Welcome to our second newsletter for 2015. The first thing you will notice about the newsletter is that it looks very different from previous ones as it is now incorporated into the design of the new AMSSA website which will become live in time for the Staff Conference in Adelaide.

Included in the newsletter are the papers for the 2015 Biennial General Meeting which will be held in Adelaide during the Conference. Please ensure that the staff from your school who are attending the Conference receive copies of the papers and that, at least, one member from you school attends the BGM.

A very warm welcome to our new Mercy principals in 2015 – Laetitia Richmond, Catherine McAuley, Westmead, Nicole Christensen, Monte Sant’Angelo College, North Sydney, Michael Blake, St Catherine’s College, Singleton, David Finch, Mt St Bernard College, Herberton, Paulina Skerman, St Patrick’s College, Townsville, Julie Hornby, Mercy College, Koondoola, Catherine O’Kane, All Hallows, Brisbane.

I welcome you to AMSSA and encourage you and your school to be active and involved in our AMSSA activities.

Our Conference is fast approaching and it looks as if it will be a great success with many thanks to the Adelaide team for their excellent organisation. The numbers registered are up on our expectations and I look forward to catching up with you in Adelaide.

Kitty Guerin

Executive Officer

MADDY KELLY SAINT ALOYSIUS COLLEGE ADELAIDE

The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer, and appreciating that the piece is now more beautiful for having been broken. Kintsukuroi. Literally translated, it means Golden repair. Imperfect perfection. This is a foreign practice, but a universal concept. We, you and I, are kintsukuroi art forms. Our very existence in this fallen world promises that we will be broken, scarred, battered by life’s hard knocks. At the age of 3, when I recall being read my very first Bible story, the underlying message it told me went straight over my head. I just remember thinking that Adam was some weird dude who strutted around naked, and Eve couldn’t have been a real lady because rather than squealing when a snake tried to talk to her, she engaged in a conversation with it and decided it’d be a good idea to eat its piece of fruit. Oh, and God was a really scary guy. Like, really scary. You should probably listen to him. It took me longer than one might think - especially being the daughter of someone as hardcore-Catholic as Mr. Kelly himself- to realise that, actually, Adam and Eve were just metaphors for you and me, and that the snake, a living symbol of evil, temptation, lust and greed. Indeed, Adam and Eve were the first human examples of kintsukuroi I was introduced to - imperfectly perfect beings. At three years old, as I sat safely nestled in my father’s lap on our comfortable lounge in an ordinary middle-class family home, hanging onto his every word whilst my imagination devoured the sights, sounds and smells of Garden of Eden as he read, the harsh reality of this wounded world was an alien concept.

Indeed, the harsh reality that, one day, this world would break me was completely beyond my realm of understanding. And then, it happened. In 2012, injustice split me wide open, leaving me in tatters. I became a spectator of my own life, watching in slow motion as I fumbled and stumbled, catching my dreams and hopes as they fell from my hands and smashed, like a precious vase, into millions of pieces around me. I became one of the young women that I used to pray on behalf of at school; the distressed, the ill, the vulnerable. The events which transpired have led me through a tumultuous valley of anger, hurt, grief and despair. What I have only recently come to terms with, however, is that all along, I have walked through this shadowed place upon a golden path. A path which has traced my pain, my sorrow, sealing the cracks in the pavement, allowing me to walk into the light. My life itself has become a golden repair, a kintsukuroi.

Recently, I returned from a journey which gave me the answers I’ve prayed for all my life. God showed me why I was born, why I have suffered, and what to do next. The women and children I met in India held my hands as though they were holding my heart. They stared into my eyes with sincerity and love.

Their gaze, so curious, so raw, filled with the colours of hope and pain all at once - a red which said love, and a red which said blood, was also confronting. It unstitched my scars and split my freshly healed wounds wide open - or so I thought. What I now realise, is that my wounds had never healed. Have you ever placed a bandaid over a deep cut, only to realise that, days later, it is still weeping beneath the padding, and needs redressing just when you thought the pain was over? This is similar to how I feel after returning from India. But now, I am aware that personal suffering equips us with two underrated superpowers: empathy and compassion. And that without experiencing personal suffering, I wouldn’t have any hope of understanding some of the people I met. Nor would I believe I’d be able to heed God’s calling for my life. To feel isolated, objectified and neglected - to feel that you belong to a group of statistics, or to be defined by the label of “ill,” or, “victim,” or, even worse, “the ill victim,” is dehumanising. I have belonged to this category, and so do the beneficiaries of the Dalit Freedom Network in Hyderabad, the Oasis India Organisation in Mumbai, and the Emmanuel Hospital Association in the conflict-riddled region of Assam. These beautiful people, obviously, have experienced pain, torture and jeopardisation on an unfathomable scale. My life as a young middle-class, Western woman couldn’t be further removed from the life of a young, low-caste, Indian woman living in a slum. Yet, there is something about this human experience - the blessing it is - that unites us. JK Rowling told students at Harvard University, quite rightly, that imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore, the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power which enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.

