Hansard

Address-in-Reply

Address-in-Reply

Motion

Resumed from 1 May on the following motion moved by Hon Dan Caddy (Parliamentary Secretary):

That the following address be presented to His Excellency:

To His Excellency, the Honourable Christopher John Dawson, Companion of the Order of Australia, Australian Police Medal, Governor in and over the State of Western Australia and its dependencies in the Commonwealth of Australia.

May it please Your Excellency —

We, the members of the Legislative Council of the Parliament of Western Australia in Parliament assembled, beg to express our loyalty to our most gracious sovereign and thank Your Excellency for the speech you have been pleased to deliver to Parliament.

The President: Members, before I give the call to Hon Donna Faragher, I remind you that this is the honourable member's valedictory speech, and the usual conventions and courtesies of the house apply.

Hon Donna Faragher (East Metropolitan Region) (1:17 pm): President, in rising today and acknowledging this will be my last parliamentary speech, I am acutely conscious that there are very few in our community who have had the enormous privilege of standing in this place as a member. It is not lost on me that when I entered state Parliament back in 2005, I became the 323rd member of this house. I would have been a little higher if my surname did not start with the letter T, which bumped me down the alphabetical list. I was the 55th woman to be elected to state Parliament and the 26th woman to take a place in the Legislative Council. With this in mind, I must admit it has been a little difficult to know how to frame this speech, indeed where to start and where to end. But perhaps, President, recalling a very early interaction in this place is where I should begin.

I was a member-elect and had been invited to lunch by the then member for the East Metropolitan Region, Hon Derrick Tomlinson. After lunch, the bells rang and Derrick invited me to sit in the President's gallery to watch the start of proceedings. I sat quietly as members took their seats and came to get a glass of water, as we still do today, and a now former Labor colleague, who will remain nameless, came up and said, "You're Donna Taylor, aren't you?" Very politely I said, "Yes", and his response, without a hint of a smile, was, "We've been waiting to see you." I must admit I was not quite sure whether I should take that statement as a positive or a negative, but the latter seemed the more likely option. I tell this story because it perhaps signified in many ways that while I was well known within the Liberal Party, holding various positions including President of the WA Union of Liberal Students and President of Perth's Women's Division, I was an unknown quantity in the context of becoming a member of Parliament. To be frank, I did not quite fit the stereotype, albeit a wrong stereotype, of a Liberal parliamentarian. I was 29 and engaged to be married. For the first six months of my term, I was Hon Donna Taylor, which I learnt very quickly was a somewhat easier last name for people to pronounce than Faragher. In that regard, I have got pretty used to getting mispronunciations: Fa-ra-her, Far-rar-shar and, my old favourite, Farquhar. I am going to love how Hansard writes those names up!

So it was that on 22 May 2005 I gained my first first, becoming the youngest Liberal woman to enter this state Parliament. I now also take the mantle of being our party's longest-serving female member. There is no doubt that there may well have been a small amount of intrigue as to how well this "fresh face for the Liberals", as I was referred to by The West Australian, would go. It is because of this that I will always be enormously grateful to those first Liberal Party preselectors, including my good friends Heather Gilmour, Kate Taylor and Sherryl Paternoster who are in the gallery today, who put their faith and trust in me all those years ago. I also thank David Atkinson, also in the gallery, for being my referee for every one of my preselections. He has known me since I was four so it is fair to say that he knows everything about me. As I did in my first speech, I again say to all of them: thank you.

Entering Parliament was initially somewhat of a whirlwind. Having worked for then federal minister Hon Chris Ellison, who is in the gallery today, I had a good understanding of parliamentary procedures and policy development, and how to write speeches and to research. I knew how to help constituents and how to work with officials in various government departments. But it is one thing to work for a member of Parliament and quite another to be one. It is for that reason that I was enormously grateful that when I took my place for the first time on one of the old benches, actually near where Hon Darren West sits now, I had Hon Barry House immediately to my left and Hon George Cash to my right. In those very early days and months that followed, it was those members, along with my office roomie, Hon Barbara Scott, and Hon Robyn McSweeney, who are in the President's gallery today, who really taught me the ropes. They answered all of my questions, helped me when I did not yet know all of the standing orders and gave me pointers along the way. It was Hon George Cash who first said something that I have often repeated to new members as they have entered this Parliament: that while being in government is always the preferred option, coming into Parliament in opposition often teaches you more. For those on the outside, these remarks might sound odd, but remember: in government, it is the ministers of the day who generally take the day-to-day limelight in this place. In opposition, we can speak on any bill, ask questions on any topic and move motions that are not all about congratulating the government of the day. But opposition is hard work, and while I have listened to a couple of the somewhat gratuitous comments by members opposite on this topic, I will just say that for my part, hard work and dedication to the job is something I have never shied away from.

When I came into this place, I was not part of the shadow cabinet; I was made, perhaps unsurprisingly, the Liberal spokesperson for youth. I did not join the shadow cabinet until two years later, when I was appointed shadow Minister for Disability Services, and it was that portfolio in particular that perhaps brought me to the attention of others. Our 2008 Liberal disability election policy, which was delivered in full in our government's first term, was shaped by my many discussions with anyone or everyone who was willing to meet with me to help me understand what was truly needed to support some of the most vulnerable in our community. It was shaped by questions I had asked in this place and by the many members of the Western Australian community who had contacted me as shadow minister to tell me of their lived experience or that of a family member. It was because I had quietly gone about my job of developing what ultimately was a very strong policy, which had broad support across the sector, that when an early election was called by then Premier Alan Carpenter, the Liberal's disability policy was ready to go, with members of the sector willing to stand with us and back it publicly. And while it did not surprise those who knew me, I think it did surprise some others. I heard through the grapevine that the minister's office was none too pleased, with The West saying the Liberals had "invaded Labor turf" with a comprehensive disability policy that was not a promise to consult but was, in the paper's words, "the genuine article". After the announcement, I remember travelling back to Parliament with Hon Colin Barnett, who is in the President's gallery today. He may not remember this, but I certainly recall him saying as we got out of the car, "Well, that was good. What shall we release tomorrow?" He said that because in the preceding few days, we had also released other policies that I had prepared—a youth policy and one aimed at tackling illicit drugs, when I, too, like Hon Sue Ellery remarked in her valedictory, was asked by the press pack whether I had ever taken illicit drugs. The answer was apparently an anticlimax, with Gary Adshead writing the following day that he "should have realised the MP was way too straight to have ever puffed the magic dragon".

Of course, the 2008 election was one that no-one thought we would win, but history will show a different outcome, and one that ultimately changed my role in the Parliament significantly. Less than two weeks after turning 33, I found myself as the new Minister for the Environment; Youth in the first Liberal–National government led by Hon Colin Barnett. I also gained my second first, becoming the youngest woman in Western Australian political history to be appointed a minister of the Crown, a record I still hold. I sincerely thank Hon Colin Barnett for appointing me to this role. Some might have said that he was taking a risk on a still fairly new and young member of Parliament, and I am sure that a few people told him that, but I will always be grateful that he placed his trust in me and gave me the wonderful opportunity to contribute as a minister and a member of the state cabinet.

However, it is fair to say that the early days in this new role presented some challenges, even on the first day. I vividly remember that after the swearing in, Scott and I went up to Dumas House where we met my then research officer, Penny Britton, who would become my executive officer. The first challenge was getting a security pass. We went to security to get a photo taken. The security guard took the photo and then said, "So which minister are you going to be working for?" I responded, "I'm actually the minister." He looked at me a little shocked and a little puzzled. I am not quite sure that he believed me, but after discreetly tapping away on the computer for a couple of minutes, I am happy to say the security pass was duly issued. The second challenge on that first day was that once we had travelled up to level 10, we found an office with no equipment and not even a chair for me to sit on, but there was a telephone. I recall very clearly Penny coming in and saying, "The Fremantle Herald is on the line. They want to know if you're going to allow lead through Fremantle." President, that was my welcome to the environment portfolio.

