Megan Davis first read the constitution at age 12. Now she wants to change it to give her people a Voice to Parliament
The small, beige-brick housing commission home sits unobtrusively on a corner block in Eagleby, in south-east Queensland.
It was here, some 36 years ago, that single mother Dawn Davis brought home a pile of second-hand books for her 12-year-old daughter, Megan Davis, who was home sick from school. Among them was John Kerr's Matters for Judgement.
Megan Davis (front) came from humble beginnings, but became fascinated with Australia's Constitution. (Supplied: Megan Davis )
It says a lot about Dawn that she thought the former governor-general's autobiography might be of interest to a child. But it says even more about her daughter that she read that book and developed an enduring fascination with the Australian Constitution.
"She carried the constitution around when she was a kid, which is just weird," recalls her sister Lucy, laughing. "She was always a nerd."
Today that girl, who went to school with just one shirt and holes in her shoes, is a professor of constitutional law, instrumental in a defining moment of Australian history. She is one of the architects of the Voice to Parliament, which will be put to the Australian people in a referendum later this year.
A Voice to Parliament would be a permanent body representing First Nations people that would advise government on policies and laws which impact their lives. And these days, Davis does it in pearls, lipstick and designer shoes.
Megan Davis, pictured here as a toddler with two of her brothers, is an expert in constitutional law. (Supplied: Megan Davis)
But she's never far from her roots. Last Sunday she was taking calls from the prime minister in the small bedroom she used to share with her sister in the modest home where she and her four siblings were raised.
For 12 years Ms Davis — a Cobble Cobble and South Sea Islander woman — has been sitting on expert panels, councils and working groups, dreaming of a time when the unique status of First Australians could be enshrined in the nation's constitution.
There have been countless frustrations and disappointments along the way and as the referendum draws closer the stakes have never been higher. No referendum has passed in this country without bipartisan support and the federal Opposition leader, Peter Dutton, is strongly advocating a 'no' vote.
For Ms Davis and the other architects of the Voice, there is still much work to be done.
"I feel emotional, and I feel tired," Ms Davis says.
Nevertheless, she remains "optimistic and hopeful" that Australians will listen to what she and other advocates of the Voice to Parliament have to say.
Megan Davis helped design First Nations Regional Dialogues with communities across Australia. (Supplied)
An 'obsession' with rugby league
If there's one thing Ms Davis is as passionate about as the Australian Constitution, it's rugby league. Watching her beloved Cowboys provides much-needed relief from the relentless pressure of her academic career and campaigning for the Voice.
"Rugby league has always been a big part of my life," she tells Australian Story.
"As kids we just stayed home and listened to rugby league on the radio all weekend."
Years later, when she was awarded a UN fellowship at the High Commissioner for Human Rights in Geneva, she would watch State of Origin games in the middle of Human Rights Council sittings.
"Megan is tragically obsessed with rugby league," says her friend, Kamilaroi woman, Louise Taylor, who studied alongside Ms Davis at university and is now a magistrate in Canberra.
"She's as capable of discussing the Cowboys' chances in the 2023 season as she is of talking about the jurisprudence in relation to the Australian Constitution."
For Ms Davis, it's a life-long passion that has grown into something more. In 2016 she started writing about the importance of rugby league in terms of reconciliation and social cohesion, and consequently was invited to sit on the Australian Rugby League Commission.
"It's a sport that so many of us who come from low socio-economic homes support because it's a game where other kids come from backgrounds like you," she says. "It's been inclusive not just in terms of the poor, but also Aboriginal people."
Rugby league has always played a huge part in the life of Megan Davis (left), pictured here with sister Lucy. (Supplied)
'This is who I am': Giving a voice to the voiceless
Growing up poor was a formative experience for Ms Davis.
"It's part of who I am," she says.
"Mum trained our eye acutely to the impact decisions made in Canberra on budget night, and at election time, had on us as the underclass.
"Mum was on the single-parent pension and we used to watch her budgeting. She had a little book with a little pen, and she would be working out the cost of everything."
Ms Davis is the middle of five children, born to a white mother and black father. "Mum was Nicole Kidman-white, and my dad was Sidney Poitier-black", her sister, Lucy Davis, says.
