It’s the end of lunch at a Western Sydney high school. The teenage girls are funnelling towards the school library’s exit under the watchful eye of my mum, the librarian. As they leave the library, she begins other tasks. The returns need to be re-shelved; the new display has to go up and she has to find that CD that the Italian teacher requested. To watch Mum handling the lunch-hour rush is to watch someone who not only knows but loves her work.
Yet books aren’t her only love. In fact, they weren’t even her first passion. What mum wanted to do most of all was to teach. And I have grown up on stories of her love affair with schools.
It’s a love affair that began long before I was born. When Mum was the same age that I am now, she moved from her home in India to the United Arab Emirates (UAE) to take up a position as a founding teacher at an international school.
When Mum was the same age that I am now, she moved from her home in India to the United Arab Emirates (UAE) to take up a position as a founding teacher at an international school.
During her first year in the Middle East, Mum taught first-graders. As their classroom teacher, she taught everything from English, Maths and Social Studies to History, Geography, and Islamic Studies.
Mum thrived during her time as a teacher. Even now, when she speaks of it, there is a twinkle in her eye. When she refers to her ‘kids’, my brother and I know she doesn’t always mean us - but the children of her old classroom. Her love for her students is notorious among friends and loved ones.
But when Mum and Dad relocated to Australia, she struggled to find employment in a school. Her qualifications and years of teaching experience didn’t matter in a workforce that only valued Australian qualifications and local experience.
At the time, Mum would’ve had to return to uni for four more years to re-qualify. The prospect of fronting up extraordinary fees and spending the early years of her marriage returning to study was daunting. Plus, she and Dad were ready to start a family. Like many South Asian women who migrate with their partners, Mum found herself having to choose between family and career, while simultaneously adjusting to a new way of life, far from her support system.
When Mum and Dad relocated to Australia, she struggled to find employment in a school. Mum is pictured here in the middle row, 9th from the left. Source: Supplied
Her frustration eventually drove her to enrol in an out-of-school-care course that allowed her to work with children of the same age as her old students. Before she even finished the course, she was offered a job at an after-school care centre, proving what Mum had always known – she had the skills and experience to be a good educator.
Mum continued to work in the childcare industry care until my younger brother was born. And it wasn’t until years later - when my brother and I were in high school that she made the decision to go back to study and retrain as a library professional.
When I think about the time that Mum spent studying, I have memories of her missing after-school TV sessions with the rest of the family to finish writing assignments. I can hear the sound of her car pulling into the garage at 11pm after she worked a late shift at the library to complete her prac requirements. And I can smell the artificial whiff of Uncle Ben’s microwave rice because that’s about all that my teenage self could cook when she wasn’t available to make dinner.
All of those sacrifices that she made to be able to chase her dreams leave me in awe of her. But they also leave me angry at a system that turned its nose at her talent and blocked her access to a fulfilling career.
All of those sacrifices that she made to be able to chase her dreams leave me in awe of her. But they also leave me angry at a system that turned its nose at her talent and blocked her access to a fulfilling career.
I still bristle on Mum’s behalf when my friends make offhand comments like, "I forgot your Mum used to teach. She just works in a school now, right?” Their flippant remark makes it sound like Mum chose to leave her chosen career behind. It doesn’t do justice to the work she has put into reimagining her path.
Like Mum, I too have found a profession that I love passionately. But because of her experience, I am not naïve enough to believe that my talent alone will ever be enough to succeed.
And even though Mum never taught in an Australian school, she was my teacher. Because of her I have learnt that when life denies one dream, it is possible to find another. She taught me that there is more than one path to fulfilment and happiness. And if plan A doesn’t work, I still have plans B through to Z.