I will admit that the first little while as a new young minister in a contentious portfolio had its ups and downs. I was under concerted attack across a number of fronts—in this place, in the other place and from sections of the media. There were coordinated question times, when every single opposition question without notice, with no notice given I might add, was directed at me. Sometimes those attacks were personal, and some of the comments made and the language and behaviour of some certainly would not pass the pub test today. But there is a little something called resilience, and I have gained plenty of that along the way. President, I just got on with things. Certainty a turning point was my approval, with strong environmental conditions set by me, of the revised and expanded Gorgon Gas development project on Barrow Island, the largest single resource project in Australia's history and one of the largest LNG projects in the world. The project was complex, contentious and highly anticipated. Hours were spent with the Appeals Convener and my staff working through each of the appeals against the Environmental Protection Authority's recommended conditions for the project, which at the time was estimated as having an economic impact of $50 billion. My final approval included incredibly stringent conditions to provide the highest levels of protection for regionally significant coral reefs and flatback marine turtles, and a requirement for the proponents to significantly contribute to several additional conservation programs for the life of the project, including a conservation benefit fund and a turtle conservation program. The project highlighted the challenges and fine balance of achieving the highest environmental standards and the long-term economic benefits of major projects to our state and beyond.

Over the next couple of years of my tenure as minister there were many other significant achievements delivered across the environment portfolio. These included the initiation and delivery of key conservation initiatives for environmentally significant regions, including the Kimberley. This work provided a clear framework for the region's long-term conservation, including a significant focus on landscape-scale programs targeting fire and other control projects, investment in major marine science research, tourism initiatives and joint management of land. The centrepiece of the strategy was a proposal to establish what we called at the time the Kimberley wilderness parks. It paved the way for the upgrade of the Prince Regent Nature Reserve to national park status, and the delivery of four Kimberley marine parks: Roebuck Bay; Eighty Mile Beach; the North Kimberley Marine Park, which remains the second largest in Australia; and, of course, my favourite, Camden Sound. Camden Sound Marine Park is now a protected place, where the largest population of humpback whales in the world can safely arrive to calve and nurse their young. I was subsequently conferred the honorary title "Donna of the Whales" by Colin!

I established the Office of the Environmental Protection Authority, which, at the time, represented the biggest change to the EPA in more than 20 years. It was given greater autonomy and management of its own resources with its own budget and staff. Sadly, in its wisdom, the Labor government decided to dissolve the office in 2017 as part of the machinery-of-government changes, despite the fact that when I established that office, it was strongly supported by industry and environment groups alike. I also oversaw reforms to the environmental assessment process, which saw me finalise 742 appeals against 214 proposals during my term and issue more than double the number of environmental ministerial statements in 2009 compared with the Labor government in 2007. I like to remind members on the other side of that figure every now and again. Establishing the Rediscovering our National Parks program, which saw a significant funding injection for capital works to improve visitor facilities at many of our state's national and regional parks, was another highlight. Perhaps still one of my favourites was the creation of a 400-hectare predator-free enclosure for the critically endangered woylie at Tone-Perup Nature Reserve. Some officers in the department had wanted to use available funds from an offset to buy up some land to add to the conservation estate, but after receiving a briefing on the plight of the woylies, this Minister for the Environment had a much better idea of where those funds should go—the construction of that enclosure. I was so happy to hear what members will recall as a fairly entertaining answer by the Minister for the Environment just a couple of weeks ago that the sanctuary has continued to contribute in a very positive way to improving woylie population numbers across our state.

Of course, I was not just Minister for the Environment, but also Minister for Youth. I oversaw the first funding increase in 14 years to Cadets WA and wanted to expand this hugely successful youth program to younger students. I joined my environment and youth hats together and came up with the idea of River Rangers—the first junior cadet program for young people in their final years of primary school. I will admit that I was really pleased when I attended Bassendean Primary School's graduation ceremony last year and heard the principal talk about the value of the River Rangers program and what it has meant to so many students since its inception. I reinstated the funding to the WA Youth Parliament. I supported various youth development initiatives and revamped the WA Youth Awards. I strongly felt that a new award should be created to recognise youth workers across our state. To this day, the Minister for Youth's Most Outstanding Youth Worker Award continues to be awarded each year.

Of course, in amongst all this, something else happened: I fell pregnant. So it was that for just less than nine months, the little woylie in the pouch, as she was known in my office, travelled far and wide with me, sometimes giving me an elbow during a press conference or doing a somersault when she was clearly bored with one of our weekly meetings with the director general. I think we were all relieved after one particular off-road visit in the Kimberley with the Premier in my very late stages of pregnancy that all the bouncing around in the car on a dirt road had not necessitated a quick dash back to Broome Health Campus for an early arrival!

Just less than a week before Clare was born, I stepped down from the ministry. I admit it was not an easy decision, but both Scott and I felt it was important to take some time to learn how to be a little family of three without the spotlight of being a minister, albeit I was back full-time in this place when Clare was less than three months old, when the Premier appointed me his parliamentary secretary. In this role, I was delighted to assist the Premier on a range of issues, most particularly the state's coordination of the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting and the Queen's visit to Perth in 2011, the science portfolio, and various issues relating to children, as well as the state's recognition of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I thank John, Kate and Mary-Jane De'Laney, with whom I worked closely to see this day recognised. They are in the gallery today.

While I was parliamentary secretary, a new member of our family arrived, albeit under a bit more challenging circumstances than our firstborn. I spent some time away from the Parliament and was confined to almost 24/7 bed rest, both at home and sometimes in hospital, to ensure that our baby stayed where he was meant to. Against all the odds, Harry did stay in place, arriving safely just a few days before the 2013 election. This personal experience was extremely difficult for me, Scott and our family, but it also gave me a greater insight into and understanding of the importance of critical early supports throughout pregnancy and meant that I advocated strongly and perhaps persistently to the then health minister, Kim Hames, to ensure the preterm birth prevention clinic at King Edward Memorial Hospital for Women received, after a successful trial, initial government funding and support.

I would of course go on to have the absolute privilege to again join the ministry through my appointment as Minister for Planning; Disability Services. Planning, much like environment, had plenty of potential contention attached to it. Again, I spent hours working through various planning amendments, oversaw the commencement of works at Scarborough Beach and continued to oversee and give approval to a series of development aspects of Elizabeth Quay, which, much like the stadium, has become a defining landmark in our city's landscape. I also became a strong advocate for Design WA—an initiative to ensure that good design is at the centre of all development.

As Minister for Disability Services, of course, I came in at the start of negotiations between the state and the Commonwealth on the National Disability Insurance Scheme, with the trials of both the Western Australian and Commonwealth NDIS well underway. After months of significant negotiation and many discussions with my Commonwealth counterpart, Hon Christian Porter at the time, we got an agreed bilateral agreement between the state and the Commonwealth to allow for national consistency but with local operational control of the NDIS. It was a significant acknowledgement of Western Australia's long-time ability to deliver disability services at the local level. History will show that, ultimately, with the change in government, a different decision allowing for centralised control would be taken after the 2017 election. I did not agree with that decision, but I do not intend to dwell on that today. All I will say is that I have continued to watch the rollout of this reform with interest and have found it a little ironic on occasion when I have heard federal Labor over the last little while argue that the states need to do more. That, President, is exactly what we wanted to do in the first place.