"It was a time and era where interracial relationships weren't allowed."
Megan Davis says growing up poor was a formative experience for her and her siblings. (Supplied: Megan Davis )
Ms Davis's grandfather was Aboriginal and her grandmother a South Sea Islander, brought over from Vanuatu to work in the sugar cane fields as part of a decades-long practice of indentured labour.
Around the time of Federation, her grandfather was herded onto a mission. "My family were on the Cherbourg mission," Ms Davis explains. "It was compulsory racial segregation – brutal subjugation."
Dawn, Ms Davis's mother, was a teacher and a fierce advocate for her children, working hard to give them opportunity. She separated from her husband when Ms Davis was 11, and remembers having to hide her dark-skinned children when she applied for a rental property.
Megan Davis's mum, Dawn and dad, Alfred. (Supplied)
The family moved to a three-bedroom housing commission home in Eagleby, in south-east Queensland.
It's where her mother still lives and where Ms Davis continues to gravitate. Although she lives in Sydney, Ms Davis insisted on doing her interview for Australian Story in her mother's small brick home.
"This is who I am," she explains. "This house and my mother, because she's the most significant person in my life."
Inside the house, the pale green walls are filled with photos, family memorabilia and, most notably, books.
Shelves and shelves groaning with books.
"Mum was a prolific reader," Davis says. "We grew up with her always reading. She always had a novel on the go."
Matriarch Dawn Davis is likened to "a royal figure" in the family. (Australian Story: Marc Smith)
Money was tight growing up and Dawn would search for books in second-hand shops. "We couldn't afford many things but Mum did have a subscription to the Australian newspaper," Davis recalls. "We would read it over the breakfast table and talk about issues with Mum."
Dawn was a firm believer in public service, Ms Davis says, and about using your knowledge and opportunities to serve others.
"She often talked about the importance of professionals in serving the poor and helping the underclass and the downtrodden," she explains.
All five Davis children now do work that involves service to the community.
Dawn (centre) pictured with her children when they were teenagers. (Supplied: Megan Davis)
"Giving voice to the voiceless, that's something we always talked about," Dawn says.
As a schoolteacher, Dawn understood the importance of education and the household was fiercely academic. Weekends were spent buried in schoolbooks, with occasional interruptions to play sport outside or watch rugby league. At school, Ms Davis competed with her brother Willy, who was nine months younger and in the same year, to see who could top the class.
After high school, she studied law at the University of Queensland. In her final year she got an internship at the Human Rights Council in Geneva. Struck by how qualified her overseas peers were, she threw herself into academia on her return, doing a Masters and PhD in quick succession.
Dawn taught Megan Davis and her siblings to give a voice to the voiceless. (Australian Story: Marc Smith)
An 'incredible double act'
Ms Davis has been involved in the pursuit of constitutional recognition for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders for more than a decade. "Like many of our mob she has mastered the art of patience," Ms Taylor says.
In the process she has had to overcome her natural aversion to the spotlight. "I'm very introverted," Ms Davis says. "I've had to learn to do that work. The mob have always said, 'We didn't go to uni, you did. You need to talk up.'"
"Megan's really shy," confirms advocate and activist Pat Anderson, an Allaywarre woman from Darwin.
"But she's got this great brain, an amazing voice. You know when she talks everyone listens."
Ms Anderson and Ms Davis met in 2015 when then-prime minster Malcolm Turnbull set up a Referendum Council to advise parliament on how to recognise Indigenous Australians in the constitution. They hit it off immediately and have become a formidable pair.
"We did seem to bond fairly quickly," Ms Anderson says. "I think that comes from a similar kind of background that we're used to not taking 'no' for an answer."
"Watching Aunty Pat and Megan support each other and become this really incredible double act has been wonderful to watch," Ms Taylor says. "And I know it's a relationship that they both have come to treasure."
Ms Anderson is in awe of Ms Davis's intelligence and work ethic.
"I don't know anyone who works as hard as Megan," she says. "She sends me emails at three in the morning. She can write an opinion piece on her phone in the back of a taxi."
She's less impressed, however, with Ms Davis's timekeeping. "She has got no concept of time," she says with weary disbelief. "That's the one thing that drives me to distraction. I can't imagine why she has to be late all the time."
