Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Education Work and Catholic Life
Education Work and Catholic Life
Education, Work
and Catholic Life
Stories of Three Generations
of Australian Mothers and Daughters
Education, Work and Catholic Life
Anne Keary
Education, Work
and Catholic Life
Stories of Three Generations of Australian
Mothers and Daughters
123
Anne Keary
Faculty of Education
Monash University
Clayton, VIC, Australia
This Springer imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd.
The registered company address is: 152 Beach Road, #21-01/04 Gateway East, Singapore 189721,
Singapore
This book is dedicated to my grandmother
Mary, mother Marie, Aunt Inez and niece
Melissa who are no longer with us but will
always remain in our memories.
Anne Keary
Three generations: Anne’s grandmother Mary, mother Marie and older sister Bernadette
Foreword
As I write this piece, the Catholic church is in crisis—it is confronted with its own
historical culpability in sexual exploitation and criminal violence against multiple
generations of its own youth and children, accusations of systematic cover-ups
of these and other activities undertaken by a priesthood and leadership that range
from economic corruption to longstanding discrimination against women. The
church is facing scepticism from right wing, nationalist governments and liberal,
social democratic governments and political parties alike; it is held in suspicion by
autocratic states who see it as competing for moral authority and social control. It
has its own internal fractures between liberal and conservative factions, and faces
increasing pressure from growing Pentecostal and evangelical movements. But
when we refer to the ‘church’ as in crisis, we refer to an institution, a fully oper-
ational corporate entity, supported by government regulation and, in many coun-
tries, taxation exemptions and subsidies. The church is a de facto nation state with
its own laws and regulatory regimes, historical alliances and enemies, foreign
policies and policing, disciplines and punishments.
It is helpful to begin from Max Weber’s sociological description of institutions
as bureaucracies, functioning systems that mediate, govern and shape social rela-
tions, identities, life pathways and labour. Education, Work and Catholic Life is
about Australian Catholic women’s lives, their educational and generational
experiences, their beliefs, aspirations and life pathways and how these have been
shaped in relation to Catholic education, childhood and—indeed, a church that now
finds itself in crisis. Here the focus is on religious belief and spirituality as a
complex and dynamic amalgam of cultural practices—tied up closely with every-
day educational, child-rearing exchanges and beliefs that are produced and repro-
duced, shaped and reshaped by successive generations of women raised and
educated as Catholics. Particularly in the current context, this fusion of memory and
imagination perhaps tells us more about the lived challenges and everyday realities
of religion and spirituality, education and childhood, work and profession than any
formal ethnographic, sociological or historical case of schooling or the church
might. For this genealogy of Catholic women’s lives, Anne Keary and her col-
leagues remind us, is both vertical and horizontal in its scope. Several of these
vii
viii Foreword
stories over a century of Australian Catholic lives and, then, proceed to move
laterally across intersecting families, friendships and place.
Anne Keary’s work presented here began several decades ago—first as a fem-
inist, phenomenological account of lived, multigenerational relations within and
across her family around growing up Catholic in Australia, around Catholic
schooling and childhood. Anne’s doctoral thesis, written in North Queensland while
she was working in Indigenous community education, was a powerful, prototypical
feminist autobiographical case study. It was written in an era where matters of
gendered standpoint, of embodied and autobiographical history and life experience,
were just emerging in social sciences and research and doctoral studies. It was then
and remains a groundbreaking, brave, important account of the intergenerational
exchange of gendered identity and mother/daughter relations, spirituality and cul-
tural practices. I strongly recommend it for all readers, especially those working
through that (often subliminal) autobiographical relationship between their schol-
arship and their own lives.
Here, several decades later—Anne has joined with her Melbourne lifelong
friends and family, and her research collaborators to extend that dialogue and
exchange across time and place, across multiple generations and families. The result
is a truly multi-voiced, living dialogue—of women’s stories still in formation and
exchange—accounts of how these women’s lives, beliefs and spirituality, relations
with mothers, grandmothers, daughters and grandchildren, aunties and nieces
continue to weave a rich multigenerational tale and account of spirituality lost and
gained, of life continuity and disruption, of abuse and neglect, of educational
achievement and frustration, of work and profession and career, and often, of a
feminist ethics of care. As it speaks here, this dialogue is a model of healing, love
and care through memory work.
I grew up as part of a small Lutheran, post-war German immigrant community in
Western Canada—like most, never fully aware in my own agnostic, adult common
sense about how formative and significant that childhood might come to be. As part
of a post-war generation of New Canadians, our focus was on reinvention of the self
in every way—through social movements, through feminism and civil rights
moments, through an ecumenical spirituality that readily embraced and melded the
godly and the flaky, secular and non-secular, the straight and unstraight, and found
value in all kinds of worldly good works. How were any of us to know that this
was, indeed, part of a unique generational moment, moving past disastrous world
war and mass migrations, and leading to a climactic rise and decline of that gen-
erative and volatile relationship between capitalism and Protestantism that Weber
himself described during his early twentieth-century sojourns to the American
Midwest. So, that my first published book was on Luther, the Reformation and
literacy should have come as neither a surprise nor autobiographical anomaly to me.
But it did. Only to be followed by writings on feminism, media and public
pedagogies.
When I met Anne Keary in the 1990s and began to hear and read her stories of
Melbourne childhood, schooling and church—I knew little of the history of Irish
Catholics in Australia. Unlike the Irish diaspora in the Eastern United States or
Foreword ix
Canada—the Australian Irish Catholic diaspora was defined by the British penal
colony—with the forced transmigration of a economically, culturally and politically
marginalised community to what, for many, became a multigenerational history of
division and exclusion. Education, Work and Catholic Life is a further contribution
to this history. And it is important to reconnoitre the Catholic church once again as
a historically colonising institution—with Indigenous Australians subjected to
forced family separation, residential schooling, indentured labour, religious
indoctrination as part of a larger historical programme of genocide and
linguisticide.
So we can place these women’s stories, these histories, and these accounts
against that concomitant history—and the history of a post-war Australia where
White feminism has had a profound effect in reshaping everyday life and labour,
governance, institutions and families over the past four decades. We can reconsider
these stories as set against a narrative backdrop of a Catholic church in transition
and crisis, from Vatican II to the current situation—of an Australian Catholic
culture still coming to grips with its own unique and traumatic history, and of the
resilience and power of these Australian women’s culture, generational continuities
and exchanges, and, indeed, feminism in dynamic action. What I take away from
these stories is an abiding reassurance about the value and power of generational
exchange—a sense that no matter what happens to these institutions that we call
religions—there is a spiritual, emotional and political momentum that resides in
women’s culture, in the relationships between women as friends, colleagues,
partners, mothers, aunties, nieces, daughters and granddaughters. It is these that
matter and shape everyday lives, memories and futures—more than any priesthood,
patriarchy or bureaucracy.
I have received support and encouragement from many people throughout the
writing of this book. In particular, I wish to thank my mother, aunty, sisters, nieces
and cousins for participating in the study and playing such a wonderful, loving role
in my maternal genealogy. I thank them for always being in the background,
showing interest and offering emotional support.
I thank my school-friends and their mothers for participating in the study. The
mother–daughter interviews were memorable moments and took me back to the
familiarity of my growing-up years. I thank these women and my family for gen-
erously for sharing stories of memorabilia passed among mothers and daughters and
providing access to photographs.
It has been a fantastic journey writing this book with four colleagues. I have
treasured our conversations and their enthusiasm for the project. Ronnie has been
with me on this lifelong journey. Lucas, Kirsten and Julie, as outsiders to the
research field engaged with the project in a questioning but respectful way. I thank
them for providing continual support for the writing of this book.
I wish to thank Prof. Carmen Luke who supervised the original 1990s study
which took the form of a Ph.D. thesis. Carmen was always there to challenge and
extend my ideas and thoughts. She diligently read draft after draft as I passed
through various stages of the writing process. I thank her for writing the foreword to
this book.
I was awarded a Queensland University post-graduate scholarship in 1996. This
scholarship enabled me to complete my Ph.D. and experience the intellectual
stimulation and rigour of an academic community. The second phase of the study
received financial support from the Faculty of Education, Monash University.
My partner Gunther and my extended family and friends have also provided
support in many forms; reading drafts, making cups of tea, conversations over a
glass of wine and just always being there. My Ph.D. thesis was written in far north
Queensland at Mission Beach, with much of the writing taking place on my friend
Sandra’s veranda which looks across to Mt Bartle Frere.
xi
xii Acknowledgements
I thank Star of the Sea College, Gardenvale for providing the co-authors access
to, what Ronnie and I knew as the Parlour Room, to hold conversations and a
writing retreat. My gratitude is extended to Pennie White for formatting the
manuscript and providing valuable advice. I am also appreciative of the support I
received from Springer Publishers especially Nick Melchior who understood the
essence of the project from the beginning.
The manuscript of this book although largely written in the bayside area of
Melbourne where I grew up and at Waratah Bay in South Gippsland, Victoria also
travelled with me to many destinations including Haifa and Jerusalem, Israel; Lucca
and Rome, Italy and in its final stages to Prague in the Czech Republic.
I would like to thank the three anonymous reviewers who have helped to make
the analysis stronger through their thoughtful comments and feedback.
Finally, I thank all those women whose dialogue and music I have listened to,
whose literature I have read, and whose works of art, craftwork and photography I
have viewed. By learning of other women’s efforts to disrupt and disentangle
traditionally prescribed female roles, I began to question, seek explanations and
further my understanding of my own maternal story.
Contents
Part I Beginnings
1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Anne Keary
2 Catholic Mothers and Daughters: A Conversational Tale
of Two Families . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
Anne Keary and Ronnie Egan
3 My Maternal Genealogy: Remembering and Looking Back . . . . . . 39
Anne Keary
4 Girls and Catholic Education . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57
Anne Keary and Kirsten Hutchison
xiii
xiv Contents
Anne Keary
Abstract The book documents the narratives of 13 maternal genealogies that span
the early twentieth to early twenty-first centuries. Catholic education and
upbringing are a focus of the study—the second generation attended Catholic girls
secondary colleges during the 1960s and 70s. The uniqueness of this study is its
focus on the conversations of three generations of Australian Anglo-European
mothers and daughters. Key themes of education, work and life transitions are
introduced as they intersect with generational change and continuity, gender and
religion. Extended longitudinal interviews provided a situated approach to locating
the everyday practices of these three generations of Australian women. Analysis of
interviews worked to construct representations of the mother–daughter relationship
that sit inside and outside dominant ideologies and belief systems apparent in their
histories particularly that of Catholicism. Recorded participant responses constitute
a form of oral storytelling, which illuminate the lived fabric of everyday life and
provide a rich portrayal of how these women view themselves and their relation-
ships as mothers and daughters. This chapter introduces the study and the
co-authors who grappled with the notion of insider–outsider positioning when
working with the interview data.
The Study
This study originated as a Ph.D. thesis awarded in 1997. The thesis set out to
examine the Catholic mother–daughter relationship and its socio-historical con-
struction within the discourse and pedagogy of Catholicism. It was a personal as
well as theoretical and political journey. Specifically, a matrilineal genealogy was
undertaken to explore the prevalent representations of the mother–daughter rela-
tionship within my own, as well as my school-friends’ maternal histories. The
search not only deconstructed dominant Catholic constructions and images of the
mother–daughter relationship but, also uncovered traces of maternal connections
and relations that had been hidden by, and within, patriarchal discourses; particu-
larly that of Catholicism.
