Dean Smith: 'Our country has offered a loving embrace to its own' , Third reading, Marriage Equaltiy Bill - 2017

29 November 2017, Canberra, Australia

Just under three years ago, I moved from no to yes. At 30,000 feet on a flight from Perth to Albany, I reflected on the life of Tori Johnson. Tori lost his life in the Lindt Cafe siege. He was brave, he was courageous and he had a partner named Thomas. On that flight, I thought of their love, I thought of their loss, and it changed me. I realised that people with real lives deserve their love to be blessed and affirmed by the institution of marriage if they so choose.

I am, as many of you know, a man who draws strength from institutions. They are the structures that bind us as communities and as a nation. So I begin by acknowledging my pride in this institution, the Australian Senate. Every senator has brought honour to their state and to the pillar of democracy to which we all belong. This has been a respectful debate—but, I should add, not an insipid one. It has drawn out intellect, wisdom, judgement and compassion. In this debate, we saw the soul of the Attorney; the lived experience of Senator Wong, Senator Rice and Senator Pratt; the conscience of those who oppose this bill; and the conviction of those who supported it. In a time when institutions are questioned, we have seen in this debate how our parliament was meant to work—where life experiences inform decisions, where amendments are weighted and assessed against good argument and where we debate according to an argument's merits rather than taking the political shortcut of questioning each other's motives or integrity. The real question out of this debate is: why isn't our parliament like this more often?

Over the past few years, there have been times when it has been tough to not be part of the majority of my party on this issue. I had to find my place where my conscience and my duty could be reconciled. So I say to all in this chamber: be kind to those who, in following their conscience, choose a different path. They have my respect, and I ask you to give them yours. There it is a cost that accompanies the privilege of service, but that cost should never include giving up one's conscience. It is for that reason that the bill includes protections for religious liberty. I am a conservative. A true conservative does not believe that they are the embodiment of all wisdom. Conservatives are not supposed to resist change; they are simply supposed to weigh change. We weigh change by considering the past as well as listening to our contemporaries. I acknowledge all in this debate.

The debate confirmed the evolutionary nature of this bill. The lack of substantive amendments indicates we got the balance correct. The bill expresses a faith in the current architecture of Australia's religious protections. The architecture is precise. It has allowed a multitude of faiths to thrive, and that will not change. The bill is the fulfilment of the people's will to extend equality to all citizens and it takes away no religious or civil right from anyone.

To those who have opposed this bill, I say: there is enormous goodwill to ensure that this is not the triumph of one group over another but the advancement of the sum of freedoms for all of us. Unlike so much of what characterises modern politics, this is not the triumph of one politician over another or even one party over another. Instead, it has restored faith in our parliament and in this Senate. Maybe, again, there's a broader lesson to be learned.

Like much of what we do here, most of the real winners we will never meet. We will never truly know what it means for the young Australian boy or girl who is working out that they are gay, lesbian, intersex or transgender and who quickly realises they have nothing to fear. We will never meet the thousands of families that will bless their children at marriage ceremonies that will occur because of this bill. Those parents do not think of their children as LGBTI; they think of them by their names. To their parents, they have no rainbow initial, because they see them as flesh and blood. They are kin, and that is what matters most.

And this house, the embodiment of the states, and the other place, the embodiment of our citizens, want the very same thing. We want the very best for our citizens: that they are loved and can be loved. We want them to experience joy and hope, and to experience exhilaration and its companion, heartache, because that is what it means to be human.

In a world where there are more tensions between people than ever, our country has offered a loving embrace to its own. As the Attorney-General said, in the course of a generation, we have seen the LGBTI community move from rejection to tolerance, from tolerance to acceptance, and now from acceptance to embrace. We should be proud of that. I certainly am.

This debate has demonstrated that the bill proposed is evolutionary in nature. There are no substantive changes. Is it perfect? No. As senators Di Natale and McKim admitted in their second reading speeches, it is a compromise. As Senator Kitching reminded us, it even brings together senators Rhiannon and Leyonhjelm—at least for a few brief moments. But a few brief moments of joy is what our country has ached for, because we know it will result in a lifetime of joy for so many others.

As we prepare to vote, we should recall this has been a very long path. Some have put this case for a decade and a half; others, like myself, are latecomers. For all, it has been an accepting and welcoming cause. The Good Book says:

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

We can say today, after so long, that our hopes are no longer deferred.

Most in this chamber came from a party, and our parties are in so many ways the modern tribes of our nation. And let me, for a brief moment, express my pride in my party. Liberal and National voters voted yes—71 out of 76 coalition seats voted yes—because coalition voters understand that this reflects the best of our Liberal and conservative traditions.

It is correct to say many people across this chamber can take pride in their role in bringing this to a successful conclusion at this historic juncture. I especially want to thank my coalition Senate colleagues Senator Birmingham, Senator Payne, Senator Reynolds and Senator Hume.

If there is a lesson for my party from this debate, it is that we should not fear free debates. We should not fear conscience. The more the debate was resisted, the more the strength was found to fight for it. At some later point, we should reflect on how we can avoid that tortured process from ever having to happen again.

