“To work hard, listen, care, and deliver for my constituents and the people of Australia.”
That’s the promise Alison Penfold – The Nationals’ Member for Lyne – has made in her maiden speech in the House of Representatives.
Her speech marked an historic milestone, as she became only the second woman from the NSW Nationals elected to the House of Representatives in Australian Parliament history. The first was Kay Hull AO – the Member for Riverina from 1998 to 2010.
Rather than focusing on her own journey, Ms Penfold used the opportunity to highlight the recent experiences of her electorate – particularly its resilience following the devastating May floods and its ongoing recovery.
“The physical scars are there for all to see… But what is less visible are the mental scars. Most people have tried to pick up the pieces of their lives. Got on with the clean-up. Got on with the rebuild. Got on with filling out the vast reams of paperwork for a few quid. But underneath is the loss, the shock and the question of ‘Can I ever go home?’
Ms Penfold also addressed the ongoing challenges facing flood-affected communities, noting that while Category D funding was eventually granted to primary producers, the same support has not been extended to small businesses.
“We needed governments and bureaucracy at their best. We are still waiting, still hoping, still fighting.
She outlined her vision for collaborative governance and the role she intends to play.
“My job in this Parliament will be to work constructively with the government so that together we can solve problems and provide the resources, services and infrastructure my communities need to improve living standards, to live with dignity, to grow, to be rich in spirit and diverse in activities.
Ms Penfold also used the occasion to call for urgent investment in local healthcare, urging the government to fund an Urgent Care Clinic in Taree; an election commitment she made which has yet to be matched by Labor, despite similar clinics being announced elsewhere.
“In good faith, under the umbrella of the Prime Minister’s commitment to govern for all, I ask for the government’s goodwill to work with me to deliver one in Taree and help improve the health outcomes of the people of the Manning Valley.
In addition to local concerns, Ms Penfold addressed a broad range of national and regional challenges – including energy production, climate policy, national defence, immigration, and the broader direction of the country.
“At a time of such regional and global geopolitical instability, Australia can ill afford to lose its way. We must change course. We must step up. This place must lead.”
Ms Penfold paid tribute to her predecessor, the Hon. Dr David Gillespie, acknowledging his many contributions to the electorate, including more than $1 billion in regional health initiatives.
Acknowledging the significance of her role and the responsibility it entails, she remarked: “Today I stand before you and this Parliament as just an ordinary woman trying to do an extraordinary job with an extraordinary privilege for my community and for our nation.
Bringing her speech to a close, she left no doubt about her intent.
“With that, let’s get cracking!
Alison’s speech in full
‘She was there for me, there for us. She always had our back; she was never backward in fighting for us. She made a difference much larger than one single voice, one single person, could hope to achieve. She put service before self.’
I know that standing here today, you may find it odd that I speak of myself in the past tense, to speak of legacy as the member for Lyne and as a parliamentarian. But I wish to start my first speech as I wish to end my time in this place. To do so represents my mission and my compact with the people of the Lyne electorate: to work hard, listen, care and deliver for my constituents and the people of Australia. It’s a simple motivator, but it’s deeply rooted.
It’s the legacy of a working-class family, the legacy of my upbringing: grandparents who were in domestic service and parents whose retail small business—Ron’s Market Truck—served people at markets across Western Sydney, in Fairfield, Mount Druitt, Penrith, Menangle, and then Taree for many years. They were spruiking off the back of a truck everything from the latest toys to towels, figurines, fireworks and items that most people could not afford to buy elsewhere. ‘Knock a bit off, Ronnie,’ the crowd would call—and he did. This is where I spent my weekends as a child, and where I saw the raw, hard work of a seven-days-a-week small business operator. This raw, hard work, risk-taking and sacrifice for family must never be forgotten in this place. It’s why, in part, I’m here—to honour and protect them and ensure that the only decisions government takes are to ensure small business thrives.
Mr Speaker, I stand before you and this parliament as just an ordinary woman trying to do an extraordinary job with an extraordinary privilege for my community and for our nation. It’s a job that stands on the shoulders of those members of parliament who too have served as members for Lyne—Gillespie, Oakeshott, Vaile, Cowan, Lucock and Eggins. Each of them made significant contributions to this place and to the electorate of Lyne. I am fortunate to have known four of the previous members and to have worked for two of them.
