In today's contribution to this debate, I simply want to put the words of Georgie Stone. As a young person, her words are far more relevant to this debate than my own views. So I will deliver this speech on her behalf. She's an incredible young woman, Australian actress, writer and transgender rights advocate. She says:
My name is Georgie and I am a proud 22-year-old transgender woman from Melbourne.
I am here in Canberra to host a screening of my short documentary, The Dreamlife of Georgie Stone as part of a delegation of families, doctors, Transcend Australia, The Gender Centre, LGBTIQ+ Health Australia and other members of the trans community.
My documentary—directed by the incredible Maya Newell—I believe is the perfect catalyst for a trip to Parliament House to invite you to not only stand in solidarity but actively support one of the most vulnerable and marginalised communities in Australia; trans kids.
When I was a kid, my favourite thing to do was play with my brother Harry in the backyard or in the park near our house.
Harry and I would run excitedly into the bushes, pretending we were escaping into a fantasy world and going on adventures.
Sometimes we'd rope our parents into our games, or even our poor dog Roxy.
As I started primary school, these adventures became even more important to me.
I didn't realise how appealing a fantasy world would look, compared to the one I was living in.
As a young trans girl, I grew up being taught that there was something wrong with me.
From the bullying I endured at my first Primary School, to that same school refusing to support my transition, to having to go to the Family Court of Australia three times to access medical treatment.
I spent years having to convince adults that I was who I said I was, and that my gender identity wasn't a fantasy, or a game.
I spent years carrying other people's fears and doubts, expected to prioritise their feelings and wellbeing over my own.
I spent years scared of growing up because the trans women I saw in movies and shows were always portrayed as leading tragic lives.
Whenever I watched the news, I would see trans kids being used as a political football; weaponised and dehumanised to generate fear and panic in the community.
All sides of politics are complicit in this.
Surely, when people say "let kids be kids", this is not what they mean?
There were, however, some key factors that helped me get through the darkest of times.
The first, is that I had a beautiful supportive family around me.
I always knew that no matter what happened at school, I could always come home and feel safe and loved.
My family were a constant source of strength and love when I was struggling.
In circumstances where I couldn't fight for myself, they stepped in and advocated for me.
The second, was access to gender affirming care.
Going to the Gender Service at the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne was integral to my health and wellbeing.
I met doctors who were compassionate and listened without judgment, doctors who knew how to look after me.
The medical sector can be a frustrating and sometimes dangerous place for trans people, so access to specialised care is vital.
Access to family support services can make all the difference for trans kids yet, these organisations are severely underfunded Australia-wide.
This impacts the work they do, and limits access to the support they provide.
Most organisations are run at a grassroots level by volunteers or are self-funded
But we can't do this alone anymore.
Without proper funding, vulnerable children are falling through the cracks.
Trans youth are more likely to suffer from mental health issues, such as depression or anxiety.
Trans people between 14 and 25 are 15 times more likely to attempt suicide.
This is not because we are trans. We are not the problem.
The problem is marginalization, lack of family support, lack of access to gender affirming healthcare and threats of violence and harassment.
Which is why we need your help.
An urgent boost in funding for specialist family support services will better equip them in supporting families of trans kids. The more support trans kids and their families have access to, the further we can reduce the risk factors that are contributing to the prevalence of mental health issues impacting trans youth.
With family support behind me, and access to gender affirming healthcare, I was finally able to look to the future and not be afraid.
As I entered my late teens, I was excited by the prospect of not just surviving, but thriving.
That's all I've ever wanted. Not to be doubted or shunned. Not to be bullied or attacked. Not to be weaponised or feared. Just to live. Happily and safely. To go to school and focus on learning. To be ambitious and excited for the future. To have agency over my own life. To love, and to be loved.
I think back to myself as a child, and my heart aches for her.
I wish I didn't have to spend so much of my childhood fighting for my rights.
I wish that when I played with my brother, it wasn't laced with escapism and longing.
I wish I didn't spend so much time trying to make myself smaller for other people's comfort.
The solution was really quite simple.
If adults truly listened to me, and I was able to be myself, then I could have just lived my life.
The trauma I've experienced in my life didn't happen because I am trans.
It sprouted from other people's fear and ignorance.
Every roadblock and pothole I have encountered on the road to adulthood hasn't been of my making.
Trans people are not the problem.
With your help, I have hope for the future that the next generation of kids won't have to fight so hard. That they can just live.
The road ahead is treacherous for families of trans kids, but it doesn't have to be.
Together, we can pave a safer one for those yet to come.
Thank you, Georgie.