This debate has been good for the soul of the country, it's been good for the soul of this chamber and it will be good for the souls of LGBTI children throughout our great country. It's been good for us all, no matter whether you were a 'yes' senator or a 'no' senator, because we lived out the call of the saint: in essential things, unity; in important things, diversity; in all things, generosity. Unity, diversity, generosity—they are the hallmark of this bill, they are the hallmark of this chamber and they are the hallmark of our shared great country, Australia. I commend the bill.

Honourable senators: Hear, hear!

Maurice Williamson: 'Be ye not afraid', Big Gay Rainbow speech - 2013

16 April 2013, Parliament House, Wellington, New Zealand

I've had a reverend in my local electorate say that the 'gay onslaught will start the day this bill is passed.' So we are struggling to know what the gay onslaught will look like. We don't know if it will come down the Pakaranga highway as a series of troops or whether it will be a gas that flows the electorate and blocks us all in.

I also had a Catholic priest tell me that I was supporting an unnatural act. I found that interesting coming from someone who has taken an oath of celibacy for his whole life. Celibacy... I haven't done it so I don't know what it's about.

I also had a leader tell me I would burn in the fires of hell for eternity and that was a bad mistake because I've got a degree in physics. I used the thermodynamic laws of physics. I put in my body weight and my humidity and so on. I assumed the furnace to be at 5000 degrees and I will last for just on 2.1 seconds. It's hardly eternity. What do you think?

I also head some more disgusting claims about adoption. Well, I have got three fantastic adopted kids. I know how good adoption is, and I have found some of the claims just disgraceful. I found some of the bullying tactics really evil. I gave up being scared of bullies when I was at primary school.

However, a huge amount of the opposition was from moderates, from people who were concerned, who were seriously worried, about what this bill might do to the fabric of our society. I respect their concern. I respect their worry. They were worried about what it might do to their families and so on.

Let me repeat to them now that all we are doing with this bill is allowing two people who love each other to have that love recognised by way of marriage. That is all we are doing. We are not declaring nuclear war on a foreign State. We are not bringing a virus in that could wipe out our agricultural sector forever.

We are allowing two people who love each other to have that recognised, and I cannot see what is wrong with that for neither love nor money. I just cannot. I cannot understand why someone would be opposed. I understand why people do not like what it is that others do. That is fine. We are all in that category.

But I give a promise to those people who are opposed to this bill right now. I give you a watertight guaranteed promise.

The sun will still rise tomorrow. Your teenage daughter will still argue back to you as if she knows everything. Your mortgage will not grow. You will not have skin diseases or rashes or toads in your bed. The world will just carry on.

So do not make this into a big deal.

This bill is fantastic for the people it affects, but for the rest of us, life will go on.

Finally, can I say that one of the messages I had was this bill was the cause of our drought. Well, if any one you follow my Twitter account, you will see that in the Pakuranga electorate this morning, it was pouring with rain. We had the most enormous big gay rainbow across my electorate. It has to be a sign. If you are a believer, it is certainly a sign.

Can I finish, for all those who are concerned about this, with a quote from the bible. It is Deuteronomy. I thought Deuteronomy was a cat out of the musical 'Cats,' but never mind. The quote is Deuteronomy 1:29. 'Be ye not afraid.'"

Penny Wong: 'We love our children', Opposing plebiscite on same sex marriage - 2017

9 August 2017, Parliament House, Canberra, Australia

Penny Wong is an openly gayshadow minister for the Labor opposition, opposing the government's legislation to conduct a plebiscite on same sex marraige.

This motion is not about giving Australians a say. This motion is about weakness and division on that side of the Parliament. This motion is about a government so divided that they have to handball a hard decision to the community to make it because they can't make it in their party room. That is what this is about. No amount of words can hide from the fact that this is one big massive handball, because this is a government without a leader, utterly divided on this issue. That is what this vote is about.

The reality is this is all a stunt and everybody knows that. Now, I have a lot of regard for Senator Mathias Cormann. He is generally a very decent person to deal with and he is trying valiantly to create some logic over what is an utterly ridiculous position. It is a stunt and an expensive stunt. There are a lot of things you could do with $120 million: GP visits, more teachers. I am sure we can go through a whole range of things that $122 million can be spent on far better than a vote that is not going to be binding.

We talk a lot about democracy and Australians having their say. But Eric Abetz is not going to change his vote if this is successful. Senator [Cory] Bernardi is not going to change his position. It is like one big opinion survey to get over the fact the Liberal party room can't make a decision because they are so divided on the issue and because Malcolm Turnbull, regrettably, has not had the courage of his conviction. This is a vote whose sole aim is to stop the members of this Parliament being given a chance to do their job and vote. This is a vote because some in the Coalition can never countenance equality and they are never going to change their minds. They simply cannot countenance people like me and others being equal. Simple as that. They are not going to change their minds on this issue. If you just bring on a vote, we can save the country $120 million and frankly, put us all out of our misery of having to keep talking about this issue, because, frankly, the country has moved on.

