There’s a certain kind of person you notice before they ever say a word. Not because they demand attention, but because they carry something with them, a quiet certainty, a rhythm, a presence. For Katherine “Kat” Berney, that rhythm is often literal. Music in her ears, walking through Canberra streets like a scene unfolding around her, each step anchored in both memory and meaning.
“Music is my lifeblood,” she says. “I have a song for every core memory.”
It’s a detail that feels light at first, almost playful. But like much of Kat’s story, it carries depth beneath the surface. Because for her, memory isn’t just nostalgia. It’s survival. It’s transformation. And now, it’s purpose.
Kat is the Director of Prevention of Gendered Violence at FARE, where she works to shift the structures that allow harm to exist, often quietly, often invisibly, in our communities. Her work sits at the intersection of policy, advocacy, and lived experience, and it is driven by a belief that feels both simple and radical.
“I care deeply about shifting structures that allow harm to be normalised,” she explains. “I care that people are believed when they make disclosures of violence. I want people who have lived in violence to be able to thrive in a life that is defined by more than just survival.”
That last sentence sits with you. Because it reframes everything.
Not survival. Thriving.
And Kat knows exactly what that distinction means.
From Survival to Systems Change
Kat is a survivor of domestic abuse. It is not something she shares lightly, nor does she centre it for sympathy. Instead, she speaks about it with a grounded clarity that reflects both healing and intention.
“I feel privileged to have such a remarkable family who helped me recover,” she says. “But all people should be afforded the opportunity of meaningful recovery.”
It’s in that sentence that you begin to understand her work. Because Kat’s story could have remained personal. It could have stayed within the boundaries of her own healing. Instead, she chose to expand it outward, to ask a harder question.
What happens to the people who don’t have that support?
And more importantly, what systems exist, or fail to exist, that determine that outcome?
Her career has become an answer to those questions. Not in theory, but in practice. Through policy reform, prevention strategies, and public conversation, Kat is part of a broader movement that seeks to shift gendered violence from something we respond to, into something we actively prevent.
There is a quiet pride in how she speaks about this.
“I have turned lived experience into something that changes systems and public conversations,” she reflects. “Building work that makes other people feel safer, heard and seen.”
It’s not performative. It’s not loud. But it is powerful.
The Work Beneath the Headlines
Gendered violence is often spoken about in moments of crisis. In headlines. In statistics. In reports that arrive after harm has already occurred.
Kat’s work sits earlier than that.
Prevention, by its nature, is less visible. It happens in the spaces before harm. In cultural norms, in systems, in policies, in the quiet assumptions we carry about power, relationships, and whose voices are believed.
At FARE, this includes examining how broader social factors, including alcohol environments, intersect with violence and contribute to harm. It’s complex work. It requires both evidence and empathy. It asks people to look beyond individual behaviour and into the systems that shape it.
And it requires persistence.
Because changing systems is slow. It means challenging what has been normalised. It means asking people to sit with discomfort. It means advocating for people whose experiences have historically been minimised or dismissed.
For Kat, this isn’t abstract.
“I believe you,” she says, when asked what she would say to someone experiencing violence. “You matter. You are so deeply loved and things aren’t just going to get better, they will become great and we need you here for that.”
It’s a message that sits at the heart of her work. Not just belief, but possibility.
A Life That Holds Both Joy and Weight
Spend any time with Kat, and you quickly realise that her story is not defined by one thing.
Yes, she is a leader in prevention of gendered violence. Yes, she is a survivor. But she is also someone who finds joy in the everyday, in movement, in music, in the small rituals that ground a life.
Walking her groodle, Lucy.
Dancing without overthinking it.
Baking, not just as a task, but as a reflective practice.
These are not side notes. They are part of the whole.
There’s something important in that balance. Because the work Kat does is heavy. It deals with harm, with trauma, with the realities of violence that exist in our communities. And yet, she holds onto joy with intention.
It’s not avoidance. It’s resilience.
Even her past holds unexpected layers. Before her career in policy and prevention, Kat was an opera singer. A detail that feels almost cinematic, and in a way, it is. If you look closely, you can even spot her in the film Superman Returns.
But perhaps that’s fitting.
Because there is something quietly heroic about the work she does now. Not in a dramatic, spotlight way. But in the consistent, determined effort to make the world safer for others.
The Kind of Leadership We Need
Kat’s leadership doesn’t come from authority alone. It comes from alignment.
Her lived experience, her professional expertise, and her values are not separate threads. They are woven together in a way that feels both authentic and intentional.
She doesn’t just advocate for change. She embodies it.
Her personal philosophy is simple, but it carries weight.
“Take the high road and be kind, because you can always be kind.”
It’s the kind of statement that could be dismissed as cliché if it came from someone else. But in Kat’s context, it feels different. Because kindness, in her world, is not passive. It is active. It is choosing to believe people. It is choosing to create systems that support rather than harm. It is choosing to hold both accountability and compassion.
And it is choosing, again and again, to do the work.
A Better Future, Built Intentionally
When asked what drives her, Kat doesn’t hesitate.
“That a society with less violence means a better society for everyone and a thriving future for our country.”
It’s a reminder that this work is not niche. It is not limited to one group of people. The ripple effects of violence, and of its prevention, extend across communities, workplaces, families, and generations.
A society that reduces harm creates space for more than just safety. It creates space for connection, for growth, for people to live full and meaningful lives.
That’s what Kat is working towards.
Not just fewer incidents of violence, but a reimagining of what our systems can be.
Why This Story Matters
Stories like Kat’s matter. They remind us that behind every strategy, every framework, every piece of legislation, there are people. People who have lived through the systems we are trying to improve. People who carry both the insight and the courage to challenge them.
Kat Berney is one of those people.
She is not just working within the system. She is reshaping it.
And she is doing so with a clarity that comes from lived experience, a commitment to kindness, and a belief that things don’t just get better.
They can become great.
People with Purpose is part of Purpose Media CBR’s commitment to amplifying the people shaping a more connected, informed, and hopeful Canberra.
