New grant program aims to reward and retain Kalgoorlie-Boulder childcare educators
The City of Kalgoorlie-Boulder has launched a new grants program aimed at recognising and rewarding local early childhood educators in the city.
Applications are open for the new ECEC Educator Awards Program which provides up to 30 grants between $500 and $1000 towards professional development for local educators in long day care centres and new play equipment for family day care services.
Mayor Glenn Wilson said educators played an important role in the community.
'This program is about recognising the hard work and dedication of those in the sector and making it just a little easier for them to keep doing what they do best,' he said.
'Whether it's covering accommodation costs or helping pay for more training, these grants are a way of saying 'thank you'.'
Mr Wilson said the city had worked closely with the Department of Communities to roll out a range of initiatives for educators in the city during the past few years, and the grant program was another step towards strengthening and retaining the local workforce.
Educators can either apply directly or be nominated by their employer or industry networks for the grants and, once successful, they must remain employed at their current centre for a minimum of six months.
Applications close on June 15 and can be submitted online at ckb.wa.gov.au.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Sky News AU
2 days ago
- Sky News AU
Labor is 'gaslighting the Australian people' on unrealised capital gains tax proposal, Geoff Wilson warns
Labor is 'gaslighting the Australian people' by claiming its proposed super tax will impact a small sliver of the population, a leading fund manager has warned as the government and the Greens close in on a deal. The Albanese government's controversial plan to double the tax rate on funds in super accounts above $3m and hit unrealised gains could soon be legislated. Labor has claimed the tax will hit just 80,000 super accounts, however, Wilson Asset Management founder Geoff Wilson, who has launched a petition opposing the plan, said by forcing Aussies to pay taxes on paper gains it will hinder investment in Australia. 'Both Anthony Albanese and Jim Chalmers - and probably most of the government - are gaslighting the Australian people by saying: 'Look, this will only impact a very small percentage of people that pay the additional tax',' Mr Wilson told Sky News. 'That's correct, but what it'll do is actually impact about how $4.2 trillion in superannuation is invested. 'We anticipate that the money will come out of self-managed super funds (SMSF), which is about $1.1 trillion, and billions of that will go into the housing market and push house prices up . ' He cautioned Aussies who use their SMSF as a low tax investment vehicle will be discouraged from funding projects and businesses in the Australian market. 'People won't want to take risk on their superannuation in in the self-managed super funds,' Mr Wilson said. 'The angel investors and the startups and the small companies in Australia that find it hard to raise capital, particularly at this point in time - that tap's going to be turned off.' He pointed to the taxing of unrealised gains in Norway that drove investment out of the country despite initial expectations it would bring in millions. 'It was only for the ultra-wealthy, they thought they were going to raise $150 million,' Mr Wilson said. 'Instead of raising that, they were minus half a billion.' He also noted the capital gains tax hike in the United Kingdom which resulted in the government taking in 10 per cent less capital gains tax revenue. 'People change their behaviour,' Mr Wilson said. 'We've done economic models, we think it'll be negative to the tune of $94.5 billion on the Australian economy.' Alongside taxing unrealised gains, Labor's super tax has drawn criticism for its failure to index the $3m threshold over time. The Greens want Labor to lower the threshold to $2m and index it to the rate of inflation. New analysis from the Financial Services Council shows that under Labor's plan more than half a million Aussies currently in the workforce will be captured by the tax. Of those impacted, more than 200,000 are currently under 30, while 135,000 are between 30 and 34 and 65,000 are between 35 and 39. The number of impacted taxpayers greatly drops off for Australians 40 and over. The Greens' proposal would hit more than 200,000 Aussies currently in the workforce and is more evenly spread across the age ranges. Financial Services Council CEO Blake Briggs urged Labor to listen to feedback from consumers, industries and economists on how the tax will impact future generations. 'The superannuation industry recognises the government has the capacity to force the new tax through the Parliament with the support of the Greens, but encourages the two parties to take a more constructive and consultative approach,' Mr Briggs said. 'The Financial Services Council encourages the Government to consult on options that would not unfairly target future generations of Australian superannuation consumers and undermine confidence in our retirement system by introducing a new, contentious tax on unrealised capital gains.'