I would also make this point – we do live in a parliamentary democracy. We are elected to do a job. Sometimes we do it well, sometimes we do it less well. We are elected to come here and vote, to make decisions. This country didn't have a plebiscite or a postal ballot on the Racial Discrimination Act, the Sex Discrimination Act, native title legislation, scrapping of the white Australia policy, whether women should get equal pay. I don't think Tony Abbott took to a people's vote cutting billions out of health and education. I don't think the government took to a people's vote whether corporations should get a big tax cut, but on this they want us to have our say. 

I want to comment on the comment by Senator Cormann this could be a unifying moment and that people could be respectful. I hope that people watching me in this debate would not think I am a shrinking violet. I know what a hard debate is like. But I tell you, have a read of some of the things which are said about us and our families and then come back here and tell us this is a unifying moment. The Australian Christian lobby described our children as the stolen generation. We love our children. And I object, as do every person who cares about children, and as do all those couples in this country, same-sex couples who have kids, to be told our children are a stolen generation. You talk about unifying moments? It is not a unifying moment. It is exposing our children to that kind of hatred.

I wouldn't mind so much if you were prepared to speak out on it. If the Prime Minister was prepared to stand up and say "that is wrong". Maybe he can stand up for some people who don't have a voice. Because we know the sort of debate that is already there. Let me say, for many children in same-sex couple families and for many young LGBTI kids, this ain't a respectful debate already.

Labor will be opposing this motion and we do so because of our long-standing position, which has been considered by the party, and our opposition to a plebiscite. What I would say to the crossbench is you made the right decision last time. Please make the same decision on this occasion.

Hasan Minhaj: "There are 294 sitting members of Congress that have accepted contributions from the NRA", RTCA Dinner - 2015

Hasan Minhaj is a Daily Show correspondent. This was delivered in the aftermath of the horrific mass shotting at a gay nightclub in Orlando. The full speech is above and very funny. The excerpted text relates to gun violence.

What we saw in Orlando was one of the ugliest cocktails of the problems that we still see here in America. A cocktail of homophobia, xenophobia, lack of access to mental healthcare, and sheer lack of political will. And all of us satirists, we’ve all been yelling out, crying out, for change. But the sad reality is that we are all complicit in what happened. Every day in our workplaces, in our homes, in our religious institutions, there is covert or overt discrimination or phobia towards people of different religious, racial, or sexual walks of life. And we just sit there and we let it happen because it doesn’t affect our bottom line.

“I didn’t say it Hasan. I don’t think it that’s way. They said it, okay. It’s not that simple Hasan.”

And we just go on with our lives because it did not affect our status quo. And the sad reality is that stuff like this is going to continue to happen unless we recognise that civil liberties are an all or nothing game. A rising tide lifts all boats, it’s not pick or choose. So whether you like it or not we all have to step up and fight for each other, otherwise the whole thing is a sham. And until we do that, hijabis are going to get harassed in the streets, members from the trans community are going to be demonised for using the bathroom. And my brothers and sisters in the African American community, their spines are going to continue to get shattered in the backs of paddy wagons until we stand up and say something.

And the thing that hurts me the most is I wished I would have done more. To my brothers and sisters in the LGBTQ community and every marginalised community, I am sorry I did not do more. And the same goes for Congress. We look to you guys as our leaders. You make almost $200,000 a year to write rules, to make our society better. Not tweet, not tell us about your thoughts and prayers. To write rules to make our society better. And ultimately it comes down to money and influence. And right now, since 1998 the NRA has given $3.7 million to Congress. There are 294 sitting members of Congress that have accepted contributions from the NRA, and that doesn’t even include the millions of dollars from outside lobbying.

So before I get up here in my liberal bubble and I ask for gun control and universal background checks and banning assault rifles, we’ve got to be able to have the conversation, and right now, specifically Congress, has blocked legislation for the CDC to study gun-related violence. We can’t even talk about the issue with real statistics and facts. So I don’t know if this is, like, a Kickstarter thing, but if $3.7 million can buy political influence to take lives, if we raise $4 million would you guys take that to save lives? I don’t know.

Ultimately, I just gotta ask you this. Look, when I got into comedy, and when you guys got into media, and when you guys got into politics, we wanted to do the best work we could possibly do. Is this what you want your legacy to be? That you were a could-have-done-something Congress, but you didn’t because of outside lobbying? That you were complicit in the deaths of thousands of Americans?

And look, I know being a member of Congress is hard — you’ve got to placate your base, you’ve got to look out for re-election, you’ve got to answer to lobbyists. But please persevere, because our thoughts and prayers are with you. Good night.

Malarndirra McCarthy: 'Let the people of the Northern Territory have a say', maiden speech - 2016

15 September 2016, Parliament House, Canberra, Australia

Yuwu bajinda nya-wirdi kulu kirna-balirra yinda nyawirdi nyuwu-ja barrawu, bajirru yiurru wiji marnajingulaji ngathangka, bajirru yirru li-wirdiwalangu ji-awarawu li-Ngunawal Ngambri barra jina barra awara yirrunga, bajrru li-ngaha li-malarngu marnaji anka nya-ngathanya bii, li-ngatha kulhakulha, li-ngatha li-nganji karnirru-balirra.