Of course, my interest in advancing policies and initiatives that support people with disability and children with developmental concerns has always been part of my time in this place. It has always bewildered me that there is an accepted premise across the media and by sections of the community that the Liberal Party is neither strong nor passionate about advancing policies impacting children, families and community services generally. For my part, I reject that premise. My interest in these policy areas, particularly as they relate to children, dates back well before my entry to Parliament. It is so important to ensure that a dedicated focus is placed on the needs of the youngest members of our community. As I have often said, children do not have a voice in this place, but we do. I have therefore used the privilege of being a member of this house to advocate for children across a number of fronts. I have consistently highlighted, perhaps to the annoyance of some of my colleagues opposite and ministers in the other place, the impact of unacceptably long wait times to access paediatricians and vital allied health services on a child's development. In 2022, this culminated in a significant push by me, supported by many families, health, education and community service organisations, to establish a select committee of the Legislative Council to inquire into child development services in this state.

The committee, which was ultimately formed after the house agreed to its establishment and comprised Hon Dr Sally Talbot, Hon Samantha Rowe and me, delivered a significant report that made clear recommendations to improve the accessibility and sustainability of this vital government service. The government responded in part with additional funding of $39 million, which was very welcome. But to be honest, I am not sure that amount of funding would have been provided if it were not for my consistent advocacy and that of others, and for the tabling of that committee report, which again, sadly, placed on the parliamentary record what the government already knew and had failed to rectify; that is, the system had been severely underfunded for far, far too long. I ask the government not to allow that bipartisan report to gather dust. It does provide a way forward. Although there are 10 very good, I might add, minority recommendations from me, there are also 57 recommendations agreed to by all three members—two Labor members and one Liberal member. Members will know that Hon Dr Sally Talbot and I have not always agreed in this place, but on this particular issue I think we certainly agree on what the government needs to do.

While I am at it, I hope that many of the issues I have raised in this place over the years that relate to children continue to be raised by both current members and incoming members. I am, of course, very pleased that the government followed our lead at the recent election by matching our commitment to provide funding to Ngala to ensure universal access to its residential parenting service, which is a really important service for WA families. It is something I have advocated for strongly and a Liberal policy I was proud to prepare and announce. But there is more to do. My advocacy for children has been shaped by so many discussions, research and answers to what feels like thousands of child-related questions asked in this place over 20 years. And on that, I do sincerely thank the officers in the Child and Adolescent Health Service, the metropolitan Child Development Service and the WA Country Health Service, who had the unfortunate task of preparing answers to well over 250 questions from me asked in this place, and during budget estimates and annual report hearings in just the last four years alone. I hate to tell them and the long-suffering Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Health, who had the unfortunate task of having to answer many of those questions in this house, that we still have two question times left before the end of my term, and they might have a couple more heading their way! They can get a well-earned rest on Thursday, President.

I do not pretend the issues I have consistently championed in and outside this place will solve everything, but there are clear opportunities for government to do better to support children, particularly young children and their families. We need more child and parent centres, more KindiLink and CaLDEYLink programs, increased support for community kindergartens, greater support for child health nurses, a child wellbeing strategy and to introduce mobile child allied health clinics. Then there is the one thing that I have perhaps most consistently encouraged the government to do—that is, to introduce speech pathology services directly into our schools. I really and truly wish that the government would, at the very least, trial such a service, and I am certainly not alone in that view. Because, as I will say for the very last time in this place: children, who grow up so very quickly, do not have time to wait.

From an electorate perspective, I recognise that at the conclusion of my time in this place I will have reached another record that, as a result of our changed electoral system, is unlikely to ever be broken—that being, the longest-serving member for the East Metropolitan Region across all political parties. President, it is the things we do as members within our electorates on a daily basis that never make the nightly news or the paper that make our role so very special. My commitment to the East Metropolitan Region, which is where I have lived all of my life, has never wavered. For 20 years, I have had the immense privilege of supporting and advocating in many different ways for many community organisations, schools, local charities and constituents. Over the years, I have been patron to many organisations, from the Swan Guildford Historical Society to the former Fairholme disability support group, Native Animal Rescue, Midland Junction Poultry Society, and in the year it won the premiership flag, Swan Districts Football Club—home to the mighty black and whites! My mother, an avid Swans supporter, like generations of my family, was particularly thrilled with that appointment.

Of course, over 20 years, good friendships have been formed with many fabulous community organisations. I will certainly miss my regular catch-ups with the boys at the Machinery Preservation Club of WA, Tanya McGrath and the team at Woodlupine Family Centre, Balga Salvos, Roleystone Family Centre, Midland Men's Shed, Bassendean Melody Club, the Bus Preservation Society of WA, Darling Range Seniors Hub, Midland and Districts Historical Society and Kanyana Wildlife, to name just a few.

I cannot go without mentioning some of the RSL branches I have engaged with, particularly the Kalamunda, Mount Lawley–Inglewood and Bedford sub-branches, at which I have attended many dawn and remembrance services, and, of course, Mundaring RSL, led by my dear friend Eric Smith. With the exception of the COVID years, I have attended every one of its Anzac Day services since becoming a member.

I think one of the most rewarding things we have undertaken is our annual charity events. Over the years, I have hosted many community teas that have raised thousands of dollars and seen the donation of hundreds of items in support of wonderful organisations such as Parkerville Children and Youth Care, Moort Care, Ngala, the Women and Infants Research Foundation, Pia's Place, Cancer Council WA and the wonderful Starting Over Support.

Through many different forms of advocacy, I have supported and seen the successful delivery of various road projects—some large and some small. I fought strongly for capital and maintenance improvements across many schools and supported local community groups and not-for-profit organisations to gain funding for new equipment or new premises, including organisations such as Swan City Youth Service and Waterwheel Community Shed. One that is very special to me is Pia's Place in Whiteman Park. It took years of tireless advocacy by Amy Rudd and her family before they saw the development of an inclusive play space in honour of their late daughter, Pia, come to fruition. And what an amazing place it is now for children of all abilities; a place where they can have fun and participate. I was so pleased to be a long-term supporter both as a local member and as Minister for Planning; Disability Services, ensuring a location was finalised and the initial funding provided towards not only the planning and development of the area, but also the construction of an appropriate changing places bathroom facility adjacent to Pia's Place to ensure that Whiteman Park was a fully inclusive destination for people with disability.

Although there have been many success stories, perhaps the best have actually come from being in opposition. Given the time available, I will highlight just a couple. Firstly, after advocating strongly and ultimately successfully with the local community back in 2016, we saw the reversal of the government's decision to cut funding to a number of local community centres, including Woodlupine Family Centre in Forrestfield. Again last year, the same centres were faced with only one-year funding extensions. We fought again and we won again, with those centres receiving five-year contracts. Albeit, I will say that it is about time their annual government funding was increased. Secondly, working with the Community Kindergartens Association WA, particularly association president Jo Matthewson, we have advocated in various ways to ensure that no community kindergarten, many of which are in the East Metro Region, has been forced to close as a result of the government's arbitrary enrolment threshold. I have gone down so many slides, made fabulous playdough dinosaurs and played with plenty of building blocks with kindy kids over the years, all in the name of advocacy.

The final story I will mention happened a long time ago, but it is still raised with me in the electorate, even as late as the last election, when someone thanked me again for what I had done so many years ago. That is, Governor Stirling Senior High School in Woodbridge. It was left in a complete state of disrepair, to put it mildly. The school community came to me early in my first term. I visited the school and saw the appalling and unsafe conditions that students and staff were expected to work in. The school had literally been left to rot by successive governments. On that visit, I gave a commitment to the school community that I would do everything I possibly could to get the school fixed. We set out with a plan. Through a petition, questions in this place, adjournment speeches, visits to the school by the Legislative Council's Environment and Public Affairs Committee and the then shadow Minister for Education, Hon Peter Collier, as well as plenty of local media attention, we finally got an outcome with the demolition and complete rebuild of that school. Of all the local wins over 20 years, Governor Stirling Senior High School will always be the standout. I will perhaps add that a number of the elements of that successful campaign were used again many years later when I, as shadow Minister for Education, worked closely with concerned parents and the Perth Modernian Society to save Perth Modern School, which is a school with significant standing and a proud history since its opening in 1911. We worked together to overturn the government's decision, which was made without any consultation, to relocate Perth Modern School to a high-rise inner-city school.