Megan Davis and Pat Anderson are a formidable duo. (Supplied: James Hunt)
'The people society doesn't hear'
Ms Davis, Ms Anderson and lawyer and Indigenous activist, Noel Pearson, were integral to the national consultation process that took place following the establishment of the Referendum Council. This involved holding 12 dialogues with Indigenous communities around the country to consider what constitutional recognition meant to First Nations people.
"This was Megan putting the case together about what Indigenous people wanted," Mr Pearson says. "And it really opened my eyes to what self-determination is."
Ms Davis says talking to people in remote communities sparked a passion in her.
"They weren't affluent, middle-class people; these were like people like I was growing up. People struggling. There were people who live in poverty, people who are poor, and they are people that society doesn't hear. They are the people saying that they're voiceless and no one listens to," she says.
Megan Davis travelled the country to gather the views of Indigenous Australians. (Supplied: James Hunt)
"No-one had gone out to communities and asked them, 'What does meaningful recognition look like to you and your community?' And the answer wasn't a symbolic piece of recognition, a few words in the constitution. No, our people wanted something that would make a difference, something empowering. That's where the Voice came from."
This six-month dialogue process resulted in the Uluru Statement from the Heart, which recommended, among other things, a constitutionally enshrined Indigenous Voice to Parliament. It would be an advisory body comprised of Indigenous representatives from around the country who would advise parliament on matters of concern.
"Everything we tried in the past had been done away with the stroke of a pen," Ms Anderson says. In contrast this proposal would represent 'real structural change which wouldn’t be erased with a change of government'."
Shortly after the Uluru statement was released, the council met with then-prime minister Malcolm Turnbull to explain the recommendations. The meeting did not go well, and Turnbull came out publicly against the idea of a Voice to Parliament, arguing that it would be seen as a third chamber of parliament and wouldn't have the support of the Australian people.
"He called it overreach, which we contested," Ms Davis says. "The fact that there was no discussion, no parliamentary committee, nothing, no debate, and to just shut down eight years of work on constitutional recognition — that was upsetting."
"You heard plain English come out of Malcolm Turnbull's lips: 'This is dead. Uluru is dead. Dead and gone'. That's the bit that Megan refused to hear," Mr Pearson says with a wry chuckle.
Mr Turnbull has since changed his position and now supports a Voice to Parliament.
"Megan kept the fire of Uluru burning," Mr Pearson continues. "She is a very stubborn person. Without somebody like her I don't think we could have reached the point that we have reached."
The campaign begins
In May last year, five years after the Uluru statement, Labor won the Federal Election.
As incoming Prime Minister Anthony Albanese took the stage to acknowledge the win, he committed his government to the statement in full. "We can answer," he said, "it's a patient, gracious call for a Voice to Parliament enshrined in the constitution."
A year later, much of that euphoria has waned. Last week the Federal Senate cleared the way for a referendum on the Voice later this year but it hasn't been an easy path for those advocating for a yes vote and it will be a hard-fought campaign.
The campaign against the 'yes' vote is gathering momentum. The Opposition argues that the Voice is divisive because it confers special rights on one group of people. Others in the 'no' camp say it doesn't go far enough and are calling for a Treaty first.
The Senate chamber erupted in applause as president Sue Lines announced the result of the Voice to Parliament referendum bill — 52 votes in support, 19 votes against. (ABC News: Luke Stephenson )
Ms Davis, however, remains undaunted.
"You can't go into law reform thinking you're not going to win and that you're not going to get it, because otherwise what's the point?" she says.
"It's Australians rolling up their sleeves and going, 'You know what? Those guys in Canberra aren't going to look after us, but we'll look after each other'. And I can hear people saying, 'Megan, you're being a Pollyanna', but there's something at the core of that, and it's that element that my mum used to talk to us about and imbued in us – that part of the Australian spirit."
Although the date of the referendum has not been announced, Ms Davis is sure it will be after the NRL grand final, and for that she's thankful.
"Well, I don't want a referendum on the same day that my team wins the grand final," she says. "It's too much for one day."
Watch Australian Story's A Voice From the Heart on ABC iview.
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