Wednesday, 4 March 2026
St John's College, University of Sydney
Her Excellency the Honourable Margaret Beazley AC KC

Bujari gamarruwa

Diyn Babana Gamarada Gadigal Ngura

In greeting you in the language of the Gadigal, Traditional Owners of the land on which we gather, I pay my respects to their Elders past, present, and emerging.

The greater institution of which St John’s College is a part, the University of Sydney, was established by Act of Parliament on 1 October 1850, given Royal Assent by Sir Charles Fitzroy, the 10^th Governor of NSW.

The Act’s preamble, in its terms, was a beacon of the Enlightenment, in stating that,

[…] it is deemed expedient for the better advancement of religion and morality and the promotion of useful knowledge, to hold forth to all classes and denominations of Her Majesty’s subjects resident in the Colony of New South Wales, without any distinction whatsoever, an encouragement for pursuing a regular and liberal course of education…^[1]

In 1854, the University Affiliated Colleges Act^[2] was passed, providing that the then four main Christian denominations in the Colony—Anglican, Catholic, Presbyterian, and Methodist—were entitled to Government assistance, as well as land on campus, to establish residential colleges for the University, on the proviso those denominations first raise at least ₤10,000.^[3]

These two colonial statutes placed Sydney University well ahead of the game; at the time, Catholics were not permitted to study or be employed at either Oxford or Cambridge. The irony is, of course, that the establishment of both—Oxford in 1096 and Cambridge in 1209^[4]—predated the reformation, and, hence, they were founded as Catholic institutions. It would not be until the passage of United Kingdom’s Universities Tests Act in 1871^[5] that Catholics, as students and academics, were entitled to fully return.

Here, in the Colony, the Anglicans (“the United Church of England and Ireland”) were first to seize the opportunity of the University Affiliated Colleges Act, with the incorporating Act for St Paul’s College being passed in 1854^[6], and its foundation stone laid on the 25th of January 1856, the anniversary of the conversion of St Paul.^[7]

Sydney’s Catholic population was stirred into action a year later, in August 1857, at a clamorous “aggregate meeting of the Sydney Catholic archdiocese”^[8] held in old St Mary’s Cathedral, when a subscription drive was launched to raise the necessary funds for a Catholic College. As Sydney’s first Archbishop, the Most Reverend John Bede Polding, explained, the imperative for the proposed college, which was to be named by him in honour of the author of the fourth Gospel, was, in his words, this:

…a noble University had been established, where education of the highest order may be imparted. But of what value will this institution be to us if we have not the key to open the door to enable us to enter its precincts? (Cheers.) And this college will be the key to admit us.^[9]

Also speaking at the 1857 meeting, and urging contributions to the cause, was John Hubert Plunkett, President of the Legislative Council at the time. Plunkett, when Solicitor General, had drafted the 1836 Church Act of NSW, which established legal equality between Anglicans, Catholics and Presbyterians.^[10]

Within 4 months, the St John’s College Act 1857 had been given assent;^[11] and within 12 months, the required ₤10,000 raised.^[12] Eighteen months after that, on the 3rd of January 1860, the foundation stone to Australia’s first Catholic, and second residential, University College had been blessed and laid.^[13]

Fast forward almost a century and a half, 141 years to be exact, and the once unthinkable happened: St John’s became co-residential.

But let me remain focussed for the minute on the chronology and intersperse it with a little of Oxbridge history.

Although women could study in a limited capacity at both Oxford and Cambridge in the late 1800s, they were not permitted to graduate. A loophole opened, however, in 1904, when Trinity College in Dublin began conferring degrees upon women. Pre-existing arrangements between Trinity, Oxford, and Cambridge, in which graduates could receive equivalent degrees upon payment of a fee, meant women who'd studied in England could travel to Dublin—the so-called ‘steam-boat ladies’— to claim qualifications for a little over ₤10.^[14]

It would not be until 1920 that Oxford would finally fully admit women to its degrees,^[15] and, even then, quotas restricting their enrolment to numbers less than a quarter of their male counterparts were not lifted until 1957.^[16]

Cambridge was even tardier, not admitting women until 1947, with the first female recipient of a Cambridge degree being the Queen Mother, who received her Honorary Doctor of Laws (LLD) from Cambridge the following year, in 1948.^[17]

Here in Sydney, with the University’s first students enrolled in 1852, it took 30 years before the University passed a resolution to ‘allow’ women to be enrolled, notwithstanding that the preamble to the University’s enabling statute referred to “all … of her Majesty’s subjects”.^[18]

The legal scholars in the room might be quick to point out that those words only appeared in the preamble, which is not part of the substantive law-making sections of an Act. However, the whole point of a preamble, in statutory terms, is to explain the legislature’s intent—the scope and purpose of the Act. Add to that that that statutory language, unless the context indicates otherwise, is to be understood according to its ordinary meaning. What was not clear about the intent of the words was that a university education was to be available to “all classes and denominations of her Majesty’s subjects”.

