"I have always believed in miracles." Scott Morrison's words stung through the TV, as the press of a button quickly turned the screen to black.

Deja vu set in, my mind returned to the image of defeated NSW Labor leader Michael Daley stepping down from the lectern.

But this felt different. It was different.

Labor certainly wasn't sitting pretty throughout the NSW state campaign but Labor and Bill Shorten losing the "unlosable" federal election seemed unfathomable.

'How could I have been so ignorant?'

Countless friends, family and peers turned to social media to express contempt for the lack of focus on climate action, with an overwhelming consensus of despair and disappointment.

Though I too am devastated, my resentment shifted quickly: how could I have been so ignorant?

At that moment, I realised I had been affected by the insidious, unexpected power of "echo chambers".

I am fresh out of high-school but my formative years were spent in a progressive bubble — in the suburbs of Sydney's inner west.

A comfortable bubble of like minds

I savoured the safe space offered by Newtown High School of the Performing Arts.

In 2014, on a school excursion, NHSPA students pressed former prime minister Tony Abbott on contemporary issues like gay marriage and feminism.

In 2016, NHSPA was at the forefront of gender politics, reaching global news outlets as students pushed for inclusive uniform policy.

I revelled in this environment of acceptance and opportunity: a green-washed school where I was surrounded by like-minded, global thinkers.

This spirit lingers long after graduation.

As I scroll through social media, people are outraged by America's restrictive abortion laws. Some of my friends express fading hopes for the state of our environment. Others demand compassion for refugees.

Almost every single one has attended a climate rally.

To me, the call for social and environmental justice is more than palpable.

Almost every one of my friends has attended a climate rally. ( Supplied )

Yet evidently, much of Australia's broader population wholeheartedly disagrees.

My echo chamber skewed my perception

In our bleak world marked by denial and division, echo chambers offer us hope.

They make us feel safe, and provide an illusion of unity and progress, and the promise of change.

Why is that so wrong?

As a first-time voter, my comfortable inner-western Sydney echo chamber certainly skewed my perception of reality.

Through social media, I received a narrow information base.

It is impossible to know whether online algorithms, my personalised feed, or "silent Tory syndrome" is to blame. But certainly, through a combination like this, I participated in what can only be described as a niche discourse, in a curated forum, where my beliefs were constantly presented as the norm.

As a first-time voter, my inner-western Sydney echo chamber skewed my perception of reality. ( Flickr: Newtown Graffiti )

Though gratifying, this left me unknowingly ignorant and inactive. As I was fed messages that reaffirmed my own beliefs, my broader judgement of the wider debates driving voters was undeniably skewed.

My safe Labor Grayndler seat — a sea of red during the election campaign — was revealed to be the third most progressive electorate in the country.

But for me, and many young people, it is simply home: the only political environment we have ever been part of.

An important wake-up call

Echo chambers are comfortable yet problematic.

I, along with so many others, thought I was lobbying enough when we should have been agitating harder than ever.

Many of my friends demand more compassion for refugees. ( Supplied: Peter Drew )

For many young people like me, Australia is not what we thought it was. The world is not what we thought it was.

Let us use this as a wake-up call. To empower ourselves to look a little further, check our bias, and most importantly, fight even harder.

One "Stop Adani" flyer at a time.

Ava Kalinauskas grew up in the inner west of Sydney and graduated from Newtown High School of the Performing Arts in 2018.