Yes, let us begin. You are there, senior one—Mr President. We have no word for ‘President’ in Yanyuwa, so I refer to you as ‘senior one’. And I thank you for this place, and for all you others also here with me, and you, the traditional owners, the Ngunawal and Ngambri, for this country. This is your country.

To my family and friends who are here today: thank you. Thank you for making the journey. I especially acknowledge my father, John McCarthy, and my son Grayson, who are here with me. And I know my son CJ is watching from his university room in Dallas, Texas; a big hello to you, my son. And to Adam, sitting for his year 11 exam: good luck to you, my son.

I am here today starting off with Yanyuwa, the language of my mother’s families in Borroloola in the Gulf of Carpentaria, nearly 1,000 kilometres south-east of Darwin. My families, they gave me this language, the language of my country. I am a woman whose spirit has come from the salt water, and we are known as li-antha wirriyarra, which means our spiritual origin comes from the sea—from the sea country. And I welcome my Kuku, John Bradley and Nona. Thank you. Bauji barra.

The old people would sing the kujika, the songline. They would follow the path of many kujika, the songlines, like the brolga, the kurdarraku, of my grandmother’s country—the beautiful brolga country; the country where my spirit always returns to. They would sing of the shark dreaming, and how it travelled from Queensland all the way down the coast to the gulf country and out to the islands of my families. And we dance the dance of the mermaids, the ngardiji, the ngardiji kujika of the Gulf and Barkly country, linking so many of our first nations peoples.

I grew up with the old men and women, the marlbu and barrdi bardis, and I am here thinking about them now, and I am thinking about my own path. My road has been a long road like the song, the kujika, that belongs to the old people. And I am standing here in this place, the Australian Senate, in the place of the people, to represent not just my own people—the Yanyuwa, the Garrwa, the Mara and the Kudanji peoples—but to stand for all people of the Northern Territory: all clan groups, all families who call the Northern Territory home, whether they live on the vast cattle stations of the Northern Territory or whether they have travelled from countries like Asia, Africa or the Middle East to forge a new life for their families away from strife-torn lives that offered no future. I stand here for you, too.

In 1842, my McCarthy ancestor sailed the seas from Ireland aboard the ship Palestine to Australia. And he did not come as a convict like hundreds of others before him; instead, he came as a free man. He chose to come, to make this country his home, not just for him but for his young family, to live in Australia, to build his future, his dream, in the land of opportunity, an unknown land yet filled with much hope and prosperity.

It was on the north coast of New South Wales that he made his home as the local magistrate. In the years and decades that followed, his descendants would toil on the land as farmers and timber-getters before my grandad, Alf McCarthy, then moved to Sydney to work in a box factory at Chiswick and then became a tram conductor on the Sydney trams. Along with my grandmother, Mary, they would raise their three sons: my dad, John McCarthy, who is here today; my Uncle Ray, who is also here, with Aunt Angela, and their children and grandchildren; and my Uncle Kevin, along with his wife, Regina, who are sending all their love now as I speak. I am deeply thankful for the love, support and richness in wisdom of my McCarthy families, as I am of my Yanyuwa and Garrawa families. Yo yamalu bingi; it makes my spirit feel really good.

I share with you all my kujika, my songline that weaves its way from the gulf country across the first-nation’s lands of Aboriginal people in Australia. As a journalist, a storyteller for 20 years—for the ABC, for SBS and for the much-needed NITV—I was able to tell the stories of the lives of thousands and thousands of Australians, and even internationally, with the World Indigenous Television Broadcasters Network, trying to improve the lives of Indigenous people the world over through Indigenous media. I commend wholeheartedly the work of Indigenous media in Australia. Our country needs you. I especially want to acknowledge amazing women journalists, like those in the gallery today: the ABC’s Lindy Kerin, NITV’s Natalie Ahmat and the awesome, inspiring Caroline Jones.

I am honoured to be elected to represent all people of the Northern Territory in this chamber—to the Australian Senate—and to do so as a member of the Australian Labor Party.

As my McCarthy ancestor sailed his way across the seas to Australia, my Yanyuw ancestors sailed their way across the northern seas from the gulf country, to the land of the Macassan, Sulawesi, to the Torres Strait through to Papua New Guinea. The Macassans traded with the Yanyuwa, as they did with the Yolngu people of north-east Arnhem Land and the Anindilyakwa people of Groote Eylandt and the Nungubuyu people of Numbulwar. All of us are interconnected through kujika, through songline. For example, the brolga kujika connects the families of Numbulwar and Groote Eylandt with our families in the gulf country. That is the law of the first-nation’s peoples that defines our connection to country and culture and kin.

