A seven-photo collage featuring the same individual in a variety of joyful, playful, and meaningful moments. Top left: smiling in a selfie near a large tree and a colorful caterpillar sculpture, wearing glasses and a blue shirt. Top center: mid-run at the Lismore Colour Explosion Fun Run, covered in bright powder. Top right: dressed in a pink unicorn costume, holding a wicker basket in a light-filled office or clinic. Middle left: outdoors in front of a brick building and greenery, wearing a white hat and sunglasses. Middle center: receiving an award from a man in ceremonial attire, shaking hands and holding a plaque. Bottom left: at the beach in sunglasses and a white shirt, with ocean waves and sand behind. Bottom right: smiling and covered in purple powder, likely from the same fun run.

Olivier's Journey to Australian Citizenship

Here at Inclusion Tree, we’re more than just a business … we’re a team. Recently, one of our team members had a very special reason to celebrate. Our incredible Support Coordinator, Olivier, officially became an Australian Citizen.

This milestone is more than just a piece of paper; it’s the culmination of a nine-year journey of self-discovery, resilience, and the search for a place to call home. We asked Olivier about his path from the south of France to the land down under, and we’re thrilled to share his inspiring story with you.

Written by: Olivier Brefeil

Becoming Australian: Olivier’s Journey

I was born in the south of France, in a little town called Fronton. I was a summer-born baby over there who became a winter man in Australia, and even after all these years, I still struggle to get used to celebrating my birthday in the middle of winter.

I’m the youngest of three, and from an early age, I’ve loved to sing, even if I’m out of tune and drive people crazy with it. I also have a background as a pastry chef, which I trained for in my late teens. I spent those years whipping cream and baking croissants, but these days I mostly bake for personal pleasure (and to keep friends well fed).

When I finished school, I went to university to study law between the ages of 18 and 20. I loved it, but as it got more complicated, I started losing faith in myself and didn’t push through. Looking back now, it wasn’t a sad ending; it was the beginning of something else.

A Serious Foundation

I changed direction and trained to become an Aide Médico-Psychologique (AMP), which roughly translates to Medical–Psychological Assistant. In Australian terms, it sits somewhere between a Disability Support Worker, Aged Care Worker, Mental Health Support Worker, and Teacher’s Aide, depending on the setting.

This was a two-year qualification, completed while working full-time, with extensive placements throughout. It’s one of the qualifications that has shaped me the most; it reflects precisely who I am and what I stand for.

The training covered supporting people with any disability — physical, mental, cognitive, social, or cultural — from birth through to the end of life. We learned to understand all forms of disabilities and how to adapt support to each person’s unique situation.

An AMP’s work spans many environments:

  • in schools as a teacher assistant, supporting children in their learning journey
  • in aged care, ensuring wellbeing and dignity
  • in mental health settings, providing relational and therapeutic support
  • in community roles, assisting refugees or women escaping violence
  • and in people’s homes, supporting independence, daily living, and social connection

The curriculum included anatomy, physiology, developmental psychology, disability studies, mental health, communication, legal frameworks, personalised care planning, group dynamics, civic engagement, and professional ethics.

In short, it prepared me to work across the entire human lifespan and disability spectrum, observing, adapting, educating, supporting, advocating, and collaborating. I might be cheeky and rarely serious unless needed, but when it comes to helping others, I bring every bit of that training and fairness to the table.

A New Start Down Under

I decided to move to Australia for a fresh start — to learn English and break free from the image and expectations that had been set for me by the same inner circle I’d been part of for 29 years. As a gay man in France, I had built walls to fit in, not to belong. I wasn’t allowed to change without people questioning, “Since when are you like this?” or “Why are you doing that now?”

The end of a nearly ten-year relationship was the final push I needed to take that leap.

When I arrived in Australia nine years ago, I had to learn English — to speak it, to write it, and to live through it. Because life loves a good challenge, I also happen to be dyslexic. So, imagine learning a new language, backwards, upside down, with a French accent… fun, right?

It wasn’t easy — but it made every milestone feel even bigger. I think I manage pretty well now… although if you ask most Australians, they’d probably say otherwise. Between my accent and my “creative” grammar, I keep people entertained.

During my backpacking days, I met so many incredible people along the road. Those fellow travellers became more than just temporary companions — they’ve become lifelong friends. Today, I have friends spread all over the world, and we still keep in touch.

Here in Australia, I’ve also built my immigrant family; two dear friends I met as an adult while we were all on our journeys of self-discovery. One lives in Melbourne, the other in Cairns, but they’re part of my everyday life. We might be spread across the map, but the bond runs deep. It’s one of the most beautiful things about starting over: you get to choose the people who become your family.

Like many working holiday makers, I had to complete the 88-day minimum rural work to be eligible for a second visa. In those final weeks of farm work, while juggling two other jobs to pay the bills, I met the man who would become my husband. For a little while, we ran a café in Goonellabah together, but I eventually found myself pulled back into the health sector. I began working as a sole trader support worker and am now a Support Coordinator.

Finding My Place at Inclusion Tree

I first encountered Inclusion Tree through a participant. I met Lynn and Emily and saw the incredible work they were doing. I felt ready for a new challenge, so I applied for a Support Coordinator role. Oh boy, I didn’t know what I was signing up for, and they didn’t quite know who they were getting either!

It’s been a journey filled with challenges, steady days, tough days, and plenty of wins. What makes Inclusion Tree special is that it’s a safe place to be yourself, to ask questions, to clear the air. Also with my thick French accent, the team is slowly learning French too, so it’s a win–win situation.

I might laugh loudly and sing badly, but I take my work seriously. I believe in fairness, transparency, and doing right by the people I support. That’s at the core of everything I do.

Becoming an Australian Citizen

Becoming an Australian Citizen has been a deeply emotional milestone. When I found out my citizenship had been approved, I was filled with joy and relief. It felt like a moment of belonging, like my new chapter had truly been written. Standing there during the ceremony, hand on my heart, I felt proud. This country gave me space to grow into myself, and now it’s officially my home.

Looking Forward

My goals now are meaningful but straightforward: to enjoy life, to keep being myself, to walk proudly and never be ashamed of who I am. I want to show the new generation that it’s okay to live the way you want, that life truly can get better.

I want to continue supporting my participants and witness their growth and journeys — with structure, honesty, and a healthy dose of cheekiness along the way.

Australia gave me the chance to rebuild and rediscover myself. Now, as a citizen, I want to keep giving back — with a cheeky grin, a loud laugh, and probably a song or two (slightly off-key, of course).