The second phase of the research took place from 2016 to 2018; 20 years after
the initial phase. This phase focused on the third generation of young women; the
grand/daughters of the women who had participated in the 1990s study. Through a
qualitative longitudinal lens, it explores how this third generation has responded to
socio-economic, cultural, and religious shifts in contemporary times, and the
negotiation of resilience for study, employment, and professional, peer and familial
relationships.
A facet of the second phase of the study was the revisiting of the original
research participants. This involved an investigation of the temporal aspects of their
lives. Weeks (2007) contends that knowing about the past assists us to hold ‘the
present to account, denaturalizing and relativizing it, demonstrating that it is a
historical creation, suggesting its contingency’ (p. 3). By revisiting the memories
and experiences of the first and second generation of women the notion of change
and continuity is examined as it is situated within a socio-historical, cultural and
religious context. Past and present stories were narrated that tied together personal
and political undercurrents against a religious backdrop that marked familial
practices, routines and relationships. The intergenerational conversations, that were
grounded by reminiscences and viewpoints put on show the way in which grand-
mothers, mothers and daughters contour each other’s subjectivity.
Qualitative Research
Qualitative research is a complex and intricate process going back and forth
between raw and sensitive data and the conceptual understandings that underpin
and interpret it. This study is not about ‘what is really going on’. Extricating
prospective and retrospective reflections over a period of 20 years is a means of
exploring contingency. A reflexive and comparative investigation is possible that
acknowledges that the interpretations, for both the interviewer and the interviewee,
were incremental and recursive. There are numerous tales to narrate, and McLeod
(2003) suggests that this is embellished in longitudinal studies: ‘To say that there
are “multiple stories” might appear to be a kind of lazy postmodernism, but this is
not a call for “anything goes” or for the reiteration of indeterminacy’ (p. 209).
Instead, each story requires working in accordance with its ‘evidence’, to illuminate
how one account is feasible, how it could perhaps be more substantial than another.
This interpretation occurs across and against key explanatory frames, and instead of
synthesising, the intent is to scrutinise using idiosyncratic perspectives and silences
to gain a glimpse of the intricacy of subjectivity from a longitudinal and historical
viewpoint (McLeod, 2003).
A number of strands of researching social change are woven together in this
study that emerge from a range of methods including feminist scholarship, cultural
studies, sociology, history and psychoanalytic traditions. Both phases of the
research were grounded by a feminist stance because the research is for and about
girls and women. Hirsch and Smith (2002) contend that ‘feminist scholarship has
Qualitative Research 5
been driven by the desire to redefine culture from the perspective of women through
the retrieval and inclusion of women’s work, stories and artefacts’ (p. 30). This is
not to say that feminist scholarship can be summarised in a tidy way or drawn
together with a common thread. This kind of scholarship extends flexibly in
numerous irregular ways simultaneously (Mosmann & Rademaker, 2015).
Feminism has been fascinated for a long time with recollecting the ‘culture of
our mothers’ and recapping stories of their lives. Since the 1970s, there has been an
upsurge in women’s life-writing and memoir; ‘personal memories of mothers have
taken on a public or collective significance’ (Stephens, 2005, p. 1). Mothers have
been politicised and convolutedly tied up with ‘issues of power and hegemony’
(Hirsch & Smith, 2002, p. 6). Snitow and DuPleiss (1998) describe feminism itself
as a ‘mother who did not give enough’ (p. 20). Stephens argues that the ‘nurturing’
mother has been overlooked in feminist recollections and that this is of ‘profound
cultural significance’ (p. 1). Motherhood represents the amalgamation of the social
and the individual in a public–private way. There are multiple ways of interpreting
and understanding maternal memories and an analysis of the mother–daughter
relationship offers just one perspective.
Religious studies have also been impacted on by feminist scholarship in multiple
and plural ways. In 1981, Ruether and Keller suggested that the aim of feminism in
religious studies is twofold. The first involves charting the patriarchal bias in tra-
ditional religion and exposing the historical male bias against women in the
scriptures (see Ruether, 1974; Daly, 1968). This movement highlighted the
marginalisation and exclusion of women in the Christian tradition and the impact
this had consciously, and unconsciously, on the symbolic creation of Christian
theology. The second task of feminist studies in religion, they contend, is to locate
an alternative Christian chronology and heritage which embraces the inclusion of
women. An increasing diversity of literature is available that examines the asso-
ciation between feminism and religion (see Journals ‘Feminist Theology’ and
‘Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion’). The first phase of this research took up
this twofold approach.
Both phases of the research were open-ended and intentional and lent themselves
to a dynamic and fluid process. A multi-methodological was employed that aimed
to disrupt the linear and logocentric traditional academic genre. Semi-structured
interviews, photographs, memorabilia, and cultural artefacts such as school
magazines, letters and objects passed between mothers and daughters constituted
the data for analysis. The research tells partial stories and histories which express
attitudes, biases, nuances and personal viewpoints.
Following the conceptual path of French feminist and psychoanalyst Luce
Irigaray, the research traces women’ s meanings and understandings of their own
genealogies which can be located in the maternal as a site of origin. Irigaray (1993)
contends that daughters need to reassert themselves within the genealogy of
woman. As daughters, we need to retrace the female family tree and position
ourselves within the ancestry of our mothers and maternal grandmothers and
great-grandmothers before their names are lost and forgotten. The rich and densely
interwoven fabric of women’s history requires highlighting and remembering so
6 1 Introduction
The book partially unravels connections between memory and the stories told about
individual histories through a feminist autobiographical lens. This approach
acknowledges that women’s insights into their experiences, as mothers and
daughters, are critical to social analysis. These memories come into being in the
following ways:
The first has to do with the way memory shapes the stories we tell, in the present, about the
past especially stories about our own lives. The second has to do with what it is that makes
us remember: the prompts, the pretexts, of memory; the reminders of the past that remain in
the present (Kuhn, 1995, p. 3).
The case histories are about stories that unfold across the different phases of
interviews and show ‘how prospective research can confound analytic closure …
[and] the accumulation of narratives of self may provide a route to move beyond the
life as told to gain insight into the life as lived as well as other possible unlived lives
that fall away’ (Holland & Thomson, 2009, p. 453). Individual auto/biographies are
situated within wider socio-historical and religious processes. These case histories
show the challenges of building stable fixed interpretations of qualitative longitu-
dinal data.
Catholicism
A range of belief systems are represented in this study with Catholicism historically
drawing the three generations of women together. Religious identity was important
to many of the women and central to their sense of community at different points of
8 1 Introduction
time. Across the three generations some women associated with organised religions
such as the Catholic church, while others viewed religious identification as social
identity rather than religious affiliation and some women described themselves as
non-believers. Some women endorsed Catholicism as an identity marker but their
belief in God and their association with the Catholic church as an institution, at
times, remained separate.
Beckford (2003) taking a sociological view argues that groups and societies
explain religion and spirituality in different ways and the process of defining it gives
critical pointers to the role religion and the religious play in society. The topic of
religion, faith and spirituality formed the backdrop to this study and arose in
interviews around identity, family, community, schooling, and relationships.
Religion was ascribed to most of Generation 1, and to all of Generation 2 through
their Catholic schooling and at different levels in the home. The notion of belonging
to the Catholic church swayed for many throughout their lifetime. Tensions in
recent times have increased with the extent of the sexual abuse by Catholic clergy
being made public knowledge. This is discussed in Chap. 9.
Vatican II occurred when Generation 2 were attending Catholic schools. It was a
significant transformative moment in the Catholic church’s history encompassing
the constitution, decrees and pronouncements brought down by the Vatican council
between 1962 and 1965. The principles fostered reform in the Church’s institutions
and teachings so as to align them to more contemporary societal circumstances. For
some Generation 1 women, it presented challenges in that their Catholic ways did
not match with how their daughters were being educated at Catholic schools. My
mother in 1994 remarked when discussing Vatican II:
I got to the stage where I would talk about God and the aspirations and all the other things
that went with the Catholic faith in a lovely Irish way and that was all boohooed by the
younger people. They didn’t go for that at all. We were square (Interview 1994).
Within this era of dramatic cultural change within the Catholic church,
Generation 1 mothers were raising their daughters in a religious way that was taking
on different forms and pedagogies at the Catholic educational level.
Most of the first generation of women were raised Catholic, but two women
converted to Catholicism when they married. Peg (Generation 1) shared her story:
I was an Anglican, I was a very strict Anglican too. Protestants don’t really worry terribly
much about the church, but I went every week, every Sunday sometimes twice, it was quite
a big part of my life. It really took I suppose nearly three years to decide that I’d marry my
husband. I knew that I would never marry a person that I didn’t share some religion with
because it was a big part of my life. I had instructions from a wonderful priest when I did
decide that I would accept. I did a lot of research into it, I read, it wasn’t done lightly. I had
support from my mother who didn’t quite understand it, but I had no big obstacles in my
way. I’m pleased I did because I think marriage has enough…, I think that having one
religion is one hurdle you don’t have to worry about. So that was a happy time and I’ve
never regretted that after years of marriage (Interview 1995).
Catholicism 9
Religious identification was strongest amongst the older generation of women but
similarly with the younger generations took on a range of everyday practices. Audrey
in 2016, after reading the transcript of her 1995 interview commented, ‘I still probably
feel the same way in terms of spirituality, in terms of religion. I think the culture
around us has changed though; it keeps moving, it’s dynamic’ (Interview 2016).
Audrey’s daughter, Andrea (Generation 2) saw religion differently to her mother:
I don’t pray to a god. Do I know if there is one out there, I don’t know and that’s okay? But I
believe in people and I guess that’s my spirituality. I believe in the difference people can make
in each other’s lives and I believe that when people die, they live on in you and they leave
something of themselves in you. So, in that way even when you die there is still a part of you
that is in the people that loved you. But in terms of the church I wouldn’t go to church unless
it’s for an occasion, for a wedding or something. Now, I quite like the architecture and if I went
it would just be for looking around. But no, I don’t follow, I wouldn’t call myself religious.
I wouldn’t say I’m an atheist either because I’m not sure what is out there (Interview 2016).
How the women spoke of the influence of Catholicism on their religious asso-
ciation varied from it being part of the make-up of who they were to one of total
rejection of its tenets. Sometimes the rejection was aimed at the Catholic church as
an institution. Pam (Generation 2) angrily stated in 1995, ‘I hate the Catholic
church, I hate them with a vehemence’. Her mother Nadia responded, ‘I know you
do, you’re very bitter’. Pam retorted, ‘I resent them… I am not tolerant of the
Catholic church, they twisted my life’. In her 2016 interview with her sister Cilla,
Pam further explained how she felt towards the Catholic church:
I think Catholicism has a lot to answer for, and you know I think that when I grew up—
until I gave it up or decided I didn’t want to be part of it anymore—it was a really
confronting sort of time. Because when I started to go to church as a little kid, it was still in
Latin, and then it changed to where they spoke English, and you could actually understand
what they were talking about. But the string of Catholic priests in the western suburbs really
left a lot to be desired. They were priests who preached the hellfire and brimstone and you’d
go to hell if you didn’t go to confession every week, and it was a culture of fear. I think I
resent that. I think that it made me a scared little child in terms of my religion, and I don’t
think any religion—whether it’s Catholic or Islam or Buddhism should make the people it
embraces scared…I’m not angry, I just think that it was a sad state of affairs, and it
probably affected my outlook on religion full stop (Interview 2016).
Lands, that really sort of changed my mind about things, when I could actually see that
people’s belonging to the country, and the spirit in the country—that really affected me. So
that sort of has changed my thinking about I won’t call it religion, I’ll call it our place in the
world (Interview 2016).
