Voice part of ‘Voice. Treaty. Truth’. It’s the first step along a longer journey.
Marshall Bill
I accept that others have had different ideas about how this Voice might have been achieved in SA – and I commend the former government and the former Premier for the work done on the previous Bill.
It should be seen as part of the work towards what’s now before the Parliament.
That work was valuable in arriving where we are now – with a fully elected body, elected directly by Aboriginal people.
I am encouraged at the amount of consultation and the depth of that consultation with Aboriginal people to inform the refinement of the model. Six months of solid engagement – but of course a much longer period of contemplation and information drawn from wider sources, including the Uluru Statement from the Heart.
I want to thank Kaurna, Narungga, Ngad-juri and Ngarrindjeri man, the Voice Commissioner Dale Agius – a friend and someone I admire – for his tireless work and leadership.
There are divergent views in the Aboriginal community about how the Voice should work – and that’s to be expected and embraced. But he has done the work to reflect what the Aboriginal community want.
That diligent process gives me great faith in this approach and confidence in voting for it. Sure, it may be further refined in future, but I’m confident this is a workable structure.
SA leading the way
I’m also really proud to be part of a team – and that includes a Parliament – that is leading the way on delivering a Voice.
We often tout that SA is a progressive and history-making state, but some of those ground-breaking moments are well behind us in history.
It is a great source of pride to be standing here, contributing to this legislation, which truly is nation-leading.
This Bill has an important role in paving the way for the Voice Referendum later this year.
I’m delighted SA is forging a path and will show how a Voice is not so scary, can be executed well, and does not limit the power of others – but shares it.
I’m also excited about the connections that will be forged between this South Australian Voice and that of the national Voice – which I so dearly hope Australians support.
What will this change?
Many have asked – what will this Bill – this Voice – actually achieve? It is not a silly question.
It’s good to have a sense of urgency to deliver practical change and I understand concerns about symbolism over action.
But it’s foolish to think of this Bill as a panacea and that is not what we’re voting for in this place.
Will the Voice eliminate intergenerational trauma? No sadly it will not.
Will it bring total equality – no it won’t?
What it will bring is a greater capacity to speak and be heard – a formal avenue in which listening to Aboriginal people is front and centre.
What it will bring is a valuable lense over the legislation we make in this place. A lense that will improve rather than hamper our work.
And it provides a solid and valuable foundation for further action – led by Aboriginal people for Aboriginal people, alongside all Australians.
….It hasn’t escaped me that there is a difficult conflict inherent in any model of interaction with the Parliament.
An unavoidable fact.
This apparatus asks Aboriginal people to engage in an intrinsically European institution – that of the Parliament – in order to be heard.
I can understand how that is challenging. I can understand why some would not want to entertain such a prospect – at a state or federal level.
Maybe in future we’ll find ways to hear Aboriginal people to a greater extent on their terms – like we have with Nunga Courts and circle courts - rather than within the European structures that have been used historically to oppress.
However, there is also something about Aboriginal people taking their place in this structure and using it for a different purpose that how it’s been wielded in the past – using it as a forum to express their will – rather than other using it to suppress them.
In reality, this is the system we have and it is the system we’re all working within – until we find ourselves a better alternative!
Thank you
Lastly, I want to express a few thank yous.
Firstly thank you to all the Aboriginal people who’ve shared their thoughts experiences and stories with me. All those conversations inform my approach today and will continue to do so. Thank you for sharing your language and culture and being so willing to extend the hand of reconciliation.
Thank you to all the people who contributed their views to the consultation on this Bill.
Thank you to all the people who are thinking carefully about how they’ll vote in the upcoming recommendation and are willing to support Aboriginal people. Thank you to everyone who is talking to their friends and relatives about how the national Voice will be an asset to our nation – not risk.
Thank you to Dale Agius who I spoke of earlier – your leadership is instrumental to where we are right now.
And a very sincere and heartfelt thanks to our Aboriginal Affairs Minister Kyam Maher and his team – including Adviser Roland Ah Chee.
Kyam - I know big change doesn’t come without big personal sacrifices. I know you put your heart and soul into this and I know that’s come with a price.
I hope you and your staff are watching this debate and will watch the passage of this Bill – and you can absorb the moment and realise all you’ve worked for is worth it.
Many of us in this place can only dream of making the difference to others lives that you are making. Thank you.
Closing
Finally Mr Speaker – this is a moment in time.
To give a greater Voice to a people is remarkable.
And will lead to more remarkable actions in future.
I hope this moment will make so many moments in Aboriginal people’s lives ahead - so much better.