Condolence

O'Donoghue, Dr Lowitja

The Hon. P.B. MALINAUSKAS (Croydon—Premier) (11:04): I move:

That this house records its sincere regret at the death, on 4 February 2024, of Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue AC CBE DSG and places on record its appreciation for her lifelong commitment to improving the rights, health and wellbeing of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and offers its deepest sympathy to her family and community on the loss of a remarkable South Australian.

I come before the house to mark the life and work of a truly extraordinary South Australian. We farewell Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue AC CBE DSG, respected elder, trailblazing activist, and advocate for the rights of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

Noel Pearson called her 'the greatest Aboriginal leader of the modern era'. Paul Keating declared her, 'A remarkable Australian leader…whose unfailing instinct for enlargement marks her out as unique.' She inspired, challenged and counselled multiple generations of Indigenous workers and activists in every state and territory. She was a leader of leaders.

Born in our state's Far North, Dr O'Donoghue was taken from her family as an infant and raised in a mission home in the Flinders Ranges. She never knew exactly where she was born. That was not the only thing that she would not know about her own life. The birth date given on her official documents, 1 August 1932, was chosen by missionaries. She would not even know her true name until she was finally reunited with her mother 33 years after she was taken away from her.

While she was reticent to describe herself as 'stolen', she spoke of a childhood without love or affection, even from those who treated her with kindness. But while love was denied to Dr O'Donoghue in so many ways throughout her youth, her love for her people remained strong and true throughout her life. While at Colebrook children's home, the young Lowitja was told that she would never amount to anything. How wrong they were.

Dr O'Donoghue spent her adult life fighting for the rights of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and reshaping public policy for the better. All her life, Dr O'Donoghue considered herself first and foremost a nurse, a qualification she wore with justified pride. It was an honour she had to fight for, having been told Aboriginal people could not be admitted to a nursing degree. However, her determination and passion saw her case taken all the way to Premier Thomas Playford himself and she became the first Aboriginal nurse to train at the Royal Adelaide Hospital.

She was the founding Chair of the National Aboriginal Conference, a key figure in the 1967 referendum, and a central figure in the state Department of Aboriginal Affairs throughout the 1970s. Her compassion was legendary. The story goes that she always had a full picnic basket packed in her red Volkswagen ready to deploy whenever someone needed a feed.

She was the inaugural Chair of ATSIC in 1990, a leader on the Mabo decision, and the first-ever Aboriginal person to address the United Nations General Assembly. She was consulted by Prime Minister Rudd for the apology to the stolen generation and she could have been our first female Governor-General, a suggestion made to Paul Keating in 1995.

Her many honours include being the first Aboriginal woman to be made a Member of the Order of Australia, alongside Commander of the Order of the British Empire; Australian of the Year; and an Australian National Living Treasure. She was even invested as a Dame of the Order of Saint Gregory the Great by Pope John Paul II, despite not actually being Catholic. But this litany of achievement was not simply in service of her own ambition. She was determined that Aboriginal people, especially Aboriginal women, would not face the same struggles and barriers that she once did—and she did so on her own terms, every step of the way.

During her nursing career, she was encouraged on multiple occasions to seek a card from the Aborigines Protection Board that would make her exempt from the Aboriginal act and thus have the rights and privileges reserved for non-Aboriginal people. Every time, she refused, declaring that she 'would not have a dog metal of any kind'. The responsibility to open doors not just for herself but for all who followed was a responsibility that she carried with courage, with grace and with dignity at all times, but most importantly it was a responsibility she carried with the love that she inspired in those around her.

Dr O'Donoghue leaves behind her family, her community and a nation vastly better for her efforts as she embarks on a new journey. The life and work of Dr O'Donoghue is not merely a gift that she leaves us; it is also a challenge and an example. Dr O'Donoghue shows exactly what can be done with a life lived with courage, hope, independence and love: a legacy of incredible significance, of sweeping change, of pioneering achievement. The flame she lit cannot be extinguished. The work will go on. I move that this motion be commended to the house.

The Hon. D.J. SPEIRS (Black—Leader of the Opposition) (11:11): On behalf of the opposition, I rise to also make a contribution on the condolence motion moved by the Premier for Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue AC CBE DSG, a remarkable South Australian whose legacies for Aboriginal Australians will endure forever, but I like to think her legacy for all Australians will also be significant. Dr O'Donoghue was a leader, a lifelong campaigner and an advocate for improving the rights and outcomes of Aboriginal people. But beyond being an advocate, she was a change maker, someone who saw policy reform in practical action, personally achieving many firsts for Aboriginal Australians and, in particular, for Aboriginal women.

Born in August 1932 on a cattle station in the Far North of South Australia, she was born to an Aboriginal mother, Lily Woodforde, and a father of Irish descent, Thomas O'Donoghue. At age two, Dr O'Donoghue was removed from her family and sent to a mission, the Colebrook Home, which at that time was located in Quorn in South Australia's Flinders Ranges. She lived at that mission with her siblings, initially receiving an education from the Quorn Primary School and later at Eden Hills and Unley High School following the relocation of the Colebrook Home to Eden Hills in 1944.