Debra (Generation 3), Pam’s niece who was in her late 20s at the time of the
interview, was still exploring what spirituality meant to her:
I don’t have a certain religion that’s good or bad or anything. At this stage I have no idea
what I want to believe or not. There’re so many different religions out there, what is real,
what is not? Is there a true God? Is there many Gods? I think it’s what you want to believe.
It’s like okay so people believe in crystals and other people are like this is just mumbo
jumbo but it’s if you believe in something so much then it actually helps you. This crystal is
for this, this crystal is for that and people believe in it. Cool. That’s their thing. It’s like if
you’re sick ‘oh here take this drug and then someone has the placebo’. You think you still
have it and people get better from that placebo. It’s a placebo effect (Interview 2016).
Debra went onto comment on the hope and sense of community, church can
bring to people including her grandmother Nadia, ‘She [Nadia] likes to go to church
still, go to mass. I think it just brings hope to people…It’s a little community’
(Interview 2016).
Sue (Generation 2), like Pam, commented on the negative impact being raised
Catholic had on her sense of self:
I think the Catholic church has been a burden… that I’ve had to overcome to see a more
positive side of it. I think it restrained, encouraged guilt in me, I don’t think it encouraged
an open relationship between parents and their children. It was one of subject and master…
I think the Catholic church set up a very negative framework for my mother-daughter
relationship (Interview 1995).
In spite of the Catholic church being burdensome, Sue in conversation with her
mother Mona and sister Ronnie spoke of the importance of Gospel values in her
life.
Well, it would shock Mum, but I have a really strong faith, I see it as sort of separate from
the church., I feel really close to God, but I find lots of the church really anathema to me.
I sometimes have to teach religion and I find teaching its morality very easy, Gospel values
I find really easy to teach but I have great difficulty supporting a lot of the ritual of the
church. I find the underlying message of the church very valuable and important in my life
(Interview 2015).
Felicity (Generation 3), Sue’s daughter, talked of the values she gained from her
Catholic schooling. She sees herself as a spiritual person, but this spirituality is not
centred on organised religion.
Yes, definitely spirituality is [important in my life] …but whether or not it’s an organised
religion that’s important, perhaps not. I think I would consider myself to be quite a spiritual
person, and I’ve got strong values about certain things, particularly about the environment
and animals. I certainly think that the empathy that Jane [my sister] and I have for the world
around us, is a product of the fact that we went to school in an environment that espoused
those values, and you might not necessarily get those things in a non-religious school
(Interview 2015).
Catholicism 11
Sally (Generation 2) spoke of how her family in the 1960s were ‘lay Catholics’.
Lay Catholics are usually defined as the ordinary members of the church who do
not promise their life to a religious order or congregation. Sally explained the idea
of ‘laity’ in a slightly different way positioning her family on ‘the outer’ realms of
practicing Catholics.
We were never forced to go to Mass, and I remember thinking there were Catholic families
and other Catholic families. We were another Catholic family. And we were never forced to
go to mass and grace wasn’t strongly, said, at Christmas time only. We were lay Catholics
weren’t we, the outer, we didn’t say the rosary at home (Interview 1995).
Sally’s daughters viewed religion in distinct ways. Her eldest daughter Katelyn
in 2016 noted that ‘[Catholicism] probably doesn’t fit in my life’. Whereas her two
younger twin sisters talked about the act of prayer being important in their lives but
not the church as an institution. Hannah summed up her feelings about being a
Catholic as ‘I’m not a very good Catholic’.
Hannah: I still pray every night before I go to bed, but you would never see me go to
church… not because I don’t believe, but more so I didn’t find it that interesting. Pretty
much I found it a bit boring and I -
Sarah: It was. I only went because it made me feel better about going. Like I like the
thought that there is -
Hannah: There’s someone up there.
Sarah: Someone up there that’s going to make things okay. And I don’t really follow what
the church thinks -
Hannah: No.
Sarah: - faith and all of that sort of stuff but I -
Hannah: I mean there’s a few things I don’t so much agree with, but then I like to think that
there actually is someone up there and we all go up there.
Sarah: I pray every night thinking that that will cover me – well not me but my family and –
sorry, not just me but obviously I don’t just pray for myself but thinking that that [prayer]
will protect – because that’s out of my control. I can’t protect my family from you know
sickness and tragedy and all that sort of stuff but if -
Hannah: Like when someone asks if you’re Catholic…I say I’m not a very good Catholic
(Interview 2016).
Anna (Generation 3), Cath’s daughter, noted that religion is not important to her
‘but it used to be’. She explained
Mum and dad wanted to send us to religious schools, so that we had that exposure and then
after that it was going to be up to us, whether we followed that through. I liked that
thinking. As soon as it was my choice, I dropped religion, I’ve never really connected with
it (Interview 2016).
When asked about her paid work at a church, Anna suggested that there are
different types of faith:
It is sort of funny. I was supposed to be filling in as an admin assistant for a couple of
months, and then I’ve just stayed on. It’s quite funny actually, everyone in the office is not
very religious at all, even the minister, he’s got faith, but it’s a different sort of faith
(Interview 2016).
Like Cooper and Rogers (2015) in their study on mothering, the co-authors of this
book grappled with notions of ‘insider’ and ‘outsider’ positions within the research
process. We asked questions about how candid, ethical and considerate we can
really be in locating the self within the research process as participant-observers
(Anne and Ronnie) and as outsider co-authors (Lucas, Kirsten and Julie). As
insiders, we have familiarity with the data and research context and process,
whereas the outsider c-authors gained insight through my insider positioning.
Dilemmas of choice arose as aspects of the interview data was chosen or left out in
the process of writing up the interview data. That is, the shift from the research
participants voices to the authors’ interpretations involved making decisions about
what interview data to include and exclude, how to include it and in what form.
When drafting the chapters, we foreground the stories of a select group of research
participants, while other stories form the backdrop of the larger narrative. In part,
the narrative critiques patriarchal discourses such as Catholicism so the ensuing
story is about, and for, women; still masculinist social and cultural theories are
employed to further ground the analysis. This is not to say as Cooper and Rogers
state that we ‘consider the use of feminist methods as crucial in the reciprocal and
relational understanding of personal enquiry’ (p. 1). We as researchers scrutinise the
fluidity of the interpersonal and intrapersonal while reading and rereading the
interview data as insiders and outsiders.
Authors: Insider/Outsider Perspective 13
Four colleagues co-authored chapters of the book. Ronnie Egan (Chap. 3) and I,
in our conversations, share stories of similar histories yet each bring different
versions of the same event to the writing process. Three of the co-authors—Lucas
Walsh (Chaps. 4–6), Kirsten Hutchison (Chap. 7) and Julie Faulkner (Chaps. 9 and
10)—as non-Catholics and researchers who did not know the research participants
continually returned to the assumptions that I, as an insider, made. They wanted to
know more about the taken-for-granted knowledge, rituals and ideas that seemed
evident to me but were a mystery to them. This ongoing questioning led to a deeper
analysis and a more nuanced account.
The co-authors have their own stories to tell about their involvement in the
project. These stories are told below.
I come to this project, with Anne, as an insider with an insider’s experience and
sensibility of the small Catholic community both of us grew up in. Anne’s research
is about how our Catholic upbringing has seeped into and shaped our intergener-
ational relationships with our mothers, sisters, nieces and my daughter. Unlike the
other authors, Anne and I were participant researchers; the stories in her research
are our stories and those of our families and friends. There is an intimacy attached
to them that Anne has taken the utmost respect to represent.
I’ve known Anne for 55 years and been in contact with her continuously over
that period, her invitation to work with her on this project was a gift. We had the
opportunity to revisit and share understandings of events, times and experiences,
everyday conversations that we’ve had over 55 years. Our talks allowed us to
explore her interviews with our families and how they shifted over time. Things that
weren’t discussed in the interviews 20 years ago were able to be discussed in the
more recent ones, family violence, mental illness and abusive priests were exam-
ined and understood anew. The temporal dimension changed us. We’re friends with
a horizontal genealogy, with shared intimate knowledge about one another’s
families and friends, ‘retrospective narratives of the past that fit with the present’.
In this project we’ve had the opportunity to collaborate together, have discus-
sions about our lives, our histories, the things that bind and differentiate us; of
immersing ourselves in the words of our family members, of noticing the simi-
larities and differences of one another’s memories and then tracking that as the
experience unfolds, finishing one another’s sentences within churches where we
grew up through rituals, in gardens we knew as children, in a convent that contained
us through adolescence. This was enhanced through our experience of reading and
reflecting on other women’s perspectives in the literature, watching for the reso-
nance and variance with our memories, our conversations, families and friends’
14 1 Introduction
stories, seeing how time changes those recollections while laughing or crying about
them.
I’m grateful to my old mate Anne for asking me to write with her for this book.
This is our cultural story, the story of our family and friends which has been so
eloquently captured by Anne. Although insiders in this story we’re also outsiders in
the faith and the directions our lives have taken but the last word is saved for our
mothers. They might judge us as self-indulgent, drawing too much attention to
ourselves, showing off, placing our lives and those of our women family members
under a microscope; but alongside this, we honour, Mona and Marie.
Having worked with Anne, I became aware of the treasure-trove of stories and often
profound insights that Anne had collected for this book. As a researcher of young
people and their transitions from school to post-school life, I readily accepted her
offer to contribute to this volume. Working my way through stories was a richly
rewarding and sometimes deeply moving experience. But there were also chal-
lenging questions. The first was: how to make sense of all this ‘data’ from across
decades? Part of this challenge was to make narrative sense of these complex and
nuanced life experiences, and then locate them within wider frame. Echoing the
wider literature, women’s transitions are not neat. They are relational and frequently
‘disrupted’, in the sense that they are not linear and sometimes, the participants’
stories painted a different picture to the one visible in the wider data. Life is messy
and resists reduction and simple categorisation. But there were continuities and
themes across generations and in relation to wider trends in education and work,
and I have tried to capture some of these through a historical and sociological lens.
The second challenge, as a male researcher, was a keen awareness that I was
writing about the lives of women. The chapters I co-wrote were in part one male
academic’s attempt to understand complex biographies from an outsider perspec-
tive. To what extent is my interpretation of their testimonies framed by a mas-
culinist, privileged perspective? In the end, the best I could do was to try to locate
their voices in the wider data and scholarly research and ask: what is the data
saying? And I am treating it with the respect and nuance that it deserves? This leads
to the third challenge: how to do justice to this nuance, particularly in the absence of
deeper contextual knowledge of their stories. The result is admittedly imperfect and
is itself sometimes messy, but it does try to locate the testimonies of participants in
an intergenerational and historical context. But part of the power of this book is that
successive chapters delve deeper into, and unpack the testimonies of, interviewees
in more detailed and nuanced ways, moving from the macro, broad brushstrokes of
my analysis to the micro level of individual memory and everyday experience.
Authors: Insider/Outsider Perspective 15
These are viewed through variously conceptual lenses that provide, for example,
feminist perspectives and a richer window onto the incomplete mosaic of the stories
in this book.
As a colleague and friend, I was delighted to receive the offer from Anne to co-write
a chapter for this volume. It has been an opportunity to participate in a longitudinal
study of three generations of women’s lives, exploring memory, storytelling and
social change. It has involved dialogue and meditation on how faith, spirituality,
schooling, gender interweave to produce subjectivities and identities. One strand of
my research has explored women’s lives and the significant and largely invisible
maternal labour involved in resourcing and supporting their children’s education
through their experience of homework. Anne’s study investigates another dimen-
sion of women’s lives rarely discussed, the relationships between mothering and
faith, and illustrates the power of longitudinal, ethnographic studies to show
nuanced changes over time.
