As a South Asian Australian, I’ve often been one of the only women of colour (WOC) in a room, both in professional and personal settings. My experience is far from unique – it’s utterly relatable to many WOC across various industries. Being the only one can feel lonely, almost humiliating. Sometimes I’ve questioned whether I even deserve to be there.
Picture this, I once did a media presentation in a room of 10 people. Eight of them were publicists, and happened to be white. My colleague was also white. Then there was me. As I began introducing myself at the top of the presentation, I started reciting my entire resume. It was only once I left the building that I realised I had felt – albeit subconsciously – the need to prove to these people that I’m actually qualified, and therefore deserve to be in the room.
Being the minority in these environments is a common occurrence, but that doesn’t mean that things should stay this way. What I’ve realised more in recent years is that while society is making some progress, change isn’t and probably won’t happen as quickly as I’d like it to. However, having a seat at the table is important, even if I’m the only WOC there. Being visible in a traditionally-white dominated space, and taking the floor to speak on issues that impact my community or women who look like me, can have an impact. Having said that, the onus shouldn’t always be on us as WOC either. We need allies, and good allyship entails listening, acknowledgment and action. This brings me to a recent example.
In March, I attended the 2025-2026 federal budget lockup alongside my Missing Perspectives colleague Phoebe. It was the first time that the federal government had invited a group of content creators and new media to Canberra to report on the budget, and a lot of traditional media outlets weren’t happy.
It was an amazing opportunity – but there was something that struck me. Of the 13 of us in the group, only two – myself and a journalist from another women’s publication – were WOC. Phoebe and I later wrote an article on Missing Perspectives about our overall Canberra experience, in which I wrote the following:
For our editorial lead, Alicia Vrajlal, who has also seen the other side working in traditional media in the past (Editor at HuffPost) having women of colour at the table is so important. Sitting in the main press conference with Treasurer Jim Chalmers and Minister for Women and Finance, Katy Gallagher, it was clear that there were relatively less women of colour who had a chance to ask a question.
As of June 2023, 30.7 per cent of Australia’s population was born overseas. Gen Z – whose sweeping demographic power will have more and more importance when it comes to policy-making – is the most racially and culturally diverse generation yet. So, if engaging new media and creators means that there is a greater diversity of voices in the room, then that’s surely a good thing.
Phoebe and I recently sat down with Governor-General, Her Excellency the Honourable Sam Mostyn AC in our studio for an interview. She happened to reference that article about the budget.
“I think Alicia, you described the lack of number of people of colour who had opportunities to ask questions. Now you noticed that, and we should listen to you noticing that, so that those of us in high public office don’t make that mistake by excluding,” she said.
“And so you’re teaching me in this role as a modern Governor-General, who should be at the table, who should come and ask questions and make sure we don’t apply any of our biases – however they’re formed – to exclude anyone in this democracy.
“So, I really enjoyed reading about your experience, and you’ll be bringing a new energy to the budget process… and politicians will have to respond and know that you’re going straight to a community of interest that really matters as voters.
“You fulfill something that I have always known to be true, which is at any table any of us are at, particularly if we have any authority or seniority, is to always ask ‘Who’s not here who should be?’… And the more people do that, whether it’s in government, the public sector, public private companies, corporates, not for profits [the better].“
As women of colour, we often accept the bare minimum because we’re longing to be seen and heard. When we receive even the smallest compliment or praise from white people in authoritative positions, we instantly feel grateful that we’ve been noticed.
When reflecting on the Governor-General’s comments, I questioned whether this applied. But as I said earlier, allyship means listening, acknowledgment and action, and it’s the first time I’d heard someone in such a position of power actually listening and acknowledging these particular concerns.
Since attending the budget lockup three months ago, I haven’t heard any high-profile politicians calling out the lack of women of colour reporting in the press gallery or otherwise. In acknowledging this, Sam Mostyn reminded me of the power I yield from having a seat at the table. It has only made me more determined.
With our voices, and more allies who genuinely listen and want change, we can gradually see more diverse women rightfully taking their seats at those tables.