Lowitja started work at 16, but after several years she applied to study nursing at the Royal Adelaide Hospital. Aboriginal people were not accepted at that time into nurse training; however, in an act that became characteristic of her motivations throughout her life, she lobbied the then government, including the Premier at the time, Sir Thomas Playford, and in 1954 at the age of 22 she became the first Aboriginal trainee nurse at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, paving the way for Aboriginal people to enter nursing. She continued to serve and devote 10 years of her life to her nursing career and in time was promoted to charge nurse, leaving the hospital in 1961.

From 1962 until 1972, Dr O'Donoghue continued campaigning to improve the rights of Aboriginal people. Again, her focus was particularly on women. She was a founding member of the Council of Aboriginal Women of South Australia and worked as a nurse and welfare officer for the Department of Aboriginal Affairs in South Australia, working in Coober Pedy, Oodnadatta, the APY lands and Point McLeay.

The year 1967 heralded significant advancements for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people across Australia, with a referendum gaining support for more than 90 per cent of Australians to change the constitution to allow for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders to be included in the Census and for the commonwealth to make laws for them. Dr O'Donoghue advocated strongly for this reform, but her role as an advocate was far from over.

She went on to become, at various times, a member of the National Aboriginal Consultative Committee, the regional director for the South Australian branch of the Department of Aboriginal Affairs—the first Aboriginal person to be promoted to this level—and she was a board director of the Aboriginal Development Commission.

As a testament to her significant personal contribution towards improving outcomes for the Aboriginal community, she was recognised with the nation's highest honours in 1976, when she was invested as a Member of the Order of Australia for service to the Aboriginal community, the first Aboriginal woman to be inducted into the new Australian honour system. By 1983, she was invested as a Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) for service to the Aboriginal community, and, in 1984, she became Australian of the Year.

Dr O'Donoghue witnessed many policy transitions. She was the final chairperson of the Aboriginal Development Commission in 1990, and was subsequently announced as the inaugural Chairperson for the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission (ATSIC). In 1992, she became the first Aboriginal person to address the United Nations General Assembly in New York for what was the launch of the International Year for the World's Indigenous Peoples.

I was interested to learn that our current South Australian Governor, Her Excellency the Hon. Frances Adamson AC, was actually present for Dr O'Donoghue's address to the General Assembly. She was a young diplomat at the time and said that Dr O'Donoghue's address 'was deeply moving, it was quite shocking but, as with everything she did, it was done with grace'. From what I have learned about Dr O'Donoghue's advocacy work, I understand that this was her consistent approach: she did not avoid confronting the difficult realities, but used her personal experiences to motivate reform and better outcomes for Aboriginal communities.

In 1998, Lowitja was declared an Australian National Living Treasure, and the following year, she was awarded the Companion of the Order of Australia for public service through leadership to Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians in areas of human rights and social justice, particularly as chairwoman of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission.

In 2006, Dr O'Donoghue was invested as Dame of the Order of St Gregory the Great, a papal honour by Pope John Paul II, awarded to people often of Catholic faith—but not restricted to that, as the Premier mentioned—in recognition of their personal service to Holy See and to the Roman Catholic Church, through their unusual labours, their support of the Holy See and its aims, and the examples that they set to their communities.

Dr O'Donoghue was involved in the formal national apology to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, particularly to the stolen generations, on behalf of the nation at the Australian Parliament House in 2008, and she announced her retirement from public life several months later. In 2009, she was honoured with a NAIDOC Lifetime Achievement Award.

Dr O'Donoghue passed away on 4 February 2024. Throughout her life, she challenged stereotypes and expectations, and encouraged people, particularly Aboriginal people, to aspire to great things. She advocated for change and elevated the voices of Aboriginal Australians. Her legacies will endure, including the significant work of the Lowitja Institute, which works to influence policies, programs and practices that make a positive difference.

Her achievements are significant and they will be remembered by many people in many different ways. To Lowitja's family and friends who are gathered here today, on behalf of the opposition, I offer you our sympathies, but also acknowledge that this is a woman whose legacy will live on for decades if not centuries to come. Vale Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue.

The Hon. C.J. PICTON (Kaurna—Minister for Health and Wellbeing) (11:19): I also rise to mourn the loss of Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue—a great leader and a force for her community and for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people across our country. The seen and unseen impact of Dr O'Donoghue on the health and other systems in South Australia was transformational for both Aboriginal and non-Indigenous Australians.

Dr O'Donoghue was born on 1 August 1932 and passed away peacefully aged 91 in February earlier this year. Born in De Rose Hill in the remote north-west corner of South Australia, like many Aboriginal children at the time in its shameful part of our history she and her two sisters were removed from their mother at the age of two, part of the stolen generation. Her dedication to health and wellbeing has been well recorded and recognised in the public record, in addition to the Lowitja Institute and the establishment of the Lowitja O'Donoghue Foundation.

In 1953, Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue applied to complete her nursing training at the Royal Adelaide Hospital. She was refused because of her Aboriginal heritage. She fought this unfair and unjust decision and sought support from the then South Australian Premier Sir Thomas Playford. She of course did not just fight this decision for herself; she fought it for many other young aspirational Aboriginal nurses and doctors and other healthcare workers who were to then follow in her footsteps. This was just one of many first steps where she paved the road for other Aboriginal people in this country.