Speaking of schools, many will know that one of my greatest joys being a local member has been my involvement with schools right across the electorate. Over the years, I have attended hundreds of school assemblies, events and activities. In that regard, it seems most appropriate that my last official electorate duty will be to read to the delightful year 1s and 2s at Inglewood Primary School, where my children went, at 10:00 tomorrow morning as part of National Simultaneous Storytime. Over 20 years, well over 2,000 students have received a graduation award that bears my name. I admit that the name of the award has had various iterations reflecting the transition of the Liberal East Metro ticket over the years: the Morton–Taylor award; the Morton–Faragher award; the Morton–Faragher–Hayden award; and, since 2017, simply the Donna Faragher Leadership and Service Award. Despite the name changes, the award has continued to be provided to around 150 deserving students from Byford to Balga each year.

Over 20 years, thousands of year 3 students have participated in my Christmas card art competition. I have had decorative Christmas trees, a Santa taking a break on the beach, Santa being pulled by kangaroos, a koala singing "Deck the Halls" koala style, and so much more. My staff had contact with the very first winner from Guildford Primary School not so long ago. He would now be 28 years of age. That does make me feel old! Many trees have been donated and planted for Schools Tree Day and there are hundreds of books in school libraries that I have donated during Children's Book Week. On that, I will give some advice to new players. My personal favourites to read to kindy kids are "Room on the Broom" and "The Koala Who Could". You can't get much better than a goodhearted witch with ginger hair and a koala called Kevin!

Finally, before I turn to some final words, I want to say something about this house. In my first speech I spoke of the importance of our bicameral system and said that checks and balances upon governments through the use of a second parliamentary chamber are an essential part of our philosophy and the philosophy of all democracies. This is a position I still hold. This might get me in trouble with the other place, but although there is a lot of bluff and bluster in the other place during a parliamentary sitting week, I think we would all agree that it is this house where the true legislative work is done. It is here where bills are properly scrutinised and where committees, like the mighty Standing Committee on Uniform Legislation and Statutes Review, which I chaired in the 41st Parliament, can truly assess the appropriateness and impact of clauses and where amendments can generally be made and, hopefully, better bills are passed as a result. Members will, however, know that I have lamented on occasion in the last few years with respect to some of the changes we have witnessed that relate to the customs, conventions and practices of this house. I do not intend to dwell on this today because plenty of the remarks that I have made are in Hansard, but I will just say this: be cautious. Some may say that the customs and practices of this house are not so important, but they are, in my view, here for a reason. That does not mean to say there are not opportunities to tweak or refine the system, but if the house's role continues to be diminished, it will be a disservice to not only the Parliament, but also the community as a whole.

In turning to some final words, it is now time to do some thankyous. I have served under many Liberal leaders over the years—far too many, in my humble opinion. Nonetheless, I want to speak of two of them in particular. First, Hon Colin Barnett. I have mentioned Colin a few times already, but I simply thank him again for placing his trust in me all those years ago. History will show that there were many great achievements under the Barnett government and, for my part, I will always be proud to say I was a minister in his government. The other is the member for Vasse and our now Deputy Leader of the Opposition, Libby Mettam MLA. Libby led our party with commitment and purpose during one of our most difficult periods. Her work ethic, dedication, positive attitude and strength of character are second to none, and she has my total admiration and respect.

To all my staff in both my electorate and ministerial offices over the years, including those in the gallery or listening in today, Nikki Day, Georgina Gardner, Dawn Fitzgerald, Penny Britton, Nikki Kozulin and my current staff members Collette Wainwright and Annette Livesey, I say thank you. We have had many fun times and we have had our challenges, like most other offices. Mind you, and, President, you will attest to this, I do not think many other electorate offices have had a car literally crash into their main entrance on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, no-one was hurt. Particularly over the last eight years when I have essentially been the sole Liberal member across the East Metropolitan Region in both the upper and lower house, my staff and I, particularly Collette, Annette and previously Georgina, have worked really hard from our lovely office in Guildford to ensure that I have been out and about as much as is humanly possible right across the electorate. The connections we have made with many organisations and individuals has been incredibly rewarding. Thank you for being very hardworking and loyal. My staff have gone above and beyond. They have been willing, perhaps at times reluctantly, to be in funny photos for Facebook and have always been ever so patient with my somewhat perfectionist tendencies that come to the fore whenever I do my electorate newsletter. Mind you, I apologise to them that I have never quite got that shared OneDrive system on our computers, no matter how many times they have tried to teach me!

To the Liberal Party, I thank the great band of volunteers who support our great party through thick and thin. I am fortunate to have made many lifelong friends. I have mentioned some already in Heather, Kevin, Kate and Sherryl, but I also mention my friends from the early Perth division days, two of whom are in the gallery today: Fay Duda and Ted Gray. There are others who could not be here but who deserve a mention: Mathias Cormann, Richard Ellis, Jonathan Daventry and the late Margie Gray.

To my colleagues on all sides of the house, it is not lost on me that with the departure of Hon Sue Ellery and I the redhead faction, of which I am going to call us the co-convenors—is going to be severely diminished. Some of you may see the loss of two, at times fairly feisty, redheads as a blessing, but I will leave that to you to judge! In acknowledging members opposite, notwithstanding my sometimes unruly interjections during question time when I have received what is, in my view, a ridiculous answer from the government, in all our debates I have always sought to be respectful, fair and focused on the issue at hand, never the person. Although we have disagreed, sometimes strongly, on various matters, we have also probably agreed on a great deal more. That bipartisanship has been present perhaps most clearly through our parliamentary committee system. It is also present in parliamentary friends groups, and I particularly acknowledge my fellow co-conveners of the Parliamentary Friends of Rare and Undiagnosed Diseases, Hon Matthew Swinbourn and Stephen Pratt MLA. The group did important work in the 41st Parliament and I hope it continues in the 42nd.

Now to my own colleagues, first to Hon Peter Collier. We came in together and we are leaving together. We have been ministers and shadow ministers together, but, bizarrely, I do not think in our 20 years we have actually ever sat on a committee together. We have both somehow successfully dodged the Joint Standing Committee on Delegated Legislation, and I, for one, am eternally grateful! You are my best mate in this place, Harry's fabulous godfather and Clare's favourite Uncle Pete. You will always be popular in the Faragher household.

To all my other colleagues, it is fair to say that I have perhaps brought a bit of colour to this side of the house over the past few years. Although I will no longer be in this Parliament, I am sure you will all miss me popping up during party room meetings with my occasional redhead contributions and wise words. Mind you, this may also be tempered with some element of relief by you all! I thank you for your friendship and for all that we have done together. I wish you well and every success over the next four years and beyond.

To the staff of the Parliament, the Clerk and all the chamber staff, Rob Hunter and all the Parliamentary Services Department team, thank you for all that you do for us every day. To the Parliamentary Library, the Hansard reporters for making our speeches read so very eloquently, and to our wonderful reception staff who have been taking my calls for years, I thank you.

I also particularly thank the wonderful catering staff who look after us so well and the fabulous staff who are responsible for those sausage rolls. Members will know that they are a particular favourite of mine, and I will admit, President, that I am actually kind of proud of myself that I managed to get to almost 20 years in this place before I unfortunately slipped up one morning in front of Scott and the kids and admitted my morning tea on a Thursday parliamentary morning consists of a cup of tea and one or two sausage rolls. President, they were horrified!

