Catryna Bilyk (Tasmania, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Hansard source

There have been many great contributions made today and I know there will be many more in memory of our colleague Linda White. Every contribution today will probably be a bit more eloquent than mine. I have thought about what I will say today, nearly since Ben rang me when I got off the plane. There was a message from Ben on the Thursday that Linda died. I rang him straight back. I just haven't been able to really get my thoughts together, so I hope I do okay.

My brother read a poem at my mother's funeral and it really resonated with me. I am not going to read the poem but I will quickly tell you about it because the poem was about a man who had been to a funeral. They had referred to the dates on the tombstone, the day of the birth of the person and the day of the death of the person. They said that the most important thing was the dash between those two dates. That dash, of course, is a person's life. What matters most when someone dies, of course, is their life, the time they spend alive on earth. Those who love them and care about them really understand what that little dash means. They talk about how it doesn't matter how much we own—the cars, the house, the cash. What matters is how we lived our life and, as they say, how we spent our dash. It reminds us all to think about that dash in our own lives and to treat each other with respect and to more often wear a smile because sometimes that dash might only last a little while. As I said, I found it hard to write my contribution, but I can say with absolute clarity and absolute conviction that Linda should be so, so proud of her dash. It was way too short; she was 63 years old. It's a young age to die these days.

She affected the lives of so many people. She touched and improved the lives of so many people, but so many of those people will not even know her name and will certainly not have met her. She didn't boast about what she did at all—she didn't seek out the media—but she had considerable achievements. What Linda preferred to do was to focus on working hard towards meaningful change and a fairer, more equitable Australia. I think about Linda a bit. Her life was like a stone in a pond. The ripples of her actions will just continue on, and her legacy will continue to improve the lives of all Australians for many generations to come.

I first met Linda in the 1990s. She then worked for the Federated Clerks Union. I worked for the Municipal Employees Union, and our two unions joined together with a third union, the Municipal Officers Association, to become what is now known as the Australian Services Union. Linda was in the national office, and I was a fairly new official, basically straight out of early childhood education, in the Tasmanian office. She was from the left, and I was from the right. She was a lawyer, and, as I said, I was straight out of early childhood education. She was very private—I'll talk about that later—and I wear my heart on my sleeve. So you would think we were complete opposites, but I very quickly came to admire her fierce intellect—and it was fierce—and her skill in managing people. But the thing I really liked about Linda was her absolute integrity.

Lots of people have talked today about the collapse of Ansett and the fallout from that. I had the privilege of seeing firsthand how Linda stood up to management and fully supported her members no matter what. I was in complete awe of her abilities in those days. She ran the dispute for the ASU. She was the head honcho. I was the branch training officer then, so I was training the delegates, and there were specific things that Linda would want the Ansett delegates in particular to know. That's when I really got to know her.

Linda did take no hostages, especially when it came to negotiations. I will say she was stubborn but in a really good way. She was tenacious. Above all, she was passionate for justice and a more just society for all Australians. On her work ethic, I don't think I've ever, ever met anybody who worked as hard as she did, and that obviously explains how she was such an admired member of so many boards. By my count, she sat on no less than 15 boards. It's an absolute testament to her willingness and her ability to hold not only the public sector to account but the corporate sector as well.

It is rare, I think, to find someone who is intellectually curious, open to ideas and assertive without being aggressive. This winning combination is why so many people, I think, are mourning her loss. She calmly refused to be fobbed off by anything less than a fully considered argument and she didn't hesitate to put someone in their place if they tried to pull the wool over her eyes. Because of that, she was highly regarded by her colleagues.

I saw this again in particular when she joined the Senate. In fact, I have to tell the powers that be on our side this little story. When she joined the Senate, they put her next to me, and the first thing we did was go, 'Have they got any idea what they have done here?' The two of us knew we were going to lead each other astray a bit. We talked quite often—I hate to admit this—through question time. Sometimes it can be a bit dull when you're a backbencher. We would talk about all sorts of things, and I did really get to know her much, much better than I had in the years that she was in the union.

Funnily enough, we talked about death. My brother died, and we had a talk about death. She talked to me—hindsight is such a wonderful thing—about the work I had done in regard to low-survival-rate cancers. I didn't twig to anything; I have to admit I did not relate it. Even when she was sick and unwell and was no longer coming to parliament, I didn't relate that fact, that conversation, to Linda's illness. In the beginning, I thought she had COVID, and I remember asking her, 'Have you got COVID?' She said to me, 'I'm not declaring anything.' Typical of Linda! She loved her privacy. But I would send her texts occasionally. Sometimes she would respond and sometimes she wouldn't be well enough to respond or just wanted to ignore me. Sometimes she would respond with just a heart. I will keep those texts. I will keep them very close to me.