The decision was eventually overturned, and in 1954 she was the first Aboriginal trainee nurse at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, where she worked for 10 years. By 1959, she had been promoted to the role of a charge sister. Dr Lowitja always referred to the Royal Adelaide Hospital as the RAH and it became an institution that she was proud to be part of. The same institution that had once turned her away, she made her home.

In South Australia, we now have 225 Aboriginal nurses and midwives working across SA Health. They prove every day they are leaders in this field, and it is because of inspirational pioneers such as Dr Lowitja that they are able to have those roles. The generous mentorship that Dr Lowitja provided directly and indirectly, in particular to young Aboriginal women, has had a ripple effect that will be felt for generations to come.

I strongly believe that Dr Lowitja's leadership paved the way for other fearless Aboriginal leaders in health, like the late Mary Buckskin, who now has an SA Health Excellence Award named after her, ensuring future Aboriginal trailblazers can be honoured for their excellence. There are also many other leaders, such as Janine Mohamed, a proud Narungga and Kaurna woman, who has been the CEO of the Lowitja Institute and served for many years as a nurse within the Aboriginal community-controlled health sector at a state, national and international level.

Throughout her life, Dr Lowitja continued to campaign relentlessly for the rights of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. She fought for the recognition of Aboriginal people at the 1967 referendum and went on to join the South Australian branch of the Federal Office of Aboriginal Affairs. In the early 1970s, Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue was a member of the Aboriginal Legal Rights Movement and was appointed to the position of regional director of the South Australian Department of Aboriginal Affairs. Here she was responsible for the local implementation of national Aboriginal welfare policy, becoming the first woman to hold such a position in a federal department.

Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue was the founding Chairperson of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission and also played a role in drafting the native title legislation arising from the High Court's historic Mabo decision. She was the first Aboriginal person to address the United Nations General Assembly, proving her reach went well beyond South Australia and even Australia.

The Lowitja Institute, named after Dr Lowitja as its patron, is Australia's only national Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community-controlled health research institute. I hope the Lowitja Institute will continue to support the next generation of Aboriginal health researchers for many decades to come by continuing the work that Dr Lowitja started herself back in 1954 and which continues to play a role even as recently as a couple of weeks ago in working with governments to address Aboriginal health inequalities across this country. The Lowitja O'Donoghue Foundation, proudly established by the institute on Dr Lowitja's 90^th birthday, will help to keep her incredible story alive through education and scholarships.

Dr Lowitja's participation in the 1997 national forum led to the development of strategies focusing on increasing the numbers of Aboriginal people in nursing and the establishment of the Congress of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Nurses. She is now the founding patron of the Congress of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Nurses and Midwives, which continues this support for our nursing and midwifery workforce.

Many people recognise Dr Lowitja for her work and impact within Aboriginal affairs and health sectors, but just as important is her impact on non-Indigenous Australians. She truly believed in reconciliation and tirelessly demonstrated this in all aspects of her work and life. Her story brought a real face to reconciliation, and she led through example to face and overcome many barriers to achieve success. As a visible and outspoken Aboriginal woman during a time when examples of Aboriginal excellence were scarce in the media, she was able to be a guiding light for many and changed the narrative for all of us.

Noel Pearson once famously described her as 'the greatest Aboriginal leader of the modern era…the rock who steadied us in the storm'. We recognise her fearless and passionate advocacy and the impact she had on the lives of countless people both in South Australia and nationally. Her accomplishments will stand the test of time and become a lasting legacy.

As a final note, at the state funeral, which many of us were honoured to be at recently, afterwards the Premier and I had the opportunity to meet a whole cohort of the staff from the aged-care residence in which Dr Lowitja had been cared for in her final years. Very passionate nurses spoke about her passion, particularly for nursing, but also what a delight it was for those staff to be able to care for Dr Lowitja. Vale Dr Lowitja.

Mr TEAGUE (Heysen) (11:26): Today we honour Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue AC CBE DSG, who passed away on 4 February this year. Among those spilling out from the cathedral following the conclusion of the state funeral on 8 March, I looked around and saw Noel Pearson, Frank Brennan and Tim Costello. I saw a Prime Minister and a Premier, members of government, members of community, those with whom Lowitja had worked over her lifetime, and I reflected, as I have reflected since: how are we worthy to reflect fully on that great life, that great person, that great woman of South Australia? We attempt to do so this morning against particularly the beautiful sounds of the Ernabella Choir to send us out.

There is a lot of cause for reflection. It has been said already this morning that Lowitja was among the greats. I say she was truly the most inspiring and most able and accomplished Aboriginal leader Australia has known. Lowitja had integrity and competence. She knew what her leadership roles were, she dedicated herself to them and she did them superbly well. Much has been said and ought to be said about all of those roles.

I now pause for a moment for the words of Stuart Rintoul in the authorised biography that was published only in 2020. As is recorded there:

In August of 1932, somewhere a station called De Rose Hill, Lowitja takes her first breath. Her birth is not registered. Nor her name, nor the day, not the place.

When her father handed her over to the missionaries, she lost her name, she lost her mother, her family, her language and her identity. She said:

I remember in my very earliest days standing up for what I believed in. One of the earliest memories I have is of coming between the matron and the strap. I would often stand in the way when the strap was intended for others, with the result being that I, too, got a beating.