So to my final thankyous. To my dear friends, a number who are in the gallery today or listening in: thank you for always being there. In this regard, I particularly mention my fellow bridesmaids, as we are fondly known, Liz Shakespeare, Rebecca Spencer and Suzanne Woods, and of course their husbands Gavin, Paul and Andrew. You are the bestest friends a girl could ever ask for. I also thank one of my dearest friends from university Liberal days, Hon Rachel Merton MLC, member of the Legislative Council in New South Wales, for travelling across to be with us today.

To my family: first, there are, sadly, two people who are not here today but who require special mention—my mum and dad. My dad was the quieter one but the wisest man I have ever known, and he taught me so much. My mum was also very wise but not so quiet! Those in the gallery will attest that she was a character. She was a strong redhead and was no doubt my greatest public advocate. I thank them for all the opportunities they gave me, their wise counsel and for their love and unconditional support. The values they instilled in me will remain with me always. And now to Scott, Clare and Harry: I cannot thank Scott enough for his love, support, encouragement and, of course, patience. He has been by my side every step of the way and I could not have done this without him. Mind you, I am not sure that Scott is quite prepared for me being home a little more, lest I think of some new projects that we should do! But, President, for his part, Scott has helpfully suggested that the tradition of sausage rolls on a Thursday morning should continue! And to my children, Clare and Harry: the most important job I have in this world is to be your mum, and I am so very proud of both of you. Kind, funny, creative and sports-crazy, you make me happy every day. I do, however, have one more thing to say to my family, and it is an apology in advance. Given I have been a member for so long, some habits will be hard to break. Unfortunately for Clare and Harry, I expect they will continue to be subject to Mum's question time, and given it only requires one signature to be valid, I expect I will be preparing a petition one day, calling for rooms to always be tidy! But I promise this: this will definitely be the last long speech you have to endure and there will be no member statements from me before bed!

In closing my remarks, I come back to where I started. Over 20 years I have stood in this place hundreds of times, asking questions, answering questions, introducing bills, debating bills, tabling petitions, tabling committee reports and delivering ministerial statements and many member statements. It has been an enormous privilege to be able to do this and a privilege that very few members of the Western Australian community have had the opportunity to have.

President, when I returned to the ministry in 2016, a former staff member from my first ministry, Nikki, who is in the gallery today, had a book placed on my desk. It was a notebook with no words inside but the cover read "Finish what you started". That book has remained on my desk since then. Tomorrow, President, I will finish what I started all those years ago, and I hope that I have held true to the words I said in my first speech in this place in which I committed "to work hard, to contribute and to strongly and effectively represent the interests and concerns of the East Metropolitan community, while at the same time upholding those beliefs and values that we as Liberals proudly hold". Thank you.

(Applause.)

Hon Dr Sally Talbot (South West Region) (2:08 pm): President, a few weeks ago, as I started to put together my thoughts about this final speech, my social media feed popped up with a link to the Monty Python sketch "The All England Summarise Proust Competition"—seven volumes of Proust in 15 seconds. I know tradition grants me a bit longer than that for a valedictory speech, but aspects of trying to condense the last 20 years into one speech have seemed at times as daunting as the Proust challenge, and not nearly as funny. I do recommend it to you, by the way. The other point about valedictories, of course, was always put succinctly by the first Labor President in this place, Hon John Cowdell, who observed that when you die and no current MP has a clue who you were, the only two speeches anyone will consult for the final vale tribute in Parliament are your first and your last.

Your first speech in this place is, as many members would remember, primarily a moment of pure terror. When I made my inaugural speech on 24 May 2005, it was within the living memory of this chamber that new members were rostered to speak on whatever matter came up on the notice paper, which led to one unfortunate person having to frame his first speech in terms of the onion bill. I referred to this in my first speech. Re-reading it the other day, I had one of those "I wonder whether that is actually true" moments that occur quite frequently when you have 20 years worth of speeches on the public record. It turns out that it is. It is actually subsidiary legislation, and I must say that clause 5 would have offered some quite tempting opportunities to expound on one's parliamentary aspirations, couched as it is in terms of:

Onions shall be graded according to their quality and site as Grade I, Grade II, Large, picklers, spring onions and bunched onions.

But if I take that thought too much further, I would be succumbing to the bad angels. Just to prove once and for all that I do listen to the advice of Hon Sue Ellery, I have decided that it is best not to go down that route.

So, at least in the 21st century, we have been permitted to frame our first speeches around the twin themes of "where have I come from?" and "why am I here?" The things I found most disconcerting when I dared to go back and read what I offered as answers 20 years ago was how little the circumstances in which we do our politics have changed. We feel today as though something really significant broke at the end of last year, when the re-election of Trump in America brought crashing down the assumption that decency and fairness were foundational aspirations of democratic societies. It feels, as I say, devastating. Here in Australia, we are keeping that devastation at bay, but who really thought that in 2025, the second major party at the two general elections we have had in Western Australia would run on an explicitly racist platform of refusing to stand with the Aboriginal flag and derogating the practice of acknowledging Aboriginal country? We could not live further away, yet, even at this distance, the American oxygen being pumped into the extreme right wing has filtered through our politics. The battle lines have become evident even in this house, with some members using the Parliament as a tub to thump on issues like the rights of the LGBTIQA+ community and the decriminalisation of abortion.

As I say, this feels devastating. I expected to find that rewinding 20 years would be a reminder of how things looked in a happier time. In fact, of course, we have for several decades been grappling with the feeling that we live in an age of almost paralysing uncertainty. In 2005, we were trying to work out how to survive after the World Trade Center attacks and, here in Australia, the collapse of Ansett. People's faith in their institutions was beginning to falter, and even though we had survived the Y2K bug, you could almost feel the global financial crisis shimmering in the wings.

Addressing this in 2005, I suggested that there were three guiding principles that we as legislators and leaders could employ to effect positive change in a time when suddenly nothing felt safe. The first was that rather than self-interest, we would do better to look to collective action—that we are stronger together and that the collective good is more robust and of infinitely more value than individual self-satisfaction. The second was the need to rise to the challenge of seeing that some of the things that appear to be threats might be transformed into opportunities by changes of focus or emphasis. Finally, I spoke about how we might help people make sense of the changing world so that everyone has the courage to make choices about the sort of life they want to live and build the relationships of trust and cooperation that make civic life worth living.

Now, as I stand here to farewell my life as a parliamentarian, I can say with a sense of being true to myself that, for me, these principles still stand. They have, in fact, guided me through every day of the last 20 years. I literally carry them around with me every day in the form of a quotation by the poet philosopher Kołakowski, who wrote about what motivates the work of progressive activism. It is not fun, he says; it is not easy or rewarding or offering of easy victories or miraculous devices. Rather, he says, the motive is "an obstinate will to erode by inches the conditions which produce avoidable suffering". I count myself as extraordinarily fortunate to have been able to channel this obstinate will into a parliamentary life.

I admit it: I have not loved every minute. I said that your first speech is a moment of pure terror, and when I am mentoring young political activists, I always warn them that if you are doing your job diligently, you will never lose that frisson of fear that goes with political performance: Are you in the right place at the right time? Have you brought the right speech notes? What if someone asks an incomprehensible question? A very wise person once admitted to me that their plan B when facing parliamentary question time was to fall off their chair in a dead faint. Public life is stressful beyond the imagination of anyone who has not experienced it. Especially for a country MP like me, it is also at times a lonely and exhausting life. And, of course, the moment when your political and your private lives collide on the front page of Saturday's The West Australian is not easily forgotten, especially when it happens on the very day that your brother gets off the plane from London and ends up wondering why his sister spends the whole weekend steering him away from anywhere that might have a newspaper on display! I have not loved every minute, but I would do it all again in a heartbeat, because the truth is that if you are committed to the work of reducing avoidable suffering, there are few more effective places to be than in a Parliament.

