26 January 2013, Adelaide, South Australia, Australia
Good afternoon.
Well, thank you for having me. I'd like to start by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land on which we meet, both past and present and respectfully thank them and yourselves for the opportunity to stand here today and to share with you part of my story, and my personal and very humble thoughts on what makes Australia remarkable.
Particularly, given I understand that Lance Armstrong today is, is running the whole confession. So, you know, quite an appealing thing to stay home and watch that Oprah run through. So thank you for coming out and making the effort.
So what does make Australia remarkable? It's a question I've been asked many times since receiving the Young Australian of the year award in 2009, and a question which is highly subjective, depending on who you ask. So yesterday morning, I did probably what every one in my generation does, and I popped the question onto Facebook, 'What makes Australia so great', and predictably there was a varied response. I dunno if everyone can read that but —.
[lists virtues] positive sunny people, the coffee, the beaches, the fact that AFL would always be on the front page of the paper even if world war III was breaking out ... how we're surrounded by an ocean patrolled by the deadliest sharks in the world, sense of community is something that really shone through for people, they really related to that sense of community that Australia seems to have, safety growing up in a community, swimming, water slides, water sprinklers, you know, people really reflected on their own childhoods a lot. What else have we got in there? healthcare system, obviously someone's over in London and a bit dirty at the healthcare system at the moment, the people, the passion and the environment, and then David, the fact that it's not America.
What becomes apparent from this is that people I think are essentially meaning making species and will identify with the Australian traits and the mannerisms which means something to us. We go about our lives witnessing events and actions, forming connections and conflicts with others. And the meaning that we attach to those events begins to form a picture or a story, If you like, around who we are as individuals and how we connect in the world.
I'd like to illustrate this to you by sharing parts of my personal story. Not only to showcase one of the 20 million lives that makes up the tapestry of Australia, but to highlight how our own personal experiences influence what it is that we notice in the world around us.
On the 30th of July in the year 2000, I received a phone call informing me that my 19 year old sister had been in an accident. She'd been out the night before with her live-in boyfriend of just three months. And as far as I knew, she'd been safely tucked away in a hotel room, sleeping off a big night. Within the hours that followed. I learned that my sister had been murdered, she was stabbed to death by her boyfriend, the man who professed to love her. This was my first real taste of violence. My first experience of losing someone that close to me and as I'm sure it's obvious to you, but wasn't so obvious to me at the time, was an incredible turning point in my life. What I didn't see at that time was this one event significant enough in its own right, would mark one of the turning points in my life, and would take me on a journey of both great isolation as I alone discovered who I was and what I valued, but also togetherness as I've walked with others that would teach me about humanity, strength, and optimism. These are the traits that I both remember and loved most about Australia and the people who populate it — humanity, strength and optimism.
Just four months following the death of my sister, my father was assaulted. He was punched twice in the face, collapsed at the scene and was rushed to hospital where he was diagnosed with a subarachnoid haemorrhage, or bleeding in the brain. Now 2012 was an extraordinary year. In many regards, two events stand out for me in particular. One is that we reached our highest heights with Felix Baumgartner skydiving from an astonishing 24 miles above the Earth. And we also explored the depths of our ocean, with James Cameron being the first man to reach the Marianna trench, over 35,000 feet deep and a figure unattainable anywhere else in the ocean.
This day, nearly 13 years, since the death of my father, I still stand in wonderment of how we can and take our people to the edges of space and the depth of the oceans, and yet the mechanics of the human brain and in particular, how to heal it largely remain a mystery to us. On the 18th of November, 2000, just four months after my sister's death, my father's life support was turned off and he passed away as a result of his injuries. He was 49 years old, a father of three, his youngest being my brother who was just 13 years of age and a recent grandfather of an 18 month old.
I've always maintained that you never finish a book on a bad chapter, and the same can be said for our lives. You might tend to have complete control over the events in your life, but you are ultimately the author and narrator of your own story. We all choose where it goes next. For me, I wanted to write myself as the heroine of my story, not the victim. I wanted my life to tell a story of a young woman who experienced tragedy and yet rose above that to create the best life that she could, in a nation where opportunities are endless and where you go next is limited only by your own imagination.