In the eyes of first-nation’s people, cultural exchange both amongst clan groups within Australia and with people outside Australia was a natural part of life well before Captain Cook arrived in 1788. There was already a thriving economic foreign trade occurring between Australia and with countries to our north. It is Aboriginal people who were the diplomats with foreign countries, the trading partners who shared knowledge and exchanged agriculture and marine sources of food and tools in the form of harpoons for hunting and knowledge of carving canoes to set sail in the unpredictable wet season seas. Only last month, in the landmark native title hearing in Borroloola, this diplomatic mission between the Yanyuwa and the Macassans was formally recognised in the Western system of law. The Federal Court recognised this relationship. Yet Aboriginal people have always had a system of governance here, and in Yanyuw we refer to it through the kujika.

In 1966, when Vincent Lingiari led the Wave Hill Walk-Off, demanding equal pay and equal rights for his country men and women, my families in the gulf country supported his fight for justice and that of the Gurindji people. So too did thousands of other Australians across the country who believed in a fair go for all. In recent weeks the Gurindji commemorated 50 years since the walk-off and recognised the important role Australian unions played in the late sixties supporting those Australians who could not win their battle for equal pay alone.

Still today the union movement stands beside those who push for a better way of life. I acknowledge in particular the support of those in the gallery today, such as Kay Densley, with the CPSU NT, and her team. Special thanks to Joseph Scales of the Australian Services Union, the MUA and, yes, the CFMEU, as well as United Voice, the ETU, the AMWU and the ACTU. The Turnbull government’s decision to go to an early election in the hope of diminishing the role of unions in this country spectacularly backfired when the Australian people moved away from his vision in their thousands. They recognise that trade unions continue to play a vital role in ensuring justice and equity for all Australians, for we all know that pay equity is not fully enjoyed by all Australians, and homelessness has a human face, and sometimes it is much of my family’s.

In the kinship way, it is my brother, who prefers to sleep in the long grass in Darwin city because it all becomes too hard. At other times the human face is one of someone who has just given up trying to exist between dispassionate laws and the high expectations of those whose job it is to carry them out. The town of Katherine in the Northern Territory has the highest rate of homelessness in the Territory, while Alice Springs is in desperate need of a visionary future that inspires our youth and lightens the load on families. It is a vision I so much want to work on with my fellow federal colleagues: the member for Lingiari, Warren Snowdon, and the member for Solomon, Luke Gosling, in paving a future for the Northern Territory filled with much hope and opportunity, and my fellow Indigenous colleagues, Senator Pat Dodson and Linda Burney.

I congratulate Chief Minister Michael Gunner and his NT Labor caucus on their recent victory in the Territory, and I certainly look very much forward to working closely with his team. I thank all the NT Labor branches and party members for your overwhelming support in my election to the Senate. Your faith in me helped to also restore my faith that serving the people of the Territory, and indeed Australia, is an honourable path and one that has ignited my spirit once again after the loss of my seat in Arnhem in the 2012 Territory election.

I sincerely congratulate the new member for Arnhem, Selena Uibo, for restoring this beautiful bush seat back to Labor. I acknowledge most sincerely, too, former senator Nova Peris and, before her, former senator Trish Crossin. Both women have supported me in my road to the Senate here today. For their graciousness, patient advice and respect for the challenges I have had to face to get here, I say a heartfelt thank you. To my staff, Mandy Taylor and Charlie Powling, thank you for joining me on this journey.

When the Commonwealth parliament passed the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act in 1976, it was the Yanyuwa people who stepped up to claim back our land. As a young girl, I watched my grandparents, my elders, as they prepared to give evidence about how the Yanyuwa cared for country, especially the islands north of Borroloola. They gave evidence in an old police station, and they could pretty much only speak in Yanyuwa. They were difficult times, and trying to give evidence was something that we had to continuously learn from. In that time, we found that we could not explain things as well as we would have liked to the Western understanding of Aboriginal culture.

It was to be another four decades of litigation—in Borroloola, in Darwin and in Melbourne. It was litigation that passed on to us, the Yanyuwa descendants, to continue to fight for recognition of who we are, li-antha wirriyarra, a people whose spiritual origin comes from the sea. But we did not walk that journey alone. It was only possible with the steadfast support of the Northern Land Council, and I acknowledge all those staff and council members over those 40 years who walked with my families.

We talk about recognition of Australia’s First Peoples in the Constitution, and I pay tribute to all those in the campaign to support recognition. It is most certainly way overdue, and I say these next sentences without any disrespect to those of you. I urge parliamentarians in both houses to understand this: the Yanyuwa are a people whose struggle for country and recognition took nearly 40 years, and so many elders died well before such recognition and, most importantly, any respect ever took place. Such long, drawn-out legal battles have wearied many families of so many first nation peoples, constantly trying to defend their sense of self, identity and country, who have fought for land rights. Maybe that was the intention; I do not know. Battle fatigued, perhaps we are better to acquiesce. But we are still here, and we are not going to go away.

So I understand fully the impatience and, in some cases, total rejection felt by so many first nation peoples towards the Australian parliament’s push for recognition. It is a difficult pill to swallow, as first peoples, to yet again have to ask others to respect us—our place, our culture and our families—in this country, when we know we have been here well over 60,000 years.