Let me say some things about that work. I came into this place on the high of Labor's second-term victory in 2005. Second terms are never to be taken for granted, but the solid campaign structure that Bill Johnston and I, as State Secretary and Assistant State Secretary of WA Labor, put together between 2001 and 2005 delivered us a remarkably strong victory. I know that, like Queen Mary, there is something they will find lying on Bill's heart when he dies. It will not be Calais, but I fully expect them to find a copy of a certain ad about former federal Treasurer Peter Costello's less-than-enthusiastic reaction to Colin Barnett's canal proposal. I will admit that the canal and the last-minute catastrophic costings error by the Liberals were very helpful, but we did run a great campaign, one of the happy consequences of which was that Bill and I proved that you can indeed find real and lasting friendship in the political realm.

That first term was a great period, although probably marked out in a lot of people's minds by the resignation of then Premier Geoff Gallop. I was in Salzburg when the announcement was made, with tickets to see The Marriage of FigaroPartial Reason at the festival that night. By the time the curtain would have been rising, I was stranded in transit in Japan, trying to get back to Australia to carry out my duties as caucus secretary. Geoff was a great leader, a true philosopher king, and I have often wondered how differently the next 19 years would have played out if he could have been persuaded to stay. I know he thinks that I underdid RM Hare in my book. If our paths cross again after my exit from this place, I might have a bit more brain space to explain why archangels only got a passing reference in than I had when he raised it with me 30 years ago at 5:30 one morning between laps at Somerset swimming pool. It was a very Geoff moment.

On an intensely personal note, my recollection of the challenges of those first few years is indelibly marked by the death of both of my parents at the end of 2007. They died within a month of each other, first my mother, then my father. Some of you may remember that they were in the President's gallery behind us for my first speech in 2005. My mother had been very ill for some years with a wicked and extremely rare neurodegenerative disease. In a way impossible to express at the time, but which some in this chamber will recognise, I had looked forward to spending some years with my father somewhere in the future, and it took me a long time before I could see that it had been the outcome which he certainly would have chosen.

That period in government came to a crashing halt in 2008. Losing an election is a terrible feeling and few of us who were there will ever forget those agonising eight days between 6 and 14 September 2008, during which the National Party worked out whether it was more blue than red. They say that you learn the most about the effective use of this place when you are in opposition. I am not sure that is true in every respect, but it was certainly the moment in which I sensed the really tough struggle began. You work so hard in opposition because it is so awful. You are a loser in the eyes of the electorate, you have almost no resources, you spend all day and most of the night, week after week, month after month and even year after year, plugging away at the arguments you are trying to make, forensically pulling apart every single thing the government does, while at the same time putting together a positive agenda for doing things the Labor way.

I started clearing out my office at Parliament House the same day that Hon Sue Ellery gave her valedictory a few weeks ago. Sue talked about how hard we worked during those opposition years. I had her comments fresh in my mind as I started emptying literally dozens of drawers filled to the brim with all the files from those days. We did not just line up for question time; we fought ferociously on every bill and motion that came to the house. We wrote legislation. We used our committee system, even as a minority party, to stop some of the worst excesses of the conservatives. We even got the state Constitution amended to include Aboriginal people in the preamble, all from opposition. It was a team effort, but I am allowed just this once to blow my own trumpet a bit. As shadow Minister for the Environment, I wrote the legislation for a container deposit scheme that our leader, Eric Ripper, introduced into the other place in 2011. The Liberal–National government had decided it wanted to wait for a national scheme, but we worked up a really powerful argument based on both environmental protection and community support that simply could not wait. That bill was never going to go very far as a private member's bill, but it is true to say that it was a watershed moment in establishing that the states needed to act, which of course we did in 2020 once Labor was back in office.

It was a similar story with plastic bags. It was Jay Weatherill, before he became the South Australian Premier, who advised me to make this a headline issue, again, based on the fact that there was huge community support for a ban and the environmental benefits would be massive. To this day, I have never really understood what it is in the conservative political agenda that makes them so implacably resistant to the introduction of things like container deposits and plastic bag bans. No-one knows better than Hon Donna Faragher that my view on these things is very firm. I remember having a fairly heated discussion on the radio with the journalist Paul Murray about the availability of non-plastic dog poo bags. I have to say, I do think of Paul every time I am cleaning up after our chocolate labrador at the dog park. Anyway, eventually we got the plastic bag ban in 2018, once Labor was back in office.

As a member of the Standing Committee on Legislation, chaired at the time by Liberal member Hon Michael Mischin, who went on to become the Attorney General, I spent 159 hours over the course of 39 meetings in 2010 and 2011 fighting the Liberal–National government's moves to introduce stop-and-search laws in WA. While disclosing nothing of the committee's deliberations, it is a matter of fact that I was the only Labor member of Parliament on the committee, and the government had the numbers. Nonetheless, that legislation did not proceed, with the final report's first recommendation reading:

A majority of the Committee … recommends that the Criminal Investigation Amendment Bill 2009 be opposed.

In my spare time during that period, I managed to get some significant changes to the parliamentary prayer. Believe it or not, we used to start each parliamentary day reflecting specifically about man and his fellow men, which seemed to me to be worthy of a bit of stirring. I wrote to the then President, Hon Barry House, suggesting that there were three ways we could solve the "man" problem. The first, I suggested, accepted what I was pretty sure would be the argument of opponents of my cunning plan: man is a generic term that includes women. It would read "Almighty God, creator of the universe, giver of life, who has ordained that man of both sexes should live as a social being, seeking the fulfilment of his or her own true purpose within the society and sanctions of his or her fellow man of both sexes." I was pretty sure that would wake everyone up, paving the way for more elegant solutions. When I discussed this matter with my son, who was 25 years old at the time, his immediate reaction was that the best way to address the imbalance created by so many years of using male-gendered language was simply to swap genders so that the prayer would read, "Almighty God, creator of the universe, giver of life, who has ordained that woman should live as a social being seeking the fulfilment of her own true purpose within the society and sanctions of her fellow woman." Although I remain very proud of having a son who is completely fearless about discussing gender politics, I did suggest to him that it might be safer to consider an option that would have rather fewer honourable members choking on their cucumber sandwiches. I know several members thought I was being a bit unadventurous in not moving to abolish the prayer altogether, but I was, and remain, of the view that with so little time in the modern world for reflection, it does nobody any harm to sit quietly for a few minutes and even focus for a bit on the responsibility placed on us by the institution of Parliament not to forget who put us here and why. The non-gendered version of the prayer is now a sound component of the other gender-neutral procedural language which you, President, have introduced into this chamber, and I congratulate you for that.

One last point about those opposition years. I talked about how awful opposition is, but there is a special designation of rewardlessness attached to the role of opposition leader. Imagine having a job in which its sole criteria of success is to lose it. One of the reasons we were able to be such an effective opposition during the first three and a half years following the 2008 defeat was the leadership provided by Eric Ripper. I remember the assignments he used to give us—you could not take the teacher out of Eric—and although we would all have a bit of a grumble, he made us work hard, organise effectively and never ever lose sight of the fact that disadvantaged people needed Labor back in government. That was not to be, of course, with 2013 seeing us washed away again in the federal tidal wave.

Actually, in my household, the 2013 general election was a time of considerable celebration. Jon was directing the Kimberley campaign, where the retirement of the sitting Labor member was making things somewhat tricky for Labor. I was working with the inimitable Mick Murray in Collie–Preston. In the final days of the campaign, both of us got a call from the state secretary. Having been a party official, I knew exactly what information the state secretary would have just been presented with before he rang marginal seat directors 48 hours before polling day to talk down their chances of holding the seat. I still recall where I was standing when I took his call and the discussion we had—or perhaps, more accurately, the discussion I had with myself—about how we had been here before and held on, famously in 2001 when Mick won the seat by 34 votes. I went over how carefully we had targeted our messaging, how Mick was brilliant at persuading people he was their man even if they were not that keen on the party, and how my calculation was that the demographic changes would ultimately play for us.

