I was honoured and privileged to be seated next to my friend Rosie Batty AO at last week's April 3 National Press Club lunch in Canberra where Rosie was making her third appearance, on this occasion for the launch of her latest book, Hope.
Our friendship came about through the worst possible circumstances.
On 12 February 2014, Rosie’s only child, 11-year-old Luke, was murdered by his father, at cricket practice near his home in an outer suburb of Melbourne.
At the time I was chief executive officer of the National Australia Day Council (NADC) which, amongst other things, has responsibility each year for selecting the Australian of the Year.
On the morning after Luke’s death, I was working from my hotel room in Sydney and had the ABC-TV news channel on in the background (a lifetime habit as a news junky).
Thrust into the spotlight
Mid-morning, the news crossed live to an impromptu media conference outside Rosie’s home, where through many tears she gave the most powerful, gut-wrenching response that galvanised the nation and catapulted her from obscurity into the spotlight.
I still don’t know how Rosie summoned the courage to speak with such clarity and conviction so soon after Luke’s murder. Rosie called out the scourge of domestic violence in Australia, pointing out that it doesn’t discriminate. That it’s everywhere. Including within ‘comfortable’ middle-class homes like hers.
Rosie had the nation’s attention as she spoke; me included. From that day on, Rosie has campaigned tirelessly to protect women and children, almost single-handedly changing the conversation around domestic violence in this country. After being covered up, or ignored, it was finally on the national agenda.
The minute Rosie finished her brave, heart-breaking media conference, I called my wife and said, “I think I may have just seen the next Australian of the Year.”
How the awards were changing
Over the more than 50-year history of the Australian of the Year Awards, we’d honoured national military, sporting, musical and scientific heroes. But things were changing. Recognising that in the right hands Australia’s most prestigious national award could be used as a game-changer by presenting the recipient with a national platform to advocate for a better Australia, we’d decided to look beyond those ‘usual suspects’.
In early 2014, at the time Rosie rose to national prominence, AFL legend and anti-racism campaigner, Adam Goodes was only a few weeks into his term as our Australian of the Year.
In the weeks and months that followed Luke’s death, Rosie continued to speak publicly and passionately about the impact of domestic violence on the lives of so many thousands of Australians. By sharing her story and her pain, we finally began to understand the scale of the problem. We were in the grip of a national emergency and urgent action was needed.
Was Rosie ready for the award?
Rosie was duly nominated for the 2015 Australian of the Year and I recall our discussions during the lengthy selection process, firstly at the state level in Victoria and then nationally.
There was little doubt Rosie could be a worthy winner of the award but, as a grieving mum, was she ready for it? Would it be too much for her given the additional pressure it would place on her? We tried to weigh up, if given the award, whether it would be a good, or a bad thing for Rosie. Maybe the award could wait another year or two – or not?
Our first meeting
My first meeting with Rosie was in Melbourne on the evening she was named the Victorian Australian of the Year. I remember her hobbling to the stage in a moon boot after having recently had surgery for a foot injury.
The minute Rosie started her emotional acceptance speech, I knew, as challenging as it would be for her, that she did possess the strength and tenacity to cope with the national honour if she was ultimately selected by the NADC board. While I didn’t have a vote, I was able to share my view that if Rosie was ever to be bestowed the Australian of the Year honour, I believed this was her time. She’d already captured the nation’s attention about that unspeakable subject. How much more good could she do if she was recognised as our ‘top citizen’?
Sharing her pain
Rosie’s story was so painful. No parent should have suffered as she had suffered. But perhaps for the first time Australians were hearing from a survivor who laid it out bare and somehow summoned up the courage to share her story again and again in the hope it would wake up the community and governments to do something to put a stop to domestic and family violence.
Rosie and I had several chats prior to the announcement of the 2015 Australian of the Year about how – if she won the award – it would impact her life. Could she cope with the additional demands on her life? A year is a long time to keep up the campaigning. And most importantly, with Luke’s loss so raw, as a grieving mother did she think she could continue the grieving process while managing the demands that come with this national recognition.
An unequivocal ‘yes’
While agreeing it would be difficult if she was to be named Australian of the Year, for Rosie it was an unequivocal ‘yes’ to staying in the process. She wanted to stay in the mix. She wanted to do it for Luke and the countless other mothers and children living their lives in fear, and especially for those who were no longer with us. I asked myself about the impact it would have on Rosie, having to share her awful story over and over and over. Every member of the NADC wrestled with that, and then when it came to the vote, agreed this was Rosie’s time – and perhaps it was Australia’s time too.
In her moving acceptance speech on the lawns of our national parliament, in dedicating the award ‘to her beautiful son, Luke’, Rosie outlined the reasons why she felt it was important to use her voice as a voice for so many victims who couldn’t speak and couldn’t be heard.
“Whilst we celebrate the wonderful country that we live in today there remains a serious epidemic across our nation,” Rosie spoke to the hushed crowd in the shadows of parliament. “No matter where you live, family violence exists in every pocket of every neighbourhood. It does not discriminate, and it is across all sections of our society. Family violence may happen behind closed doors but it needs to be brought out from the shadows and into broad daylight.”
No strings attached
After the awards ceremony, I reminded Rosie that the honour came with no strings attached. There is no cash prize for the Australian of the Year, and I explained that the majority of the previous winners accepted the award and pretty much went on with their lives as normal.
Rosie was having none of that, and just a few hours later I got my first sense of what was to come when, after just a few hours’ sleep, Rosie and I bowled up together before sunrise at federal parliament’s press gallery for a barrage of breakfast television and radio interviews.