With nearly 30 per cent of the Territory population Indigenous, we will only have half a vote in any referendum, let alone a referendum on recognition, because we are not a state. Is it not time to consider seriously a vision for the north and a vision for the future of all our territories such as Christmas and Cocos Islands? We need a vision that unites over 100 Aboriginal language groups just in the Northern Territory alone, the multicultural communities who have made it home and the descendants of the Afghan cameleers and early pioneers.

It is time the Commonwealth encouraged more seriously the growth of the Northern Territory as perhaps the seventh state in the Australian Federation. Allow the people of the Northern Territory to fully make our own decisions, determine our own future, by engaging in a fair partnership so that we, who have won our lands back—nearly 50 per cent of the landmass—and the young people of the Territory feel they have solid employment, a future filled with shared prosperity and hope.

The Commonwealth must prepare a way for the inclusion of more senators and more members of the House of Representatives so that the people of the Territory can become not just a state but an equal state here in the Australian parliament. It might be 10 or 20 years, but let there be a vision that at least starts.

The Mabo court ruling in 1992 overturned terra nullius. Let the people of the Northern Territory overturn the disbelief that even treaties are unattainable in Australia. Let the people of the Northern Territory have a say. In the year of the Mabo decision, I was questioned over my identity as a Yanyuwa Garrawa woman in the Borroloola land claim process. I found the interrogation focused more on how it could be that an educated Aboriginal woman must somehow not be quite real as a traditional owner of country. How could it be possible to be highly educated in the Western world and still live with a deep sense of cultural understanding in a culture thousands of years old?

It was thanks to the firm belief of my father, a school teacher from Sydney who inspired my educational upbringing, both in the Western ways and in maintaining a strong understanding of Borroloola families, kinship and culture shared by my mother—bless her soul—and shared by my maternal grandparents. I was educated in Borroloola, in Alice Springs and in Sydney, and all the while travelling backwards and forwards to the families in the Gulf Country. It was as a little girl in primary school in Alice Springs that I first saw the man who I would one day sit here in the Senate with—Senator Pat Dodson—when he worked with the Catholic Church in Alice Springs.

I would like to acknowledge the staff and students of St Scholastica’s College, my former high school, who are present in the gallery today. In 1988, I became the first Aboriginal student to become college captain, and I acknowledge my schoolmates who are here, in particular Yvonne Weldon of the Wiradjuri people of New South Wales and her family, Aunty Ann and the Coe families of Cowra. I pay my respects to the memory of the late great Mum Shirl, who was witness to ensuring that both Yvonne and I would finish well with the Good Sams. Today, another Indigenous student sits in the gallery who will be the 2017 college captain: Alice Dennison. I sincerely wish you all the best. I also acknowledge the students and staff of Saint Ignatius’ College, in particular the first nation’s students who danced Senator Dodson and I into the Senate on our first day with our fellow senators.

I now ask Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull: please reconsider your plebiscite bill. Please pull back from this brink of public vitriol and make marriage equality a reality in this parliament. We need only be reminded of the hateful and hurtful commentary on race that ended the career of an AFL hero in Swans legend Adam Goodes—do not let that happen here to any of these families in Australia.

My kujika has allowed me to see both worlds—that of the Western world view and that of the Yanyuwa/Garrawa world view. I am at home in both. I am neither one, without the other. But what of those who cannot balance the two and what of those who do not have the same?

I think of the women in my life struggling still just to survive—I call them my mothers, sisters, my friends—who endured tremendous acts of violence against them, with broken limbs, busted faces, amputations and sexual assaults. I stand here with you. My aunt who lost her job that she had had for 10 years without warning simply because she spoke out about the lack of housing for her families, I stand here with you. To the descendants of the stolen generation still seeking closure, I stand with you. To the people with disabilities forever striving for better access to the most basic things in life, I am with you.

And then there is my young cousin-sister who struggled with her identity as a lesbian in a strong traditional Aboriginal culture. Her outward spirit was full of fun and laughter, yet inside she was suffocating from the inability to find balance in her cultural world view and that of the expectations of the broader Australian society around her. So one night she left this world, just gave up, at the age of 23.

To the sista girls and brutha boys who struggle with their sexual identity, I say to you: stay strong, I stand here with you. To the people of the Northern Territory and the Christmas and Cocos (Keeling) Islands, I stand here with you.

Bauji Barra. Thank you.

Daniel Andrews: 'For the laws we passed. And the lives we ruined' State Apology to Gay Men Convicted Under Unjust Laws - 2016

24 May 2016, Parliament House, Melbourne, Australia

Speaker – it’s never too late to put things right.

It’s never too late to say sorry – and mean it.

That’s what brings us all to the heart of our democracy here, in this Parliament where, over the course of decades, a powerful prejudice was written into law.

A prejudice that ruined lives.

A prejudice that prevails in different ways, even still.

That law was written in our name – as representatives, and as Victorians.

And that law was enforced by the very democratic system to which we call ourselves faithful.

So it is our responsibility to prove that the Parliament that engineered this prejudice can also be the Parliament that ends it.

That starts with acknowledging the offences of the past admitting the failings of the present and building a society, for the future, that is strong and fair and just.

In doing so, Speaker, we’ll have shown this moment to be no mere gesture.

