The overall realisation that my children will leave really unravelled me. Interestingly, I have always been very hard on my daughter (the oldest) and with the death of her dad she was forced in many ways to grow up far too quickly, so I thought I would be far better equipped emotionally.
A couple of weeks into her transition and I am feeling better, just to be clear.
Her journey to get to university has been an interesting one. She was planning on entering into nursing — this was on her to do list for years, but at the last minute she pivoted to something quite different. I worked hard to stay out of it and not influence her choices, although to be honest I was hoping she would do nursing.
To her credit she enrolled in everything under her own steam, but that in itself got me thinking. I find it interesting the way in which her privilege has influenced her. Now, I don’t mean to demean her drive and work ethic. I have always pushed her to work hard and lean into the things that fill your cup, such as music or dance or whatever it might be.
However, she didn’t question applying for university and that went hand in hand with her applying for a hostel. I’ve had a deeper conversation with her about privilege and why she is indeed benefiting from her upbringing and her relationships and so forth. You might question my intent here, but really this just comes from a place of wanting my children to understand their privilege and to use that for good, to take others with you, to lift others up, and be genuinely empathetic to others. It’s actually about carving out a space in their lives to give back and to do something that is bigger than yourself.
When it comes to the idea of privilege, I felt it was in my best interest to put my children into schools that were directly impacted by poverty and hardship, where they would be confronted with examples of adversity among their peers. I called it a slice of reality. My boy came home from school once and was frustrated because his mates were calling him rich. I said, we are, rich in amazing whānau support and community, rich in good food in your lunchbox, rich in dance and music lessons, rich in love, rich in a warm house ... you are rich, boy, you are privileged ... I think he gets it now.
So, my daughter has gone to university and many of her friends wouldn’t even give university a thought. It’s not as if they are not capable but it may not have been a discussion at all within their whānau. There are, potentially, no immediate role models for them that allow them to see themselves learning at a university.
I do also want to make it clear that I don’t necessarily believe that the path to university is the right or best option either — I don’t believe that for a minute. My trajectory was university from school, a fairly mundane education, and yes, I went on to post graduate education and that was because I enjoyed it. However, my parents did not push me in that direction. They were probably somewhat surprised with my choice, as getting a job and making ends meet was a far more practical option in their eyes at that time. My husband, on the other hand, left school early, went to Rēhua Hostel in Christchurch and became a fitter and turner, he then got into serious trouble on the wrong side of the law, became the first graduate of Moana House, did some varied learning in university and other spaces and places and eventually became the chief executive of Ngāi Tahu and the rest is history. I truly believe that no one particular pathway of ‘‘education’’ is better than another.
However, to loop back to my daughter. It is important for me as a parent that she does check her privilege and understands it. The fact she is in a hostel and her home is in the same city does make me feel uneasy — have I done her a disservice by letting her go to a hostel and should she do what I did, work a few jobs and pay her way through university? However, she also applied for a scholarship without me knowing! And that covers most of the accommodation. So, there are many ways to look at this and I think she knows that with privilege comes responsibility. If anything, I hope I have taught her that.
