Changing Perspectives... on why Representation & Allyship Matter

Hi, I’m Pia. I’m half Italian, half Australian, a mother of two boys, and the Managing Director of PHD Sydney.

I’ve always felt like I’ve had it pretty good. I was raised by parents who supported my education and encouraged me to be the best I could be. I had a fiercely feminist high school principal who fostered a “girls can do anything they bloody want!” culture. So, I started my career assuming the world was my oyster, coming from a position of privilege – middle class, well-educated, a university degree, and a hunger to learn.

I was promoted twice while on maternity leave – once for each child – and I carved a path that felt natural and, honestly, pretty easy.

But it wasn’t until I began to reflect on my privilege and explore topics like diversity that I started getting curious, motivated to learn more, and to do better. I also became comfortable with calling out unfairness and prejudice and fighting for what’s right.

Growing up in an Italian-Australian household, I spent a lot of time with my Nonna and Nonno, cooking and eating Italian food, watching Italian films, growing vegetables in their garden, and learning to speak the language – which, sadly, I’ve lost a bit of in midlife. Many of my friends came from Italian, Greek or Lebanese migrant families, so we shared a common story.

I got my start in media as a receptionist at Starcom over 22 years ago. It felt like stepping into an adult wonderland compared to my sheltered upbringing. It was fun and free, a world I hadn’t experienced before. I learned quickly, moved into a media assistant role, and began climbing the ranks.

I love media, and I’m fortunate to have a natural confidence that allowed me to feel comfortable voicing my opinion. I’ve always felt at ease in most rooms I’ve been in, but that’s been a conscious decision – to show up, speak up, and believe in myself.

Over time, I realised that not everyone in the media industry shared my experience. Having supportive, inclusive bosses certainly helped, but the industry still has an entrenched “boys’ club” mentality that’s hard to shift.

In the past 10 years, as I’ve taken on senior roles and become a mother – and later a single mother – I’ve had to build my resilience and work on setting clear boundaries at work. I want to set an example for women in media that it’s possible to have both a family and a fulfilling, demanding career. It’s not always easy, but I hope that leading by example makes a difference for others.

I’m also on a journey toward allyship, trying to understand how my support for Indigenous and Torres Strait Islander people can make a difference – not just in the workplace, but also in raising conscious, empathetic, and informed children.

I’ll no doubt make mistakes along the way, but my intentions are sincere. Instead of feeling awkward or powerless, I believe we can all learn together. Australia’s history has been kept in the dark for too long, and I hope to shine a light on it while making small, continuous efforts to do better.

Representation is crucial when it comes to diversity and inclusion. Growing up as a teenage girl in the ’90s, I struggled with body image issues and the societal pressures around what a woman’s body “should” look like. It wasn’t until a few years ago, when I discovered curvy influencers and models on Instagram, that I began to see more realistic, relatable representations of women. Body size and shape are still taboo topics – rarely discussed in the workplace and often missing from diversity conversations. But it’s something we need to address.

Seeing other mums return to work in meaningful, supported ways is important. Seeing dads prioritise their families is important too. But what’s most important is seeing “someone like me” – whether that’s someone who is neurodiverse, LGBTQI, disabled, Indigenous, or a first-, second-, or third-generation Australian.

The media industry needs to do better at hiring, nurturing, and understanding diverse talent. Everyone deserves a role model who shows them they belong.