When the state secretary rang Jon, he got a rather different response. Jon told him that whatever his data was telling him was wrong. Here is Jon's account of how the conversation went: "Whenever passing a living water spring within the central Kimberley area, I would always stop to pay respects to this ancient special place. On this occasion, a hot, humid and still day, I pondered whether I had done enough to deliver victory for my candidate. In that moment, suddenly, the still, hot humidity gave way to a gentle cooling breath of air as a melaleuca tree branch brushed across my hand, releasing a few leaves. It left me with a feeling of calm and confidence that all would go well and victory was assured." I was never quite sure how the poor state secretary reported that conversation back to the campaign committee, but suffice it to say we ended up winning both seats.

It was later in 2013 that I had my only serious crisis of faith about what I was doing as a member of Parliament. Nothing would be served by going into detail here, although I did make a clear enough statement at the time. What prompted the crisis was finding myself at a clear line-in-the-sand moment, and it was not a situation that I could sustain. It is not something I would wish on anyone, but I will say that if you find yourself there, I hope that, like me, you find a resolution that will enable you to stand up 12 years later completely confident that you did the right thing. My loyalty to and, indeed, my love for the Labor Party remains intact to this day, and I am proud beyond words of the work we have put into building the Labor Party back into the entity it is today.

There is a lot more I could say about that second term in opposition, but I will adopt the approach taken by other members in their valedictories and simply say that that can wait for the book.

After I had made the decision in 2013 to step down from the front bench, various friends were generous with their advice. I first met Hon John Cowdell in 1983 when, can you believe it, we were both 29 years old. He gave me my first, albeit unpaid, job in the Australian Labor Party. I photocopied all the policy documents for the February 1983 state election. We have been friends ever since, although I have warned him about constantly referring to himself as being younger than I—63 days simply does not count. John's reaction to the news of my stepping down from the front bench was to present me with a copy of an instruction course called Belly Dancing: The Basics. Suffice it to say that although I did not actually take his advice literally, what I did do was enrol as a student at Alliance Française de Perth. I had always had the greatest admiration for people who seemed to be able to have a life outside politics as well as maintain the highest degree of commitment to their job. Jim McGinty was a fine example with his love of diving, and I am glad to hear that as part of their induction to this place, new MPs are advised to always make some time to take care of their own fitness and psychological wellbeing. Giving myself permission to cultivate a different part of my brain and live a little bit of life outside the professional realm was a watershed move and one that I seriously recommend you embrace if you value your sanity.

I had studied French at school, starting from the age of about seven, when I was part of an experimental class teaching children a second spoken language at a much younger age than was current practice at the time. When I was 10 years old, my father took me and my first brother across the English Channel to Dieppe for a week. I will never forget my unmitigated joy at being there. It was like switching the picture from black and white to colour. I have never lost that feeling of wonder and fascination for France and the French. So, I started the placement test on the alliance website, got no further than je m'appelle Sally, and enrolled in a beginners class. The years since have brought me enormous pleasure and a great sense of achievement, which just about offsets the most incredible amount of stress I took on when I was one of a group of overachievers who decided to torture ourselves by taking DELF exams. Best of all, I have made some fantastic friends, some of whom are here this afternoon. Thank you, Sue Burchill and Jane Crisford, for providing the islands of sanity over the years. I am looking forward to keeping our friendships going as my islands get a bit bigger post parliamentary life.

There was one last highlight of that period. I mentioned Paul Murray earlier in a context that some may have seen as not entirely flattering, so let me now say that I became a devoted fan for nearly the whole week after his Saturday column exposed the extraordinary attack mounted on the RSPCA in 2015 by some former members of this chamber. As the only Labor member of the 2015 select committee chaired by the Shooters and Fishers before they found the farmers, I happily joined with WA Greens member Lynn MacLaren to publish a lengthy minority report on the issues considered by the inquiry. This is how Paul Murray described the exercise:

In a long career of following parliamentary inquiries, I’ve never seen a minority report that so categorically collapses the foundation of the majority report as that written by Labor’s Sally Talbot and the Greens’ Lynn MacLaren.

The minority report dissented from all but 12 of the 56 findings and seven of the 26 recommendations while also providing a robust defence of the organisation’s operations — from the same evidence.

They left committee chairman Ricky Mazza from the Shooters and Fishers and fellow majority members, the Nationals’ Paul Brown and Liberal Nigel Hallett, all representing significant farm interests, holding a wether when they wanted a ram.

That, I think it is fair to say, felt like a job well done!

The year 2017 finally brought the outcome that had at times seemed so remote during those long years in opposition. I will never forget those first moments when the booth results in Collie–Preston started coming in. I got quite grumpy with the first scrutineer who called me with numbers for Labor and gave us 57% of the vote, assuming that he had done some kind of fancy maths to project a two-candidate-preferred figure. When the next half-dozen booths confirmed that we were actually winning on the primary vote, our greatest challenge was to convince Mick that he could come out of the bunker into which memories of 2001 and his 34-vote win always forced him on election night.

What opportunities now opened up to us as we contemplated that first term in government. Very soon after the election, a group of us started working to respond to the strong wishes of the Western Australian community to have voluntary assisted dying in our state.

Whenever I talk about those early days of the debate, I always start with the story of one of the information sessions we ran during the inquiry period, which was led by a North American medical practitioner who had been involved in the practice of assisted dying for many years. These sessions were an important part of demonstrating to the wider community of lawmakers, many of whom had yet to arrive at a conclusion about expanding end-of-life choices, that introducing assisted dying would not eventuate in the sky falling in. This man opened his remarks with the observation that it is an indisputable fact of history that 100% of people who have ever lived have also died. It was a brilliant way of diffusing the tension in the room, but, even more importantly for me, he summed up what we were trying to do with this new law, because what was at stake for all of us who were driving the debate was not whether we should allow someone to choose between life and death, but whether we should allow someone who is dying to choose how and when they die.

I will never forget the magnificent support we got every inch of the way from Roger Cook in his role as health minister. Amber-Jade Sanderson chaired the select committee with a steely determination that really should be recorded for training and coaching purposes. Her role did not stop with the conclusion of the inquiry, and there should be no doubt in anyone’s mind that the robust nature of the law that passed the Parliament at the end of 2019 is owed largely to her.

However, we were not the heroes of that story. What shines out for me is the testimony we heard from people like Noreen Fynn, whose partner, Clive Deverall, knew that by dying on election day 2017 and leaving a note saying “suicide is legal, euthanasia is not”, he could at least ensure that we started having a serious conversation. William Philip told us about how, after his dying wife swallowed all the opiates she had been prescribed for a serious back injury, they lay down together to wait. Four days later he called the ambulance, unable to bear the distressing condition of his wife after four days of unconsciousness had not ended in her death. Belinda Tay ensured that her mother's excruciating death after many weeks of terrible suffering might finally count for something when she walked from Melbourne to Perth to highlight the reality of what palliative care specialists call the nightmare cases whereby pain cannot be mitigated.

The time I spent serving as a member of the voluntary assisted dying implementation leadership team and most recently as a member of the voluntary assisted dying statutory review panel stands out for me as a contribution worth making. I spent time in England and Scotland at the end of last year working with advocacy groups on the legislation under consideration in those jurisdictions. The dedication and energy of proponents of VAD never cease to inspire me, and I look forward to seeing governments into the future ensuring that adequate resources and support are available to the many teams and individuals working as VAD providers in this state.

Another issue to which I have devoted a great deal of energy since WA Labor has been in office is that of assisted reproductive technology and surrogacy. Bringing our state's legislation into the 21st century has been a mammoth task. I am not proud, nor should any member of this Parliament be proud, of the fact that WA is the only state to remain noncompliant with Commonwealth sex discrimination and equal opportunity laws. The work of the ministerial expert panel, of which I was a member, clearly shows the way forward, and I join my friend and colleague Hon Peter Foster in hoping that legislation to remedy this situation will be coming into this Parliament before too long.