Leaving a solid career in human resources. I journeyed into the victim support and advocacy area. Over the next decade, I worked with literally thousands of families who were bereaved through homicide. Many people I speak with outside of this field expressed to me how depressing this must be and how hopeless. To be honest, it's been anything but. There's nothing more inspiring than seeing another person standing strong in the face of adversity.
I've supported a man whose only two grandchildren were murdered, as at 80 years of age, he started a fundraising group in his local town of Emerald in Queensland, and every Friday night worked the pubs and clubs raising thousands of dollars to support children's causes. I've stood by the side of a mother of a murdered son, as the offender approached her to offer a teary apology. The strength that must have taken for him to make those dozen steps across the courtroom floor and to ask for her forgiveness is something that many of us can only imagine. And the courage that it took on her part to hug him and to say, I forgive you, formed a memory that made a lasting impression on me. As I decided that day, that if she could forgive that act, then there was nothing I couldn't work through.
Our nation's history and present are peppered by stories, just like these. Australia breeds resilience. On the one hand we're a nation with incredible gifts. We're a wealthy nation. In fact, one of the wealthiest nations in the history of the world. We're blessed with growth and opportunity and we are fortunate enough to have leaders in this country who convert these gifts into prosperity for many. But we're also presented with challenges. No one could forget days in our nation's history, such as the black Saturday bushfres in 2009. Over 300 fires burned through Victoria's heartland, affecting 78 communities and taking the lives of 173 people. Or the 2011 Queensland floods, affecting 70 communities and over 200,000 people. Thirty five lives were lost, and three quarters of the state was declared a disaster zone. These events, as catastrophic and devastating as they are, bring out something in the Australian people. Where other nations loot, panic and take advantage of the population's vulnerable, Australians are arguably at our most admirable in the face of adversity. The Red Cross Victorian Bushfire appeal received an unprecedented $378 million in donations, which is around about the equivalent of every Australian donating $20. it was the largest single charitable appeal in Australian history. Whilst more than 55,000 volunteers registered to clean up Brisbane alone during the 2011 floods with thousands more simply turning up, compromising their health and safety to help a stranger in need. It's no wonder with feats like these, that Australia consistently ranks as the world's number one nation on the World Giving Index.
I love that Australians don't take ourselves too seriously, that we believe in second chances, particularly when there's sports involved, and that we celebrate and aspire to be people of substance, rather than those of fleeting fame. (For those that dunno, that's the Kardashians.).
I love that we're encouraged to challenge the status quo, that we recognise that amazing things happen on the fringes. In 2007, I was honoured to become the first victim and youngest person to be the CEO of the Queensland homicide victim support group. One of the areas I wanted to tackle was society's attitudes around violence. At the time I and others were frustrated by the lack of voice and discussion given to the topic and what we could do to address it. For example, people being encouraged by our local city council, to ring up and dub in your neighbours if they breached their water restrictions, yes, you could have someone king hit from behind in Brisbane's entertainment, precinct, and not one witness would come forward. Further to that. I was concerned that this apathy towards violence was reflected in our criminal justice system in many ways, but notably through the 'accident excuse'.
The 'accident excuse' forms an integral part of Queensland's criminal code. In fact, it's in many criminal codes throughout Australia, and holds that a person cannot be criminally responsible for an event which occurs by accident. Critically. It asks jurors to consider whether the outcome from an act of violence, was reasonably foreseeable to the ordinary man. I first encountered this section of the legislation in 2002, during my father's manslaughter trial. The jury presiding in our case were asked how foreseeable was it that the two punches dealt to my father would result in a fatal outcome. On medication, and to my surprise, the jury reached a consensus that it was not foreseeable, that two punches could result in death and they delivered a verdict of not guilty with the offender walking free from court. I then encountered the accident section of the law soon after becoming CEO of the homicide group, where during the first 12 months, two cases, which proceeded through court were found to be not guilty because of the accident,excuse. Both cases involved seemingly minimal acts of violence, one or two punches, and in both cases juries determined that death was not a foreseeable outcome to the ordinary man.