Other people have mentioned the joint National Anti-Corruption Commission committee and the scrutiny of delegated legislation committee, and I was lucky to be on both of those committees while she was the chair. Scrutiny just came naturally to her. She was forensic in reading the papers. She understood. I would sit here and say, 'I've got no idea what we're talking about; can you explain it to me?' I would have the papers and I would say: 'I don't understand this. What's this about?' She'd just very calmly talk me through it so that, when I got to the meeting, I actually knew what was going on. There was no loosely phrased or vague form of words that passed her eye. She had an eagle eye. Her forensic reading of what were sometimes rather dull but, as other people have mentioned, really important papers for this place was quite daunting. I know lots of people were in awe of her abilities.

I did see her, certainly through the union movement but again in this place, empower other people and bring other people along with her to pursue a point. She persuaded people to take up responsibilities that they might not otherwise have thought to do. I was on the committee that set up the National Anti-Corruption Commission committee, and I said to her, 'I'm willing to step down and not be on the actual National Anti-Corruption Commission committee,' and she just said to me, 'You will be on it.' 'Okay, I'll stay on it. I'll be there.' That's what she was like.

I don't want to create a picture of a tough and hardened person, because she wasn't. She was strong and, as I said, intensely private. A friend remarked to me, actually, at Linda's memorial service that they thought she was a naturally shy person in an extrovert's profession, and I tend to agree with that. She was very private. As we've said, she was so private that a lot of people didn't realise how ill she was. But there was a vulnerability to her, and I don't think we should ever forget that. There was this vulnerability to her, but she kept it very well hidden.

I think very fondly of Linda. Every time I think about her, it's with a little smile. She could be a lot of fun. She could be wickedly distracting, as I said, as we sat together here and plotted and planned a bit. We shared observations and we shared lollies and we helped each other through the long hours of scintillating or dull debate.

I will tell you that very early on in her Senate career she made a huge mistake—a huge mistake! I don't think I've told anybody else this, but it was huge. I'm going to tell you now. She came into this Senate one day with lollies and didn't have any for me. She never made that mistake again, and I think that says a lot for our relationship. I didn't even have to raise my voice. It was all very: 'You've done what? And none for me?' But that's how we were. I loved sitting next to her and I really do miss her. I've had some really good chamber buddies in the many years I've been here, and I've loved them all in their own ways, but I think, because of that relationship Linda and I had that went back so far, it's been very different.

Other people have mentioned that she did love being a senator. She didn't love being a senator for any benefits that she might receive but for the ability to help other people.

I must admit that around Christmas time I got a Christmas card from her and there was a message in it. I think it was about then that I twigged that she was very, very unwell. I'm keeping that Christmas card, and I've spoken to Ben about this. I will forever treasure that Christmas card, because she wrote in that card to me, 'I couldn't have asked for a nicer person to sit next to in the Senate chamber.' I truly wish she were still here next to me.

Last week we had a beautiful, beautiful memorial service for her, and she would have loved it. She so would have loved it. To her staff that helped put that together: Ben, she would have just loved it, mate; you did her so proud. You really did. I was reminded at that memorial service of all the finer things in life that Linda appreciated. I remember the first time I went into her office here—maybe not the first time, but one time I walked into her office here. We get given those lovely toasters and kettles—not for Linda. Linda had a beautiful De'Longhi kettle and toaster, and I'm thinking, 'That's a class act, isn't it, to just go out and buy really nice ones like that.'

Other people have mentioned how she loved arts and culture and sports. I don't think one person left her memorial service without learning quite a lot more about Linda, so wide was her breadth of interests and so deep were her contributions to society.

I offer my condolences to her family, especially to her brother, Michael, and to her amazing supporting staff: Ben, Ned, Amit, Ead and Ekta. As I said, you guys did her so proud at that service. We would quite often talk about staff while we were sitting here through question time, and I know how much she loved you guys. I want you to really understand that she probably wasn't a typical boss. To have that sort of relationship with your staff is pretty special. I've been around a lot longer than you. I've had some good relationships with some of my bosses, but never as close as yours, especially the one I saw between Linda and Ben. I also offer my condolences to the rest of my ASU family and to my colleagues in this place and the other place as well.

Vale, Linda White; rest in peace. Your dash was marked by intelligent, compassionate and uncompromising action on behalf of others.