Putting together legislation that is clear, inclusive and solidly evidence based is well within the wit of this place and I urge anyone who is not certain that these changes should be made to actually listen to people's accounts of their lived experience and what is needed to ensure the continued wellbeing and security of children, partners and wider families.

President, that pretty much brings me to the present day, so let me end with a few comments about what the next 20 years might look like.

The two elections we had this year have given the Labor Party both in this state and nationally an opportunity to establish, for at least the first half of the 21st century, a foundation on which to embed the values we stand for. I have expressed those values in terms of being stronger together, transforming threats into opportunities and empowering people by helping them make sense of a changing world. We all have a slightly different way of talking about what we believe in and what matters to us, but the important thing is that our values have to be more than slogans on a T-shirt. We have to live and breathe them and, perhaps most importantly, recognise others with whom we have enough in common to band together. In that regard, I say confidently that WA Labor could not be in better hands than we are with Roger Cook as our leader. Roger and I have known each other for 30 years. At one stage, we were trying to knock each other off to become state secretary. Neither of us had a hope, and both of us had the sense to withdraw from the contest. I have always counted Roger as a friend as well as a comrade. I think it is fair to say that as the Western Australian Minister for Health, he was the unsung hero of the COVID period, and I have nothing but admiration for the way he bore the terrible stresses of those years and emerged smiling at the end of it. In winning so convincingly in March this year, he has reminded us that being open about and staying true to one’s values is one of the most vital elements of leadership, and he is well on the way to establishing himself as one of the great Labor leaders of our time.

I said earlier that I love the Labor Party, but the Labor Party is nothing more than the people who come together as the Labor Party—who put into practice every day the belief that we are stronger together. It is the webs of connection we constantly weave amongst ourselves that end up sustaining our energy and commitment to the cause. There is nothing soppy about this. I am not on the "All You Need is Love" bandwagon. I have been a spear chucker most of my life and I have been proud to be a warrior for the causes my union—the Australian Manufacturing Workers' Union—has fought for under the leadership of first Jock Ferguson and then Steve McCartney. I have enough scars, and so have the people at the other end of the spears, to illustrate Kołakowski's point that being an activist is neither fun nor easy. But the Labor Party is more than the sum of its parts. It is our rank and file members like Faye Slavin, Bill Hamlett, Renee Chapel, Lynne and Louis Waun and Marjorie Shier who plug away every year, keeping the red flag flying. Louis’s death just last week is a great and sad loss and I send our love to Lynne. I think our beloved Roy Scaife would still be proud of our Australind branch, even though his son depleted our numbers by defecting to Cockburn.

It is the Labor Party that frames our shining stars like Ellie Whiteaker, who is about to begin yet another brilliant career as a senator. It is the Labor Party that provides the motive force for generations of younger activists with whom it has been my privilege to work. Claire Comrie, Ashley Buck, Andy Skinner, Tom Palmer and Louise Holding—you will always be Durack to me!—top the list, but it is a very long list and includes everyone I worked with recently on the magnificently successful campaign to hold Scarborough, as well as truly inspiring people like Renee Portland and Darcy Gunning at the AMWU. Of course, there is also our ace warrior, Louise Pratt, and David Scaife, whose eye for injustice is unparalleled and whose exceptional talents will see him rise to whatever challenge he sets himself.

Apart from the fact that I am about to get on a plane to France, the thing that makes it particularly painless to farewell my parliamentary life is that Katrina Stratton will effectively be taking my place. After we overcame the shock of finding the member for Nedlands in our Labor caucus after the 2021 election, we realised that we had done something quite unusual in choosing a candidate for a presumed unwinnable seat who was actually a remarkably gifted political operator and, perhaps even more surprisingly, an outstandingly good human being. She was most definitely a keeper. She passed the initial replacement screening tests of course; she has a PhD and she is a tea drinker. Over the next few years following the election, she has proved herself to be another true Labor warrior, and I know she will make her mark on this place with her brand of progressive activism.

There are several other people, either here today or watching online, who have helped hold the last 20 years together for me. As someone who was born in the other hemisphere, I have a found family here in WA. Illya and Susan Cenin have laughed and cried with me for more than 35 years. The friendship of you and your whole marvellous family is one of the joys of my life. Gill Lowe is my oldest friend in both senses of the word. I said in my inaugural speech that Gill was the person who constantly stripped me of any airs and graces I tried to acquire. I reckon she has done a reasonable job, and for my part I never ever tire of our long tea-fuelled conversations. Paddi Creevy, you have always been an inspiration to me with your inexhaustible energy and optimism, and your genuine love of humankind. Gerri Garland and Steph Mutch, thank you for being there through thick and thin. We have nearly been neighbours so many times over the last 30 years, but just remember we are only 400 kilometres down the road.

I feel extraordinarily lucky to have had so many people in my life about whom I could ask myself at the many stressful moments that beset political life: What would so-and-so do? Perhaps the biggest single influence in shaping my direction since I was her student in the 1980s has been Patsy Hallen. I do not know whether she remembers me asking whether combining politics and philosophy would be a sustainable life choice or whether they would cancel each other out so that I was left with nothing. Even if she has, I have never forgotten her answer. She told me that whatever I chose, I must not stop trying to change the world. I will never ask you to grade my attempt, Patsy, but thank you for being here today.

I must also mention the great teams I have worked with in my electorate office over the years. As well as those I have mentioned already, I would like to say a special thankyou to the people who saw out all or part of the last term with me: Allison Sawyer, Tom Wulff, Bronwyn English and especially the irreplaceable and undauntable Louise Knox, who was my longest serving team member.

One last word about the challenges that we all, inside and outside Parliaments, must continue to meet. The things that we as progressive activists value are, I believe, enshrined in our institutions—in our Parliaments, our courts, our justice system, our places of worship and learning, and our economic structures. But as we can see with the unravelling of American decency, it turns out that our institutions are only as robust as those who would defend them. As one American writer observed recently, our institutions are not in fact so mighty; they are vulnerable to anyone not in awe of them and not wanting the respect of them, and to anyone willing to upend their processes. My fear is that we are losing the art of telling the story that cultivates that awe. We must never forget that our opponents, those who are happy to hitch their wagon to the practice of what Ezra Klein calls the politics of public cruelty, will wantonly fuel the fires of uncertainty to breed suspense and anxiety. Those of you who know The Screwtape Letters might recall CS Lewis's point about how suspense and anxiety barricade the mind so that people become obsessed not with what they do but with what will happen to them. If you are worried about what will happen to you, you will fritter away the energy you need to make civic life worth living. Focus instead on what you do, and your obstinate will to erode by inches the conditions that produce avoidable suffering will thrive and flourish.

To all my colleagues who are joining me in leaving this place, I wish you the very best. To those who are continuing or being sworn in for the first time on Thursday, I urge you to think always about what you do and not what might happen to you as you pursue the task of working for those who need us to succeed. To the entire community that makes up the complicated world of the Parliament of Western Australia, I say thank you for your support and assistance over the years.

To my beloved son, David Talbot, I say thank you for your love and company over the last 38 years. You have taught me most of what I know about life, and I am joyful as well as proud to be your mother. To my darling husband, Jon Ford, I can only say that if we have half as much fun over the next 25 years as we had in the last, our life together post Parliament will be full to bursting with happiness. Someone asked me recently whether, as an activist, it was better to marry someone completely outside of politics or completely inside. I said that the only thing of which I was sure was that it helps if you love each other. On that score, I cannot wait for the next chapter to begin. Thank you, President.

(Applause.)

Debate adjourned until a later stage of the sitting, on motion by Hon Peter Foster.

The President: Members, before we proceed to the next order of business, we will just give the chamber an opportunity to settle and members an opportunity to wish the honourable member all the best.