So she stood up early, and she made a lifetime's commitment of standing up. Can I unpack then, in some ways, the practical journey that Lowitja took in that standing up.

After what we know was an unhappy time at Colebrook—it is well documented—first in Quorn and then near Adelaide upon the moving of Colebrook, she went to live with the Swincers at Waitpinga. It was there, as a teenager, that she became a convinced Christian. It was while attending church alongside Joyce Swincer that she came into contact with Alice Tuck, and the question was asked, 'So you want to be nursing?' Lowitja said, 'Yes, I want to be nursing,' and Alice said, 'Right, well, you start right now.' So she started her training under that much-loved matron of the South Coast District Hospital at Victor Harbor.

It has been observed that she ran into a barrier part of the way through that training. She undertook her first stages of training at the South Coast District Hospital, and in that way she was taking up a pathway that was available there. But the brakes were put on that, pronto, when she went to complete her training at the only place she was able to, at the RAH. Although the matron there, the leading nurse, was celebrated for achievement in a whole lot of ways, there was a big blind spot. Lowitja was told, 'You should go to Alice Springs and go and look after your own people at Alice Springs.' It was completely foreign territory to her. She said, 'No, I won't do that. I want to complete my training and I want to then go and achieve in nursing.' So we have heard it described.

In a way, it was the first point of political engagement for Lowitja, built out of what she has described as her earliest days of determination to press on and to achieve, even against all those odds of birth and the practical odds that she encountered when looking to pursue professional studies. She got there. She completed her nursing training.

One might have thought that, having done that, you might then stay and take up opportunities that might be presented to you locally. She did not do that. She went to the Far North and provided what might have been the only medical assistance at Ernabella, Fregon, Mimili, Indulkana, Pipalyatjara and at the outer camps as well. This was before the establishment of what we now call the APY lands, but it was there in those lands. Those are places that are familiar to me through a childhood of going to visit them, and I know that to get to those places is hard enough, let alone committing yourself to going back and helping those who you know will need your assistance.

For the last several decades of her life, there is no doubt that when Lowitja spoke she spoke with a national authority. I am not aware of any Aboriginal person in public life ever disagreeing with her, such was her leadership.

To reflect again on the personal life, it was nearly 40 years ago that an opportunity was presented. My father has explained this to me. He was suffering some broken ribs from a football match and, finding himself sitting next to Lowitja O'Donoghue and travelling together, Lowitja became the nurse again. In the course of nursing those minor ailments, she shared that major pain of her life.

She talked about the chance that came only decades along the way to find her mother and to do so by travelling on her own from Coober Pedy to Oodnadatta, arriving at the end of the day at dusk and finding her mother alone in a frail humpy on the outskirts of town. She said that her mother recognised her but refused to converse with her because she felt unworthy to do so.

Her mother's silent protest was that she was poor and dirty and uneducated and had nothing to give, but she had a great deal to give; she could give herself. Eventually, Lowitja said, the next day she was able to give that assurance, but not without great pain, not without great pain in the reconciliation.

Lowitja's service and memory is there for all to see in all sorts of public ways. On 25 January this year, and not with a thought about her imminent passing, I happened upon a plaque at the Davenport community that is dated 7 September 1989, towards the end of Lowitja's time as commissioner of the Aboriginal Development Commission and immediately prior to her taking on the leadership of ATSIC. It recognises Lowitja O'Donoghue opening in that capacity the community centre at Davenport.

In honouring Lowitja today, I think we do well to do so with humility and to reflect upon what we need to continue to do to achieve more to come together, to achieve more to recognise what individuals can achieve in their life, even against the greatest of adversity, and to recommit ourselves to learn from that great life of service that Lowitja provided to all of us here in South Australia and across the country.

To end, I reflect on the words that Lowitja shared on that most extraordinary of international stages, when she said, 'We want you to share with us a future of peace and hope based upon mutual respect and understanding and a new partnership based on equality, equal opportunity and social justice.' Vale Lowitja O'Donoghue.

The Hon. N.F. COOK (Hurtle Vale—Minister for Human Services) (11:38): Sometime around August 1932, this country was given one of the greatest gifts, in the form of Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue. We will never know that exact date, because it was not recorded at the time, but we do know the profound and deep impact that this had upon this nation. She was born in De Rose Hill somewhere, north of Indulkana, east of Pukatja, under the clearest sky in the universe, a place of true beauty and power.

Despite her passing on 4 February this year, she lives on through the foundation named in her honour, along with countless people whose lives have taken a better path for knowing her. When you look at the list of achievements, you often wonder how one person could have blazed so many trails and smashed so many glass ceilings. But, her work was never done. There was always something else to do to make this country, to make this world, a better place, and Lowitja was there doing the hard yards.

I was an adopted child who did not know my birth family for decades; in fact, I did not know I was adopted until I was well into my adult years, and this experience has its own impacts. But, Lowitja and four of her brothers and sisters were all removed from their family, from their mother Lily, and taken to Colebrook children's home in Quorn in the 1920s and 1930s.

It is simply impossible to imagine the grief and harm that must have affected Lily and her five children after being separated for no other reason than Aboriginality, yet Lowitja overcame. She faced discrimination, the likes of which I hope we would never walk past or tolerate today, yet Lowitja overcame it. She fought for causes, including an Australian republic, in addition to many Aboriginal causes, with many setbacks and defeats, yet Lowitja overcame them.