Sky News AU
2 days ago
- Sky News AU
‘Every worker': Number of Aussies hit by unrealised gains tax in next 30 years revealed
Wilson Asset Management Founder Geoff Wilson reveals the number of Australians in the next 30 years who will be hit by the unrealised gains tax. 'Now, effectively without the indexation, we have done some numbers, and within the next 30 years, 8.1 million or more than half of the working population will be over that $3 million mark,' Mr Wilson told Sky News host Peta Credlin. 'Without indexation, eventually every worker will be paying tax on unrealised gains, so they will be paying tax on a profit that may never eventuate.'
The Age
3 days ago
- The Age
The moment lunch with Tim Wilson turned into an ambush
Wilson's tanned skin turns a deeper shade. I notice our unexpected guest has a plastic loop on her mobile phone case around her middle finger, making it very easy to film us as she fires questions. She's feisty, but her hands are trembling slightly. 'You want nuclear in Australia, and you are a Zionist?' she asks for a third time, not waiting for an answer. 'And you want people killed, and you want babies killed?' Wilson tells her that he is having lunch, and this is grossly inappropriate. Nevertheless, she persists – for a full five minutes. This being Brighton, a well-do-to suburb south-east of Melbourne's CBD with a strong sense of self-worth (think Mosman in Sydney), the discourse soon turns to housing. Our anti-Wilson activist is bitter that her daughter and granddaughter ('who went to Brighton Primary') were forced to move two hours away because of housing affordability. She also says Wilson was invisible on the streets of Goldstein. The antagonists start to align on criticism of the Victorian state Labor government's massive underinvestment in local education. The temperature calms. Wilson masterfully suggests a visit to the local state MP, James Newbury, just down the road. But he can't help himself, slyly querying if bowling up and filming people without permission and verbally abusing them is really the best way to win friends and influence. 'No, no, I do need to do more letter writing, yes,' is her withering rejoinder. A man at the next table decides enough is enough and in a thick European accent tells the local activist to move on. She disappears down the side street. 'Save my love to Zoe,' is Wilson's slightly garbled postscript to break the tension. It's a joking reference to teal independent Zoe Daniel, from whom he has just regained the affluent seat with a significant Jewish community situated on Port Phillip Bay. Wilson asks his cafe neighbour for validation – he is indeed a recognised local face. 'I don't know who you are,' the man replies. 'I just don't like people bothering each other.' The whole thing was excruciating. Who would be a politician? Tim Wilson, that's who. Wilson is 45, a Liberal, and a liberal, one-quarter Armenian, a happily married gay man, carrying a few extra kilos but, frankly, for someone who has just engaged in a gruelling election campaign, a man with pretty great skin. 'It's politics, right,' Wilson says a short time later between mouthfuls of the cafe's signature Abundance Bowl, an enormous pile of salad greens, sweet potato, quinoa, seeds and a fried egg, to which he has deleted the halloumi and added not just avocado but pan seared salmon. He ordered it almost every day of the campaign. I have the similar salmon bowl. The flavour mix is terrific, the mouthfeel excellent. But wine is waved away – it's a Monday – in favour of a double espresso, which sits largely untouched. Today Melbourne feels on the precipice of winter. It is allegedly going to reach 18 degrees, but locals are mistrustful. One passer-by is in a puffer jacket, the next in T-shirt and shorts. Wilson is wearing his campaign uniform: jeans, blue blazer, a crisp shirt, bright-yellow pin lapel. And to be fair, during our 90 minutes together, 14 well-wishers come up to congratulate him. Earlier in our conversation, he says going from civilian life to winning an election and straight into the shadow ministry is 'feeling like you're being shot out of a catapult and haven't quite hit the ground yet. Still from election night there are SMS that I haven't even read. It is not an unwillingness, it's a simple incapacity.' I want to know about winning – and losing. 'I can tell you there are two winnings,' Wilson says. For him, nothing beat the feeling of winning his first preselection in 2016 after Liberal veteran Andrew Robb had retired. 'Everybody expected me lose', but Wilson went all in, resigning from his post as human rights commissioner just to contest. 'Bold,' I venture. 'Bold, but welcome to Tim Town,' he agrees, opening his hands as if to demonstrate 'voila!' – but only for a split second. 