M
y mother grew up in a country town in a house of seven brothers and sisters, and very little money. Her parents migrated from Italy before she was born, and their source of income was working in the tobacco fields. As they couldn't survive off one wage alone, the three eldest children were made to quit school and work. My mum was lucky. She went through school cherishing every moment, and worked damn hard to do well for her family. She is now a lawyer. Before she met my father, as a woman of divorce, my mother always said “thank god I have my education, my degree, my job. How would I have supported myself and a child otherwise?”. She always reminded me that I need to be able to support myself “when shit hits the fan”. So then not only was education a value, but a means of survival.
When she had my brother and I, she made sure to teach us the value of an education, but more importantly, the value of our minds. She would read to us every night, take us to the library every week, and play ‘imagination’ at the park. She sang to us in italian and told the most wonderful stories. She did what Reid emphasises as all educators’ responsibility- “to ensure that what adolescents read is sufficiently varied for them to experience a range of literature and to equip them to derive plenty of enjoyment and understanding from it” (1988, p131). Her strong insistence on how we pronounce the letter ‘H’ is something I will never forget, nor her tricks to keeping essays simple and succinct. Through the guidance of my mother, I found my strength in using the right side of my brain and being creative. I grew up in a house of literature, open discussions, strong opinions and imagination. I believe that these elements had a profound impact on me because, there was a genuine consideration in my household towards higher education. Looking back, I’m left with the thought that maybe it wasn't a choice I made on my own? In fact, I’m certain it wasn’t. My Dad who hadn’t gone to uni, struggled to keep a consistent job for the better part of his life. I grew up assuming Dad couldn’t help me with my homework, but Mum always could. University was never not an option, although it was not outwardly said, uni would find it’s way into my life, and that of my siblings. Her degree spent years alone framed on our wall, followed by that of my sister’s- and now she’s waiting for mine. She still goes to the library every week, she cuts out articles from The Age and leaves them on my desk, and she still asks probing questions trying to get me to delve deeper. That’s just who she is, and only after writing it down just now, I never truly understood how much of an impact my mother has had on my education. However, of everything my mum has taught me, of most importance is her demonstration of how education can empower a woman. Education is power. It is power that can do good in the world, and that’s what I intend to do with it. My mother is one of the most intelligent people I know, and growing up with her influence has shaped the person I am, and the teacher I’m going to be.