Maxine McKew (Bennelong, Australian Labor Party, Parliamentary Secretary for Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development and Local Government) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

One of the more extraordinary days that I have seen in the federal parliament was Monday this week when both the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition joined in offering an apology to half a million Australians who experienced a loveless and often abusive existence while in institutional care. I think you had to be there to see the faces in the Great Hall, because the stories and the pain of a brutish life were in those faces—some, I think, old beyond their years, others who have battled their demons, with limited success, and yet others who have triumphed over early adversity but still obviously carry the scars.

I think the most frightening thing in the world is to be an abandoned child, to be young and powerless, to lose a parent through death or disappearance and to not have other family or neighbours prepared to step in. I think we are left to wonder about the nature of such a massive failure—a failure of stewardship and certainly a failure of governmental oversight. We have to ask: how is it that there was such a high level of tolerance—and in the 20th century, for heaven’s sake—for using children as cheap labourers, for failing to ensure that they had an adequate education? And, in particular, how is it that, when it came to men and women with a religious vocation, there were some who failed to offer mercy and compassion? I think it is important to understand what happened here. So this week I talked to some women whom I know well. They are the Sisters of Mercy and I know they try to live their lives every day for others. Having been educated by the Sisters of Mercy and, on many occasions, having acknowledged their exceptional contribution to providing quality education and health services in this country, I also think it is important to look at the other side of the ledger. We cannot ignore those now remembered Australians who say that, while they were in the care of the Mercy sisters, their own experience was merciless. So what happened?

From my conversations this week with leaders of congregations I believe there is now a profound acknowledgement that some very bad things happened, but I was asked to consider this: many religious organisations were dealing with very large numbers of children and often had little or no training. Many were entirely unsuited to be the guardians of children. Often the hierarchy of orders dictated that the least educated were deemed good enough for this kind of work. But the important thing now is that there is a process underway, and has been for some years, whereby the sisters and many others provide practical help to people who have suffered. It is a program called Towards Healing, and former home children are listened to, their claims are investigated and, in many cases, meetings are facilitated between complainants and the former heads of institutions. Sometimes counselling is sought; in other cases, practical help is sought. I was told that some individuals just want to be able to learn to read and write. That simple request—a plea to be a literate adult—tells us so much about a period of very deep neglect that we must never allow to happen again. I recall the lines of Arthur Miller, the great playwright, on behalf of Willy Loman, who always said, ‘Attention must be paid.’ Attention was paid this week and rightly so. (Time expired)