Mark Vaile was a deputy prime minister, delivering our free trade agreement with the United States—one that must endure—and the Pacific Highway duplication for the electorate. Dr David Gillespie was a minister, delivering over $1 billion in regional health initiatives, and the father and chairman of our future civil nuclear program and the father of the Taree Universities Campus, amongst many electorate achievements. I hope to serve as they did, with great honour, distinction and grace. I thank them for their friendship, guidance and trust over the many years I have known each of them.
It’s wonderful to have David and Charlotte here today. They, too, have seen the devastation on our communities that nature can bring. They know that Lyne is very much an electorate cemented in the courage and tenacity of Australians and of regional people. It’s an area on the Mid North Coast and Hunter regions of New South Wales and the ancestral home to the Biripi, Worimi and Wonnarua peoples. We now share in the stewardship of a land long lived. It’s an electorate stretching from the Hastings to the Hunter, covering coast and country. The electorate covers some of the earliest areas of regional settlement, places like Paterson, where my own Penfold ancestors migrated to as farm labourers in the 1830s. That settlement continues today as tree changers and sea changers exit the big smoke to find their dreams of a beach oasis or farm life.
Farming, dairy, beef, oyster and timber industries remain valued economic drivers with the many family-run small businesses. This is a place that has hosted heavy industry and manufacturing businesses migrating from the cities. It’s a region that still has much physical and human capital to offer. Rivers have long been the lifeblood of this area. They have brought fertile soils, trade, settlement, families and livelihoods. We know the power of them, and this has helped forge the courage and tenacity to make homes and build businesses that could withstand flood and also fire.
But no-one could have anticipated the flood of this May, a one-in-500-year catastrophic event. Off the back of months of rain, the ground was saturated. It was just four years from our last major flood. I cannot do justice to it or its full impact. To be honest, I find what occurred very difficult to talk about, to relive the days during the flood and after the waters receded—stuck at home in safety but unable to physically reach people desperate for help. There were the images on our screens and the screams for aid by phone, email and private message.
The first chance to provide help was in Coopernook. My car engine was smoking through the floodwaters, but I was desperate to bring milk, bread and other staples to the local hall, where 60-plus people were bunkered down, isolated, many evacuated from their nearby farms. It was there that I heard of the first death in the floodwaters, only the morning after. The loss of a loved local was felt painfully but quietly through the town. As the first roads opened after the waters receded, what presented was metres of mud through everything and the house-high piles of timber, round bales and other debris that littered and still linger on the landscape. There were the stories of survival, of having to leave people, pets and possessions behind. There was the bravery of modest souls who went into the floodwaters to save others. There was the look of despair, of fragility and of losing everything in people’s eyes.
There was the anger and the fear when the government support did not come. The fight goes on for fairness, recognition and hope. Like many others, I tried to help, with my hands and my heart the only tools to turn back the tide of destruction in those early days. But my resolve was strengthened. I was where I was needed and needed to be.
The physical scars are there for all to see: river banks changed forever, Wingham Brush gone, roads and bridges destroyed, towns and communities divided, acres of paddocks washed away, paddocks with a mirage of green, winter feed flattened, paddocks emptied of cattle or turf, empty shops that will likely never be home to a small business again, and homes now emptied of the lives they once loved.
Less visitable are the mental scars. Most people have tried to pick up the pieces of their lives. They’ve got on with the clean-up, got on with the rebuild, got on with filling out the vast reams of paperwork for a few quid, got on with finding somewhere to live, got on with going back to work and got on with life. But underneath is the loss, the shock, the grief, the uncertainty, the despair, the fear, the emotional triggers of hearing cows bellowing in the night, the mere threat of rain and the question, ‘Can I ever go home?’ These emotional scars are the scars that scare me the most. I’m scared of how people are coping and for the many that are not—if and when they’ll ever seek support from a professional, a mate, a family member or from me.
When the Prime Minister, the Premier and other ministers came to Taree in the aftermath of the floods, I said to them that our area needed two things from government: information and presence. It needed presence in the form of boots, not suits. It needed a long-term presence in the form of generous and easy-to-access support and it needed the presence of mind to break the cycle of red tape that haunts the traumatised seeking help after disaster. Our area needed information from government about the process for making decisions about assistance. It needed information about when and how funding amounts and eligibility would be determined. And it needed government to listen to what the community needed, to hear our information so that government could make good decisions. I was deliberate in this ask, knowing that the mental toll could be moderated if people knew that support was coming; if they knew that governments were working to provide them with the assistance that was needed without red tape attached; and if they knew that governments cared.
