Ms TRISH DOYLE (Blue Mountains) (19:46): I think we all had an expectation that 2022 was going to be a better year—it had to be. After two years of global immobilisation at the hands of a pandemic and off the back of drought, fires and floods, things just had to be better. After years of sadness, sacrifice, segregation and fear, we were all ready for the tides to turn and for life to get easier again. COVID has most certainly not disappeared, but it has stopped dominating the daily headlines. It felt as though we were returning to normal, although an altered kind of normal.

In February Putin invaded Ukraine, and the fear started to bubble up again. The source of the world's instability shifted from a deadly virus back to the almost-forgotten threat of nuclear warfare and a growing awareness that life can be tentative and fleeting—and then came the floods. The floods that have particularly and badly impacted south-east Queensland and the Northern Rivers of New South Wales have been devastating. The loss and the heartbreak felt by communities in the flood zones is profound. The floods came so fast that in some areas, people had no time to evacuate. They climbed into roof cavities and onto rooftops. Lives were lost. Homes and lifetimes of memories were lost, washed away, leaving behind heartbreak, despair and the stench of a flood that has left people feeling shattered and their towns forever changed.

The silver lining that emerges from such tragedy is the way in which communities pull together. In the absence of timely government support and adequate boots on the ground to assist, members of the community rise to the challenge. Members will all have seen images of the sculpture in downtown Lismore: a big red heart held up out of the floodwaters by giant hands. The symbolism of that is profound. Lismore and other affected regions have a big heart and they are resilient, but facing a disaster of this magnitude erodes resilience. People are broken, lives are broken and there is so much more to be done to mitigate the effects of climate-induced disasters.

Disaster preparedness is crucial if we are going to have the ability to flourish in the face of adversity, and we will inevitably need to continue dealing with such situations in the future. These events are not precedented at all; this is our world now. Those shattered communities have had enough of post-disaster platitudes, and they are losing faith. They are losing hope in State and Federal Coalition governments that seem completely disconnected from the lived experiences of those around them. After the 2019-20 Black Summer fires, how could they not get the response right this time? We have had the inquiries; we have seen the recommendations. What we need now is to create communities that go into the next fire or flood season feeling better prepared. There is no denying that recovery is crucial; however, people need governments that support and fund approaches that are pre‑emptive rather than this continual, clumsy mopping-up that takes place post-trauma.

In my own electorate of the Blue Mountains, we are all too familiar with the impacts of adverse climate events on a community—drought, fires and floods over and over again. We are also all too familiar with governments that seem incapable of directing essential funding where needed. For example, after the Black Summer fires, the residents of Bilpin and Mount Tomah applied for a grant to pay for a water pump for the creek, a bore for extra water and storage tanks—to give them the best possible chance for survival next time the worst case scenario unfolds. They were knocked back, but don't worry—funding was awarded to an out-of-area community group to provide dance lessons in Bilpin, which I imagine will be immensely helpful next time catastrophic fires rip through their community.

Disastrous climate events are not going away; they will get more frequent and more severe. Climate change is real, and if this State and this nation cannot be led by governments that acknowledge that fact and act accordingly then we have no hope. The long-term effects of trauma must never be underestimated. Many in flood‑affected areas are furious and frustrated by State and Federal Coalition governments. They are angry about a slow response to help. Recovery has been a citizen-led effort. There are families in New South Wales who feel abandoned; communities still feel abandoned after the Black Summer fires. Members need to remember that trauma, heartbreak and loss do not diminish once the news cameras stop rolling. Finding solutions for the management of those experiences, before, during and after, needs long-term commitment that extends beyond the next election cycle.

I acknowledge my colleague Tamara Smith, MP, and her Ballina community and their struggles. Finally, my NSW Labor colleague the member for Lismore, Janelle Saffin, and her team are brave, selfless and compassionate. She has set aside her own losses and stepped up to offer continual, unfaltering support to her community throughout this deeply challenging time. You are loved and you are cherished, Janelle, and we support you. We will see you through this.