Steph Hodgins-May (Victoria, Australian Greens) Share this | Hansard source

If I focus hard I can hear my dad whispering in my ear, 'Go for it, darling!' and that's exactly what I intend to do.

As a kid from Blampied, I didn't expect to be standing in parliament. Frankly, I never expected to get the grades for law school, either, so when I passed and was offered a role as a corporate lawyer in a big, inner-city law firm, I surprised myself and my family. But life had other ideas for me, as it so often does. Ahead of starting my role as a lawyer in 2009, I travelled to Samoa to volunteer with Women in Business, a remarkable organisation that provides microfinance loans to women. While travelling around the islands of Savai'i and Upolu, I spent time learning from these women who were building self-sufficient businesses to support their families through innovative agricultural enterprise. What stood out to me was that these businesses didn't exist to make profit for profit's sake. Their shareholders were community members and their purpose was to sustain and nurture local families.

In my final days in Samoa I recall watching the sun glittering over the mighty Pacific Ocean from the shorelines of Lalomanu—the same beach where mum would spend her final days some seven months later. In September 2009, as my mum and her dear friend Claire—who is up in the gallery today—were waking to enjoy their final day in Samoa, the earth shook, the ocean receded and a tsunami tore through the coastline of Lalomanu, taking with it generations of families, livelihoods and my mum.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, my career as a corporate lawyer didn't last long after mum died. Carving up my life into seven-minute billable blocks to help the rich become richer became increasingly hard to stomach. I felt a deep pull back to Samoa and the women I met there. I booked a plane ticket and loaded up with seeds and farming equipment to deliver to Women in Business, who were some of the first responders on the scene after the tsunami. My grief has largely clouded my memories of this trip, but one memory that has stayed with me is of standing on the debris as aftershocks continued to shake the earth under my feet. In a local practice called Talanoa, where people talk and listen to each other openly, without judgement, local elders shared their stories.

They spoke of the destruction caused by the tsunami, a freak, once-in-a-lifetime disaster, they'd hoped. But as I listened, the elders described the other compounding threats that extreme weather and a changing climate were having on their ability to survive, to feed their families and to preserve their connection to country and culture. Their words reinforced to me that climate change is more than a matter of science. It's a matter of justice, with deep and interconnected structural socioeconomic and intergenerational inequities at its core. It's the voices of these elders that I endeavour to bring to this parliament—their courage, their resilience and their exemplary climate leadership.

As a nation, we have a monumental challenge in front of us. The social and ecological crises that beset us demand sweeping, systemic change, bold vision, political courage and a commitment to put people before profit. Our climate is unravelling before our eyes, yet governments across the world, including here in Australia, are tightening anti-protest laws instead of cracking down on climate polluters. Successive Australian governments have made us the world's third-largest exporter of fossil fuels. They've let their corporate donors dictate policy decisions and strong-arm their ways into the halls of power, many of them not even paying their fair share of taxes like the rest of us do. Young people in this country dare to dream about a life of opportunity but are bent down under the weight of soaring rents, student debt and climate disasters. I enter this parliament knowing that we can and we must do better.

Since standing on the beach of Lalomanu, my fight for climate justice has taken me across the globe. At the United Nations in New York, I negotiated stronger climate resolutions and reef protections only to watch Australia water them down when it was politically convenient. I worked as an environmental lawyer, and I experienced the devastating consequences of our utterly broken environmental laws on nature and communities. I sailed through the Pacific Islands with Greenpeace and drew inspiration from climate justice activists from across the world, all fighting for a more safe and just future, but up against powerful fossil fuel interests, including Australia. Time and time again, the message from Pacifica political leaders, youth activists and elders was consistent: the government was failing to act and time is running out. The message was to force them to do better or to replace them. That's exactly what the Greens and what I intend to do.

Another issue close to my heart is this country's abhorrent approach to refugees and asylum seekers seeking our protection. Today, with a record 120 million people forcibly displaced by war, conflict and persecution, there is a dire need for more humility and compassion in our treatment of refugees and asylum seekers. In 1992, a woman Nevena Simic escaped the conflict in Bosnia with her boys, fearing she could no longer keep her family safe from the gunfire, gunfire that would kill her husband some months later. Nevena arrived in Australia with little more than a suitcase, a few words of English and her three sons. She fought for a better future in Australia, where her sons could have an opportunity to grow up and give back to their new country. This incredible woman is my mother-in-law. It is because of her immense bravery that today I have a wonderful partner and two beautiful children sitting up there.

We must recognise the stories of resilience, like Nevena's. These must be the stories that shape our humanitarian response to refugees, not the cruel campaign slogans designed only to scare people and win votes. This is why we need more greens in parliament, and this is why our campaign teams are organising within their communities right across Australia. The history of social change in our nation and across our planet tells us that, when people unite with passion and purpose, we can change the world. Our Greens members and volunteers are the foundations of change, part of a global movement that started here in this country in pursuit of ecological sustainability and grassroots democracy. I'm a member of the Greens because our movement represents hope, optimism, and the power of people working together for the greater good.

Our strength as a party is surging as people cry out for leadership and authentic representation. As the great novelist Alice Walker said:

The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any.