My greatest frustration is that this call has largely gone unheeded. The anger that has been felt amongst the community has come from the silence, the slowness and the mountain of bureaucracy. It’s come from the weeks of silence waiting for cat. D funding for primary producers and now the additional weeks waiting on additional funding for small business, funding for the rebuilding and funding for the betterment of community infrastructure like the Bight and Tiri bridges. It’s come from the weeks of not having somewhere to live, for themselves or their farm workers. And it’s come because of the bureaucracy. Too many people and businesses have been denied support. They’ve not had enough paperwork, they’ve not been enough of a primary producer, or they’re living in an area bureaucrats say isn’t affected enough, places like Barrington. Some have not been the right type of not-for-profit, like Taree Universities Campus and the Taree Aquatic Club, both unable to receive any support yet smashed by the floodwaters. Then there are the farmers desperate to stabilise river and creek banks but wading through multiple state government agencies for approval with no start or end point.
It is unsurprising that so many local people feel it is easier to get government assistance if you’re a foreigner than it is if you’re an Australian. On the weekend, I spoke with a small-business operator from Taree. Her premises in Pulteney Street were completely inundated. She is now in a battle with her insurer, months later and still waiting. She can’t apply for any of the government assistance until she gets a decision from the insurer, and the government’s application timeframe is coming to an end soon. This is a strong woman who has been almost broken by a process that is meant to support her. The waiting, the silence and the bureaucracy have only compounded the mental toll, compounded the feeling of being forgotten, compounded the anger and frustration in government, and compounded the fear about the future.
We needed governments and bureaucracies at their best. We’re still waiting and we’re still hoping, but we’re still fighting. We needed media at its best, too. I thank our local journalists and the many others from around the country, who respected us, helped the nation see the destruction and called it to action with donations. Please don’t forget about us. We have a long, long way to go.
I wish to dedicate this speech to all those impacted by the floods and to all the amazing volunteers who, after the waters receded, went from stranger to family in an instant by just turning up and saying, ‘Mate, how can I help?’ These were not just our well-trained legends in familiar uniforms—the SES, Fire and Rescue, police, Rural Fire Service or the many familiar local organisations, like church groups, service and community organisations Rotary and Lions or sporting clubs, like the Forster Tuncurry Hawks junior rugby league team, who I worked with to help clean out the mud-logged Sailo’s, or members of the Wingham Tigers footy team, who I met cleaning out a shed in Primrose Street in Wingham—but also the incredibly generous, spontaneous and selfless locals and people from afar. These were everyday citizens doing the extraordinary for others.
I acknowledge people like Josh Hack, Tim Bale and Anthony and Matt Stone for their fierce advocacy for farmers. The Stone brothers, oysters farmers on the Manning River, battled the floodwaters to save many people from their homes, yet have had to battle bureaucracy for Cat D assistance despite losing almost all their oyster stock, and their retail business being inundated and shut down for months. I also acknowledge Matthew Fawcett, who is here today, President of the Taree Chamber of Commerce, for his leadership for local small businesses and the many others that have joined him in the cause. Not only do we need Cat D funding for small business but also need a Taree CBD revitalisation package, including commercial building buybacks in the worst affected area of Pulteney Street.
The flood recovery and rebuild will be a key focus of my time and energy, but I know my voice and that of this parliament and government is needed on so many other local issues: on roads and bridges and telecommunications, housing and health, community infrastructure, aged and disability care, and industry and jobs to name a few.
We are not a wealthy electorate. We are older and poorer than most. Our major employers were lost to bean counters chasing cheap labour offshore. Bureaucracy and the digital world is too often a maze for so many locals that forever needs unscrambling. Our councils are battered by ageing infrastructure and the unfairness of the financial assistance grants formula.
When we as Nationals call for more funding, more programs and more support from government for our electorates, it’s because our communities need it to survive, to thrive, to get a fair go. So my job in this parliament will be to work constructively with the government so that together we can solve problems like ensuring the Dungog Shire Community Centre is properly funded by Services Australia to continue to its important Centrelink service delivery and provide the resources, other services and infrastructure my communities need to improve living standards, to live with dignity, to grow, to be rich in spirit and diverse in activities.