Despite honours being heaped upon her, she simply kept working. The former king of Scotland, Robert the Bruce, is known for saying, 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again'. With all respect to the Scots, Lowitja made Robert the Bruce look like a lightweight. He barely broke a sweat and really did not try that hard.

She worked in hospitals in India and Australia, and for state and federal governments of all colours and types. She headed up boards, commissions and committees of every kind, not the least of which was the role as the inaugural Chair of ATSIC. She rebuilt connections with separated family after 30 years—that challenge incredible, amazing. She was recognised by the British honour system, our Australia's honour system and similarly recognised by the Pope. I am sincerely not a very religious person at all, but I am also happy to say the Catholic Church made a very good decision that day.

At almost every turn from the 1950s until the 2000s, Lowitja was there fighting for respect, equality and compassion. I would like to say that I understand a little bit where that came from through many experiences in life, but Lowitja went to Unley Girls Tech. Some people might not realise, but Unley Girls Tech in Wattle Street actually merged with what is called Mitcham Girls High School, Kyre Avenue-Rugby Street, Kingswood—my school. I went to Mitcham Girls High School, too, and I have only just discovered that this is part of Lowitja's journey.

The work ranged from Lowitja's own battles to be accepted to study nursing and fighting for the 1967 referendum—we all know how hard referendums can be—addressing the United Nations, pushing Mabo land rights legislation, advising our former premier on the APY lands and advising our former prime minister on the apology to the stolen generations. It is often said that fact is stranger than fiction, and Lowitja's life and legacy make you wonder how she found the time, the energy and the persistence to achieve all of what she did.

Within the nursing community, of which I am a proud member, Lowitja is simply the stuff of legend. I had the absolute privilege of attending Lowitja's funeral and the even greater privilege of talking with some family, friends and absolutely dedicated community members who are continuing the legacy with the institution, the foundation. This came only months after I had had discussions and brought together people from the University of South Australia and Flinders University, of which I am alumni of both, to discuss how we can better ensure that people from community lead community and care and support community in the way of scholarships, being completely unaware of the mission of Lowitja's foundation and the scholarships. That day, I made a commitment that we would return to the table and have a discussion about how we in this place can better leverage support for those scholarships and ensure that people from community lead community and care for their community.

I do not know whether Lowitja would like to be called a hero. It is kind of weird terminology for Lowitja and Lowitja's people, but it is exactly what she was, and still is, to me and so many others. We need heroes to show us that we can be better as individual people and as a community. It is one thing to tell people to do better, but it is another thing entirely to do better and inspire people to follow in your footsteps. We have a generation coming through who will know Lowitja's story and feel the awe that comes from knowing what she did and how she did it.

At the recent Dunstan by-election, I was handing out flyers at Marryatville Primary School. When I looked to my left, I saw the most beautiful thing: a big sign declaring a section of the yard to be the 'Lowitja O'Donoghue thinking space'. It was a beautiful and moving moment to know that someone who was rejected when she tried to improve her education and training is now being held up as a shining light and a shining example for school students to follow.

I would like to reflect briefly on the place where Lowitja was born, in the APY lands in the far north of South Australia, where I set foot for the very first time only one week ago today. I had the pleasure of being welcomed by Anangu, many of whom shared strong, articulate and consistent stories. It makes me feel a varied set of emotions, but I feel very confident, sadly, that many of those stories—those strong, articulate, consistent stories—are no different from the stories that Lowitja told herself, decades and decades ago. So little progress has been made, and we have so much to do together to walk side by side together.

It reminds me that while Lowitja walked and succeeded in two worlds, we have an obligation to protect and support the world in the heart of our country. There is a deep value in protecting, preserving and celebrating culture, language and places. We have lost so much in so many parts of Australia, so we need to act to preserve every single bit of what is left. As many others have said, we are home to the oldest living culture on the planet, and despite more than 200 years of various efforts to stamp it out, it is still there in the beating heart of Australia. In remembering and honouring Lowitja, we can do little better than make a commitment in this place to do what we can do together, walking side by side, to support those whose lives are tied to songs, to stories and to the law of the APY.

To Lowitja's family and friends present in the house today, in particular Deborah Edwards, Amy O'Donoghue, Ruby Edwards and Mahailia Levinson: I cannot tell you how grateful I am just to know a small piece of Lowitja's story and be able to share that with you today. It is a huge privilege. Lowitja, I would love to say 'rest in peace', but I do not think you will; I think you will still be extremely busy. As I looked up into the sky—I think it was north-east of Pip—I thought, 'I am sure Lowitja is there trying to guide her community to much greater things,' and we can do that together. Vale Lowitja O'Donoghue.

The Hon. K.A. HILDYARD (Reynell—Minister for Child Protection, Minister for Women and the Prevention of Domestic and Family Violence, Minister for Recreation, Sport and Racing) (11:48): I want to particularly acknowledge that here in this place, we are together on land that always was, is and always will be Kaurna land and pay my deep respects to Kaurna elders past, present and future. In making that acknowledgement, I offer gratitude to the women, including the extraordinary Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue, whom we honour today, for the role that she and many other Aboriginal women leaders play in tirelessly advancing the interests of girls and women, often doing so over years, over decades and over the course of their lifetimes.