Rosie stepped up to every one of those interviews like a pro. Here was someone whose life had been shattered, but she’d set herself on a mission to effect significant change and she wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to speak out. Rosie knew, from the tragic loss of Luke’s life, she had a purpose, and through the award she’d been given an incredible opportunity to speak out on a topic that had been taboo..
Day one, a blur
For Rosie, day one as Australian of the Year was a blur, and neither she, nor my small, hard-working team at the National Australia Day Council was quite prepared for what would come next.
Rosie’s selection in 2015 as our national ‘champion’ was unique in many ways. Never before had someone come from relative obscurity, a name completely unknown to 99 per cent of Australians a year earlier, carried off the trophy. A
lmost without exception, all the previous winners were fortunate to have a strong support base around them. They had managers, executive assistants, diary secretaries, a club, an industry and in many cases a whole profession behind them. Rosie was pretty much alone. And as Rosie says in her new book: “I was totally unprepared for what it (the award) meant, and the avalanche headed my way.”
My greatest regret
My team and I were equally unprepared. We did what we could do to support Rosie, but it was never going to be enough given the demands on her time and her appetite to keep going, sharing her story and advocating for change. It remains a huge regret that, even with our limited resources, we couldn’t do more.
Rosie sums it up best saying, “Despite what people assume, the award doesn’t come with the trimmings of an office and staff. There’s no assistant to help field phone calls and organise your diary, no salary, nor any financial support. You are handed a beautiful (and very heavy) glass sculpture, then it’s really up to you to determine what happens next.”
Rosie and I had many conversations, many of them quite difficult conversations, about how she was struggling to cope with the demands on her time. It became clear to me that, having given her the honour, thrusting her into the national spotlight, we should have been better prepared to support Rosie. Unlike previous award winners like Adam Goodes, Fred Hollows, Sir Peter Cosgrove, Ita Buttrose and Steve Waugh, there was no support team behind Rosie.
Gaining support
Thankfully, Rosie was able call upon others for support to help her manage that ‘avalanche’ of requests for her to speak at events all across the nation and to comment in the media about every shocking incident of domestic violence that seemed to be happening daily.
There’s no other way of describing what Rosie did in her year – she was superhuman. At the same time, I worried about Rosie’s physical and mental health every day of her term as our Australian of the Year.
“It was an intense period, during which I felt an immense sense of purpose, but it was exhausting, and life was very blurry at times,” Rosie said. “People would say to me, ‘Rosie, you really need to make time for grief,’ but I was already in enough pain, far too much pain – I didn’t think it was possible to feel any more pain.”
Taking its toll
By the end of her time as Australian of the Year, Rosie had given hundreds, possibly thousands, of media interviews, sharing her message with millions of Australians. She also spoke at 250 events, almost one a day in a blitz that must have taken its toll.
“On one level, being Australian of the Year was too much. But on another level, I don’t know if I’d be here if it wasn’t for that award, because I’d have been spending a lot of time alone,” Rosie wrote in her book.
“The award gave me purpose, meaning and, importantly, a direction to head towards. I can’t imagine how that year would’ve been otherwise. I influenced (government) policy and legislation and challenged everyone to look at how they could and should play a part in reducing family violence and respond to victims with respect… rather than victim-blaming by asking questions like ‘Why didn’t she just leave?”’
A great sense of pride
Despite my feeling of guilt at not being able to do more to support Rosie on her mission, I feel an immense sense of pride that our organisation recognised Rosie’s bravery, and unique ability to cut through with her message, by giving Rosie a national platform to effect change. Within 24 hours, this opened doors for her to connect with Australians at all levels, from the Prime Minister and corporate heavyweights right down to every man, woman and child on the street.
A decade later, I still can’t grasp how Rosie got through that year. Hers was a truly remarkable effort built as much on courage as conviction.
From a personal perspective, and without wanting to diminish the achievements of any of the other fabulous Australians of the Year, I can’t think of anyone more worthy, nor can I think of anyone who used the award as Rosie did, seizing her once in a lifetime opportunity to change our nation for the better.
Bringing back memories
Catching up again with Rosie at her recent Press Club address brought so many (mainly happy) memories flooding back.
Now 62, Rosie has lost none of her passion for the cause.
“Truth be told, the decade gone by weighs heavily on me in many ways. No day goes by when I don’t think about Luke,” Rosie told the Press Club. “No awards, no applause, and no accolades will bring him back to me. I take some comfort in knowing that I honour his memory in everything I do.”
‘We must stay hopeful’
Despite a royal commission and millions of dollars being spent on domestic violence prevention, women and children are still being murdered at an alarming rate in Australia (disappointingly, about the same rate as when Rosie first rose to prominence in 2014). But Rosie believes with greater resources and greater education, especially for younger Australians, the federal government’s goal to end violence against women and children in a generation is achievable.
“How can we aim for less than that.”
Rosie completed her speech at the National Press Club to another standing ovation as she continues to rally the nation for long overdue change that will save lives.
“As I stand here today, I call upon all Australians to walk beside me on a path to stopping violence before it starts,” she said. “And to the Australian media, I urge you to keep this conversation alive, to keep championing a safer, more compassionate society.
“Together, we will create a future where every individual, every family, is able to thrive.
“We must stay hopeful.”
Hope by Rosie Batty with Sue Smethurst, is published by HarperCollins (2024) and available at all good bookstores.
Where to find help
If you (or someone else) are in danger, or if you have been threatened, physically hurt or sexually assaulted, call triple zero (000). The government's HealthDirect website provides domestic violence information and links to advisory services, including the NSW Domestic Violence Line 1800 656 463, 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) and Child Protection Helpline 13 21 11. Our Watch is a national leader in the primary prevention of violence against women and their children in Australia. In Wollongong, support services include Women Illawarra and SAHSSI.