The Town was the Teacher

This weekend life brings me back to the town of Thargomindah, a place that is so special to me. I’ll be

sitting among familiar faces, watching a young woman I once taught walk down the aisle. She’s now a teacher herself, giving back to the same community that raised her. It’s one of those rare moments where you catch a glimpse of the ripple coming back around. By coincidence, the day she says “I do” falls on my own wedding anniversary. Life has a funny way of moving in circles like that.

When I think about my time in Thargomindah, I always smile. I arrived there in my twenties, stepping

into my first principal role. Young, enthusiastic and, if I’m honest, totally unaware of what the role would truly ask of me. Had I known, I’m not sure I would have signed up so quickly!

I definitely don’t remember that chapter of my life as a time where I strode in and led the charge. If anything, the town was my teacher. Community was what held me, pushed me, challenged me and loved me. And somewhere along the way, without any fuss or fanfare, it shaped me into the person I needed to become. That backing showed up in a hundred quiet ways people keeping an eye out, someone appearing right when I needed, a neighbour checking in, a meal shared, a rum with skinny Coke at the pub after a long week. Country people aren’t known for being quiet & more than once I heard, “Who’s that?” when I was still the new face in town. The response usually came quick, “Careful mate…that’s our principal.” How’s that for loyalty, respect & trust? The kind of backing a small town give when they decide you belong.

Those people in that town taught me something I’ll always carry. Roots don’t always need to run deep to stick. Sometimes belonging grows simply because people choose to stand beside you. Teaching has always felt a bit like dropping a pebble into water. But you never really know how far the ripple travels. You hope the lessons land, the encouragement sticks. You hope the young people in front of you carry a little bit of confidence and belief into whatever life brings them next. Most of the time, you never actually see the ripple. Years pass. Students grow up. Life moves on. Watching this young woman return to her hometown as a teacher reminds me just how powerful those quiet ripples can be. The same community that helped raise her is now being shaped by her care, her energy and her commitment to the next generation. The circle keeps turning.

This weekend I’ll return to Thargomindah with my own family beside me, celebrating love, new

beginnings and the quiet pride that comes from seeing the next generation step forward. Moments

like this remind me that life rarely moves in straight lines. It moves in circles. In communities that

shape us long before we realise what they’re giving us. Because sometimes the greatest lessons in life don’t come from classrooms or titles. Sometimes the town itself is the teacher.