How a stage-managed vote in China shaped my first real vote in Australia's federal election

Australia Broadcast Center

01-05-2025

Along with a record number of early voters, I have just cast my ballot in Australia's 2025 federal election — the first free vote of my life.
For most Australians, voting is a routine civic duty, often accompanied by sausage sizzles, crowded polling booths, and familiar arguments about which party will "fix" the economy.
For me, it was a moment that carried the weight of memory — and a hard-won freedom.
I was 16 years old when I cast my first vote at high school in China, after the school suddenly ordered all staff and students into the indoor stadium.
Later, I learned the vote was for a district representative to the Communist Youth League — a pathway towards membership of the ruling Communist Party.
The scene remains vivid in my mind: red curtains and flags covering the stage, and three giant red banners hanging from the ceiling, each bearing only a name.
Below them stood three large red boxes.
There were no speeches. No policies. No chance to ask questions.
As I stood there, trying to figure out who the candidates were, a teacher quietly moved through our ranks, telling us: vote for the second candidate.
So I did. We all did.
I wondered: if the outcome was already decided, why go through the motions?
Our textbooks told us China practised democracy. But here we were, performing a strange kind of theatre, where choice was an illusion and disobedience was almost impossible.
When I shared my confusion with my mother that evening, she simply laughed.
"Welcome to the real world,"
she said.
"One day you will see what a vote in Australia or the United States looks like."
But it wasn't until years later that I truly grasped the difference between democracy that is claimed —and democracy that is lived.
Peter Khalil, the Labor member for Wills, hands me my Australian citizen certificate.
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Supplied: Bang Xiao
)
Democracy is not perfect
It was a simple act, over in a matter of minutes.
I walked into the early voting centre, showed my ID, collected my ballot papers and quietly filled them in.
Voting this week, in an ordinary suburban booth, I realised how extraordinary the ordinary can be.
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In my Melbourne electorate of Wills, cynicism runs high and trust in politicians wavers.
Yet beneath the noise and imperfections lies something precious: the genuine ability to choose.
My family back home was full of questions.
"Which person did you vote for the prime minister role?" my father asked eagerly.
I explained that Australia doesn't have a presidential system where the leader is elected directly, but rather a parliamentary one.
Read more about the federal election:
Want even more? Here's where you can find all our 2025
He sounded surprised. "I thought it was the same as the US election. Do Australians know that?" he asked.
I laughed. Not everyone, I said, but democracy here is like the air — so natural that people sometimes forget it exists.
In Australia, it is a quiet, living reality — present even when invisible, important even when overlooked.
In China, democracy was a chapter in a textbook.
My father sees the political chaos in the United States as evidence of democracy struggling.
The ongoing tariff war between Chinese President Xi Jinping and US President Donald Trump has led to broader questions about democracy and governance.
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Reuters
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Yet at the same time, he fully supported me becoming a citizen of a democratic country, even though the price was having to renounce my Chinese citizenship.
It's not a contradiction. It reflects a view common among many Chinese people: nothing is perfect, and very little in the world is black and white.
Some in Australia have also questioned whether democracy still "works".
The chaos of the US-China trade war deepened this conversation, not only within Chinese communities, but across the world.
The re-election of Donald Trump has triggered fierce debate: is democracy too chaotic? Is the Chinese model more stable, more efficient?
Photo shows
A crowd pulses through the city
The recent debate and policy approach highlights a deeper issue in how we view and treat those who come to Australia seeking better opportunities.
Some went further, suggesting the United States was undergoing its own "Cultural Revolution", amid rising polarisation, political violence, and distrust in institutions.
It is tempting, sometimes, to draw parallels.
Democracies can look messy. They can fail to deliver clear outcomes. They can feel broken.
But standing in that voting booth, I was reminded of how different it feels when you have lived under an authoritarian system.
You cannot compare a system where leaders change by force to one where leaders change by votes.
You cannot compare a system where the public has no real voice to one where every vote counts.
No, democracy is not perfect. But democracy is not about perfection.
It is about the right of participation.
It is about the right to question, to choose, and to be heard.
I arrived in Australia in 2007 as an international student, and in 2023, I finally began the journey towards citizenship.
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Supplied
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AI is a game-changer for first-time voters
New Australians like me — especially migrants who have come from vastly different political systems — have often been viewed as a "wildcard" in elections.
Historically, we have been seen as less politically engaged, or easily swayed by cultural or linguistic barriers.
But the 2025 federal election tells a more complicated story.
For many new Australians, the journey towards full political participation is no longer filled with as many obstacles as before.
Most people in the community have not had the opportunity, like me, to cover multiple elections as a journalist.
For many, the ballot paper can still feel intimidating.
Photo shows
The blue-and-white Vote compass logo: The words, with a tick through the "o" of "Vote".
The ABC's Vote Compass can help you understand your place in the political landscape.
Long lists of candidates. Complicated instructions. Political parties that often communicate in broad slogans rather than clear policies.
For voters whose first language is not English, understanding the nuances of party platforms and policy debates requires extra effort.
But this time, something was different: artificial intelligence is helping.
From Chinese-language voter guides to AI translations and digital campaigns on WeChat and Xiaohongshu, AI is playing a role in keeping new voters informed in their own language.
The community is as diverse and dynamic as any other.
Younger generations, in particular, are dramatically less tied to the traditional leanings of their parents and grandparents.
They are navigating Australian politics on their own terms.
Though technology has its dark sides, it doesn't only make voting easier.
It also helps break the language barrier, making an informed vote a more powerful one.
The first vote with a tough moment
Photo shows
Collage of Australian politicians on Red.
Of Red's 150 million active users, almost 700,000 are based in Australia. That presents both opportunities and risks for Australian politicians.
Even my first vote in Australia came with an unexpected complication.
When I arrived at the early voting centre to film my experience as a journalist, I was genuinely excited.
I wanted to capture the moment — not just for myself, but for others who might relate to the feeling of casting a real vote for the first time.
But that excitement quickly turned into something else. A volunteer stopped me and asked me not to record.
It was a fair request — but what followed was a surprise.
She asked to see my press pass, then scoffed and claimed she could make a similar one herself.
Then she yelled at me to leave, threatening to call the police.
I stopped filming immediately and spoke to the Australian Electoral Commission's on-site manager, who came over to explain that I had a media appointment with their team.
But the woman refused to listen and told me to "go away".
I didn't feel trusted — not as a voter, and not as a journalist.
But I knew not everyone was like that.
A few people in the line smiled and congratulated me on voting for the first time.
That kindness meant a lot.
Democracy isn't just about voting. For people from a minority background like me, it's about being seen — as part of the public we all belong to.
In both China and Australia, my first voting experiences came with something I didn't expect — being present, but not fully seen.
As I placed my ballot into the box, I thought again of that day nearly 20 years ago — standing under three giant banners, confused and obedient.
At least this time, there was no one telling me what to do.
No predetermined outcome. No fear. Just a simple choice.
Voting doesn't make a country perfect, but it makes change possible.
It makes hope real.
And for new Australians like me, it is the quiet proof that democracy — for all its flaws, frustrations, and noise — is still something worth believing in.
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