Now, much of this may be put down to the male-dominated mores of the time, or at least, that might be put forward as an argument. Women in Australia until the end of 19th century didn’t have the right to vote and limited property and marital rights.

But to me, ‘there’s the rub’. If women had so called full participatory rights in choosing the government from the late 19th century, why did it take so long, and so much more agitation, for societal normality to be achieved where women and men were equal?

For example, with the female franchise achieved in NSW in 1902, it took 16 years before women were ‘allowed’ to be members of the Legislative Assembly, or lawyers, or judges, or Lord Mayors—the subtext—even though we have allowed you to vote—you’re not entitled to make the decisions that men make. It was as nakedly blatant as that.

Why, given that women were ‘allowed’ to attend universities—and therefore needed to matriculate—did it take 137 years for the state education policy to provide the same subject choice to females as it did to males—in essence providing girls with cooking classes, euphemistically known as ‘domestic science’ and boys with industrial arts? It took a hard-fought case before the Equal Opportunity Tribunal^[19] involving a female and male twin to bring the point home—and even then, the Department of Education, having roundly lost, resisted a costs order.

There are many reasons for domestic science to be available for both sexes. The point is the lack of choice that was specifically denied to females.

Which brings me to just a few experiences of my own: such as being challenged just before commencing Law School, that I had taken the place of one of the males in my wider friendship group; sitting in Constitutional Law classes having all females referred to as ‘girlie’; overhearing a conversation between the same Constitutional Law professor and a male student asking ‘what are they all doing here?’… there were about 12 of us. The fellow student’s reply? “Oh, they’re looking for a husband”; not being able to get a bar jacket from the then only supplier in Sydney—David Jones.

My particular beef as a young barrister was that the male barristers ‘dictated’ that if I had to be in chambers at all—and certainly not their chambers—then I could do family law… again, this sense of control and deprivation of choice to develop a practice in the areas that I was interested in. Or to walk into Friday afternoon drinks and not be introduced, as all the male barristers were.

And then, having been appointed to the Court of Appeal, being told “we couldn’t have you earlier because we didn’t have female judge’s toilets.” Well, they did—every set of Judge’s chambers has its own bathroom. Why would that even be said?

And then, when it was decided to have weekly judge’s meetings starting the following Monday, I explained that was the only day of the week where, as a single mother (and the only female), I didn’t have assistance to get my still primary-school-aged children to school. At that first meeting, the judges voted to have the meeting on a Monday anyway, but not on a Tuesday, when a male judge had a bible class to attend.

How, one might ask could that happen if it didn’t involve a deeply ingrained attitudinal outlook that couldn’t comprehend what a different experience of parenting and working was like... and they were Judges!

Let me conclude by posing a few questions: If the language of a statute or a regulation, or a resolution excludes one section of the population, or one group within the population that can be changed—but how does one achieve long term attitudinal change so that what should be normal is normal?

If attitudes persist where one group in society feel they have a ‘right’ to control or dictate, or decide for others based on their own attitudes, lifestyle, or experience, to what extent does that spill over into other sections of the community—is that why, or where, domestic violence raises its ugly head?

To what extent does cocooning ourselves in what might seem our own natural community—whether that be a male and/or female group, a faith-based community, or a professional community—limit our understanding of those around us and potentially, in doing so, continue to limit or restrict their rights at worst, or make them feel like outsiders in our community?

As I said at the showing of an Australian Afghan women’s documentary on Monday, “hate is not the real enemy in our society—shocking and debilitating and unacceptable though that is—ignorance is... because with ignorance comes exclusion.” ‘Ignorance’ after all, comes from the verb ‘ignore’… the point being that ignorance can operate, and often does, to justify exclusion.

I have spoken tonight about the importance of choice, or, perhaps more accurately, not being delimited by others in the choices one should have personally, educationally, and professionally available.

Which brings me back to our reason for being here tonight.

Wesley College was the first established co-residential college at Sydney University in 1969,^[20] but with the advantage of being a new college without a Titanic-type history to turn around.

In Oxford, some male colleges began to admit females in 1974^[21]… a reaction, I’ve been told anecdotally, to Oxford realising that it was missing out on some of the best brains in the world.

To its credit, and I am sure great pride, of the older Sydney University Colleges, the three founded in the decade-and-a-half after the University Affiliated Colleges Act, it was St John’s that lead the way.^[22] Coincidentally, that was the same year that the first woman to become Governor of NSW, Professor Dame Marie Bashir, was appointed.

I also note with some irony: of the 36 Governors prior to Dame Marie, 20—including Sir William Denison, who proclaimed the establishment of your College—had the privilege of representing, at least for some of their term, a female sovereign.^[23]

As we look back on this past 25 years, we can only wonder what all the fuss and resistance was about. What we can we say both about institutions and personally? Whilst our past shapes us, it should not define us.

The admission of women to St John’s College 25 years ago, in my mind, brought to fruition Archbishop Polding’s understanding that the college was the “key to open the door to enable us to enter [the] precincts [of the University]”.^[24]

I congratulate St John’s on the 25th anniversary of the admission of women to this College,

Thank you.