My involvement with Anne’s data through numerous conversations, collabora-
tive analysis and co-writing revisited the personal and intimate stories of these
Catholic women shared with Anne over many years. Our conversations were
extensive and exhilarating, simultaneously poignant, hilarious, confronting, con-
founding, challenging, profound. Threaded throughout the women’s narratives are
tensions and anxieties around choices made by these mothers over generations,
regarding their daughters’ education and the articulation and questioning of deeply
held religious and spiritual beliefs, shifting and evolving through generations. This
blend of historical narratives, stories of everyday life, feminist theology, personal
beliefs about mothering and education and articulation of religious and spiritual
values combine to offer unique perspectives on school choice, as gendered and
deeply emotional work.
This analysis of maternal histories of Catholic schooling makes visible the
pedagogies of everyday life that shape decisions about education and schooling that
are not often discussed, and is informed by an understanding of ‘research subjects
whose inner worlds cannot be understood without knowledge of their experiences
in the world, and whose experiences of the world cannot be understood without
knowledge of the way in which the inner worlds allow them to experience the outer
world’ (Hollway & Jefferson, 2000, p. 5).
As Bourdieu reminds us, in conditions of proximity, where the object of study is
the researcher’s own worlds, the research process must involve conscious explo-
ration of researchers’ dispositions, coupled with a methodology which invites
participants to scrutinise interpretations and contribute to their representations as
objects of study (Bourdieu, 1990). This chapter is an example of the power of
16 1 Introduction
There is a story circulating that has a number of variations in the telling, but
basically goes like this:
Two young fish were swimming past an older fish who said to them as they passed ‘Hi boys
– how’s the water?’
‘Good,’ they nodded as they swam by him. Once out of earshot, one turned to the other and
said, ‘What’s the water?’
‘Dunno,’ he replied.
And they swam on.
It’s the water that is being explored in this book. As a teacher researching her
own practice, I had to learn to ‘make the familiar strange’, as anthropologist
Clifford Geertz coined it in the 1970s. It’s an exhausting process to continually
question the assumptions underpinning ‘common sense’ ways of being. These
assumptions have been inculcated in our thinking from a young age and accepted
by us long ago as ‘given’. It is often only when we are confronted by a culturally
different proposition that we might question our own premises and wonder at their
own arbitrariness. It can take us down risky paths—in my case, ‘school’ became an
increasingly odd and ill-fitting vehicle for young people’s learning. My research led
me to conclude most learning that mattered occurred for students out of school,
which shook the foundations of my until now unquestioned professional certainties.
This unsettling conviction was realigned for me by a colleague, who observed that
too many PhDs she had read ‘merely confirmed what the researcher thought she
already knew’. There was no element of surprise, and therefore, of learning. The
realisation stimulated my research interests and now, as I write, my focus is
Catholic mother–daughter relationships and the network of (sometimes tacit)
beliefs, values and understandings within which they sit.
Anne perhaps deliberately chose to co-write with non-Catholic friends and
colleagues. Writing collaboratively has many benefits, and ‘making the familiar
strange’ is not the least of them. As we write, discuss and write again, we are
recalibrating our own Catholic/non-Catholic childhoods, critical moments, rela-
tionships, views of the world. As we move from the particular to the universal and
back again, wrestling with theory in the hope of illuminating our practices and
perspectives, we hone the lens through which we examine our own lives. It is
Bakhtin’s dialogism in action and feels like a cognitive gym workout. And like a
Authors: Insider/Outsider Perspective 17
Part 1 provides a backdrop for the book and sets the scene. Following on from the
introduction, Chap. 2 tells the story of my maternal genealogy. It entails is a series
of conversations between me and a research participant Ronnie Egan, who is an
academic in the field of social work. Our stories recount tales of growing up
Catholic in the middle-class bayside suburbs of Melbourne, Australia. We engaged
in a series of conversations to explore the different interpretations we have of our
Catholic upbringing and the way it was infused by, and within our relationship with
our mothers. Excerpts of these conversations which took place in five different
locations, that had resonance to our life transitions, are interspersed throughout the
chapters of this book. Chapter 3 tells the story of my great grandmother and
grandmother going back through the maternal line. The stories of these women
made visible their mark on history and how they impacted on my biographical past
and the vertical mother–daughter and horizontal ‘sisterhood’ genealogies. Aspects
of the way in which three generations of mothers and daughters’ identity is shaped
by, and through, a Catholic education are uncovered in Chap. 4. Pedagogical
ideologies are explored that traverse the home, church and school. It is as adults,
although young adults at times, that the research participants now look back and
assess what happened early on in their life. From conversations years later that
meaning is made of the events which influenced the construction of the spiritual
feminine self. Steedman (1992) describes this memory work as:
children do not possess a social analysis of what is happening to them or around them, so
the landscape and the picture it presents have to remain a background, taking on meaning
later, from different circumstances. Understanding of the dream built up layers, over a
period of time (p. 22).
18 1 Introduction
This section of the book provides a historical and sociological analysis of the
post-school transitions of four generations of Australian women. The post-school
narratives begin in the early twentieth century with tales of the mothers of the older
generation who participated in this study. The youngest generation provided
research data which is current, dynamic and fluid as some of them are still com-
pleting school and making decisions about future pathways. Most of the first
generation attended Catholic schools, all of the second generations were educated in
the Catholic way whilst for the younger generation, education took on varying
religious as well as secular forms. Though Catholicism is not explicitly focused on,
a Catholic education permeates intergenerational relationships, values, and belief
systems.
The co-authors of these chapters come from different disciplinary backgrounds.
Anne, the principal researcher, leans towards a critical feminist stance whilst Lucas
understands the study from a sociological tradition that is often masculinist in its
approach. Our two different approaches to research led to tensions as well as
consistencies in our assumptions about research. It provided for robust discussion
and critique of the writing process. We both acknowledge the limitations of an
approach where there is ‘an unshaken faith in the ultimate arrival at essential truth
through the empirical method of accumulation of knowledge, knowledge about
women’ (Kamuf, 2017, p. 109). We recognise the plurality of voices and localities
that situate women and these chapters represent one particular angle on Catholic
women’s transitions post school. We both agree that the aim of this section is to
foreground the perspectives of the girls and women represented in this study and to
locate them against the wider national and international literature on women’s
post-school transitions. The testimonies of the women confirm but also, at times,
disrupt ideas which emerge from the literature.
A major theme of this section of the book is continuity and change in the
post-school transitions of the women interviewed. In this study, post-school tran-
sitions were impacted by a range of policies, practices and choices. Within the
stories, the focus is on the notion of continuity and change across generations,
highlighting, for example, how ‘interruptions’ to working life such as being a
full-time carer of children has changed in some ways but stayed the same in others.
The types of jobs undertaken also show that the types of study and work undertaken
post-school are in the main gendered. Teaching and health care feature as pathways
of the research participants across the generations. The testimonies foreground the
gendered nature of the education and transitions to work, care and post-school life
in general, although this too in some ways is changing.
The participants’ testimonies are located in the broader context of women’s
participation in education and training. It draws upon the wider literature about
women’s pathways through school and into post-school vocational education and
training and university. In setting this context, the discussion looks at the historical
Overview of the Book 19
data and sociological implications, but with less emphasis on the theoretical and in
particular feminist frames adopted in other sections of this book.
In this section of the book, the authors adopt a feminist auto/biographical approach
that provides moving and powerful insights into the inter/generational experiences
of the research participants. The mothers and daughters’ experiences are studied
from the subjective particularities of their own perceptions.
Stanley (2012), drawing on the work of Fonow and Cook (1991) identifies the
methodological characteristics of feminist research and its positioning within a
‘reflexive concern with gender’ as:
…a way of re/seeing the social world, the rejection of the claimed objectivity/subjectivity
dichotomy, a concern with researching and theorising experience, and an insistence on
ethics as a facet of these others” (pp. 5–6).
Like Stanley, the authors are concerned with ‘constructing rather than discov-
ering social reality’. The conceptual analysis, in these chapters, by disentangling
women’s memories and stories not only ‘construct social reality’ but moreover
deconstruct and re-position the production of culture and religion as they are played
out in women’s memories of their Catholic genealogical histories.
Chapter 8 acts as a segue from Part II and takes a closer look at post-school
transitions and mobility. In Chap. 9, ideas associated with the family, education and
church are examined intertwining the politics of the Catholic church and the
challenges it presented to women’s belief systems. Chapter 10 is a case study of
four women’s hope and dreams that depict parallel stories played out across
50 years. Stories that memorabilia tell about mother–daughter exchanges are related
in Chap. 11. This chapter shows that things can portray significant meanings and
provide a space for the maternal and women. A theme which is the backdrop to the
book—friendship between, and among women—acts as means of concluding the
book along with an epilogue which is an excerpt from my niece Christina’s travel
diary.
20 1 Introduction
Conclusion
The original study entailed a feminist genealogical quest for the mother–daughter
relationship as it is constituted in Catholic discourse. By establishing a conceptual
space for women to search back through their genealogy to rewrite, remediate and
reconceive of their relationship as mothers and daughters it aimed to uncover the
debt that Catholic theology owes to the ‘maternal figure’. The second phase of the
research took a longitudinal perspective and focused on the transitional stages of the
youngest generation’s lives with a secondary focus being the changed religious,
social and cultural landscape of the original mother–daughter groups. The authors’
intent is to engage with analysis that can be accessible to women who are posi-
tioned differently—academics, the research participants themselves and women
shaped by diverse religious values and socio-economic and cultural beliefs.
Minh-Ha (1992), a Vietnamese filmmaker and literary theorist wrote, ‘Every
representation of truth involves elements of fiction, and difference between
so-called documentary and fiction in their depiction of reality is a question of
degrees of fictitiousness’ (p. 145). She goes onto explain the greater the attempt to
try to divide the split between the two ‘the deeper one gets entangled in the artifice
of boundaries’ (p. 145). This book blurs and fuses the boundaries between fiction
and oral history so that a form of reality is constructed that is partial, situated and
subjective.
References
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Bourdieu, P. (1990). In other words: Essays towards a reflexive sociology. Cambridge: Polity
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Cooper, L., & Rogers, C. (2015). Mothering and ‘insider’ dilemmas: Feminist sociologists in the
research process. Sociological Research Online, 20(2), 1–13.
Daly, M. (1968). The church and the second sex. New York: Harper & Row.
Fonow, M. M., & Cook, J. A. (Eds.). (1991). Beyond methodology: Feminist scholarship as lived
research. Indiana University Press.
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London: Routledge.
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References 21
Introduction
To provide some personal context, in between the two interview phases of this
longitudinal study both our mothers passed away in May 2005, great-grandchildren
were born, and a granddaughter died of cancer. Stories are a great way to share
memories and perspectives on the past. Our conversations are nostalgic and emotive
and are a reworking of our pasts that, at times, encapsulate fond memories full of
vigour and life. They offer mischievous reminisces of bold young women who
speak of the influence of social, cultural and religious tenets. Central to these stories
is the maternal relationship and how it was shaped by the everyday Catholic
agendas of the periods considered.
In preparation for the conversations, we exchanged feminist literature which had
informed and influenced our thinking about how we came to understand our
Catholic selves and the way it has shaped and continues to shape our lives and
relationships. Irigaray’s (2008) text ‘Conversations’ was the impetus for the dia-
logic approach that we took in our exchange. Irigaray is not concerned with reading
the truth but rather a conversation ‘passes on a truth that somehow is shareable by
others’ (p. xii). Ours is to discuss a:
place between two people… who question how they could create between them a shareable
world; a truth, an art, an ethics, a politics, which transcend each one but which they could
both share. Then the questioner and the respondent really exist and can alternately
exchange roles (p. xii).
