It's my school reunion Saturday night and the anticipation is nearly killing me. I haven't seen virtually anyone from high school in well over 20 years, longer if I'm really honest. I'm a bit concerned that there will be people that I just don't remember or recognise - there are already a few of those on Facebook. I need a Brody's Notes on classmates!I've got my outfit sorted - my fave lil' black dress with lots of beads draped around my neck and my highest black patent mary janes. My skunk-line's disappeared thanks to yesterday's hair dying efforts - so fingers crossed that my hair will behave on the night.
I'm genuinely excited and curious to see people and what they've achieved. I can guarantee you that every single one of them has achieved more than any teacher at that school ever believed {very negative people who had no concept of building self-esteem - only shredding it}. I know that plenty of people were like me, left in year 10 after being told their was no point in continuing and then going back to continue their education in their early 20s. I studied my HSC at Tafe when I was 22 and was nurtured by the most exquisite English teacher, Mrs Shirley Smith, who told me I had a talent for writing and suggested I apply to uni and undertake a Communications degree.
More than 20 years later I have an honours degree in communications and now spend my days being paid for writing - bliss. But without this amazing woman I'm not sure whether I would have found this path - I may have been teaching English instead - but nurturing delicate self-esteems and helping children realise their full potential. Gee, no wonder we spent so much time choosing our daughter's school...



