Today I wish to start with one request, one that aligns with the government’s own priorities. Taree desperately needs an urgent care clinic. This was a commitment I made at the election—one left unmatched by Labor, despite the many clinics it committed to other in seats. It is an initiative the government has heralded, an initiative that does not exist between Coffs Harbour and Newcastle. It is a gaping hole in the network. In good faith, under the umbrella of the Prime Minister’s commitment to govern for all, I ask for the government’s goodwill to work with me to deliver one in Taree and help improve the health outcomes of the people of Manning Valley. This is my first ask but far from my last.
I’m immensely honoured to be put to work for them by the people of the Lyne electorate, to represent a part of Australia where I grew up, the beautiful Harrington and Hannam Vale, where I went to school at St Clare’s High School in Taree and call home the timber town of Wauchope, and all the towns and villages that live proud in this part of the Mid North Coast and Hunter. I thank the people of Lyne from the bottom of my heart for this tremendous honour, and, through my election by them, to be put to work by the people of Australia to contribute to the building our nation.
While our democracy is robust our nation is not. Our productivity is weak, the cost of living is crippling families, pensioners and businesses; immigration and government spending is out of control; our military capabilities mismatch to the threats to our shore; our foreign policy too often sounds like it was written in the uni bar; and our country is divided—one confused with three flags, not proudly one.
We are pursuing a European energy policy at great cost to our nation, economically, environmentally and socially, with no return on addressing climate change. This policy is only making us weaker and poorer—weaker because we’re building a fragile energy grid, not a resilient and powerful one, and poorer because we’ve lost our comparative advantage in energy. The more that renewables have come on the market, the higher energy prices have become for all Australians, hurting our poorest and most vulnerable the most.
I’m no climate change denier. Like many Australians, I’m just a climate change realist. For millennia, we as humans have faced the impact of the complex natural system of our climate. Our understanding of our impact on it has matured and, with that, so has the issue matured in our social and political psyche. It is for Australia to be part of the global response, but, as a realist, I accept that we humans cannot fully control carbon and its impact on our climate, nor can Australia disproportionately bear the cost of the net zero global response. It is regional Australia that is bearing the full cost—bearing all of the risks of the transition and none of the benefits. This government is asking renewables to do the heavy lifting they simply weren’t designed to do, and we are asking Australians to pay the price for it. Just ask the people of Hawks Nest in my electorate, staring down at an offshore industrial wind farm in the pristine waters off Port Stephens. Government has a huge responsibility to get this policy right, a policy that should try to mitigate what we can, sensibly, reasonably and proportionately, and adapt to what we can’t. But, critically, it must be a policy that puts Australians first and that gives current and future generations the same economic liberties to increase their standard of living.
What I see and fear now is an Australia where the pluckiness and pragmatism of our forefathers has vanished, replaced with a state sanctioned retreat from the pursuit of real national wealth and prosperity, retreat from our history, retreat from our Christian values, retreat from common sense. We are going small and losing big. We are told disruption, now often the code for progressivism, is good for us. It’s got a social licence, we’re told—’Sign on; Australia will be better for it.’ But are we? Beyond our structural, economic and strategic decline, it’s clear our family and social structures are faltering. Our kids are spending on average nine hours a day in front of a computer or TV screen. Literacy and numeracy rates are falling. Our kids are learning to criticise rather than think critically. The narcissism permitted and projected through social media is ruining lives and destroying families. Domestic violence rates are rising. We are trying to deny human nature, teaching our kids that you can choose your gender any day of the week or be a furry in the classroom.
I’ve heard stories of young men and women choosing not to bring children into this world because of the fear of the world we’re becoming. At a time of such regional and global geopolitical instability, Australia can ill afford to lose its way. We must change course; we must step up. This place must lead. Where can we start? We must return to the values that have made Australia strong—those Christian values that so many of us have been raised on. If you don’t believe in something, you’ll fall for anything. We must reinvest in family and the family unit by pursuing policies that give families real choice in raising their children and help increase our natural birth rate. Income splitting is sensible, as is the concerted efforts of all tiers of government to genuinely address the housing crisis. Young Australians are locked into housing servitude and we should not be surprised that they are angry at us for it. This is not the great Australian dream they deserve.