Conversations
junctures of social and personal change (McLeod & Thomson, 2009). Kuhn (1995)
uses auto/biography as a means to uncover traces of the collective and historical
within her own life. She speaks of memory as ‘a position or point of view in the
current moment’ (p. 128). Memory uncaps material for us to examine, elucidate and
scrutinise so as to gain a better understanding and search for possibilities and ways
of understanding the interviews of our families. The conversations involved, as
Kuhn suggests a ‘staging of memory; it takes an enquiring attitude towards the past
and its (re) construction through memory’ (p. 157). Throughout these conversa-
tions, memory is evident in dis/similar and in/consistent ways and in some
instances, silence can be an aspect of memory. These conversations are self-edited
and reflect themes which are discussed, as well as themes which are glossed over,
not spoken about or edited out of the public version. Hodgkin and Radstone (2003)
explain that ‘memory may serve as an implacable reminder of what some might
prefer to see forgotten; or it may strive to forget it. It is at once the salve and the salt
in the wound’ (p. 237). Our conversations and the construction of this chapter
involves a complex and intricate process going back and forth between happy and
sad, raw and sensitive memories, and the conceptual understandings that underpin
and interpret them.
This chapter is not about ‘what is really going on’ (Lucey, Melody, &
Walkerdine, 2003, p. 283), but rather multiple meanings of time weave in and out
of our conversations which are referenced within specific contexts. Plural meanings
of temporality come through in these conversations. These temporal dimensions are
embellished and enhanced through the stories we tell and call on Irigaray’s (1993a)
concept of the seasonality of time that represents a prospective feminine con-
sciousness. In addition, the conversations refer to both linear historical time frames
as well as monumental temporal frames such as childhood, adolescence, work,
motherhood, ageing and death to explore the mother–daughter relationship across
several generations.
In our dialogic exchange, we bring to light how we believe we internalised,
resisted and rejected the ‘normative positionings’ that were available to us during
the various stages of our lives and the ongoing psychosocial challenges this has
presented to us. These norms did not just position us as individuals but more so
contoured our social and relational selves in terms of how we perceived the
‘conditions of possibility’ in relation to our mothers, teachers and peers. Davies
et al. (2001) contend that ‘Choice stems not so much from the individual but from
the conditions of possibility - the discourses which prescribe not only what is
desirable, but what is recognisable as an acceptable form of subjectivity’ (p. 172).
Our conversations, self- and collectively-monitor, how we wish to position our-
selves against a range of discourses—including those of culture, class, gender,
church, family and school.
This chapter presents the narratives of our two maternal family groups. We
engaged in five conversations in five different locations. Four of these conversations
are represented in this chapter. Excerpts from the other conversation are inter-
spersed throughout the chapters of this book. The choice of locations reflects our
own personal biographies and our experiences as lifelong friends. The locations and
26 2 Catholic Mothers and Daughters …
The first conversation took place at St. Finbar’s church, a suburban church in the
south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne. We met at this church school at the age of
four. During this period of time, our daily lives were contained by, and within, the
extended family, the local Catholic community and the immediate neighbouring
community. We both grew up in modest post World War II brick homes that
symbolised the safety and security of suburbia. St. Finbar’s primary school adjoins
the parish church where we attended mass and engaged with Catholic religious
rituals of ‘confession’ and ‘first communion’. Coffee night socials in the parish hall
represented the repertoire of activities that marked our entry into adolescence and
youthful social ways of being. In the 1960s and 1970s, St. Finbar’s was where
Catholic doctrine was taught to us as young children. Most poignantly, Ronnie
buried her mother at St. Finbar’s church.
Ronnie: … We’re sitting at St. Finbar’s church in what would have been
when we were little, the body of the church. When I was little I
used to think this was a huge church, but as we sit here right now it
feels tiny. So, space is different, and time is different, because this
really was the centre of our early life. We’ve been together as mates
since we started school here at St. Finbar’s in 1964, 54 years ago.
Conversations 27
The second conversation occurred in what we once knew as the Parlour room at
Star of the Sea college, Gardenvale. Star is where we received our secondary
education as young Catholic women. The college was established in Gardenvale in
1883 by the congregation of the ‘Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin
Mary’; an order of nuns who were founded in Ireland in the late eighteenth century
by Nano Nagle (Kane, 1974).
The work of Germaine Greer, in particular, was influential, in framing this
conversation as she attended Star—in the same era as Ronnie’s older sister. In
reviewing her work, we identified with Greer’s (2003) heartfelt memories of the
nuns who taught her. Some of these nuns also taught us at Star. Greer speaks about
girls’ schools as ‘fairly hysterical institutions’. In our conversations, we relate to
aspects of Catholic schooling that Greer refers to—the buildings, the nuns who
were our teachers and the ‘domestication’ of students. The contradictions evident in
how Greer understands her own experience of growing up Catholic and how it sits
with her feminist ideals are pertinent to the way we look back on our own
schooldays.
Conversations 29
‘Back a generation’
Anne: We’re at Star of the Sea college, in the Parlour. So much to talk
about, so many memories come to mind.
Ronnie: Yes, one of the first memories of this Parlour is that this is where
we used to have piano exams. Before the exams, I remember
having a lesson with Mother Cecilia before school started. You’d
be practicing your scales and if you made a mistake, she’d pull out
her keys and slap your wrists…and the nuns were very influential
figures in our lives.
Anne: Sr. Rose, Sr. Justin and Sr. Pascal.
Ronnie: Absolutely, Sr. Paschal was a brilliant woman - open-minded.
A significant leader with very high expectations of young
women…You couldn’t get away with being half-arsed with her.
Anne: No, and I sat in that chemistry class and she knew when you
weren’t attending or hadn’t done your homework.
Ronnie: She was really scary in that classroom setting but, out of that setting
there was an element of ‘cool’. She had great warmth, great
empathy… One of the things that struck Greer’s report in The
Guardian (2003) was her fondness in speaking about the nuns at
Star - different women like Sr. Raymond - she was someone that
taught my sisters, and Mother Eymard. ‘The Female Eunuch’
(Greer’s 1970 book) presented another world, one that we hadn’t
come from.
Anne: What do you mean by that?
Ronnie: The contrast, the multiple understandings of the same time. Courtin
(2015) who’s been very involved with the Royal Commission into
the Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse also spoke about
her own experience in a Catholic boarding school - around the fear
of God and hell into the students. We were brought up with total
obedience to God and an unquestioning belief in the Catholic
doctrine. I remember one Good Friday when my neighbour, who
wasn’t Catholic, and I went to the fish and chip shop and ate
dim-sims. I honestly thought, I genuinely believed, that my mother
would know and that this was certain hell for me.
Anne: I think though we need to make the distinction between women
who attended school before Vatican II.
30 2 Catholic Mothers and Daughters …
The family home was a focal space in our Catholic upbringings. Many of the first
phase interviews for this study were conducted in the family homes of our mothers.
Since the first phase interviews, our family homes have been sold with the passing
of our parents. We wanted one of the conversations to be in a family home. So, we
called on Anne’s only remaining maternal aunt—Patricia and visited her suburban
home in the leafy eastern suburbs of Melbourne. Patricia still lives in her own house
and has a garden that reminded us both of our mothers’ gardens—daphne, gardenia,
lemons, roses and camellias.
Healy (1994) writes, ‘the terms “suburb” and “suburbia” have functioned as
imagined spaces on to which a vast array of fears, desires, insecurities, obsessions
and yearnings have been projected and displaced’ (p. xiii). Suburbia has provided
and continues to provide a different cultural space across the generations. In line
with Healy in our conversations, we attempt to ‘trace the scar of suburban family
memory’ (p. xv) which for us was ensconced in a Catholic milieu. In particular, it
was the garden at Patricia’s that gave us a sense of being home. For Patricia, a
widow at the age of 33 with six children under 12, the garden metaphorically and as
a cultural space, has taken on different meanings throughout her life. Duraz (1994)
suggests that in the garden, ‘Moments are created however limited, for “feeding”
one’s own interests’ within versions of femininity that require the literal and
symbolic feeding of others’ (p. 205). Ideas associated with literal and metaphorical
notions of the ‘home’ and the ‘garden’ are a feature of the ensuing conversation.
Time…
Anne: It’s Spring and we’re having a cup of tea with Patricia.
Ronnie: Patricia, when I’m sitting here with you, there are certain
expressions that I remind me of Marie (Anne’s Mum) sitting
there. You are so much like her. My mother died and all of my
aunts have died now. I can see my sister is beginning to look like
my mother.
Anne: Well, when I look in the mirror, I see my Mum smiling at me.
Patricia: There you go.
Ronnie: Yeah, can you see that similarity Patricia, between you and your
sisters?
32 2 Catholic Mothers and Daughters …
Patricia: No, no, I had no time for [gardening]—as my mother said to me,
‘You’ve got six flowers inside the home to be worrying about, to
be looking after and caring for’.
Ronnie: That’s a lovely -
Anne: metaphor
Ronnie: Yeah, that was a beautiful thing for her to say.
Patricia: She’d say, ‘Don’t worry about the garden’. So now I have time to
care for the garden as I don’t have the children to care for…
Although gardening doesn’t seem to have passed [on to my
children]
Ronnie: Your kids aren’t gardeners?
Patricia: Some of them are, some of them are, but they’re still with their
children. Another thing that comes with older age is more time to
meditate and pray and so although all these catastrophes are going
on, and unrest amongst the children, and they’re searching, I think,
well, that’s their problem; that’s for them to sort out. Mine is to
pray. It’s a contemplative prayer.
Ronnie: A feeling of being close to God. Do you think praying was
important fro your generation? Maybe we haven’t captured that
Anne: I feel my older sister has that… but we were brought up with God,
and we’ve -
Patricia: You threw him out
Ronnie: Threw him out. It’s true.
Patricia: If you throw God out you’ve got to rely a hell of a lot on yourself.
Ronnie: Yeah, that’s a good point. I may not pray to a particular god, but I
love being out in the country, looking at -
Patricia: what he made.
Ronnie: There’s nothing like the natural world.
Patricia: Nothing more than what God has made.
Ronnie: As well as a strong sense of -
Patricia: this is beautiful. A beautiful level to have reached.
Ronnie: You just breathe it in…
The final conversation was at ‘Mona’s Seat’ which overlooks the sea at North
Brighton, in Melbourne’s bayside. There is a walking track along the beach to
Gardenvale where Star is situated. When Ron’s mother died in 2005, her family
decided to locate a seat at this place with a plaque that read, ‘Mona Egan, 1917-
2015: A Life well lived’. This was a place that Mona and her children would often
walk together throughout their lives.
34 2 Catholic Mothers and Daughters …
The wind blew, and we felt the sea breeze on our faces as we shared our
memories at Mona’s Seat. This conversation provided us with time to contemplate
the breeding ground of our feminist politics, the notion of friendship in women’s
lives and what gives us strength in adversity. We chatted about how a place in one’s
community can hold significance for dealing with loss and grief in one’s life. Ron
pinpointed the hypocrisy in the church’s teachings for women and how we, our
mother’s daughters, had moved away from the traditional religious beliefs that our
mothers raised us by.
A walk along the beach provided a space and time for our final reflection. In this
conversation, we strongly felt our mothers’ presence.
