4 minute read
Remembering past staff
Fondly remembering past staff
Jenny adored books and their ability to inform us, transform ideas, provide an escape from the mundane, transport us to different places, and blow apart stereotypes. As the daughter of two teachers, with a sister who also joined the teaching profession, it’s not surprising that Jenny gravitated to both University of Auckland and the Auckland Teachers’ Training College when she finished school.
Her patience and persistence with kids who struggled with English made her a particularly gifted reading recovery teacher and her talent for library organisation was impressive. The Dio library was her beautifully managed piece of real estate for 22 years and she was always deeply invested in the students who wandered into her mostly calm realm.
What set Jenny apart from many others was the amazing degree of intuition she brought to so many of her dealings with students. She always came across as a person who took the time to look beneath the surface and engage with people in a way that was genuine and supportive.
Jenny didn’t suffer fools lightly but her infectious laugh and cheeky sense of humour made her one of those teachers who made a particular impact. She was a bundle of energy and took this to the wide range of extracurricular activities in which she was interested. It wasn’t uncommon to see Jenny on the sidelines of a hockey game before dashing off to provide support for a debate. I remember her unwavering support for the 1st X1 hockey team, no matter what the outcome.
Someone told me that if Jenny’s life was a book, it would be a story of tremendous respect for the power of education and the immeasurable impact of the written word. It would be interspersed with irreverence and laugh-out-loud observations. It would tackle old and anachronistic ideas and give preconceived prejudice a bloody good shaking. It would address the importance of kids being educated in a collaborative, supportive environment. And it would reflect a woman who is dearly missed by her friends and family, as she is missed by all of us who had the privilege of crossing paths with her on our life journeys.
Jenny Cutler
Jennifer Cutler 31 August 1944 – 7 July 2021
Anna Lawrence
Dio lost a living legend recently. Warm, funny, empathetic and smart, Meg Bayley was a Dio Old Girl and a muchadmired teacher. On hearing of her passing, the outpouring of affection and recollections from alumnae of all ages was extraordinary. Dozens and dozens of comments on an obituary post on the Dio Old Girls’ Facebook page spoke genuinely and fondly of a woman who was an astute observer of people, an enduring beacon of kindness, a fiercely intelligent scientific mind and, above all else, just a really good sort.
It’s highly possible that there’s not a single Dio girl who attended Meg’s science classes who doesn’t remember her lessons on osmosis and her hand gestures to illustrate the particles in solids, liquids and gases.
Meg’s perspectives on life at Dio included boarding during the Second World War, knitting socks for troops and saving jam rations for soldiers. She talked candidly about the challenges, frustrations and lighter side of engaging with women’s education over a period of time where gender politics were possibly evolving more quickly than in any other period of history. Her wry commentary on the vicissitudes of school management were extraordinary, and her propensity to laugh at herself was endlessly refreshing.
In the words of her family, “Meg loved her life and has left behind a big whanau of grandchildren and great grandchildren from her kids Peter, Vicky, Jo and Philippa. They all gave her such pleasure and pride. Another area of pride for Meg was the over 20 years she taught biology at Diocesan. She loved teaching and we were never embarrassed to say Mrs Bayley was our mum, as the Dio girls always raved about how much they loved her. You should have seen all the messages and flowers from ex pupils for her 90th last year. She was honestly so thrilled.”
That says so much and there’s another story that really sums up Meg. She talked about walking down to the school compost heap to look at the critters in it (as one does). A new girl walking with her had a club foot, something that Meg had not previously observed. The girl said that she had to struggle to keep up because she’d been told she needed to keep pace with her peers. Meg told her it was no big deal at all for her to slow down, so they ambled. The worms could wait.
Few who knew her would be surprised that Meg left her body to the Auckland Medical School. It was so typical of her thoughtfulness and generosity and her endless sense of curiosity. Somewhere, she’s having a laugh.