The Greens are here to remind you that you do have power, and a huge amount of it. You have the power to work together, to change elections and to change the world. It is with great privilege that I get to carry on the legacy of former senator Janet Rice; hers are some almighty hiking boots to fill. The voices of former Greens leaders such as Bob Brown, Christine Milne, Richard Di Natale and Greg Barber inspire me. I thank them and commit to living up to their expectations.

I am excited and honoured to join our formidable Greens team here in parliament, led by our leader, Adam Bandt. In both chambers, we are the voices of our communities and of our Greens movement. Ours is the collective voice so desperately needed at a time of polarisation, as the major parties fail to rise to the challenges of our times. Innocent children in Gaza are dying from gunfire, bombs and starvation as the Israeli government continues its bloody assault. Women in Australia escaping domestic violence are sleeping in cars because of a shameful lack of crisis accommodation and housing. First Nations people are being incarcerated in record numbers because of racist and punitive policies, and persistent failures to listen to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. Parents face huge bills for early childhood education, if they can afford it at all. Young people, queer people and disabled people are experiencing deep structural discrimination. All of this is avoidable. We have a chance to reset the narrative, to put care, people and nature at the heart of how our parliament operates. After all, politics is about choices.

In this place we have a choice to prioritise the voices of our community over the megaphones of the fossil fuel lobbyists. We have a choice to make early childhood education free so all children have the best start in life. We have a choice to lead with compassion and nurture a shared humanity for those forced to flee their homelands. We have a choice to protect the land, water and climate that keeps us all alive, and I urge this parliament to remember the power it holds in making these choices a reality. While Australians struggle to afford rent, groceries, dental care and child care, successive governments continue to back big corporations. We need bold solutions to these systemic problems, which is why the Greens are proudly taking up the fight for a rent freeze, for free child care, to drive down grocery prices, to get dental and mental health care into Medicare and to end fossil fuel corporation handouts once and for all.

On the day of my confirmation as a senator, my partner, Ogy, presented me with a framed hessian spud sack from our farm. Some people might not know what spuds are—it's a potato sack. Ogy said to me, 'Steph, you'll always have a bit of the farm with you in Canberra,' and he's right. This is part of who I am. I know the challenges that farmers face. They are the backbone of our regions. I promise to carry their voices into the parliament, as I work to support our regional and rural communities that grow our food and fibre. I promise to carry the voices of Victorians who want an affordable home and a secure future, the voices of our inner-city communities, our suburbs, our regional centres and our rural towns.

As the Greens senator for Victoria, I will be a proud and loud voice for our state. Whether you live in the city or the country, Victoria is a truly special place to call home. Our rich food bowls are the envy of the world. Our arts and cultural scene is electric. We love sport and we love our trams. We have many, many bakeries across Victoria with the best vanilla slice. We're a progressive state. We're welcoming, multicultural and inclusive. We want strong, public institutions, not endless privatisation. Victorians want clean, renewable energy to finally get us off dirty brown coal and gas. We want to protect our precious forests, beaches and cultural heritage. I am so lucky to work for our Victorian communities. It's an honour to be your representative.

As many of you I'm sure can relate to, there is never a perfect time to enter politics. As the mother of two young children, Otis and Vivien, who are here today, it's not a decision I took lightly. But today I stand before you as a Greens senator because I believe that this is the most meaningful way that I can protect my children at this moment in time. I hope to be able to look Otis and Vivien in the eyes and tell them with conviction that I did everything I could to protect them and their future—because, if protecting future generations is not our core purpose in this place, then what is it?

Finally, I have some people to thank. To the many, many Greens volunteers, campaigners and supporters across Victoria who continue to roll up their sleeves, election after election: thank you so very much. Some of you are here today, and some are watching on from St Kilda: [list of names] and so many more of you up there. Thanks to my extraordinary staff, my extended parliamentary team and the Senate staff who have instilled in me confidence in these whirlwind first few weeks as a senator. Thanks to my dear friends who have held me over the years and will inevitably keep me grounded on this wild journey.

Thanks, of course, to my extended family. Judgement-free parental love is something I thought I would have to forgo after losing mum and dad, but how wrong I was. To Lorna Wyatt, my campaign mum and doer of all the things: thank you for your passion, your clarity, your hard work and your care. Thanks to John and Clare who have loved and supported us as their own. Thanks to Ann E for keeping dad alive through stories and being our kids favourite. And to my relatives who are here today, including Auntie Lyn, who dad regularly likened my resoluteness to: thank you. To Igor, Serge, Stephie, Luna, Stella and Ryan: how incredibly fortunate I am to call you family. Thanks to the strongest woman that I have ever encountered—and I've encountered many—my mother-in-law, Nevena. To my sister Carla: who would have thought that us bugalugs from Blampied would be here today? And, of course to my partner in life, Ogy, daggy dad to our beautiful kids: your love, belief and epic parenting have allowed me to be here today, and I love you so much. My children, Otis and Vivien: I love you with all my heart. Dream big and go for it, darlings.

As I penned the final words of my speech back on the land on which I was born and raised, I watched as superb fairy wrens danced on the oaks outside of my window, just as they danced on my mum's coffin some 15 years ago. I was reminded of the vast beauty and mystery of the world, and how important it is to protect it. The future is in our hands. Thank you.