Ronnie: But at the end of the day it was God who was providing that solace
in a way that we probably don’t understand… for them it was the
bedrock
Coda
Our stories are shaped by how we regulated our exchanges, what we’ve said and
not said, how we understand our gender and religion both now and in the past.
Along with Irigaray (2008) we decided to take a dialogic approach to exploring the
religious pedagogical aspects of our lives. This was complemented by an autobi-
ographical tacit that opened up a space of disclosure, yet at the same time left many
tales implicit in what had been said or untold altogether. The inherent contradiction
is that through our private yet public dialogue we have not only shared our own
histories but also the histories of our mothers who were intensely private people.
‘There’s the life lived, and the life told’ (Thomson et al., 2002). Through our
conversations we both lived and told stories of our lives, and how they connected
with the histories and lives of our grand/mothers, our sisters, our aunts and the next
generation of younger women. Like Irigaray (2008), through our conversations, we
were wanting to acknowledge the way in which our mothers managed the material
conditions of their lives. The most significant coping mechanism they had was their
deep faith in Catholicism. The mystery, for us their daughters, is the solace our
mothers found in this deep faith which grounded their everyday.
References
Bulbeck, C. (1997). Living feminism: The impact of the women’s movement on three generations
of Australian women. Cambridge: Cambridge.
Caine, B. (2010). Biography and history. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan.
Courtin, J. (2015). Sexual assault and the Catholic church: Are victims finding justice? (Ph.D.
thesis). Retrieved from Monash University library.
Davies, B., Domer, S., Gannon, S., Laws, C., Rocco, S., Taguchi, H., et al. (2001). Becoming
schoolgirls: The ambivalent project of subjectification. Gender and Education, 13(2), 167–182.
Duraz, J. (1994). Suburban gardens: Cultural notes. In S. Ferber, C. Healy, & C. McAuliffe (Eds.),
Beasts of suburbia: Reinterpreting cultures in Australian suburbs (pp. 198–213). Carlton:
Melbourne University Press.
Evans, T., & Reynolds, R. (2012). Introduction to this special issue on biography and life-writing.
Australian Historical Studies, 11(1), 1–8.
Greer, G. (2003, November 27). The habit of a lifetime. The Guardian.
Greer, G. (2006). The female eunuch. London: Harper Collins (Original work published 1970).
Grosz, E. A. (1989). Sexual subversions: Three French feminists. St. Leonards, NSW: Allen &
Unwin.
References 37
Anne Keary
Abstract This is a story of a mother and daughter told through the eyes of their
grand/daughters. The stimulus for it was a conversation I had with my mother about
my grandmother Mary’s early twentieth-century photo album. The leaves of the
album shed light on a middle-class Melbournian lifestyle post World War I. My
grandmother and her mother Margaret’s religious and social identity could be
arranged through the structures of the dominant ideologies represented in the black
and white photography. Yet, this interpretation of Mary’s life left me, her grand-
daughter dissatisfied as it gave shape to Margaret and Mary’s lives but it seemed to
lack feeling. Binns (Art Network 1:20, 1979) notes: ‘…people live within certain
roles and within certain restrictions, but they also can be assertive, can be inventive,
can be creative in the way they conduct their lives’ (p. 42). I suppose what I, the
auto/biographer and grand/daughter, looked for in my grandmother’s photo album
and in my mother’s and aunt’s stories was a more imaginative whimsical feminist
tale of my maternal forebears. Hence, this chapter explores these women’s lives and
relationships through the impassioned gaze of a (great) granddaughter.
Introduction
I followed Irigaray’s advice and conversed with my mother about the photos in
the album, an object, which had passed between three generations of mothers and
daughters. The photo album was a visual resource that prompted a substantive
interchange between my mother and me. The photos were something tangible, as
well as symbolic, that my mother and I could discuss. The photos framed our
conversation by the way they provoked and enhanced memories. They were a
means for narrating a life story in a less arduous way and inspired anecdotal warmth
and humour. They provided a complementary process for interviewing my mother.
My mother relished my curiosity and attentiveness to her maternal history, and I
valued our interchange. Much remained left untold, but the photos offered an
occasion to share many treasured tales.
The exchange between my mother and me about the photo album was relaxed
with the chatter coming from both of us and from the photos too. The conversation
proved to be emotional on a number of levels. The day following our talk my
mother was diagnosed and rushed to hospital with bowel cancer. As I transcribed
our dialogue, my mother was being prepared for major surgery. My research took
on a gravity and depth, which it had not had previously. My mother passed away
ten years later in the autumn of 2005 leaving me with the memoirs, my grand-
mother’s photo album and the verbal exchange we had about the snapshots.
Writing this chapter connected me with my maternal grandmothers as young
women and also to the many embodied chronicles of their lives. The early
twentieth-century photographs are enriched through extracts of oral histories told by
mother and her younger sister, my aunt. Meanings given to photos are conditional.
I, the granddaughter, read assumptions and circumstances into the photographs in
the album. Stanley (1990) writes that ‘There is a commonsensical feeling that
photographs can capture and summarise a part of a person’s life and character’
(p. 270). This chapter captures part of the story of my maternal forebears and offers
a perspectived tale of the multidimensional aspects of a woman’s life in the late
nineteenth and early twentieth century in middle-class Australia.
Gendered Places 41
Gendered Places
Margaret was from a large family of German heritage. She grew up in a rural
area on the Murray River in northern Victoria which is renowned as a wine-making
region. My great grandmother married young and was to bear two children.
Margaret followed the conventional path of marriage and motherhood although
motherhood was to be tainted by grief with the death of her son at a young age. My
mother went on to tell more of her grandmother’s story. She related how Margaret’s
early married life was shaped by her husband’s work which involved being located
in different parts of Victoria. She commented, ‘They had a tremendous number of
moves with his Custom’s job’ (Interview 1995). When her husband retired, she
returned with her husband to the homestead of her childhood to raise the orphaned
children of her brother. Marie related this chapter in her grandmother’s married life.
When my mother Mary had grown up, my Grandma’s brother and wife died and there were
six children to be looked after. Grandpa had just retired so they went to liv at Wodonga to
rear the six children. They’re all dead now but they were a wonderful family and she did
what she could to bring them up. They never forgot her for it, and they came to visit and
kept in touch (Interview 1995).
This story points to the fluid and contingent boundaries of the genealogies of
women. Margaret not only mothered her own daughter but also the children of her
brother. Through the act of recounting her grandmother’s life history, my mother
tells of a maternal history that both geographically and maternally was located in a
range of sites. There were digressions to the story of mothering that involved
heartache as well as love and care not only for her biological children but also for
the extended family.
The photograph (Image 3.1) of Margaret with her dog Bob was taken on the
front porch of her home in Camberwell, Melbourne. This photograph is not an
objective framing of Margaret’s life. This visual evidence is shaped by the societal
mores and culture of the times. The photograph is a family snapshot taken I pre-
sume by her daughter Mary on her Brownie camera. The photos in the album
surrounding this snapshot are dated 1921, so it can be assumed that Margaret was
around the age of 50 at the time the photo was taken. The photo has a more formal
air to it which is in contrast to another photo on an earlier page in the album that
depicts Margaret in a more relaxed pose playing with Bob (see Image 3.2). Through
Gendered Places 43
Extended Family
Both my mother Marie and her sister Patricia remembered their grandparents
coming to live with them in their family home in East Kew, Melbourne. My mother
recollected
Grandma and Grandpa came to live with us when I was about 14 years old. Grandma was a
bad arthritic and couldn’t walk far and my Grandfather was an elderly man and couldn’t do
all the work for her, so they came to live with us. We knew them very well, they were
lovely people (\ Interview 1995).
We were brought up with both a mother and father and with grandparents living with us.
My mother’s parents came to stay with us when I was seven years of age… I was 12 when
one died, and I was 15 when the second one died. By that time, I was the only one at
home… [Having our grandparents living with us did impact on our lives] not in a bad way
as far as I was concerned, but I’m sure it was a heavy load for my mother and father. It was
during the war. Both men had their gardens, one out the front and one out the back. There
was a competition between the carrots and the beans of who had the best (Interview 2017).
Mary’s home duties escalated as she took on caring for her elderly parents. She
became a nurse for her mother who was a bad arthritic. Patricia acknowledged her
mother’s increased domestic duties yet remembers the extended family ‘not in a bad
way’. This war memory which is not the usual wartime anecdote, shows Mary
taking up a gendered identity on the home front as wife, mother and daughter. It
depicts her role as a nurse and foregrounds the love of a daughter for her mother
against the backdrop of World War II. During this time of world conflict life in the
suburbs of Melbourne went on with women taking on a range of significant but
often taken-for-granted responsibilities.
Consideration of the contemporary positioning of women can be enhanced
through an examination of the past. Nineteenth-century women were scantly
acknowledged in traditional Australian history texts which tended to emphasise the
notion of ‘mateship’ and national masculinist identities. It was not that women were
totally omitted but rather they were cast in ways that signified their role in the home
and family (Kingston, 1994). Gaining insights into my maternal great grand-
mother’s life as Allan (1986) writes ‘may check the process of feminists [such as
myself] finding themselves continually “reinventing the wheel”’ (p. 175). Allan
suggests that, ‘Such a grasp of women’s past can only enrich our struggles by
revealing what is unique about present circumstances. It can undercut some of the
inane smugness of current activists who assume that legal reforms and public
debate are the only way forward for women’ (p. 175). By recognising that my
Extended Family 45
maternal history is important and matters, and by providing a site for supposition,
interpretation, and a symptomatic analysis, histories that have been in the back-
ground come alive through conversations with my mother and aunt.
A Home Lover
sensibilities. They represent the cultural positioning of women within the private
sphere of the home yet, the doilies are mauve; a colour that symbolises the liber-
ation of women. Miller (2010) suggests that ‘culture comes above all from stuff’
(p. 54). In a feminist tradition, I have reclaimed and re-positioned the doilies as
activist cultural ‘stuff’ (Bartlett & Henderson, 2016) that connect me with my
maternal lineage.
My mother goes onto tell the story of my grandmother’s education and marriage
Gran went to Vaucluse Convent where I was educated. They lived at Camberwell and she
used to go there. She attended ‘Our Ladies of Victory’ primary school where there were
Josephite nuns. Then she went onto Vaucluse Convent from where she graduated. She went
to Loreto Convent at Albert Park. They had a teaching course there and I think she was a
boarder whilst she was there. She learnt how to teach there. Then she went back and taught
with the FCJ nuns who had educated her. She and Dad were married in 1925 on St.
Valentine’s day (Interview 1995).
image represents Mary during her early adult years as a granddaughter, a daughter,
a sweetheart and young modern Melbournian woman. The photo provides me with
an image of my grandmother at a point of time prior to her taking on motherhood.
This snapshot holds so much meaning as it signifies a relationship which was to
carry a strong maternal lineage.
Patricia, like Marie her older sister, remembered her mother Mary’s time in
northern Victoria as a young adult. She recollected the paintings her mother did
when living there with her parents
After school, Mum went on to do teaching. In the course of her teaching, her parents had to
go to northern Victoria to care for the children. The children’s parents had both died and
four or five children had been left orphans. So, because my grandfather was retired at that
time and their daughter, my mother, was at teacher’s college they were free to head up to
there. Well, as it turned out, Grandma might have got a little bit sick or a little bit unable to
care for the family all on her own. My mother gave up her teaching career and went up
there for a couple of years where she did several paintings which were handed on to us. She
sat at the river when painting at that time in her life (Interview 2017).
