CONDOLENCES

Senator WONG (South Australia—Minister for Foreign Affairs and Leader of the Government in the Senate) (15:35): by leave—I move: That the Senate records its sadness at the death, on 13 April 2026, of Trish Crossin AM, former senator for the Northern Territory, places on record its gratitude for her service to the Parliament and the nation, and tenders its sympathy to her family in their bereavement.

Nhamirr bukmak? Manymak walnga nganapurr nhinan ngarra ga gurrutumirr ngarrak, ngunhal Yirrkala wangangur. Yolngu walal ngarrak djaka, ga gurrutu gathar ngarrak ga marnggikungal ngarran Yolngu Romgu.

Buku—wekan mhuma, wanga—watangun Yolngun, nhe ngarrak, djaka. Those were the first Indigenous language words in a speech in the Australian parliament, and they were spoken on this very day in 1998, and today we honour the woman who said them. Twenty-eight years ago, in her first speech to the Senate, Trish Crossin was saying to the traditional owners, 'Thank you for welcoming my family and me, for allowing us to live on your land and for the opportunity to understand your culture.' With characteristic boldness and authenticity, Senator Crossin set the tone for her 15-year contribution and set the tone for many others to come, not least with her personal apology on that day to the stolen generations.

And what followed was 15 years of persistent, determined, compassionate and courageous advocacy for a better, more respectful, more just and more modern Australia. How lucky we were to have her. I want to express my personal condolences and those from all on this side of the chamber to Mark, Paul, Melinda, Amanda and Kate and to all of her grandchildren, as well as other family, friends and parliamentary colleagues—to all who knew and loved Trish.

Trish was many things—a working mother, later a grandmother; a proud feminist; a stalwart unionist; a committed practitioner of reconciliation; a believer that ceilings were made to be broken, not least by becoming the Northern Territory's first female member of federal parliament. And what a formidable senator she was. Trish's life tells a story of deep devotion to the people she loved and the causes she championed.

From the streets of Kensington, Melbourne, where she grew up, to Yirrkala in East Arnhem Land, where she first taught, wherever she went, Trish's first thought was to help those around her. Someone needed help. Something needed fixing.

It didn't matter what it was or where you came from, Trish would show up. In 1956, Clare and Albert Borlase were convinced they were going to have a baby boy, due around St Patrick's Day, and thus they were primed to name him Patrick. But on 21 March, in her first act of defiance, she was born a girl.

Still the name more or less stuck. But Trish didn't like being called Patricia much and even less Pat. So Trish or Trisha was how she continued.

Growing up in Kensington, her youth exposed her to what she described in her first speech as a 'rich, multicultural, working-class community', and she credited this setting with imbuing in her the spirit of social justice and fairness she would come to embody throughout her life. It was in these early years that Trisha's gift to connect deeply with any community she found herself in was first nurtured.

She played organ in her local Catholic parish at mass, weddings and funerals, forever part of the rites of her neighbours. And, as a young adult, she earned a diploma of teaching at Mercy College and her bachelor's in education from Deakin University. She knew early on the power of an education.

At 13, Trish met Mark and, soon after, announced her intention to marry him. Eventually she did and soon found herself on a new adventure with him, moving to a remote community in the Northern Territory where they would both teach. At 24, Trish took up a post teaching in Yirrkala, and there she fell in love with the community and the local language of the Yolngu people, Gumatj.

She recognised the opportunities afforded to children if they were allowed to be educated in a bilingual environment. Her experience teaching in remote communities, along with Mark's influence, drove Trish to join the Labor Party, to get involved in her trade union and to eventually become an industrial officer at the NTEU. Trish Crossin was never there to occupy the space.

We see this throughout her life, including at the union. She had seen firsthand the change she could make to students' and educators' lives if she worked for it, and she fought successfully for the pay and conditions of Indigenous teachers to match those of non-Indigenous teachers under the award. It is no surprise that her tenure as union secretary from 1996 to 1998 was marked by a rapid growth in membership.

In Darwin, she also helped establish the NT Working Women's Centre and was central to unearthing a shocking case of migrant worker exploitation, where workers were paid roughly 75c an hour and faced threats to their families. In 1998, Trish won support to fill a casual vacancy in the Senate. As I said at the outset, today is the anniversary of her groundbreaking first speech.

As well as thanking the Yolngu people and apologising to the stolen generations, the first commitment Senator Crossin gave in this place was to the Yolngu to work hard to represent them and to continue to respect and acknowledge their rights. Trish Crossin never shied away from saying what she thought, and she famously earned the ire of then senator Vanstone for being controversial in her first speech.

Given how polemical Senator Vanstone was willing to be, it seems like Trish might have struck a nerve. She said: As a Territory senator, I will continue to promote the benefits of a tolerant, multicultural Australia. … We must continue to strive for a country that is built upon the foundations of unity rather than division … Trish might have been responding to the politics of her day, but they are words that resonate today.