We must address the social discord and the impact of identity politics, in particular on children. The reinstating of the biological definition of male and female into the Sex Discrimination Act is needed. Gender is simply not fluid, even if sexual orientation is. We must break the cycle of multigenerational welfare dependency so every child has an adult role model in their life that values a day’s work. We must get back to the basics on economic policy, efficient government and restraint from intergenerational economic theft, backing small business as the engine room of the economy and supporting policies that address Australia’s falling manufacturing complexity and subsequent growth prospects.
We must stop regulatory creep and overregulation, the thinking that government knows how to do business better, which is insidious and pervasive on small business and industry. I’m sick and tired of all tiers of government making laws and policies based on the emotion driven by activists that ban industries. It adds costs to business, stymies innovation and makes our exporters uncompetitive. In this frame, agriculture and farmers are too often the whipping boy for this government and the Left.
We must return to an immigration policy founded on ‘Team Australia’ not ‘hotel Australia’, one where our shared values matter—the basis of our multicultural success story. We must build an energy system that can support the energy needs of industry and an AI/data-hungry world. That requires lots and lots of energy density—base-load power, power that is on all the time, not just some of the time.
If this government was to truly consider our energy policy on a net benefit basis, they too would support zero emissions nuclear power, along with coal and gas, using existing technology to reduce emissions. Labor’s version of net zero and its pursuit of it is not the right pathway for Australia to a cleaner, greener and more prosperous future.
We must use military precision in our defence procurement to rebuild our defence capability. This is a dangerous time of greater power competition. The threats are real, and they are unconventional, but we are no longer equipped to fight the enemy at our door. Our defence personnel and our veterans deserve the equipment that matches their skill, discipline and dedication, whatever the price for the sacrifice they make and the security Australians deserve. The defence of our nation should be a subject of great pride to every Australian. Yet during the campaign, when I raised it at meet-the-candidate forums, those in the room supporting Labor, Greens and teal candidates sneered and scoffed. It was and is an outrageous response to the importance of the defence of our nation and the genuine security risk we face. It’s why government leadership matters.
I’m very proud to be here as a representative of the Nationals, a party I first came to support as a polling-booth volunteer in my teenage years. We are not a party of ideologues but of pragmatists who believe strongly in the values our nation was founded on. We believe in the wisdom of the bush—that new ways shouldn’t always usurp the old and that the regions should keep more of the nation’s wealth it generates. In this place we have always leveraged more than our numbers suggest, a record of achievement that is not done with yet.
That said, I am here as only the second woman from the New South Wales Nationals to be elected to the House of Representatives in the history of this parliament—a statement that should horrify and shock. I follow in the footsteps of the great Kay Hull, former member for Riverina, who stood in this place from 1998 to 2010, a warrior for the regions then and now. Kay always spoke her mind and spoke up for her people. She has been a wonderful role model and mentor to me, and I thank her for her genuine support.
I do not intend to use my time here as an evangelical warrior on female representation in politics. We as women should seek favour through a system that shines a light on the best talent in the room, but making sure women are in the room is still the great challenge. It is a challenge that requires genuine investment by our party membership and leadership, myself included.
I would like to thank the party members and supporters from across the Lyne electorate for putting their faith in me after the long career of their much-respected and loved former member Dr David Gillespie. Transitioning a seat is never an easy task or one with a certain outcome. There are so many to thank—too much to do justice to in this speech—but several certainly stand out: David Gillespie, Junerose Richardson, Rob Connell, Rosemary Chick, Vicki Hansen, Carolyn Fowler, Sally Halliday, and Kate and Steve Mansur—and Bill Jones, who lost part of his finger helping my dad make A-frames.
I would also like to thank the federal Nationals and New South Wales Nationals leadership: Kay Hull; federal director Lincoln Folo; current chairman of the New South Wales Nationals, the Hon. Rick Colless; former chairman Andrew Fraser; state director Tory Mencshelyi—my bestie—and the team at head office. Tory is a relentless campaigner, generous with her time and support and a smart head and steady hand. Your dad would be so immensely proud of you. All of the team were of tremendous assistance and support, and I extend my sincere gratitude to them. I have spent more than half of my professional life in this building, from my work experience with Mark Vaile in 1994 to my various roles as receptionist, whips clerk and adviser to chief of staff with the late Hon. Peter Reith, the Hon. Mark Vaile, the Hon. Warren Truss, the Hon. David Littleproud MP, the Hon. Kevin Hogan MP and the Hon. Dr David Gillespie.