In the early twentieth century, debates surrounding the politics of national and
cultural identity in addition to the identities of ‘the artist’ and of ‘woman’ were
emerging. Women were seen as symbols of modernity. Australia began to explore
aspects of modernisation and this filtered down to art education (Rentschler, 2007).
Mary’s paintings were of a traditional kind. She did not challenge existing ideas and
conventions of the day which perhaps reflected a lifelong pattern. However, her
paintings represented a time for her creative-self and were influenced by the
landscape that encircled her every day. I have two of my grandmother’s oil
paintings. One is of two apples placed alongside a green jar (see Image 3.5); the
Image 3.5 Mary’s painting of two apples and a green jug that is hanging in her grand-daughter
Anne’s living room
48 3 My Maternal Genealogy: Remembering and Looking Back
that are such long-lasting recollections of the past, seem fragile and unreal. It is to
be remembered that these interpreted images belong as much to the imagination of
Mary’s granddaughter as they do to the imaginary past.
A Religious Shadow
Throughout my grandmother’s photo album, images are dispersed that represent her
deep-seated faith in Catholicism. There is a photo of the Catholic church at
Yarrawonga in northern Victoria encased by a white picket fence (see Image 3.8).
The fence represents the physical as well as psychical boundaries that Catholicism
established to make sure that Catholics remained separate from non-Catholics.
Irigaray (1993a) writes that ‘Many of us are under the impression that all we have to
do is not enter a church, refuse to practice the sacraments, and never read the sacred
texts in order to be free from the influence of religion on our lives’ (p. 23). She
discusses the separation of church from state which supports what she names an
‘illusion’. She goes onto write that ‘this does not solve the problem of how
50 3 My Maternal Genealogy: Remembering and Looking Back
significant the influence of religion upon culture is’ (p. 23). The photos leave me in
no doubt that Margaret and Mary’s minds and bodies were shaped by a Catholic
belief system.
Pillars and shrines of Catholicism shrouded the constitution of Margaret and
Mary as mother and daughter just as they were to shroud the lives of their offspring.
Another photo shows a priest posed stoically in a garden setting (see Image 3.9).
He stood as a pillar of the Catholic church.
Then there are other photos of nuns taken in the grounds of Yarrawonga convent
(see Image 3.10). Nuns were not regarded as ‘pillars of the church’ but rather
viewed as ‘brides of Christ’. Their identities were tied to a male signifier. The nuns
are covered in dark clothing from top to toe except for a white starched penguin
collar that circumferences their faces. As a cultural monolith, Catholicism enshrined
these women’s familial, personal and psychical being just like the white starched
collar girthed their faces.
Even though I was raised in a strong Catholic tradition, my mother tells the story
of how her grandmother’s mother was not a Catholic but rather of the Lutheran
faith.
Grandma was a Catholic, a good Catholic. But the story is that her parents, her father was a
Catholic, but her mother was a Lutheran. They arranged that if the first child was a boy, the
family would be brought up Catholics, and if the first child was a girl, they would follow
their mother’s religion. In any case, the first one was a boy and this Lutheran mother trained
these children, there were eight in all; four boys and four girls and disciplined them and
brought them up to be really good Catholic people (Interview 1995).
Friendship
Mary and Vera’s early twentieth-century life as young modern women reflect the
social and cultural history of this time. They were young women coming out into a
community bound by extended family and the Catholic church. Vera’s uncle the
priest provided Vera with a home and through his association with Aunty Mary,
holidays with my grandmother. Other photos in the album suggest that Vera and
Friendship 53
Mary engaged not only with the subordinate and obedient aspects of growing up
Catholic and female but moreover, also with the rebellious traits of their youth.
There are playful photographs that show the rebellious traits of youth with them
dressed in fashionable clothing and Vera smoking (see Image 3.12). They are with
young men appearing light-hearted and flirtatious (see Image 3.13).
The old sepia photographs narrate a story of young sweethearts and the begin-
nings of a lifelong friendship between two women. This narrative of friendship
symbolises a generative process in that it modelled and exemplified to my mother
and myself what connections between women can entail. Through Mary and Vera’s
relationship we learned how very special and supportive connections can be
between women. Despite generational differences in social, economic, cultural and
material circumstances parallels and similarities endure in the meanings given to
female friendships across the generations. For the book is not only grounded in the
vertical relationships between mother and daughter but an underlying theme is the
horizontal relationships between women and between sisters.
54 3 My Maternal Genealogy: Remembering and Looking Back
Conclusion
Part of the task for me as a granddaughter, through studying the photos and lis-
tening to my mother’s and aunt’s stories, was to develop an appreciation of who my
grandmothers were, and how they functioned within the social, cultural and reli-
gious mores of their times. It is not possible to tell from these selected photographic
images and stories of my maternal past whether these women lived peacefully
within the confines of the traditions and values of their day or if, at times, they felt
hemmed in by structures and belief systems that constrained their everyday lives.
Even If there were events and relationships which cast shadows over their lives,
they appeared happy and composed in the leaves of the album, and vibrant in the
stories that were told.
The stories and photographs in this chapter exemplify slippage between
chronological age and roles: mother/daughter/grandmother. One of the ways in
which the photos and stories connect generations of women is as daughters. That is,
the maternal lineage has no beginning and no end as women who mother are still
positioned on this continuum as daughters (Lucas, 1998). My desire to gain a better
understanding of my maternal heritage is tenacious. I love finding out more about
my grand/mothers’ lives and the endurance of their lineage. The photographs add
vivacity and realness to their existence yet can be understood in a myriad of ways.
Perhaps, because in the case of the family photograph, there are many cultural,
ideological and historical pieces that constitute a subjectivity which is familial and
relational (Hirsch, 1997). My quest to expose aspects of a maternal genealogy is not
complete with the etching of these brief accounts of their lives. This lineage is in a
continuous motion of flux with the recollection of memories and the telling of tales
throughout this book [and post its publication].
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London: Allen & Unwin.
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making of the activist object. Journal of Australian Studies, 40(2), 156–171. https://doi.org/10.
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Unwin,
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London: Harvard University Press.
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London: Routledge.
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Chapter 4
Girls and Catholic Education
Abstract The focus of this chapter is on how three generations of Catholic mothers
and daughters think back on their Catholic education. Insights are gleaned into the
expectations that mothers have of Catholic education for their daughters, how
mothers and daughters understand their experiences of schooling, and in what way
dis/connections between the values espoused at school and in the home shape
women’s lives and interpersonal relationships. Case histories of five family groups
are analysed according to their perceptions of shifting values, morals and ethics in
education between the 1920s and early twenty-first century. What is shared across
these family groupings is that all three generations were educated at Catholic
schools. Social, religious and historical demarcation lines are re/drawn within, and
between, the various educational journeys these women experienced. It is argued
that relationships with religion are not fixed, rather these women continue to make
choices in relation to the spiritual ideals, principles and ethics derived from their
Catholic education.
Introduction
Most of the first generation of women in this study attended Catholic schools in the
1920s–1940s. These schools were situated in a range of urban, regional and rural
locations throughout Australia. Two women of this generation were from Anglican
backgrounds with the former being educated in Perth, Western Australia and the
latter in rural NSW. The second generation of women attended middle-class
Catholic girls’ secondary colleges in the leafy south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne
during the 1960s and 70s. This generation’s education and relationship with their
mothers was impacted upon by socio-historical events and libertarian cultural
movements such as feminism and protests against the Vietnam War. Within the
Catholic church, a liberalising event that took place was Vatican II. The Second
Vatican Council was initiated by Pope John XXIII and its objective was to align the
Church’s institutions and teachings to a more contemporary context and expand the
appeal and reach of Catholicism. Liberalising changes in the church constitution,
decrees and pronouncements that resulted as a consequence of Vatican II were
© Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd. 2020 57
A. Keary, Education, Work and Catholic Life,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-13-8989-4_4
58 4 Girls and Catholic Education
imparted by the Vatican Council between 1962 and 1965 with the focus being on
spiritual renewal (Lesko, 1988). The third generation of young women was, and for
some continue to be, educated in a diversity of contexts. While some young women
followed in their mothers’ footsteps, others had alternative educational experiences
that were beyond the religious ethos that shaped their mothers’ formative years.
In this chapter, the viewpoints of three generations of five groups of mother and
daughters are represented and analysed according to their perceptions of shifting
values, morals and ethics in education between the 1920s and early twenty-first
century. What distinguishes these family groupings from other research participants
is that all three generations attended Catholic schools. The interview data set for this
chapter reflects the social, religious and historical demarcation lines that are re/
drawn within the various educational journeys these women experienced.
How religious gendered identity is constructed by, and through, Catholic edu-
cation and maternal relationships is central to the analysis in this chapter. First, the
ways in which ‘pedagogies of everyday life’ (Luke, 1996) inform a Catholic reli-
gious upbringing will be examined through the lenses of intergenerational experi-
ences and perceptions of schooling by Patricia, a research participant from
generation 1. In 1995, Patricia, then 62, was interviewed with her two daughters. In
2016, Patricia and her daughter Pauline participated in a second interview, together
with Pauline’s three daughters, aged between 9 and 22. Following this temporal
overview, the chapter explores the ways in which these Catholic mothers pursue
schooling for their daughters that supports and extends the values espoused in their
families. Finally, the chapter analyses the spiritual aspects of girls’ education, in an
examination of the ways in which women come to understand the development of
religious identities as they change over time.
This chapter explores changes in the personal and spiritual aspects of the lives of
five groups of grand/mothers and daughters. One of the main aims of this chapter is
to problematise and question the allegedly taken for granted and unmistakable
dominance of the masculinist belief systems of Catholicism and offer a space for
other interpretive options.
Across time, the interview data shows that the women represented in this chapter
responded differently to the religious teaching and learning encounters experienced
within their homes and schools. Bulbeck (1997) writes about how differences in
women’s responses to opportunities and challenges in their lives may be a conse-
quence of:
… their own generational position whether grandmother, mother or daughter; their
resources and upbringing which often had much to do with ethnicity and class; the tra-
jectory of their lives…. Ultimately, women also brought their own individual personalities
to these possibilities … (p. 3).
Similarly, we demonstrate that each woman in this chapter has her own unique
story to tell, which is framed by the Catholic teachings of the period, and the
challenges to those beliefs from a range of social and cultural movements.
We begin with Patricia’s historical interpretation of the religious pedagogy and
curriculum that shapes Catholic education from the 1920s to current times. As a
grand/mother she offered a rich account of changes in the way Catholicism has been
taught across her lifetime. In 2016, in conversation with her daughter and three
granddaughters, she provided a synopsis of how the teaching of religious doctrine
in Catholic girls schools changed continually for three generations of young women
within her own maternal family. She began by describing the strict routines of her
Catholic education, which presented impressionable young women with a set of
values to guide them through life:
Well, I think the way we were brought up was fairly strict, and it was more a case of this is
the way you did things. There was a set of rules … and they were the rules to follow… But
apart from that, the teaching at the school was run on a very strict basis of routines such as
changing of shoes and lots of odds and ends… It was a case of wearing the right stockings
to school and the right shirts and the right tie and all these very strict ways. But … it was a
great sense of good; values stuck with most of us as we grew older.
Patricia in her interview remembered the everyday rituals which marked her
Catholic school days. The Catholic Ladies College was a site where she was
constructed, and constructed herself, within a specific version of femininity that was
corporeal. The rules associated with the wearing of the school uniform marked her
mind and body. Patricia viewed the uniform as symbolic of a value system. Like
Anne, the co-author’s mother Marie (Patricia’s older sister), ‘through the rituals of
everyday school life she was learning to occupy the position of “lady” and how to
engrave her body to conform to that space…’ (Keary, 2015, p. 193).