I do not know what it feels like to be a teenage prostitute living and working in one of Mumbai’s biggest slums. I do not know what it feels like to live in a tin shed half the size of a classroom with up to twenty others, and nothing but tarp for a roof and flimsy cardboard for a door. I do not know what it feels like to work for eight hours a day, plucking 25kgs of tea leaves when I was required to pluck 20kg, only to be lied to at the nightly weigh-in and paid minimum wage. But I know what it is to feel as small as a thimble and as fragile as the homes in which these people live. I have had evil stare me blankly in the eyes, and tell me, through actions more so than words, that I am nothing. That my person is just a disposable plaything, to be used in servitude and stripped of all dignity. It is difficult to feel worthy of love, or of nourishment and care, when those you once trusted and loved, treat your body as though it is just a hollow shell, rather than the home of God’s child, the incubator of a human soul.

Many of the people I met in Mumbai, Hyderabad, and in Assam, have, too, stared evil directly in the face, and, due to their vulnerability, have trusted a wolf in sheep’s clothing. In this sense, the only distance between me and the people I met in India, is geographical. I am fortunate to live in a country where people are aware of the signs to look for when someone is being taken advantage of, and furthermore, that I had supportive, established adults around me to help me understand my own vulnerabilities, the manipulation, and finally, to recover and heal. Due to poverty, lack of education and disempowerment, these supports are not readily available to many of India’s lower castes. They are considered the ‘untouchables’.

I could spend forever and a day explaining the intricacies of the caste system - in India, many people tried to do that for us in order to justify the wealthy’s dismal treatment of those less fortunate. All one needs to know to comprehend the injustice, is that in India, some people are treated worse than cows and dogs in the street, and this is not okay. Spitting at women, vandalising their property, before feeding stray animals down the street, is absolutely not okay. India is a land full of irony. From the women’s stunning saris to spellbinding sky-high billboards, colours abound in this beautiful place, while in the shadows of grand colonial architecture built during the British Raj, stand some of the world’s most impoverished slums. A woman whose status of poverty makes them known as ‘untouchable’ by the higher castes, suddenly becomes the most ‘touchable’ female in the temple if a man might be tempted to use her for sexual gratification.

Our Indian journey was a two-week whirlwind. We first visited Hyderabad, a city South-East of Mumbai, where we met with workers of the Dalit Freedom Network. The Dalit people are the lowest caste of Indian society, and are extremely vulnerable to being trafficked into the sex industry. We had the opportunity to debate our beliefs about India’s caste system with Professor KanchaIlaiah, a renowned author and advocate for Dalit rights. This was a privilege, however… it was not our discussions with high profile activists which captured my heart. It was making loom band bracelets with young Dalit girls, who bravely stood and told us their dreams of becoming teachers and doctors. These girls, aged between 5 and 14, live at the Dalit Freedom Network’s shelter, and attend school at the Baptist Christian College, which has been running for 15 years and is funded by DFN. Their mothers sent them to live at the shelter, as they are Joguni women - remember those, ‘untouchables’, I mentioned a few moments ago? The Joguni Dalit women are forced into sexual servitude in Hindu temples, to be used by males of the higher caste. To prevent their daughters from meeting a similar fate, they have sent them to the shelter to receive education and nurturing that they themselves cannot provide. The tiny hands of these little girls, clutching colourful bracelets with a glimmer in each eye, restored my hope. These precious children have a chance.

Upon returning to Mumbai several days later, I was more cynical. Many of the prostitutes in the slums are trafficked from rural regions or from Nepal, and their children are forced to live in the brothels, watching their mothers, day in, day out, be tormented and abused. I didn’t need to wonder what effect this must have on a child. I saw it with my very eyes in one of the childcare centres. Children at age five, were filled with rage and hyperactivity. They were more like teenagers. One of the childcare workers informed us that a boy of seven once asked a younger girl what her ‘rate’ was. The hope and faith I felt in Hyderabad didn’t serve me so well on this particular day… that is, until we walked through the red light district in one of the slums, accompanied by workers from the Oasis India anti-trafficking organisation. On this walk, we were instructed to observe and pray. Absurd, I thought. “God, where are you?!” I internally pleaded, as my gaze caught that of a teenage girl soliciting a man perhaps double her age. We were only in the district for half an hour, although it felt like a year. If I were ever to receive the kiss of a Dementor, this is what it would surely feel like. For the first time in my life, I was grateful that Harry Potter is a work of fiction. Many confronting feelings I had tried to suppress suddenly bubbled to the surface. They spilled out in the most unexpected way. Empathy. I suppose that’s why I now call it a superpower. It hit me like a wave - not the crashing, sudden, scary kind, but in a calm and soothing manner, coaxing me to be carried along, and I knew that driving it was the spirit of God. Empathy meant that, when four young prostitutes, about my age, walked up to me and began touching my ears to count my earrings and springing my curly ringlets gathered around my face, that I didn’t back away frightened. Instead, I giggled. They giggled. For those few minutes of a uniquely beautiful human exchange, she was not a sex-worker in a slum, and I was not a middle-class Aussie. We were just two girls, doing what girls do. Laughing with each other, curious about the other, trying to breach communication barriers to convey how lovely we thought the other one looked. I wished that exchange could have lasted forever.

