Deirdre McCulloch (Hawson) (Class of 1952) a Story of Advocacy and Care
Posted on May 5, 2025
In 60 years of teaching and advocacy, Deirdre McCulloch (Hawson) (1952) pioneered early services and programs for Australian children and adults with disabilities. She says she “feels lucky” to have been able to help.
What do you remember of your first days at The Friends’ School?
I was six years old when I started Kindergarten in 1940. The Depression and war years were times of sadness and loss for many families and my family was no different. We shared our house with two of my mother’s sisters’ and a brother’s families, my cousin (Noel Davies) (1951), who became like a brother to me, and my mother’s mother, who was very important in my life.
My grandmother took me on the tram for my first day of school. I think I clung to her, so she stayed a little while. I was so shy then and scared – I didn’t talk to anyone that first day. But in the play area there was a peppercorn tree with a swing tied to it. I made my way over and waited my turn.
How was school for you?
I was not a top scholar. My enthusiasm lay in athletics and team activities, and I naturally veered towards the practical and the outdoor. I was in Hodgkin, and played footy with the boys at lunchtime, which was frowned upon. I also enjoyed producing plays, especially when they made others laugh. I remember a school report with a comment that my parents were none too happy about; my teacher said I had a “tendency to overrule” my playmates. What does this tell you – leadership qualities emerging? My confidence was developing. My teachers nurtured and encouraged me.
I was so disappointed to leave school at 16 but my parents wanted me to go to a business college. I worked with my dad for a transportation company, then a bank. These jobs weren’t for me.
How did you get into teaching?
Barry Davies, another cousin (1949), told me about a teacher training course in Launceston. I enrolled and, during my studies, was invited to go to a residential farm school that catered for young boys in trouble with the law and who, for whatever reason, displayed behavioural challenges and delays in learning. Trainee teachers weren’t given much information about the students’ backgrounds, but we were given strict instructions on which activities we could present for them. I thought then: I would like to teach kids like this.
Later, when I taught Year 4 students in Hobart, one of my students had emotional and learning difficulties. At the time teacher training didn’t include strategies on how to support students with additional needs. I’d meet with the parents to gather more information about the child’s interests and use my intuition. I hope I made a difference.
When I married and had my two children, I stepped away from teaching, but it’s funny how we come to change direction at particular times in our lives. A close friend had a daughter with a disability, and she talked a great deal about her daughter’s school, about the needs of people with disabilities, their rights and how governments should provide suitable educational programs. I was inspired by her advocacy. It was all new to me and I was like a sponge, grabbing all the information I could. I started volunteering in what was then referred to as a “special school”, helping with reading, craft and yoga. It was leading me further into helping students with additional needs, which would become my lifelong passion.
When did it become absolutely clear this was your life’s work?
When my marriage ended in the 1960s, I moved to Hobart where I taught at Lady Rowallan, a school for deaf children. I started with a senior class, then was put in charge of early intervention programs in the preschool section. I later managed a centre in Northwest Tasmania that offered early intervention programs for children with disabilities and daily living skills programs for adults. Then I taught at what was then called the Royal Derwent Special School, developing after-school programs for children who lived in the wards, and evening programs for adult patients with severe disabilities. I spent some of my time writing submissions for grants to support bus trips, holidays and much needed therapies. The teaching and therapy staff collaborated for a very disadvantaged population.
When did your focus shift to the broader community?
When my children left home in the mid 1980s, I needed a sea change and took a job in Queensland at a school where I was senior teacher and acting principal. The students lived with severe and multiple disabilities – some at home, others in institutional care. I became involved with supporting not only students but their parents and carers. This led me to network with other schools and community organisations and become involved in applying for more government grants.
I feel proud to have been involved in initiating and managing one of the first community access services for young adults with additional needs: Foundation for Independence Recreation and Social Training Inc (FIRST). Before this, often the only life option after finishing school for these young people was to stay home.
FIRST Service later moved to a purpose-built community centre where people with disabilities engaged in community access programs and accredited courses, which helped them develop skills that sometimes led to work. They were supported with allied health programs. It was an exciting time and occurred pre-NDIS.
Are you retired now?
I retired at 78 and briefly worked as an assistant auditor, assessing the quality assurance of various disability services.
Home is now in the Gold Coast hinterland, in Mount Tamborine. I’m busy with my grandchildren, gardening and my Border Collie dogs. I visit Tasmania, where it all began, when I have the chance.
I remain in contact with some of the families I supported. I feel lucky to have been able to help others and I’m grateful to all the people who’ve walked down this road with me, developing opportunities and change for a once disadvantaged group of our community.