In doing so, we’ll have proven that the dignity and bravery of generations of Victorians wasn’t simply for nought.

And that, I hope, will be the greatest comfort of all.

Speaker, there is no more simple an acknowledgement than this:

There was a time in our history when we turned thousands of ordinary young men into criminals.

And it was profoundly and unimaginably wrong.

That such a thing could have occurred – once, perhaps a century ago – would not surprise most Victorians.

Well, I hold here an article that reports the random arrest of 15 men.

“Police Blitz Catches Homosexuals”, the headline reads.

And said a police officer: “…we just seem to find homosexuals loitering wherever we go.”

This was published in Melbourne’s biggest-selling weekly newspaper – in December 1976.

A decade earlier, in 1967, a local paper said that a dozen men would soon face court for – quote – “morals offences”, and urged the public to report homosexuals to the police with a minimum of delay.

A generation earlier, in 1937, Judge MacIndoe said John, a man in his 20s, was “not quite sane”, and gaoled him for three months on a charge of gross indecency.

In 1936, Jack, a working man from Sale, faced a Melbourne court on the same charge – and he was gaoled for ten years.

This, Speaker, is the society we built.

And it would be easy to blame the courts, or the media, or the police, or the public.

It is easy for us to condemn their bigotry.

But the law required them to be bigoted.

And those laws were struck here, where I stand.

One of those laws even earned the label abominable.

And in 1961 alone, 40 Victorian men were charged with it.

In the same year, a minor offence was created that shook just as many lives.

The penalty was $600 in today’s terms, or one month’s imprisonment.

The charge? ‘Loitering for homosexual purposes.’

This was the offence used to justify that random police blitz in ‘76.

A witness said: “Young policemen were sent…to…entrap suspected homosexuals.”

“[Officers] dressed in swimwear…engaging other men in conversation.”

“When the policeman was satisfied the person was homosexual, an arrest was made.”

When we began this process, Speaker, I expected to be offering an apology to people persecuted for homosexual acts.

But it has become clear to me that the State also persecuted against homosexual thought.

Loitering for homosexual purposes is a thought crime.

And in one summer in 1976, in one location alone, one hundred men were targeted under this violation of thought; something for which there was no possible defence.

All in our lifetimes, Speaker.

In our name.

Young people. Old people. Thousands and thousands of people.

I suppose it’s rare when you can’t even begin to conceive what was on the minds of our forebears in this Place.

But I look back at those statutes and I am dumbfounded.

I can’t possibly explain why we made these laws, and clung to them, and fought for them.

For decades, we were obsessed with the private mysteries of men.

And so we jailed them.

We harmed them.

And, in turn, they harmed themselves.

Speaker, it is the first responsibility of a Government to keep people safe.

But the Government didn’t keep LGBTI people safe.

The Government invalidated their humanity and cast them into a nightmare.

And those who live today are the survivors of nothing less than a campaign of destruction, led by the might of the State.

I had the privilege of meeting with four of those survivors.

One of them was Noel Tovey.

He was sent to Pentridge in 1951.

On more than one occasion in jail, he planned his suicide.

“Max was singing an aria from La Traviata when the police arrived,” he recalled in his book.

I was very naive. I knew having sex with men was against the law but I didn’t understand why it was a crime.

At the hearing, the judge said, “You have been charged with the abominable crime of buggery. How do you plead?”

The maximum sentence was fifteen years.

Afterwards, only two people would talk to me. I couldn’t…get a job. I was a known criminal.

And it’s ironic.

Eventually I would have been forgiven by everyone if I had murdered Max, but no one could forgive me for having sex with him.”

And Noel, in his own words, considers himself “one of the lucky ones.”

I also met Terry Kennedy.

He was 18 when he was arrested.

“When I wanted to go overseas”, Terry told me, “and when I wanted to start my own business, there was always that dreaded question:

“Have you ever been convicted of a criminal offence?”

I lied, of course.

Then the phone rang…It was an inspector from the St Kilda Police Station. He’d found me out.

With a curse like that always lurking over our heads, we always had to ask ourselves [this question] – just how far can I go today?”

That’s the sort of question which, in some form or another, must have been asked by almost every single LGBTI person.

It is still asked today – by teenagers in the schoolyard; by adults in the family home.

Yes, the law was unjust, but it is wrong to think its only victims were those who faced its sanction.

The fact is: these laws cast a dark and paralysing pall over everyone who ever felt like they were different.

The fact is: these laws represented nothing less than official, state-sanctioned homophobia.

And we wonder why, Speaker – we wonder why gay and lesbian and bi and trans teenagers are still the target of a red, hot hatred.

We wonder why hundreds of thousands of Australians are still formally excluded from something as basic and decent as a formal celebration of love.

And we wonder why so many people are still forced to drape their lives in shame.

Shame: that deeply personal condition, described by Peter McEwan as “the feeling of not being good enough.”

Peter was arrested in 1967.

He soon fled overseas to escape his life.

The fourth man I spoke with last week, Tom Anderson, met his own private terror when he was 14.

For weeks, he was routinely sexually assaulted by his boss – a man in his 40s.