The participants I was with later asked me about that experience: was I scared? Truthfully, yes. But not for the reasons you may think. I was scared because, behind this girl’s smiley facade, I saw a troubled soul. Her eyes were dead, revealing the lie of the happiness she portrayed. I was scared, because I saw a girl which once was me. Living my life in auto-pilot, trying to escape from pain and sorrow in the best way I knew how, was to numb it. There but for the grace of God, had I been a girl without any support networks and living in a developing country, it could have been me standing in her shoes. Heck, it could be any vulnerable kid standing in her shoes.

Upon returning home, I have been asked many times how my, ‘holiday’ was. Responding to this query, asked out of nothing but innocent curiosity, I can only politely smile and respond with a mundane, restrained, “fine thank you,” before tactfully changing the topic. This trip was not a holiday. It challenged everything I have ever felt, and triggered personal hurt and scarring memories in ways I hadn’t foreseen. I was frustrated that, for every one angel we met, it seemed there were ten agents of evil working to destroy their efforts. However, something about this complex land completely captivated me, and I have fallen in love with a people whose pain and suffering will not deter them from reaching success. I wish I could share with you many hours’ worth of stories about countless individuals who taught me how to live again, who showed me the irony that whilst being with the poorest of the poor, one can feel richer in God’s love than ever before. And perhaps the greatest irony of all…that broken things can be beautiful things. The people I met on this life-changing journey are the golden resin, sealing the wounds and making me strong. Perhaps, without knowing it, they have transformed my own life into a kintsukuroi, a golden repair, and I only hope that God will use my life in service to them, in whatever form that comes. Hopefully, I can bring a bit of gold into the life of someone who truly needs it. When Jesus gave his life for us, he did exactly this. He took away the burden of our pain and suffering, and carried the baggage of each and every one of us. Imagine our world if we all did this for each other, too. Would it not be the most beautiful ‘golden repair’ to ever exist?

Congratulations to Marian College year 10 students Krystal Smith and Elyssa McDonnell-Austin who made their first Holy Communion at the school’s May Mass recently. The girls joined the sacramental programme at Marian and attended their reconciliation at St Mary’s Pro-Cathedral with the support of Antje Duda, pastoral chaplain.

The sacramental program at Marian offers students the opportunity to complete their sacraments of initiation.

“Being at Marian has really helped me to understand who God is and it made me want to deepen that connection,” said Krystal.

The girls said they felt “really prepared” for their first Holy Communion. “The sessions we had a school were really relaxed and fun. (College Chaplain) Father Simon Eccleton explained what would happen on the day so everything was how we expected,” said Elyssa. “It was a nice ‘journey’ to take and I felt replenished afterwards.”

Both Krystal and Elyssa received plenty of good wishes from fellow students when they returned to school.“The whole experience was amazing. It was fantastic to have my family there as well as the whole school supporting Elyssa and me,” said Krystal.

Best wishes to the girls on their faith journey following this special celebration.

The chance to show solidarity with those living in poverty saw almost 100 students from Marian and Catholic Cathedral Colleges sleep 'rough' last weekend.  

As part of a nationwide challenge, initiated by Caritas, a Catholic aid agency, students were sponsored to spend 24 hours sleeping outside in cardboard boxes, eating at a soup kitchen and undertaking activities to help them understand the everyday issues faced by those with the least in the Philippines.

“It was a fantastic opportunity to ‘walk the walk’, to understand how little people have and the challenges they face every day just to provide the absolute basics for their families,” says Jovana Riordan, head of special character and year 13 student at Marian College.

During the weekend, students completed activities that reinforced some of the challenges faced by living in poverty in the Philippines. “In the water challenge we came to understand the problems that flow when there is unequal access to this precious resource”, says Jovana.

Students also had the chance to hear first-hand about life in the region, courtesy of a Marian student and staff member sharing their experiences of a visit to the typhoon affected Tacloban area recently. “It was so moving to hear how hard life is for so many over there,” says Jovana. “The students decided to be involved to the challenge because it is an important issue for us and once we were there it was an amazingly emotional and affirming time,” says Jovana.

