can this really be the end?

1551772_10152221741712240_1365305647_nThis is the start of my education, circa 1956. It’s odd to think that I end my working life in the education system.

I never meant to but some jobs I had made me feel I needed a little more of a challenge than stripping mould frills off soap (McLeods), straightening labels on coffee jars (Greggs), sorting fruit (St George Jam) and using the adding machine in friend Heather’s father’s business. There were others: rest home carer, telegraph girl in Queen Street, psychiatric nurse. The latter was not so bad but love and Fiji called. To be honest psychiatric hospitals in New Zealand in the 1970s were a bit difficult: shock treatment, ‘homosexual’ treatments and staff nurses who’d rather we fold towels than talk with patients.

There was work in London – waitressing at which I did not excel. Mind you, waitressing in Oxford Circus was not the best place for a kiwi with no love of being ordered about. Temping – bar staff, cleaning loos in Amsterdam and the wonder of wonders setting up trays for airlines at Schiphol Airport.

Some teaching – Greece, London (if you survive teaching in London you can survive anything) and Sydney. My first year teaching in Warkworth and some literacy teaching in Porirua. A term or two in Timaru where I learned the names of the All Blacks and biked by the sea with the seaward snow covered Kaikouras in the distance.

Bookshops and the Museum Shop in Wellington with trips to Canada and the U.S.A. and India. Art Galleries and Museums Association in the late 80s. Working at the Turnbull organising the tour of an exhibition on Te Tiriti (heaps of fun). More teaching and in 1999 becoming an instructional designer. Whatever that means.  Every job has been different but there were trips to Australia.

It’s all been fascinating. And it ends formally on 2nd June. That’s Queens Birthday weekend.


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