A Wiradjuri, Yorta Yorta and Barkindji woman, Ms Moore was born and raised in Dubbo. Eldest of 15 siblings, she was raised by a single mother in east Dubbo, the place she calls 'the Bronx'.

Home to social and Aboriginal housing, with many low-income earners living on Centrelink payments, the area has been given the name of New York's poorest borough.

"We experienced the traumas of poverty, homelessness, domestic and family abuse," she said. "I had to grow up pretty quick."

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Nevertheless, Ms Moore said she made her own fun as a kid.

"I grew up riding my push bike. My uncle had a pony, so I would go horse riding," she said. "I remember kids would always be playing in the street, and scattering when the street lights came on. You'd be in trouble if you didn't come home by then."

At 13, Ms Moore had the opportunity to go away for school. She was approved to attend Biala, a hostel for Indigenous girls in Sydney's Allambie Heights.

"I wanted to be that role model for my siblings, you know? No one in my family had finished school," she said.

Ms Moore recalled girls her age that were becoming young mothers in Dubbo and Bourke. She said her mother, a former Aboriginal health worker, wanted something different for her daughter. She too had attended Biala and told Ms Moore "amazing" stories of her experiences there.

It was then that Ms Moore felt a strong desire to make "one of the best decisions" of her life.

"It was hard being away from my mum, younger siblings, and being off country," she said. "What encouraged me to stick it out, to keep going, was the belief that school in Sydney could give me valuable opportunities. I could access better education, and better myself in order to bring that back home to make a difference for my family and my community."

Once, on her way to a class in the city, Ms Moore recounted a watershed moment on the ferry there.

"I was freaking out... thinking, 'Oh my god, I'm doing this on my own' and just how beautiful it was," she said.

"Growing up we knew we [were] Aboriginal, but I didn't really know what that meant... it wasn't until I went away that I truly found myself. I found what it meant to be an Aboriginal woman, and how strong that connection to country and family is."

After returning from the "big smoke", Ms Moore started her own mobile makeup and beauty business which she ran for eight years. She travelled all over the western region doing makeup for weddings and events.

"I was able to reach Aboriginal women who had never ever had their makeup done. I would go into their homes, and some would feel a bit of shame, they would say, 'If you were a non-Indigenous person, I don't think I would've had my makeup done for my wedding'," she said. "I would also run workshops like teaching them how to take care of their skin."

Soon, Ms Moore's beauty business All Natural Tidda (ANT) transitioned into a business consultancy service. For a year, she helped more than 30 entrepreneurs, pro bono, with things like registering a business, marketing strategies and insurances.

"ANT-Consultancy is a platform I created for First Nations entrepreneurs and small business owners. [I specialized] in assisting, mentoring and referring small to medium start-up enterprises across Australia," she said.

Ms Moore's long term goal is to start an Indigenous business hub to facilitate the growth of First Nations-owned businesses. She wants the hub to function as a space for networking, yarning with elders, entrepreneurship workshops and ideas.

"We could collaborate not just with each other, but also with non-Indigenous allies and services," she said. "If you're a First Nations person, and you're only on Centrelink benefits, to pay $100 or more [per day] for an office space, it's just not realistic. Especially if you're only getting started and you're hardly even earning enough to live off of. It's about a space that would be free."

On her mother's side, Tatum Moore is related to Aboriginal activist William Ferguson who fought for citizen rights. At a time when it was "absurd" for an Aboriginal person to live off a mission, Mr Ferguson was one of the first to live in the town of Dubbo. He lived on Wingewarra Street, where Ms Moore, his great-great-granddaughter also used to live.

Following in his footsteps, Ms Moore contested in Dubbo Regional Council (DRC) elections. Though she was not elected, she hoped her running would inspire young Aboriginal girls and girls of colour to believe "if she gave it a go, maybe I can too".

Ms Moore was happy to see two traditional owners elected to DRC, however, as an advocate for youth advisory panels, she felt the ideas of younger generations could not be represented.

In the next few years, you will soon see her running at the state or federal level, as a result of her unwavering drive to "make a positive difference".

"Change is in the air," Ms Moore said. "I feel like what needs to be done, has to be done at a much higher level."

"I will continue to be an advocate, a voice for my people and for community. Standing up against injustices, inequality, [corruption] or questionable processes. Doing what ever I can within my power to make an impact," she said.

Ms Moore reminisces a few fond memories over the years in Dubbo where Aboriginal culture is "very alive and very strong". She says meeting her partner of 15 years, the births of their three children and watching them grow up on country, are on top of her list.

However, she distinctly remembers the feeling when she was a child sitting in the backseat as her mother drove back to Dubbo from Bourke after work.

"She would say 'look Tate, we're here... I remember seeing all the lights and just feeling so excited," Ms Moore said.

"Now as an adult driving home from Sydney after one of my daughter's soccer games, I see the lights on the outskirts and I still have the same feeling of connectedness, and excitement to be home in Wiradjuri country, Dubbo."

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