I’ve had the great honour of working in government and opposition. I’ve seen government at its best and at its worst. I’ve seen the political cycles of the coalition and Labor come and go. I’ve learned so much from all of you, and thank you for the trust and opportunity you have given me.
I would also like to acknowledge Wendy Vaile, Lyn Truss, Charlotte Gillespie and Karen Hogan—all amazing women, patient and forgiving. I thank you for your friendship, support and understanding when my job interrupted your lives. I thank my many former work colleagues who, in some shape or form, have been part of this 30-plus year apprenticeship.
Too often, this place speaks cruelly of the staff of MPs and ministers. The work of politics attracts magnificent minds who make huge sacrifices to work quietly, patiently, empathetically and diligently to do good for this nation. There is no Public Service Medal for political and policy staff. The job is to walk in the shadows of the room—not to be nameless, just not to be named. To all of you who I’ve worked with over the years: I thank you for your camaraderie, your guidance and your common sense. I particularly want to pay tribute to some of them: Cheryl Cartwright and Kate Barwick—not only great friends but great campaigners too. I owe you both a huge debt of gratitude, and also to Andrew Hall, Candice Stower, Robert Nardella, Gerrie Van Dam, Jen Southwell, Bronwyn Morris, Lachie McComish and Philip Eliason.
Outside of parliament, I’ve shared in the privilege of working for business big and small. There’s been no greater challenge in my professional career than to take on the task of CEO of the live export industry just six months after the 2011 ban. I pay tribute to the two chairmen I worked under, Peter Kane and the late Hon. Simon Crean, and to Sam Brown, my CEO colleague at LiveCorp—all men of immense wisdom. I thank them for their courage and willingness to support me as I led the industry through significant change, including the development of a social licence strategy for the live export industry, the first of its kind of any agricultural industry sector at the time.
The fact that Labor has chosen to cruel the livelihoods of thousands of sheep producers rather than properly regulate just three live export companies is a travesty of justice, made harsher by the ongoing refusal to compensate live-cattle producers as the court has demanded.
I do not come from a big family. I am an only child and grew up, essentially, as an only grandchild. I will never have the privilege of being an aunt. I’m unmarried and childless by circumstance, not choice, so family has always been more than just blood relations. It’s about those people in your life that are always there, in good times and bad. To Tony and Vicki Hansen: you mean more to me than words can ever express. Thank you for your unwavering support, your love and generosity, and the beautiful gift of godmotherhood. To Andrew—here tonight—and Kate, and Ashlea and Tim; and their children, Lennox, Huxley, Buddy and my youngest goddaughter, Scout: I’m so proud of all of you and so grateful to call you family. Scout, I can’t wait to see your journey in life. Art, sport—whatever you decide—the world is yours.
During the campaign, I lost my beloved aunt Valerie, who died suddenly in her home on her 85th birthday. She was due to fly down to be part of the last week of the campaign. It is still hard to process this loss. My aunt was a larger-than-life individual, never truly bound by societal expectations. She was a traveller, artist, gourmet home chef, linguist, raconteur and armchair political commentator. I can only hope to be as bold and brave as her. I know she’s with her beloved husband—oh, wise one, Uncle Barry—willing me on in this challenge to question the status quo and never—never—take no for an answer.
My beautiful mum, Aileen, we lost to pancreatic cancer almost 12 years ago. You never get over the loss of a parent, and it’s hard to reconcile the passage of time with the memories that are so near. My mother was a woman ahead of her time. She had incredible strength and determination and a deep belief in fairness and justice. In another age, she would have been a member of parliament and a fierce one at that. I intend to bring her fierceness to this place to honour her memory.
Finally, to my dad, Ron, my man of resolve: you are my hero and my north star. You made huge sacrifices in your life so I didn’t have to make them in mine. I’m so proud of you. From poor beginnings, you have made such a rich life—customs officer, tug master, entrepreneur, farmer, motor home manufacturer and, above all, a man of honour, a man everyone should have as a mate and a best friend. I’m so pleased that you have found Maree and are trying to live your best life despite the fragility that hard work and age brings. Thank you for all you do and for your patience with me.
As I wind up my commentary here today, I say this to the people of the Lyne electorate and to all Australians. I intend to honour your faith, courage and determination to live your best lives by putting service to you before self. I can’t promise you the world you deserve, but I will guarantee I’ll have a go at delivering it. With that, let’s get cracking