Today, with a heavy heart and with such deep gratitude and admiration, I pay tribute and respect to Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue, a proud Yankunytjatjara woman whose legacy is both a story of personal triumph and a testament to resilience, strength, love and the power of one person to inspire and relentlessly and with such grace advance activism, courage and change on a local and indeed a global scale.

Dr O'Donoghue's advocacy for the rights and recognition of Aboriginal people has left an indelible mark on our collective conscience. Through her leadership, her capacity for love and steadfast yet gentle determination, she paved the way for greater understanding and acceptance of culture, challenging stereotypes and breaking down barriers.

In the months since her passing, I have reflected often on Lowitja's life. As I reflected on the theme of this year's International Women's Day, Count Her In, I was reminded that Lowitja lived with a system that did not want to count her in, a system that removed her from her mother. Despite that system, Lowitja lived with such courage and such grace and spent her whole life fighting to ensure every Aboriginal woman, and indeed person, counted. To spend your life and your leadership empowering others to be counted, to lead and to be treated with dignity and respect despite challenges put in front of your own life and leadership is such a very special gift.

I have been contemplating Lowitja's unwavering commitment to social justice, equality and reconciliation. As the first Aboriginal woman to hold several prominent roles, Lowitja carved out a path toward achievement, blazing a trail for generations of women to come. One of many stories throughout her life of resilience is seen in her early career pursuing nursing training at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, where she faced discrimination.

Undeterred, Dr O'Donoghue displayed remarkable resilience, challenging the unjust decision that tried to exclude her. She even personally appealed to the then Premier of South Australia, Sir Thomas Playford, for support. Through her steadfast determination, the decision was eventually overturned. In 1954, Dr O'Donoghue made history as the first Aboriginal individual to undertake nursing training at the Royal Adelaide Hospital.

Throughout her long career, Lowitja continued to forge new pathways for Aboriginal women at various levels in the Public Service in both the state and federal arenas. As has been spoken about, at an international level, in 1992, Lowitja was of course the first Aboriginal person to address the United Nations General Assembly during the launch of the United Nations International Year of the World's Indigenous People.

At every level and in every role throughout her life, Lowitja was dedicated to uplifting others, advocating so often for those whose voices went often unheard. Her tireless efforts in the fields of health care, education and community development have left and will continue to leave a lasting impact, improving the lives of countless individuals and communities.

I have felt so blessed to attend the funeral service for Dr O'Donoghue. In every essence of that beautiful service, Lowitja's beauty, grace and unsurpassed ability to bring Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people together was evident. The beautiful sounds of the St Peter's choir entwined with the Iwiri choir also entwined with the absolutely stunning music from the yidaki.

She was honoured by her family who were, in turn, honoured by Lowitja's broader community family. As she did throughout her life, her service was a testament to the faith and aspiration that Lowitja maintained, despite that faith being tested. She had faith in Australia as a nation and faith in us collectively as a human family.

Thank you so much, Dr O'Donoghue. You will continue to inspire every one of us. Your heart, your capacity for love and your legacy has reshaped our nation for the better, and you help all of us to walk a little taller. Your gentle strength, grace, incredible positivity in the face of adversity, and your ability to never give up will be qualities that I reflect on often, and will help all of us in this place as we continue.

To Lowitja's family, including those present today, Deborah Edwards, Amy O'Donoghue, Ruby Edwards, Mrs Mahailia Levinson, and the many others who are grieving, I offer you my love and condolences. Rest in peace, most remarkable and beautiful woman, Lowitja.

The Hon. A. MICHAELS (Enfield—Minister for Small and Family Business, Minister for Consumer and Business Affairs, Minister for Arts) (11:56): I want to add a brief word of condolence to the family and friends of Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue AC CBE DSG, who died peacefully with her family by her side on 4 February. We have heard many speeches this morning, which I think have been filled with great respect and admiration for Dr O'Donoghue.

It was one of my great regrets that I never got to meet Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue in person but for many years I have been well aware of her dedication to a life of service to others. I also hold great respect and admiration for her, particularly her passion for improving the lives of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people throughout the country. On behalf of all South Australians I also want to add my deepest sympathies to Lowitja's family and friends on her passing.

She certainly led an extraordinary life—and we have heard much about that this morning—having been removed from her mother at the age of two and sent to work as a domestic servant for a family at Victor Harbor at age 16. She was never one to step back from a fight. Dr O'Donoghue led a campaign to seek her own admission for nursing training at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, having been refused that opportunity due to her Aboriginality, as we have heard, despite already having worked as a nursing aide in Victor Harbor. Due to her determination to succeed and overcome the obstacles society had placed in her way, Dr O'Donoghue became the first Aboriginal person to train as a nurse at the Royal Adelaide Hospital.

Compassion was a hallmark in Dr O'Donoghue's life. Initially shown through her work as a nurse, her commitment to social justice was cemented during her time nursing in India. While in India, Dr O'Donoghue gained a greater understanding of Indigenous cultures and that set her on a course to fight for the recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people here in Australia. Upon returning to Australia, Dr O'Donoghue campaigned for the yes vote in the 1967 referendum, which returned a vote of over 90 per cent in favour of change.