His parents, in all good faith, took Tom down to the Police Station to make a formal statement and get his employer charged.

And he was.

But so was Tom.

This child victim of sexual assault was charged with one count of buggery and two counts of gross indecency.

Can you believe, Speaker, that the year was 1977?

Today, Tom carries with him a quiet bravery that is hard to put into words.

And he told me about the time – one day, just a few years ago – when his home was burgled.

“I’m a grown man”, he said, “but the moment the police came around to inspect the house, and I opened the door…I became that 14-year-old boy again.”

“I couldn’t talk. I was frozen. I was a grown man and I couldn’t talk.”

This was life for innocent people like Tom.

We told them they were fugitives living outside the law.

We gave them no safe place to find themselves – or find each other.

And we made sure they couldn’t trust a soul.

Not even their family.

A life like that. What do you think that does to a human being?

What do you think it does to their ability to find purpose, to hold themselves with confidence to be happy, to be social, to be free?

Don’t tell me that these laws were simply a suppression of sex.

This was a suppression of spirit.

A denial of love.

And it lives on, today.

While the laws were terminated in the 1980s, they still remain next to the names of so many men – most of them dead – a criminal conviction engraved upon their place in history.

I can inform the House that six men have now successfully applied to expunge these convictions from their record.

Many more have commenced the process.

This won’t erase the injustice, but it is an accurate statement of what I believe today:

That these convictions should never have happened.

That the charges will be deleted, as if they never existed.

And that their subjects can call themselves, once again, law-abiding men.

Expungement is one thing, but these victims won’t find their salvation in this alone.

They are each owed hope.

And all four of the men I met told me they only began to find that hope when they met people who were just like them.

Peter McEwan – back in the country, and emerging from years of shame – started meeting weekly with some gay friends at university in 1972.

“We realised we were all outlaws together,” he said, “and we learnt to say that we are good”.

“We learnt to say ‘black is beautiful, women are strong – and gay is good.’”

“Once I learnt I was good, it led me to question everyone who said I was evil and sick.”

“Gay men had taken on board the shame. Through each other we found our pride.”

Then he paused for a second and he said:

“Pride is the opposite of shame.”

He’s right.

Pride is not a cold acceptance; it’s a celebration.

It’s about wearing your colours and baring your character.

The mere expression of pride was an act of sheer defiance.

These people we speak about – they weren’t just fighting for the right to be equal.

They were fighting for the right to be different.

And I want everyone in this state, young or old, to know that you, too, have that right.

You were born with that right.

And being who you are is good enough for me – good enough for all of us.

Here in Victoria, equality is not negotiable.

Here, you can be different from everybody else, but still be treated the same as everybody else.

Because we believe in fairness.

We believe in honesty, too – so we have to acknowledge this:

For the time being, we can’t promise things will be easy.

Tomorrow, a young bloke will get hurt.

Tomorrow, a parent will turn their back on their child.

Tomorrow, a loving couple and their beautiful baby will be met with a stare of contempt.

Tomorrow, a trans woman will be turned away from a job interview.

And tomorrow, a gay teenager will think about ending his own life.

That’s the truth.

There is so much more we need to do to make things right.

Until then, we can’t promise things will be easy.

We can’t guarantee that everyone in your life will respect the way you want to live it.

And we can’t expect you to make what must be a terrifying plunge until you know the time is right.

But just know that whenever that time comes, you have a Government that’s on your side.

You have a Government that is trying to make the state a safer place – in the classroom, in the workplace.

You have a Government that is trying to eradicate a culture of bullying and harassment so that the next generation of children are never old enough to experience it.

You have a Government that sees these indisputable statistics – of LGBTI self-harm, of suicide – and commits to their complete upheaval.

You have a Government that believes you’re free to be who you are, and to marry the person you love.

And you have a Government that knows just one life saved is worth all the effort.

Speaker, as part of this process, I learnt that two women were convicted for offensive behaviour in the 1970s for holding hands – on a tram.

So let me finish by saying this:

If you are a member of the LGBTI community, and there’s someone in your life that you love – a partner or a friend – then do me a favour:

Next time you’re on a tram in Melbourne, hold their hand.

Do it with pride and defiance.

Because you have that freedom.

And here in the progressive capital, I can think of nothing more Victorian than that.

Speaker, it’s been a life of struggle for generations of Victorians.

As representatives, we take full responsibility.

We criminalised homosexual thoughts and deeds. We validated homophobic words and acts.

And we set the tone for a society that ruthlessly punished the different – with a short sentence in prison, and a life sentence of shame.

From now on, that shame is ours.

This Parliament and this Government are to be formally held to account for designing a culture of darkness and shame.

And those who faced its sanction, and lived in fear, are to be formally recognised for their relentless pursuit of freedom and love.

It all started here. It will end here, too.

To our knowledge, no jurisdiction in the world has ever offered a full and formal apology for laws like these.

So please, let these words rest forever in our records:

On behalf of the Parliament, the Government and the people of Victoria.

For the laws we passed.

And the lives we ruined.

And the standards we set.

We are so sorry. Humbly, deeply, sorry.