Dear Women In History (an open letter to the girls in my History classes)

RE: Be Brave

Dear Francine, Susana, Kanisshi, Happy, Lemonoria, Misialofa and Maggie,

This week you graduated and I remembered how we talked in History class about Bismarck and the two contrasting Kaisers. Be brave because women of our complexion are still largely missing from the narratives and discourses that are supposedly "World History." Not two hundred years ago, no one like us had dreams like you- not out loud, at least: law school, medicine, education, classical music. We were not allowed so we went about not breaking the mould, not talking too loud. Fit in, fit in. They told us.

As you fly away, be brave because 'good music' still looks like Beethoven and Mendelssohn. White and male. When you played 'Waltzing Matilda' on the strings that day, you held all of recorded History by its singular thin thread. Don't be careful. Challenge it and challenge them and CHANGE IT ALL. Write your Samoan names on the Berlin Wall (or what's left of it...), and break down the walls that want you to stay small. You are tall so stand tall.

Be brave, most of all, because life is difficult and the world is cold. You know the Cold War was about ideas, so THINK, so DREAM, so touch the sky and plant your own flag on the moon. Many things and people will stand in your way, but don't you be one of them. Get out of your own way and lead the way.

Our ancestors knew every constellation by name. Be brave because you are descended from navigators and seafarers and mathematicians. Be brave for your families, and be brave because it takes courage to remember. And to forget. Such is History. And such is life. 

Love,
Ms. K

With Francine Ausage, my top Year 13 History student of 2023, and her classmate, Susana Lina John. 

Congrats, Grad!

Tatou O I Ioritana

"We talked all night about the rest of our lives

Where are we gonna be when we turn twenty-five?"- Vitamin C, 'Graduation Song'

December 5th, 2013: After receiving our Secondary School Graduation Certificates, with my two high school besties, Isabella and Jasmine J (remember those monikers they'd dish out if you had the same name as another kid in class, lol?)

Tomorrow, the high school I graduated from- and which I now teach at- will have its Prizegiving and Graduation Ceremonies. I'm feeling super nostalgic for two reasons. 

Firstly, wow! "Another lot", as I used to hear my father say at the end of every academic year. The senior graduating class is one I've taught English and History to for two years. Over the year-and-a-half we've spent together, we've developed a great dynamic. Everyone speaks their mind, whilst keeping in mind that, as I said, EVERYONE speaks their mind. That is, have your say, but know that others will also have theirs. For me, this fosters an appreciation for open communication, and a respect for others, which will last these young people a lifetime. With uni, work and whatever else they may choose to do looming just on the horizon, I have every hope that they will go out into the big wide world with love, compassion and resilience. That they will make space for others to grow and succeed. And that, as they navigate the vast ocean that is the 'outside world' (lol), they'll be able to say they learned a thing or two from us, their teachers. 😭

Secondly: it's the ten year anniversary of my own high school graduation! Where did the bloody time go? This time a decade ago, I was among my classmates, cleaning and decorating the SDA Youth Hall. It was a lot of work, but we were so excited to finally be graduating. We did flower arrangements, changed the seating arrangements eighteen million times, got mini-mini heart attacks every time a balloon popped (and then ended up going to look for more white balloons at midnight!), and then watched midnight turn into early morning as we sang our hearts out to the gentle strumming of an old guitar. I still remember the songs we sang: Cups (by Anna Kendrick), and Ou Te Ofo Ina Atu A'u Nei Mo 'Oe (as sung by Punialava'a). I know, nostalgia galore! 

At work today I watched as the various prizes were being organized and readied for presentation tomorrow. I can imagine the anxiousness that some kids are probably wrestling with right now. "Did I do well enough?" "Am I getting that top prize like I did last year?" "Are my parents going to be satisfied with my effort this year?" "What's going to happen to me if they aren't...?" Lots and lots of questions, and even we as teachers certainly don't have all the answers. Not to your questions, and definitely not to a lot of our own. We are all human, at the end of the (long!) day. I'll be honest here- there are still errors I made on some of my final exams in 2013 that I regret, to this day, and think back to, often. No matter that I have enjoyed much success after high school, and in my professional life. Silly things I said as a teenager, graphs I didn't construct neatly enough, maps I misread, calculations I went over multiple times and still got completely wrong...those come back every once in a while to check in on me and remind me that before this, there was THAT. I was THAT. And no matter what any student is NOW, we cannot say that they won't go on to have wildly successful, extremely productive, wonderfully fulfilling lives. 

That cliche Samoan proverb is right. E toe oso fo'i le la. The sun will rise again tomorrow. It has never once failed to rise- even on a cloudy day, Mr. Sun is there, you just can't quite see him very well. Where there's daylight, Sol is smiling. And even in the densest darkness, if there's a little light, there is always, always hope.