For students thinking of being part of the challenge next year Jovana says, “Go for it – it was such a unique and positive opportunity to show solidarity with those less well off than ourselves.”

The Mercy Music and Performance Academy, a new centre of music excellence based at Our Lady of Mercy College Parramatta, has been launched in May 2015.

Located in the Christina Creede Music Centre, the Academy aims to cultivate and nurture the creative talents of young performers by offering instrumental lessons, holiday and weekend workshops and other opportunities to boys and girls in Years 3 to Year 12.

OLMC Parramatta Principal, Stephen Walsh, says the 2015 launch of the Academy is a true case of back to the future; “At the turn of last century, the College purchased a cottage on Ross Street for the purpose of teaching music and called it the Academy - this became a centre of excellence. Today we have resurrected this, in spirit, for twenty-first century students – keeping that passion alive. It is now housed in a purpose built modern Music Centre which features state-of-the-art technology and acoustic design.”

Building on the strong musical tradition established by the Sisters of Mercy at OLMC, the Academy mirrors the College’s commitment to the Mercy Values, with a particular emphasis on excellence. Through a multitude of targeted programs and opportunities, the Academy aims to foster and grow a creative community of inspired educators and passionate, talented performers.

“The new Academy gives boys and girls the chance to experience Mercy excellence first hand, learning from the best teachers, in first class facilities. Students are given every opportunity to excel from private music lessons and masterclasses to weekend and holiday workshops and AMEB exam preparation programs. They also have the chance to play with orchestras and ensembles and, from 2016, learn dance as well,” says the Academy Director, Paul Witney.

Music has a long and proud tradition at OLMC Parramatta. From the time the foundation Sisters began their vocation in Parramatta, the teaching of Music has been a very important aspect of College life. It is said that the founder of the Sisters of Mercy, Catherine McAuley, intended that there be a piano in every House she established. Since the early 1900s, the Sisters of Mercy were renowned for excellence in teaching music, especially the Violin and the Harp. OLMC students first sat for the Trinity College Examination in 1890, with the first recorded major prize, the Trinity College Colony Medal, awarded in 1894. Subsequently, a number of medals and scholarships were awarded to violin students in the early 20th century. In the College’s 125th Anniversary year in 2014, a special concert was held at the Riverside Theatre Parramatta, acknowledging and highlighting the important role that music has played in the life of the College throughout its long history.

Our Global Partnership experience with CTID Girls College in Baucau, Timor-Leste was unforgettable, enriching, life changing and incredibly eye opening. Although the trip only lasted ten days, everything was planned by Destination Dreaming, SHC and CTID to make sure not one minute was wasted.

In the first few days we became used to being in a new country with a different culture. We spent time in Dili where we learnt a lot about the history of East Timor and their tragic past. However along with this we also discovered what an amazing young country East Timor is and gained a lot of respect for the young people who fought for their own country’s independence.

We then travelled along the coast from the capital of Dilli, to Baucau, where we were to meet up with the girls we were to be working with at Cannossian College (CTID). It was here that we spent four days working together with the young women at the College who are part of the Women’s Empowerment Program. This program provides the young women with the  opportunity to learn skills such a sewing, cooking, technology, office administration and English that will allow them to become self sufficient and support themselves and their family in the future Most of us went to East Timor thinking we would be giving more to the girls than they would us; however it was amazing and surprising how wrong we were.

Our time at the college allowed us to create incredible friendships, bonds and memories with the girls. Despite the language barrier and living completely different lives back home, it was amazing to see how much we had in common with the girls and how much we could learn from them. The ten days went faster than any of us expected and going home definitely involved mixed emotions however there is no doubt that everyone who went on the trip walked away with a new perspective on how we now view and appreciate our families, our education and our lives at home as well as how lucky we are to be born young women in a country such as Australia where we have so many opportunities for our futures.

We welcome to Sacred Heart College two teachers from CTID, Aurelia and Binda, who will stay with us for the next six weeks. They will partner with our SHC staff in Hospitality and Food Technology to learn new skills and methods to take back with them and share with the students and staff at CTID. We also will continue to work hard to support all of those living at CTID, Baucau in their endeavours to have Safe Water for Everyone by raising funds and awareness for the supply and installation of a water collection, storage and filtration system. 

Dear Colleagues,

The Association’s Biennial General Meeting will be held on Sunday August 16, 2015, at 8.45 am, during the forthcoming Australasian Mercy Secondary Schools Association Conference in Adelaide. I have enclosed an agenda for the meeting with the relevant agenda papers.

Could I ask you to ensure that anyone from your school who is attending the conference immediately receives a copy of the agenda papers.

I draw your attention to the two motions of which notice is given in the agenda.

At the Biennial General Meeting the Executive for 2015 – 2017 will be appointed.

Yours sincerely,

Kitty Guerin (for the Executive)