Diverse young leaders are the inspiring lifeblood of communities.

When I walk down the hallways of my Catholic private school, I see upper middle-class kids with pristine hair and pretty jewellery, polished shoes and Frank Green water bottles. They’re loud and overt and fill up the room with their confidence. Everyone likes to look at them; they’re fashionable.

When I gaze up at our leaders, policy makers and influencers, I see men in suits with so much money my eyes might water. They’re loud and overt and fill up the media with their wealth and influence. Everyone likes to look at them; they’re what we’re supposed to aspire to.

When I walk down the street of my regional city, I see ransacked buildings and closed businesses, yelling and violence and vandalism. Broken glass and wailing sirens. They’re loud and overt and fill me with fear. Everyone looks at them, then looks away. They’re glad it’s not them.

When I go to the foreshore, I see homeless people sitting alone, aimless and removed, on benches or the ground, shopping trolleys nearby. I see the department of housing go up in flames. I see Facebook posts about evictions and desperate families seeking a home. They’re quiet, as if their presence has become that of old furniture in a dusty antique store. No one likes to look at them. No one seems to notice them. No one is brave enough to meet their eyes.

Modern Australia is a melting pot of disparity. In an age where social media is seemingly inescapable, the separation between what we like to look at and what we don’t is stark and abrasive. In my town alone there are millionaires and homeless people, Indigenous Australians and refugees, starving kids and childhood obesity. The Australia that we like to look at, that’s convenient, is not reality. In rural and regional communities, the ‘unsightly’ is even easier to ignore.

Yet what was ‘unsightly’ 50 years ago is now accepted, valued and loved. The place of women in influential positions, or LGBTQIA+ acceptance and celebration, was unheard of, and is now welcomed in much of society. Why? Because of strong, young leaders who chose to use their voices and champion their diversity. It’s because of leaders such as Malala Yousafzai, who championed girls’ education while still a girl herself. It’s because of Mary Shelly, who dared step into a domain she was not welcome in at only 19, and proceeded to dominate and inspire for generations onwards. It’s because of the everyday heroes, the basketballers or community PCYC workers or the locals who wear ally badges to let everyone they interact with know that it’s ok, that they matter.

Diverse young leaders inspire those around them to use their own voices, and let them know that they are not a waste of space, or unsightly or unseen. By simply being, they validate and encourage the presence of those who are not like everyone else, who question their worth, potential and identity. Visible and diverse young leaders encourage others to achieve their potential, give hope to the marginalised that they are worth it, that they can achieve. Young people gazing up at athletes or politicians or musicians or even local community organisations and seeing someone like them achieve a success that was thought impossible is instrumental.

It is through diverse young people that choose to use their voices and lead others that society is enabled to flourish, others are inspired and progressive, meaningful change occurs. That is the strengthening impact of diverse young people in communities.