Dr O'Donoghue worked to establish the Aboriginal Legal Rights Movement and was a lead negotiator on native title in Australia after the Mabo decision. Dr O'Donoghue was a persistent force in improving the lives of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people throughout the country. Her advocacy delivered significant outcomes in health, education, political representation, land rights and reconciliation.

I want to extend my deepest sympathies to Dr O'Donoghue's family and friends. Vale Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue.

Ms WORTLEY (Torrens) (11:58): I stand to add my voice to the condolence motion in this place today for Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue. We have heard about the remarkable person and the remarkable woman that Lowitja was: a ground breaker, the first Aboriginal to train at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, the first Aboriginal person to address the United Nations, and the inaugural patron and namesake of the Lowitja Institute.

Dr O'Donoghue achieved so many firsts. She achieved so much by opening doors, doors that in many cases had not ever been previously knocked on. A true believer in the process of reconciliation, Lowitja was an intelligent, compassionate, brave, caring, courageous and resilient visionary. She was much loved by her family, extended family, so many from the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities and by those who came to know the amazing woman that she was.

Lowitja was a leader in the true sense of the word. I am so honoured to have been in her presence on occasion to hear her words, her voice. Lowitja passed this way, her solid footprints preserved as a foundation for the future, a future that she believed in. I extend my heartfelt sympathy to her family. Vale, Lowitja O'Donoghue.

Ms HUTCHESSON (Waite) (12:00): I rise to provide my condolences to the family of Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue, her friends and everybody who knew her. We have heard today of the many achievements of Dr O'Donoghue and it cannot be underestimated the influence, the inspiration and the leadership she gave to so many.

We heard that she was taken from her mother and her home as a baby first to Colebrook Home in Quorn but later to Eden Hills. Colebrook Home in Eden Hills is no longer there. It is now a place of reflection and peace. It is a place that is lovingly cared for by the Blackwood Reconciliation Group and the Tjitji Tjuta, of which Lowitja was a member.

When Dr O'Donoghue came to Eden Hills she joined other children and for their first few years they were schooled at the home because they were not allowed to go to the primary school. It was not until her later years of primary school that Lowitja and her Colebrook family were able to go there, then on to Unley and on to her journey and the incredible things that she has done not only for Aboriginal people but for people in general when they look to her for leadership.

Lowitja O'Donoghue was a very special person to many in my community: many meeting, sharing and loving Dr O'Donoghue, learning from her courage, her leadership and her lifelong commitment to progressing opportunities for others, for young Aboriginal women and for Aboriginal people.

I never met Dr O'Donoghue: something that disappoints me every day, especially as I continue to hear more of her stories from people throughout my community. Today, I am going to share some of their thoughts and memories. Members of the Blackwood Reconciliation Group and I joined community members when they had a meeting at Colebrook after the passing of Dr Lowitja and they shared some incredible stories. I asked them if they would mind me sharing them today because I think hearing from them and hearing their love for her is something that I can share with you today.

Dianne Grigg, an incredible advocate for Aboriginal people within our community, said the following:

Dr Lowitja's ability to think and act, utilizing accumulated knowledge, experience, common sense and insight was a call to the nation to seek truth and healing by listening to accumulated First Nations voices before making judgements and decisions. Some First Nations peoples believe she had the wisdom of the owl and called upon us to 'Overcome One Day' the ill intent of willful ignorance.

It was lovely to receive this from Mike Brown, who not only spoke at the memorial but speaks of Lowitja often. He said:

Colebrook Home was a central part of her personal story, both in Quorn where she was brought at the age of two in 1934 and in Eden Hills where they moved to in 1944. But she also used Colebrook as a platform to speak to Australia. At the first reunion of former Colebrook residents at Eden Hills, in June 1997, an unexpectedly large crowd of about 1200 people watched the emotional scenes as some of the former residents told their stories. Earlier that same week, the Bringing Them Home report exposing the injustices suffered by the Stolen Generations and their families had been tabled in Federal Parliament. It was in the headlines. In a carefully prepared speech, Lowitja spoke of the pain of separation. To the Colebrook residents, she said: 'Let us turn our anger and frustration into positive acts of reconciliation. We can forgive, but never forget the sorrow of our mothers.' She then went onto highlight the recommendation of the Bringing Them Home report calling for a national apology. She called on churches and communities to get behind it as well as governments. It was across every TV news channel that night.

She brought people such as the Hon Phillip Ruddock when Minister for Reconciliation to visit the site, and many such public figures—making sure they met some of those who had been in Colebrook with her, getting them to tell their stories.

But she brought many others too. At one time she brought a dozen young Hazara refugees from Afghanistan. Hearing the story of Lowitja's mother, they went on their knees around the Grieving Mother statue, sharing stories of their own mothers back in Afghanistan.

That statue, a life-size bronze of an Aboriginal woman looking down into her empty hands from where her child has been taken, meant a lot to Lowitja. In the first years after its unveiling in 1999, she would often come up on a Sunday and put flowers in the hands of the Grieving Mother, or sit by it talking to those who came to visit.

Through all the establishment of the Memorial, Lowitja was a strong supporter of the teamwork between the former residents and the local Blackwood Reconciliation Group. Her inventions helped raise much of the money needed for the Memorial, but it was her moral support and leadership that counted the most.