These outcomes clearly had a devastating impact upon the surviving family. Imagine for a moment, not only losing someone you love suddenly and through violence, but then being asked to accept that even though the offender committed a criminal act when they assaulted the victim, because they didn't intend to cause death, and because to the ordinary person death isn't foreseeable, that offender now walks free from court.
It was this sense of injustice that led myself and others to do two things. The first thing was the lobby government to review and change the legislation surrounding the accident excuse. The second was to start an education campaign targeting our young people particularly, reminding them about the consequences of just one punch.
The One Punch Can Kill campaign was our solution to that social problem and has since been supported by the Queensland government. I know it's saved lives. I've had young people approach me to say how they place One Punch wristbands on their hands to stop them fighting with their peers. And it's also led to a national discussion around violence, its consequences, and what we can do to challenge the Australian norms, which support it.
Since embarking on this advocacy path, I've challenged politicians, spoken openly in the media against judges' decisions and implored people to raise our expectations of lawmakers. I've had incredible media support and, largely, community goodwill towards the campaign. In other countries throughout the world, I would've been lucky to make a headline. Whilst in some countries, as a woman protesting or challenging the laws, I would've been shot.
Late last year, I started a new project called Project 24, which aims to unite Australian women towards greater safety outcomes for other women, both nationally and globally. In just a few short months we've raised a considerable sum for our first project, a domestic violence shelter in the Solomon Islands.
And it was another great reminder of two things.
One is the beauty and the necessity of freedom. Australian nationals are born into it. We inherit it for no reason other than we were the lucky ones who happened to have Australian parents. And I reluctantly admit that many of us probably take it for granted. Whilst researching for Project 24, I was gutted by some of the stories I read, where women side of Australia were victimised often purely because they were women. I read of children under 10 years of age being sold as child brides, and of a woman who was gang raped only to be told by a judge that she was too old and ugly to be sexually assaulted. For these women, freedom is an aspirational concept, something to be desired, but never achieved. One of the greatest things I love about Australia is the freedom to be a woman, to be a young person, to speak my mind, to create waves and to create change without fear.
The second reminder I've had whilst working on Project 24 and the final point of my conversation with you is the impact that one person can make in the world. I grew up in a working class suburb in Tasmania, where most of my peers didn't graduate beyond year 10. Teenage pregnancy was the norm and unemployment was high. Despite two loving and hardworking parents, I spent my early years conditioned to believe that this was the future I had to look forward to. I've spent my adult life since challenging that deep-seated belief, expecting more of myself and believing that anyone no matter their origins can create a life they're proud of.
I love that in Australia, a small town Tasmanian girl who left home at 16 years of age and failed year 12, isn't typecast as a failure. That she could go on to complete a bachelor degree. And most recently her masters. That she can become the CEO of an organisation, that she can lobby and change the law, and change the way others view victims of crime. That one day she'd be recognised nationally for this and end up travelling Australia, speaking with communities about violence, whose opinions are published through the media, develops a career as a presenter and speaker, and most recently had dinner with Prince Charles and Camilla! That's me.
You can't really see it, but it is me!
Only in Australia. It's on this note, I'd like to sincerely thank the Australia Cay Council, its sponsors and supporters, for recognising the work of this small town Tasmanian girl, amidst the amazing work that's brought to your attention each and every year. I spoke earlier of meaning. You've given my life a whole new dimension of meaning, and I'm forever grateful that you saw and believed in me. So to the council supporters and sponsors, thank you very much.
I'd also just like to throw in a shameless plug for women. We are still always looking for women to join Project 24, to help us in our fundraising efforts to improve the safety and quality of life for women globally. So if there's women out there that would be interested in joining a good team, that's how you can get in touch with me. And if anyone wants to contact me directly, it's my details. So on that note, I'd like to thank everyone for listening. I hope it encourages you to consider the meaning that you attached to being Australian and have an awesome lunch.
Thanks very much.
