Dawn comes to this country like to no other place on Earth. In the soil of the land she learns her colours. The dusty fire of her passion scorches the skin of our skies and reveals the deep blue flesh above. Those are the real colours of this country, the colours of its dawn.
I'm Australian and I don't believe in a white Australia. Colours of this sort don't matter—after an hour out in this sun we're all just shades of brown.
I'm Australian. I love this island continent, and I respect every person on it, because they're part of it.
I'm Australian, and I know the spirit of this country is not represented in the spite and malice of a misled few.
I'm Australian, and I believe in freedom of speech. The freedom to say anything. Because I believe we can judge for ourselves.
I'm Australian, and I share the lands of the Koori and the Murri, the Nunga and the Noongar, the Anangu and the Yolngu. On a dirt track, on a highway, on a street corner, when I look around and realise that this is Aboriginal land, the place grows rich and hushed with meaning.
I'm Australian—not because I believe in this country's past, and not because I don't—I'm Australian because I believe in our future. We're young, and I reckon we're the future of the world.
You know what it means to be Australian? Step outside on a seething January night and listen. One cicada, it's just making a racket. But in multitudes, with some pitching high, some pitching low, some hesitating, some droning on and on and on—that's the song of the land. That's the song of love, and it takes a chorus to sing it.
Sing it with me.