Mike Lawson also wrote that he was asked by family, 'Don't list her achievements; we all know that. Tell stories of her', which is how I decided I would rather do this today. Mike also spoke at the memorial, and we all listened. There was a sad moment and then a laugh, so I will share his thoughts with you too. He says:

I hope that this adds an overall picture of a great lady. If you require any further information, I am happy to provide it.

Phil Hoffman wrote the following:

I'm really a newcomer to the scene. I was once for a time Minister of Blackwood Uniting church. And it was here at an event at Colebrook, it might have been the second local Reconciliation Walk in about 2015 that it was my task as emcee to introduce Lowitja to speak. And she began by giving me a public 'telling off': 'the church has got a lot to answer for', she said. And that was OK; I was happy to be told off by Lowitja.

Afterwards I spoke to her and she said, 'Why are we having meetings down there?'

She was talking about the church in Belair. Continuing:

'That's so far away! We ought to be meeting up there, at your place'.

At the Blackwood Uniting Church. Now Blackwood Reconciliation Group meetings happen there every month, and I attend as often as I can. He went on to say:

As it transpired, I was living at Henley Beach at the time and Lowitja at Lockleys. And one of the great privileges of my life was to transport Lowitja to BRG meetings [Blackwood Reconciliation Group]. She would have been there in her early 80s by then, on a walker, which it was my job to pack in the old Volvo to bring her. And we would always have to stop, here at Colebrook, for her to place a bouquet of flowers at the Grieving Mother statue; it still meant so much to her. She was delightful company and she would chat along the way. She loved a story and she would give a deep chortle and tell of encounters with public figures. Those conversations will remain confidential, but by the time Stuart Rintoul's biography was published I think I had already heard most of what I read.

I have watched on over many years and I see a challenge that our indigenous people, particularly their leaders face; a delicate balance between being true to the dispossession and disadvantage of the past, and yet, still being constructive in reaching for a future of healing and reconciliation. On the one hand, they can end up stuck as victims, which is well understood, but then to talk of the future without doing justice to our history is also only half the story. In my view, no Aboriginal leader has ever got that balance more accurate than Lowitja O'Donoghue.

And a final note. Late after one meeting we pulled into her driveway and she said, 'Reverend'—she always called me that, hers was very church background—'Reverend, are you any good at changing lightglobes?' Well, my family would probably tell you 'no'. My technical skills are very limited. But I did. I could help her out. So my memoirs, if they should ever be written, will be titled I changed a lightglobe for Lowitja O'Donoghue.

There were many more stories, and time is getting away, but I did want to share what happened at Belair Primary School on the day of Lowitja's funeral. The Belair Primary School children and their teachers wanted to show their respect to Lowitja. They began the day by holding a flag lowering ceremony as the state funeral started, where the children all learnt about flag protocols. The students then researched Dr O'Donoghue, her history with Colebrook children's home and why she is an amazing representative for International Women's Day—and her state funeral coincided with this day. Ramih, one of the students, when asked to reflect about what they had learned, wrote:

Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue was a great representative for International Women's Day because of all the work she has done for Aboriginal men and women. She has worked in the days when most men would work and women would stay home. But being such a proud Aboriginal woman, she has fought her way throughout her wonderful life. She should get a state funeral because she has been powerful and she should be remembered as a strong woman.

Emily wrote:

I believe that Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue is an amazing role model to represent International Women's Day because of her outstanding achievements for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander People's rights. She was part of the Stolen Generation and taken from her mother when she was 2 years old. She only saw her mother again 30 years later. She was the first Aboriginal nurse in South Australia. Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue dedicated her life to the health and well-being of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples. She also worked really hard for reconciliation and the right for Indigenous People to vote. She was an inspirational leader and woman and the perfect example to represent International Women's Day. She should get a state funeral because of her extremely amazing work that she has done for our country. The service will honour Dr O'Donoghue's lifelong work to improve the health, and wellbeing of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

Young Will wrote:

Dr O'Donoghue has been awarded numerous honours in recognition of her contribution to promoting Aboriginal rights, including Membership of the Order of Australia (the first Aboriginal to become so), Australian of the Year in 1984, Australian National Living Treasure and a Papal honour from Pope John Paul II. Dr O'Donoghue is a great representative for International Women's Day because she stands up [for] women's rights and Aboriginal people. It is very unfortunate that she passed away because she is very important to the Aboriginal community.

When we attended the small gathering at Colebrook it was incredibly touching to hear all those stories, and there are a lot more, as I said. But they also played We Shall Overcome, and I think it was incredibly emotional to hear everybody join in and sing together as it was a song that was very dear to Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue's heart and deeply symbolic of her lifetime of activism and leadership.

It is incredibly sad that we have lost such an incredible woman but I have really enjoyed hearing the stories of my community and how much they loved and cherished her. At her state funeral, I sat down next to people from out the other side of town who I had never met before and they all had incredible stories of Lowitja and what they remembered from their time with her. I want to take the opportunity again to pass on my condolences to you all and I hope sharing a few little stories shows you how much she was loved throughout my community. We will continue to do all we can to acknowledge all of the work she has done.

Motion carried.