Trish Crossin also brought to this place her lived experience as a working mum, and she fought consistently and continuously for the importance of child care to be recognised by this parliament. In that prescient first speech, she observed that this building housed no childcare facilities for people like her, a deficit it would take over a decade and a Labor government to correct.

You see, child care in Parliament House might now seem obvious, but it was not seen that way. As a result of efforts by Trish and others, along with Labor's affirmative action policies, we now have a parliament that far better reflects our society. Over the years, Trish Crossin was a member of more select, standing and statutory committees than you could count, and she understood that the concentrated work of Senate committees could help achieve generational change, be it in education, employment and workplace relations, where she drew from her time both as a teacher and as a union official, or as chair of the legal and constitutional affairs committee, where she led a 2008 review into the Sex Discrimination Act, which amongst other reforms saw the inclusion of protections for breastfeeding mothers.

In a speech after the 2010 election, Trish remarked on another occasion in which she crossed paths with history, saying: 'Last night I was calculating with Kate, my 14-year-old. After 4,486 days, as of today, I'm now the longest-serving senator from the Territory.' Two years later, Trish again took up the fight for others, introducing the Marriage Amendment Bill (No. 2) 2012 into the Senate.

She made the case for marriage equality, something that is today accepted as given, and spoke to the heart of Australian values. In her second reading speech, Trish said: Australians do not tolerate discrimination based on race or religion or ethnicity or sexuality. And still we have Commonwealth law … that in its very meaning entrenches discrimination.

She went on to say: But almost equal is not equal. Discrimination based on sexuality is still discrimination. As was Trish's way, she saw her actions as a duty to right a wrong she saw, and her support meant a great deal to me personally.

Trish's work was neither limited to nor bound by the confines of Canberra, and, though she spent countless days here in this building, her heart and her thoughts always remained in the Territory and with Territorians, and she was known to welcome anybody into her electorate office, regardless of the issues they may be having. Whether they needed help navigating government services or, in one moving case, were a single father struggling to help his daughter through the changes of adolescence, her attitude was that, if someone needed your help, you showed up and you stuck with them.

For Trish, that often meant reminding her colleagues across this chamber about the unique challenges faced by rural, remote and Indigenous Australians. Trish Crossin gave her valedictory to this chamber on 18 June 2013, and she gave her thanks to almost everyone in the building, including the clerks, whom she knew all by name, and the men and women of Parliamentary Services, the library, Broadcasting, Hansard and beyond.

It's a reflection of 15 years she spent in this Parliament House, and she warmed this Parliament House, and it is a reflection of the many deep relationships she built throughout her time here—relationships which extended across the political divide. She spoke warmly of Senator Nigel Scullion, her fellow senator from the Territory for over a decade, and she also retained her belief in working constructively across political divides with members and senators that she knew to hold convictions as earnest as her own.

Trish knew the best solutions to our biggest challenges came from a willingness to engage eye to eye and to learn from the experiences of others, no matter where they came from, and Trish Crossin ended her time in this place just as she began. From her first speech to her last, Trish's deeply felt dedication to First Nations justice and equality permeated her parliamentary service, and, after 15 years, hundreds of sitting days, thousands of divisions and countless committee hearings, Trish used her closing words to once again thank the Yolngu people and once again in the Gumatj language.

For Trish Crossin, being a senator was neither the beginning nor the end, and her commitment to reconciliation and to Indigenous Australians and her drive to empower other women stretched from her time as a teacher in a remote school to post-parliamentary life and all throughout. She served as a director on the Indigenous Land and Sea Corporation, where she always ensured the community's voice was heard.

She worked with Gender Equity Victoria and she chaired the Gordon TAFE in Geelong—roles she used to continue her lifelong ambition of expanding educational opportunity. In the time since Trish's passing, as well as reflections on her remarkable contribution, there have been reflections on the profound pride and deep love she had in and for her family. She always said Mark was her best friend and greatest support, and, of Paul, Mel, Mandy and Kate, Trish sang endless praise.

Senators would know I have the great fortune of coming to know one of Trish's kids well. Kate works in my office, and she's known to many of you. As Kate's sister Mel said at Trish's funeral, 'Nothing made her prouder than tuning into the Senate during a late night sitting and watching you working away in the advisers' box.' Kate, take comfort and strength from the pride in you she had and her love for you.

From wherever she is watching, I know that, like me, she can't wait to see where your extraordinary talent and commitment take you. On the issues that animated Trish, there is more work to do, not least the acute challenges in addressing Indigenous disadvantage. Trish's dream of this country, Trish's dream of Australia, never centred on why we couldn't do something or why it was too difficult.

Instead, I think it's better encapsulated by what she said, with typical gumption, whilst marriage equality was still being debated: 'Let's get over it and let's just do it.' I close by saying, to Mark, to Paul, to Mel, to Mandy and to Kate, to all of Trish's grandchildren, to her family and loved ones and to all who called her friend, accept my deepest condolences for the loss of a true comrade.

Farewell, Trish Crossin.