Sarah Donnelley - Big Things Grow: A memoir of teaching on Country in Wilcannia

THIS BOOK ONLY CAPTURES A few of many more stories and moments shared with students, their families and communities. I would like to acknowledge all the students and families of the schools I have volunteered at and worked in. You have all played an important part in my learning and growth as an educator, and continue to inspire me every day. Thank you for trusting me and walking alongside me every step of the way.

Without the teachers who inspired me and the mentors who embraced me and welcomed me into their classrooms, I would not have built my very own teacher toolbox. I continually reflect on all the moments that have added up to make me who I am today. Thank you for opening doors and being leaders in your field.

To the community of Wilcannia, who have embraced me, challenged me, taught me things about myself and this very special place, I am so grateful. I hope that these stories make you feel as proud as I am and demonstrate the community spirit that is so strong here in Wilcannia.

I acknowledge the students, families, colleagues and Community who allowed me time to sit with them and share these stories, which they are a part of, and helped me to ensure that my memory of events is an accurate and respectful representation.

With thanks I acknowledge the local Wilcannia Aboriginal Education Consultative Group, for reading the text and giving me advice, and for ensuring cultural appropriateness.

I would like to acknowledge Uncle Badger Bates, Sarah Martin, Owen Whyman and Monica Whyman for their consultation around language, Community processes and cultural appropriateness.

To Luke Carroll, for giving me permission to write about his very special mum, Aunty Fay Carroll. To the Cattermole family, for allowing me to share stories of Uncle Kat.

It has been a privilege to work closely with the team at Allen & Unwin. I have felt so supported throughout this amazing process, and am grateful for the opportunity to learn what goes into bringing a book to life. To Tessa Feggans, whose belief in my story every step of the way has encouraged me to keep going. For her patience, her guidance, and her passion for what she does, I am so grateful.

Last but most certainly not least, to my friends and family.

To my friends who are so understanding, and dont take offence when I am hopeless at returning their calls. As my cheer squad you keep me going, fill my heart with laughter and love, and help me to never give up.

To Mum, Dad, Will and Ali and my extended family, for your unwavering support, understanding, and enthusiasm for my crazy ideas, and for your ability to always keep me grounded and focussed. You challenge me to always do better. I am who I am because of you.

Readers may note that for different language groups, variant spellings occur for similar words, cultural groups or names. This book presents word forms, object titles, cultural affiliations and names as advised by Community members. Baaka is the spelling used throughout this book; Barka is a variant spelling. Baaka means river in Barkandji.

Barkandji is the spelling used throughout this book; Barkindji and Paakantyi are variant spellings.

Royalties from the sale of this book will go to the Wilcannia Youth Foundation. To find out more about the Wilcannia Youth Foundation, go to www.wilcanniayouthfoundation.org

THE CAR WAS PACKED. I had bought a Ford Territory second-hand and filled it to the brim. I was departing my share house in Paddington earlier than planned, leaving most of the furniture behind for my flatmate. It was a strange feeling to own almost nothing again. The idea was to get to the new house, see what it looked like and, after a day at school, head into Broken Hill to buy what I would need. Some cups, plates, bowls, glasses cutlery. There were definitely arguments on the street outside the house about what had to be packed and what could be left behind in storage. Afterwards, I thanked Dad for his patiencethat is, once I had resigned myself to leaving behind my most treasured teaching resources. So we were packed with just enough to get me through six months.

I had signed a contract for two termsa transfer of duties from my school in Sydney, where the principal had kindly given me leave to embark on my outback adventure. Its just six months, Mum and Dad told themselves. But it was a long way from Sydneys Eastern Suburbs to Wilcannia and none of us really knew what to expect.

Living in a big city, you can be so disconnected from everyone. Neighbours dont talk to each other, and in apartment buildings you can hide away and live your life without ever seeing anyone, apart from very occasionally bumping into them while putting out the bin. Working in schools, I felt so lucky to be a part of a bigger community. When I received my approval to teach in New South Wales, I had opened my selections to all of Sydney. I wanted to work in a public school and I was happy to try anywhere. I received a phone call to let me know I was being offered a graduate position at a school in the Eastern Suburbs. The school was literally three minutes walk from my parents house, where I had lived from the age of sixteen. It was about a ten-minute walk from my old school. It wasnt exactly the adventure I had been open to or hoped for, but I was grateful to have been offered a role. At university you are warned about how hard it is to find a permanent position, so I had struck the jackpot.

Although I was initially hesitant about working so close to home, I am now so grateful that I did. I was part of a strong school community and I love returning to Sydney to stay at Mum and Dads, because I get to feel part of that community again. Walking down the street to get a coffee, I see previous students and their families. Our favourite spot to go out locally is owned by a former students dad. We walk down to the beach, and just as Ive put down my towel, ready to dive into the sea, Ill hear, Miss Donnelley!, and an excited group of students I once taught run up to say hello.

Someone once told me that you should only ever spend three years in a school. Perhaps subconsciously I knew it was time, or maybe things just happen for a reason, but as I was nearing the end of my three years at the school, a change in my personal life forced me to reconsider what I was doing and what I wanted to achieve.

Once I had made the decision that it was time to move on, I applied for a number of jobs in rural and remote locations. The same afternoon I received the call for a teaching role in Wilcannia and was offered a second position in another area as well. The second job was a permanent assistant principal position. I was torn. Wilcannia was a six-month contract, so I would need to take leave from my current position to take it. The other school would mean a step forward in my career, I was told: Once you are in a permanent leadership position, you dont have to look back. I couldnt talk to anyone at school about it, because they didnt know I was leaving. Instead, I wrote pros and cons lists. I had twenty-four hours to make a decision. I read school newsletters, scrutinised the schools websites and Facebook pages, and spent what I am sure was an hour staring at a map. I called mentors, who were divided. On one hand was career progression. On the other hand, though, was the awareness that this is what I wanted to do.