DROUGHT’S
heavy toll on teachers Wendy Baldwin has children in her care who have no idea what rain is, Journalist Sue Osborne writes. She knows of toddlers living on farms who’ve outgrown mud boots that have never been worn. “We were talking about Peppa Pig the other day, and jumping in puddles, and one of the children asked what that was,” Wendy said. “It sprinkled for a few moments the other day. A two and a half year old boy asked me ‘what’s that?’” For 27 years, Wendy has been a teacher for Gwydir Mobile Children’s Service, based in Moree. She’s part of a team of two teachers and nine educators who travel 1000kms in two Land Cruisers each week, taking the mobile preschool service to remote farming communities. Family lifeline Hosted in schools, community halls and tennis clubs, the preschool is a lifeline for isolated families struggling with drought and never ending dust storms. But Wendy has concerns for the service’s future.
20 | Bedrock | issue 1 | Vol 25 | 2020
As families give up and leave the land, attendance is dwindling, and she fears the Department of Education might cut funding. This would be a mental health disaster, Wendy said, as the service is often the last port of call. Wendy and her colleagues are obliged to watch out for the mental health of their families as well as their children. Wendy had to call Beyond Blue to try and get help recently for a dad she had real concerns for. Wendy said she has a number of families she is “watching very carefully” for suicide risk. She has no specific training in dealing with such issues. “I have been through seven droughts, so I have some skills. But I worry about other teachers out there in mobile service. “Early childhood teachers are part of the community; they are farmers themselves. Teachers often feel responsible for the whole family, they take on the worry, the guilt. My advice is not to try and take on everyone’s problems.”
