In August 2022, exactly 48 hours after I announced that I was running for Parliament in Victoria, I was invited as a guest on Virginia Trioli’s ABC Radio Melbourne’s morning show. My decision to run as an independent in the marginal seat of Caulfield generated a ton of interest and Trioli and her listeners were keen to understand my policies and motivations.
Before that wintry morning, I had never been a guest on talkback radio, and had no idea what to expect. To say I was nervous was an understatement. Trioli peppered me with questions, and I did my best to answer.
Being a guest on live radio is a highly unpredictable environment. At one point, Trioli let me know that many listeners had written into the text line to say that my delivery sounded like I was reading.
“Bummer,” I thought, before quickly responding, “Well, I’ll take it as a compliment. I did a lot of debating in high school,” to which Trioli said: “I’m not so sure you should take it as a compliment, based on the feedback I’m getting.”
I remember wincing.
Before announcing my run, I was just a regular 30-something mother and mid-career professional from the suburbs. I grew up in a family that values hard work and giving back to the community. My dad was one of Victoria’s longest-serving prison chaplains and from a young age I was encouraged to enter a life of service. As a young adult I spent many years volunteering in all sorts of organisations, including with young people who have disabilities and with disadvantaged youth, and I founded a charity dedicated to the promotion of women in Judaism.
So I saw running for Parliament as an opportunity to continue serving and advocating for my community.
And yet, with less than an hour’s notice, and no media advice from a not-yet-fully formed fledgling local campaign team, I found myself on Trioli’s show being broadcast to thousands of listeners and being critiqued on the delivery of my responses. It was brutal and I felt ill-prepared.
While there is no single roadmap on how to run for Parliament, I wish I had known about Pathways to Politics. This year I am one of 30 Victorian women learning the ropes of what to expect when you run for office. I love that I am now part of a network of women who care deeply about the future of women in politics, who can provide support and advice and know what it is like to run for office.
Pathways to Politics was founded in 2016 by Carol Schwartz AO and is a three-month fellowship that aims to change the face of politics by equipping women with the skills, knowledge, confidence and networks they need to run for elected office and thrive as political leaders. It operates in every state and territory and has helped 31 women so far be elected to all levels of government.
The fellowship ensures that women who want to run for office have a sense of what to expect so that they feel more confident when putting their hand up, as you meet current and former politicians, media trainers, speechwriters and strategists.
I know firsthand how important and useful such training would have been before my race. In the first few weeks of my 2022 campaign there was no shortage of stories on the rookie mistakes I made, including problems with my political address for authorisations, accidentally having a donation limit on my website greater than the legal limit, and leaked documents from the Labor Party, my former party, on the front page of The Australian.
As a young female candidate, I also faced a unique level of scrutiny: my long red hair, which instantly became a focus for unsolicited feedback; as a mother of small children, people were keen to discuss my childcare arrangements. For most of my campaign I kept my fourth pregnancy quiet, not wanting additional sexist commentary on my suitability to run for office while bearing children.
If I had been made of lesser mettle, it is possible the pressure of these teething issues could have had me bow out of the race. Having friends and family support me was a lifesaver, but it sure would have been nice to have a group of mentors and a cohort of women support me through a complex and stressful period.
After I lost my race, the return to my normal life felt a little jarring. There were very few people to debrief and discuss my experiences with who truly understood the whirlwind I had been through. It took me a few months to feel like myself again.
If I decide to run again, I know I’d be better prepared — not just from the experience of running and losing an intense political race, but by having the training I need to succeed.
Plus through Pathways to Politics I’d also have 30 new friends from all political stripes and backgrounds to call on for advice or support. And that’s comforting and encouraging.
