When Grace Tame was crowned Australian of the Year, Rosie Batty was among a small group of people who really knew what she was in for.
Six years earlier, in 2015, she had stood in Canberra and received the same honour. And while the circumstances that brought both women there were different, they were united by a common experience: both had found themselves thrust into the spotlight as a result of violence inflicted by men.
Tame had been groomed and sexually abused by her former school teacher, leading her to advocate on behalf of other survivors. Batty had become an outspoken advocate against family and domestic violence after her 11-year-old son, Luke, was murdered by his father in 2014.
"I knew this would happen," Batty says, reflecting on the backlash Tame has received over the past 12 months. "You're representing a social issue, and backlash is inevitable because you are standing up and speaking out on an issue people are challenged by."
While Tame's tenure as Australian of the Year was punctuated by criticism of the government, which she accused of failing to take the issue of sexual violence seriously, Batty took a different approach: "I've always felt gratitude and surprise that I've found myself invited into the corridors of power."
Such an outlook didn't shield her from critical commentators and social media trolls. In one particularly public example, Mark Latham accused her of "demonising men" and her advocacy of "causing more harm than good".
But Batty says the most harmful comments were those victim-blaming: instead of focusing on the tragedy of Luke's death, people began asking what more she could have done to stop him from being murdered.
She believes this was partly because she didn't live up to the standard of an imagined "ideal victim", someone who is "contrite and subordinate" rather than persevering and vocal. It's a lens that could also be applied to much of the backlash directed towards Tame.
"There was a lot of criticism about me in the general public, from people who didn't trust my grief," Batty says.
"Because in their mind if I was good mother, I wouldn't be able to get up, I wouldn't be able to function … and we certainly don't expect people to be angry, to be volatile.
"But you don't necessarily want people to see you at your most vulnerable, when you're losing your shit, when you're a mess."
The absence of backlash, Batty says, would have meant the advocacy both she and Tame are so passionate about wasn't cutting through. But its inevitability, as she sees it, doesn't mean it's easy to deal with.
"Even though you try not to look, there are elements that will stick," she says. "It eats at you."
On the other side of the microphone
Dealing with media attention as a trauma survivor is complicated; on one hand, Batty says, it's an essential tool for advocates to reach the people needed to make the change they seek. For her, diving head-first into advocacy and "making the most of the time she had" was also an important coping mechanism in the wake of Luke's death.
"I needed to feel I was doing something so he didn't die in vain," she says.
On the other hand, rehashing trauma and opening yourself up to public scrutiny takes a heavy toll. "People who cared about me were really concerned because they felt the media would be manipulative and exploitative," she says of those first few months. "You are in shock, you're vulnerable, and you're not discerning — you'll almost talk to anyone that will listen to you."
After years of answering questions, Batty is now on the other side of the microphone. In her new role as host of ABC's One Plus One, she's found herself reflecting on the responsibility that comes with asking people to open up about the most painful moments of their lives.
The new series, which debuted on Thursday, highlights "accidental leaders" — Australians who, like Batty, were unexpectedly thrust into the spotlight after horrific violence or acts of bravery.
The eight-part series includes conversations with writer and artist Amani Haydar, whose mother was killed by her father in 2015, comedian Hannah Gadsby, domestic violence campaigner Russell Vickery, and Thai cave rescuer Dr Richard 'Harry' Harris.
In one episode, she speaks with Walter Mikac, a gun control advocate who lost his wife and two daughters in the Port Arthur massacre. She describes the act of asking people to share details of such an intimate and horrifying experience as an "intimate intrusion".
"We ask so much of each other," she says. "I was very mindful that it's 30-odd years since he lost his family and we're asking questions again about those intimate and painful memories."
Batty does not claim to be a journalist, nor does she count herself among former One Plus One hosts like Stan Grant and Barrie Cassidy, but she hopes her experience allows for a different kind of conversation: one that arises through a shared understanding of grief.
"The conversations you can have with people when you have been through experiences that others can't even begin to imagine, there is a way you can share that with people that not everyone is able to do," she says.
Finding your voice in the spotlight
The first episode delves into the question of what we expect from the "ordinary" people we elevate into the spotlight.
Anaesthetist and cave diver Dr Richard 'Harry' Harris was named joint Australian of the Year in 2019 alongside his friend and diving partner Craig Challen. The honour recognised their role in the 2018 Tham Luang cave rescue, a dangerous operation that ultimately saved the lives of 12 young boys and their football coach.
Without a clear agenda or cause behind him, he describes the pressure to "do something" with the platform. "We weren't fighting for some cause, we were just in the right place at the right time and happened to have this skill that was of use," he tells Batty. "There's huge pressure to pick up this gauntlet, run with it and do something admirable."
But the conversation between the two former Australians of the Year also reveals the stark difference between their experience in the public eye. Asked whether he had withstood any criticism after the award, the "short answer" was no. "My skin would not be thick enough, I would really suffer under that tirade of abuse," he says.
Despite the cost of advocating as a survivor, Batty says she's proud to have played a role in opening up the discussion around family and domestic to people with lived experience.
"If we deny people that opportunity [to speak out], we're really denying them the opportunity for their own recovery as well," she says. "But we're still working on guidelines of how that can be done in a meaningful, effective and genuine way without victim-survivors feeling either not heard, re-traumatised, or taken advantage of."
The recent advocacy of Grace Tame, Brittany Higgins, and other survivors has brought the urgency of these questions to the fore. "It doesn't get much bolder than initiating an event at the Press Club and vocally criticising the most influential people with the most power in the country," she says. "That takes a lot of grit."
She also sees the new wave of survivor-advocates, and the widespread support they've received, as signs of progress. "There's still the critics, but it's really reinvigorated feminism for young women," she says. "There's always going to be things that remind you of how far we've got to go, but you've got to look for the encouraging signs."
Asked whether there's a common thread among people who choose to use their experiences as fuel to fight for change, Batty isn't sure. Some of it comes down to character, she speculates, and a lot of it depends on timing and opportunity.
"I suppose, in the end, we just made the decision to do it."
One Plus One airs on ABC TV and iview at 9.30pm on Thursdays. Watch the first episode on iview.
