Speech Night Address by Ria Bhagat ('12)

This year’s guest speaker was Old Girl and former diplomat Ria Bhagat (’12), who was also this year’s Young Past Student of Distinction at the Past Student Awards. At Speech Night, Ria addressed all those in the room, most significantly, the Class of 2025, and shared the most poignant lessons she has learnt since her time at St Margaret’s.

“Principal Curtis and the staff of St Margaret’s; School Council; The Society of the Sacred Advent; President and members of the Old Girls’ Association; Proud parents, families and community members; Students, and in particular, Seniors. Good evening.

Thirteen years out of school, I’m pleased to report that getting an out-of-the-blue email from your School Principal asking you to call her will indeed evoke a mild sense of panic. I wasn’t a delinquent, but I wasn’t a Prefect either. I reunited with Ms Surtees earlier this evening, who reminded me of my penchant for being a chatterbox in primary school.

But thank you, Principal Curtis, for inviting me to be a part of this evening. It’s an honour to join this community to celebrate the year that has passed and congratulate the students and graduating Seniors on the hard work that is behind them.

My final Speech Night was particularly memorable, as I was a Master of Ceremony with my friend, Kate. It was fitting that my last role at St Margaret’s was as an MC, because I think the pipeline into diplomacy is being a jack of all trades and a master of none (the more flattering term to use here could be ‘all-rounder’ which I assume is what applies to Annie and Charlotte, our wonderful MCs this evening).

Though I lived only 400 metres from school, St Margaret’s taught me to be curious about the world, and to assume I was worthy of a role to play in it. I dressed up as Anne of Brittany in Year 8 History and built a fairly mediocre rocket in Year 11 Physics. Mr King taught me Japanese – some of which I’ve retained – and I met the first of many favourite complex female characters to come in Lady Macbeth.

I wasn’t particularly talented at any of these things, and I possibly lacked the attention span to square in on any one calling. It was only in Year 12 that I took up mooting; and for the most part I enjoyed that because of the girls I was teamed up with and the teacher who led us. Still, I found something alluring in working as a team: to problem-solve, advocate and influence. Plus, my older brother was already doing a law degree, so I figured I’d save money on the textbooks.

I’ve found myself working in foreign policy not by complete accident, but not by any long-held intention either. My most enriching experiences in uni were also the most challenging: facilitating legal workshops in Myanmar, building relationships with communities in rural Queensland (despite being a certified city slicker), or indeed, having to cold-call important people to get interviews for my journalism assignments. I realised I found joy in connection, the same way I did at St Margaret’s.

So, from a post-secondary school life that is the same age as a Year 7 student, I offer some reflections to the students here this evening.

To those who are getting honoured tonight: congratulations. One of the most memorable parts of Speech Night for me was not necessarily the night itself, but the assembly when awards were announced – and most specifically, the cascading applause and collective pride of the entire hall on that day. Enjoy this deserving recognition of your hard work.

To the students here this evening whose names may not be called individually: you are also being celebrated tonight, and I congratulate you with equal enthusiasm. Contributions – be it to your community, your family, or your friends – come in many different forms and will be recognised in different ways.

And for what it’s worth – I’ve yet to meet a St Margaret’s girl who peaked in high school, no matter how decorated her academic record, or senior collar may have been. The best is yet to come, I promise.

And perhaps no one knows that better than the class of 2025.

For you, in this whirlwind week of celebrations and farewells – I offer four suggestions for this turning point in your life. Irrespective of you retaining any of this speech, you might, in your own time and way, come to some similar conclusions.

1. Being kind is more important than being nice.

Being a diplomat is in some ways like being a good friend. It’s not about being liked all the time, nor is it about saying what you think people want to hear.

Your honesty is an asset, as is your assertiveness. Whether in foreign policy or in friendship, you cannot say yes every time you are asked to do something. It’ll burn you out and leave you jaded.

We’re often told we should speak out against injustice. Most of the books we read and movies we watch reinforce this, so you don’t need to hear me say you should speak up when you hear something that’s wrong.

But what I will encourage you to do, is to speak up when you hear something that sounds incorrect. Don’t always assume you’re the smartest in the room: but there will be moments when you sit there and wonder if anyone else is seeing the same risk that you are. Whether it’s weather contingency for delivering election ballots or reviewing a media plan that doesn’t include any local language – it’s kindness, not niceties, that will serve you in the long run.

2. Things will not go according to plan. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth having one.

I didn’t get my first preference for my university course – nor did I end up changing degrees as I thought I would. My experiences at QUT set me on a trajectory to meet people and make decisions that fundamentally altered the life and career I’d envisioned.

Your focus is precious, so: find what you love, and figure out a way to fill your life with it. Some of that will be in the workplace, but some of it won’t. It will certainly change over time. By being here, sitting in this room, and having completed your education you already have what many other people covet: options.

3. You miss 100 per cent of the shots you don’t take.

I have been so scared of failure, and of putting myself out there (I still am, to no small degree). But for much of high school, and even some of uni, I was seized with this idea that trying was embarrassing. In Year 11 I was so convinced I wouldn’t be accepted for Sony Camp that I left my application crumpled at the bottom of my school bag.

I’ll let you in on something however: I MCed Speech Night all those years ago because I asked Mrs Lishman if I could do it. I don’t know if she recalls it that way, but my time in St Margaret’s was near up, and I felt I hadn’t contributed much to the valedictory effort. Hopefully I was on the longlist; if not, this only proves my point.

You will face rejection and disappointment. You probably already have. Whether applying for graduate jobs or overseas postings, I’ve learnt that doors will close. But at any given time, you only need one door to open to keep moving forward.

4. In every stage of your life, take a moment to remember what you will be grateful for, and try not to take it for granted.

Across Australia and New Zealand, 45 per cent of parliamentary seats are held by women. In the rest of the Pacific, that figure drops to seven.

My time in St Margaret’s, a place that not only nurtures but normalises women in leadership, did not shelter me from what I would encounter in the world or the first decade of my career. Instead, I had the courage to navigate it and the confidence to know I deserved a seat at the table. To grow up being instilled with that courage, and with women as role models across politics, sport, STEM, education, business and so on – is a privilege I realise now I took lightly at the time.

The people are the most important thing about a place, and this school is no exception: the lifelong friends, the teachers with outsized impact. I am eternally lucky that my St Margaret’s journey started and continues to centre on family. My brother and sister-in-law are here this evening, and I do believe my parents are tuning in from overseas. I don’t think I was always effusive in thanking my parents for packing my lunches or attending every debate and tennis match, nor my brother for proofreading my assignments or tolerating my attitude. But it truly took a village, and I encourage you to reflect on who those people are for you.

Hopefully a few of them are here, or tuning in, to celebrate you tonight.

Seniors, students, staff and families – congratulations, and I wish you all the very best for whatever in the world might come next for you. I’ll be cheering you on. Thank you.”