'I remember that adrenaline rush, and also quite frankly shock.' This time, victory was not a shock but rather 'a mountain to climb'. At which point he turns to losing. 'Pretty much from the last election day I had a personal and professional purgatory. It feels violent,' he says, describing the post-loss businesslike phone call from the bureaucracy to losing MPs. 'You're out, this person's in, pack up the office, sort that out – bang, bang, bang, bang. 'All of a sudden nothing – and you are out.' A lot of people were very worried. A psychologist friend suggested a chat. He went. 'Part of it is just to vent and get things off your chest,' he says. 'And somebody to listen. I found that very helpful.' The morning after the loss, his husband, Ryan Bolger, a school teacher, told him: 'You can look at this as the moment that ends you – or you can look at this as a gift.' His purpose taken away from him, the couple left Goldstein so Wilson could find his space and his place, moving back to their old apartment in South Yarra, where Wilson undertook a PhD in the carbon economy. 'I don't find making money something that excites me,' he says. His voice quickens in summary mode: 'It's an awful, horrific experience. But anyone who experienced a big professional setback will know those experiences. The difference is you do it in full public glare. And of course, you are known for the last thing you did.' Which in his case, was to lose. The 2025 Goldstein campaign was controversial. The very morning of our lunch, Daniel was on ABC radio talking about dirty tricks and a personal campaign directed at her. Wilson says the campaign was intense. 'We both had very passionate supporters. No one's trying to pretend otherwise.' As to her accusations about attacks on her from groups supporting Wilson, he sits there, anger clearly rising. 'I'm really resisting in light of the difficult circumstances she is facing and living right now – fighting back.' One political commentator describes Wilson as 'charming but very egotistical'. I realise I have known him for a decade, back when I was media editor at The Australian and he was a member of the free market think tank the Institute of Public Affairs and had a higher profile than many Liberal MPs. For Wilson, liberalism – the philosophy that promotes individual rights and freedoms – is the foundation of society. 'I hate the term 'moderate', because my liberalism doesn't come in moderation. I believe in that very strongly,' he says. 'I think what people are used to is this kind of idea that you have these kind of moderates who don't fight, and then they have these conservatives who fight very aggressively, whereas I'm somebody who fights very aggressively and not afraid to.' Which included contacting The Age at 3.45am one morning to protest at one aspect of the paper's coverage, which he is a little sheepish about, explaining he couldn't sleep that night. 'I don't particularly enjoy a fight, but I definitely enjoy a crusade and to be able to go and achieve change,' he says. 'I'm also not afraid of failure.' Wilson played a key role in defeating Labor's policy to change capital gains tax under Bill Shorten; now he is fighting against Labor's proposed tax changes on superannuation. I ask if there could ever be a gay leader of the Liberal Party (subtext – him). 'It's yet to be tested,' he says. 'I don't feel anyone is sitting there thinking this is an insurmountable barrier to anybody. 'There's a time where my relationship with my husband would have found me in gaol, and now it finds me, frankly, barely able to tick a diversity box.' How did the couple – who married in 2018 – meet? 'We actually met at Liberal Party State Council.' 'How romantic,' I reply. Here, Wilson looks down to apparently study his lunch and says something softly to himself. It occurs to me that Wilson might be more confident attacking Labor's superannuation policy than discussing affairs of the heart. But he reasserts himself, not pretending it was the most romantic of settings. 'It wasn't, but nonetheless it is what it was.' Ryan and he have common values, he says, brightening. 'As he says, at least he knew what he was getting himself in for.' Wilson admires Margaret Thatcher, has a poster of Ronald Reagan on his wall, and loves Milton Friedman 'because he explained economics with a charm and a smile'. He name-checks two little known political women, Pauline Sabin, who fought against prohibition, and Katharine Stewart-Murray, a distant British relative, who tried to topple her own prime minister, Neville Chamberlain, over his appeasement of Adolf Hitler in 1938. 'I like Menzies a lot as well because, in the end, he's a man of rebirth, and perhaps like me, he's a man who failed first,' Wilson says with a smile.