…we had a medal around our bosom, around our necks and that was a ‘Child of Mary’
medal. If you were a ‘Child of Mary’ you were one of the senior pupils of the school, one of
the responsible pupils (Interview 1995).
60 4 Girls and Catholic Education
Image 4.1 A series of photographs of three generations of women from Anne (co-author’s
family) in their school uniforms demonstrating the similarities across time in Catholic school girls’
dress codes. The photographs from left to right are Marie (Generation 1) in the 1930s, Bernadette
(Generation 2) in the 1950s and Sarah (Generation 3) in the 2000s
Catholic Girls’ Education Across Three Generations 61
potential sinfulness”… (p. 32). Marie’s so-called ‘immaturity’, her childishness, her
unformed womanhood, she perceived as slowing her progress towards being a
senior pupil and a ‘Child of Mary’. In her eyes, her immaturity lay at the margins of
good Catholic womanhood.
As a result of Vatican II, the ‘Children of Mary’ was seen to be outdated and
took on a renewed focus as the ‘Legion of Mary congregation’. This militaristic
term continued to reference the disciplined, docile mind and body of a future
‘handmaiden of the church’. The disciplined body pictured in the photos above
reflects the development of the ‘good Catholic woman’.
The sweet demeanour of the schoolgirls in their uniforms provides an impression
of ‘goodness’. The social order of school life across the eras seemed to offer a haven
for growth of ‘good’ women, albeit within a contested range of understandings
concerning what this might mean. As Trimingham-Jack (2003) claims ‘Not all
women who grew up in this period and attended Catholic schools went on to
conform to the traditional model of a “good woman”: in adulthood, many refused to
be obedient to men, to the church and to practices associated with being “ladies:”
(p. xii).
Generational Shifts
Patricia went onto say that for the second generation of young women, her
daughters, there were changes in the style of religious teaching in Catholic schools.
In contrast to focusing on an abstract, ethereal God, there was movement towards a
value system focused more on social awareness and caring for others. Patricia
explained:
[The schooling for my generation] was more centred on God being far more distant. For the
next generation…it was a case of finding God right here within yourselves; there was even a
change in the way you prayed. We went to church and it was filled with awe and reverence,
and there was a distance between the altar and the people. [Church rituals and ceremonies]
were brought closer to help people participate. But with that, came an emphasis on social
work rather than on the awe and presence, and the wonder of God. So, it was more of a case
of helping one another and bringing God [to you] in that way (Interview 2016).
Patricia viewed the religious principles taught to her daughters, during the 1960s
and 70s, as concentrated on finding God within yourself. This era signified a period
of liberation and freedom of thought in the broader society as well as in the Catholic
church as signified by Vatican II. Patricia argued that for this generation, religious
education engaged with the notion of ‘social work’ and was concerned with edu-
cating girls to help others. It involved learning about one’s inner resources by
searching for understandings of ‘the self’. The idea was for young women to find
God within themselves. According to Patricia, this idea of focusing in on the self is
still central to the Catholic religious instruction imparted to the third generation. For
this generation, religious education has taken on a more socially aware perspective.
Patricia elaborated:
62 4 Girls and Catholic Education
Now I think for the grandchildren, it’s been a case of following along with that social work
style of teaching, to be very aware of the other… helping one another… Prayer is part of
it… for the younger grandchildren’s [schooling] there is a need to make time for medita-
tion. Life has got so busy… schools are setting aside time for meditation and possibly a
little bit of meditation in prayer (Interview 2016).
Patricia believed that issues of social justice are a feature of religious education
in contemporary times. As with her own generation, there is a space for prayer in
her granddaughters’ classroom routine. Prayer is more likely to be situated within
the self rather than externally located in an abstract symbol as it was when Patricia
was growing up. Patricia proposed that ‘meditation through prayer’ was a means for
Catholic schools to respond to the business and demands of contemporary times.
Patricia’s conversations provide a historicised view of intergenerational changes
in religious education. This historical overview contextualises the ensuing discus-
sion of women’s experiences and expectations of growing up Catholic. To be
partially revealed is how Catholicism was, and is, embraced and refuted, appro-
priated and usurped by a particular group of Australian women.
In this section, the choices women make for their daughters’ schooling are con-
sidered. The story of Catholic girls and education is grounded by the relational
aspects of schooling. These connect with the moral and ethical teachings that
mothers desire for their daughters. Concern for others is enmeshed with the ped-
agogical ethical and moral dimensions constituting schooling and family experi-
ences for Catholic girls. Two mother–daughter groups discuss the dynamics and
undercurrents of intergenerational schooling choices; Mona (Generation 1) and Sue
(Generation 2) and Francis (Generation 1) and her twin daughters Helen and Anne
(Generation 2) (See Tables of Participants in Prologue).
In 1995, Sue spoke with her mother Mona, sister and the interviewer Anne about
her views on what Catholic schooling might offer her two daughters. She delib-
erated on the value system and moral code of a Catholic education in comparison to
that of government and other private educational institutions. Sue explained:
… my youngest child … hates anything to do with religion and has been telling me for
several years now that there is no God and it’s all a load of nonsense and why do I want her
to go (to a Catholic school). … I want her to grow up in an environment where there is a
clear moral code …where she is supported by my values… they’re not necessarily church
values. I think for me that’s very important for the girls to have (Interview 1995).
Mona, as a grandmother, in conversation with Sue, suggested that values are not
just learned at school but need to be modelled for children. Sue agreed but clarified
that her concern was not whether her daughters established formal connections with
the Catholic church rather, how schooling could extend her own value system.
Contesting Enduring Values 63
Mona responded ‘Children are looking for something to hang on to when things get
tough … If you haven’t got anything, you’re floundering…’
In another mother–daughter exchange Helen (Generation 2) asked her mother
Francis (Generation 1) “What did you hope your daughter would gain from a
Catholic education? Francis commented:
It was very hard for me to sort out what I hoped to teach my children myself… and what I
hoped a Catholic education would give them. It’s the same for me, I can’t sort out really
what I learnt from my parents and what I learnt from school. But I can say … that one of the
things expected from a Catholic education is that the school will reinforce your values
ideals and hopes for your children (Interview 1995).
Francis explained how her parents taught her the values of honesty and gen-
erosity which were reinforced through her schooling. In relation to her own
daughters’ schooling, Francis wanted continuity of values education across home
and school. Francis, like Sue, felt that a Catholic school would provide this con-
sistency. She remarked, ‘At a Catholic or Presbyterian or any other type of church
school, you are more likely to get staff with the same values. You hope that the
ethos of the school will encourage those values’.
In the ensuing 20 years between interviews, Francis and her daughters’ central
ideas about the teaching of values and ethics in schools had not changed. However,
in the 2016 interviews, there was a blurring between what a Christian, Catholic and
even secular education could provide. When re-interviewed in 2016, Francis’ ideas
had not changed about the consistency of values education across home and school,
but she began to question whether there were any differences between the values
taught at Catholic and non-Catholic schools:
I’m a firm believer that parents and teachers are the role models … I wanted my children to
go to a school that had the same values I held…They were taught to think about others in
the world and the community and that people have different ideas.
At any school, Catholic or non-Catholic, I would think they are pretty much teaching the
same thing, aren’t they? Aren’t they teaching people to live a good life in society, to be
honest? I think all schools teach the same sort of thing… (Interview 2016).
Helen, her daughter in conversation with her sister Anne commented on how she
views herself as a Christian who wants to maintain the religious practices which
were part of her upbringing. ‘I look at myself as a Christian … I’m the one who gets
us all together on Christmas Eve and says, “We need to go to church tonight”’.
Helen on the one hand viewed herself as a Christian rather than a Catholic but made
64 4 Girls and Catholic Education
the choice to attend Catholic services with her family on Christmas Eve. This is
because Catholic mass was a family Christmas ritual.
The idea of ‘belonging’ is a personal belief in God which does not necessarily
equate with church attendance or participation (Davie, 1994). Furthermore, Day
(2012) contends that the ‘concept of belonging relocates Christian identity as a
public, social act’ (p. 27) such as attendance at a Christmas Eve church service. She
discusses how Christians may not believe in God but still maintain their religious
roots and culture. It is not totally clear where Helen positions herself, as a Christian
who attends a Catholic mass with her family as a Christmas tradition. This points to
the limits of the interview process as a form of truth-telling.
Helen further revealed the distinction she makes between Catholicism and
Christianity when talking about deciding where to send her daughter to secondary
school. Helen wanted a school that was Christian, and she found this in her old alma
mater:
When the decision was made to send my daughter to secondary school …I went and had a
look [at my old school] and it just felt right. Since the ‘70s when I was there life had not
changed at this school. I still believe this school doesn’t really push Catholicism as such.
It’s part of the Christian community rather than a Catholic one (Interview 2016).
This section shares women’s memories to ‘create a conversation about the diversity
of Catholic girlhood experience’ (DelRosso, 2005, p. 14) rather than attempting to
portray a myth of sameness. Across the three generations of women, there was a
range of opinions and responses to recollections of Catholic schooling. The stories
ranged from tales about the heart of the story to narratives explaining background
histories, with attitudes towards religion in an everchanging state of flux (DelRosso).
The women in this study had individual stories as well as collective tales to tell
across the two phases of interviews which were 20 years apart. They looked back on
Catholic schooling in different ways at various periods of time. The point is that
women’s perspectives on Catholic schooling are diverse, occasionally contradictory
and at times, conflicted; locations from which women recall Catholicism as a ‘ve-
hicle of repression, of subversion or of liberation’ (DelRosso, p. 12).
As researchers in this chapter, we contextualise the women’s histories without
attributing a consistent gendered religious identity. Kristeva (1987) contends that
Catholic discourse shrouds the feminine within notions of pious reproduction and a
patriarchal perspective of the maternal. She draws attention to the unattainable
Prayer and Meditation: A Short Time Out of the Day 65
representation of the Virgin Mary in Catholic theology. This virginal image limits
the representation of women within Catholicism. This implausible representation of
the maternal conceals the specificities of women’s identity and how she is situated
within the social. In this section, the way in which this image of the Virgin Mary
represses and subverts women is explored. Nevertheless, some women create a
spiritual and quiet feminine space through their adoration of Mary.
Anne, the co-author’s, mother Marie passed away in 1995. With her three sisters,
she carefully wrapped a range of precious items that had been stored on the top
shelf of their mother’s wardrobe. These items included a first holy communion veil
which had been passed down from sister to sister for that auspicious religious
occasion.
The holy communion attire (see Image 4.2) was consistent across the genera-
tions with the white bridal type dress. Marie (Generation 1) and Bernadette
(Generation 2) wore knee length dresses with a lacy veil and shiny patent shoes of
black or white. Sarah (Generation 3) wears a slightly different dress perhaps
because her first holy communion took place in Darwin in the Northern Territory of
Australia where the climate is hot and humid. Shoes were replaced with sandals, a
knee length dress with a longer one and the lacy veil is absent. Regardless, this
outfit represented a young girl’s projected future as a ‘bride of Christ’.
Vecchiona (1992) in a poem describes how many things happened simultane-
ously at her first holy communion. As with the photos of the three generations of
women, Vecchiona mentions the ‘quiet little dolls’ symbolised by the sweetness of
the girls in their first holy communion photos. Vecchione remarked on the hidden
priest in the confessional whose powerful positioning in the church remains
unquestioned.
Image 4.2 A series of photographs depicting similarities in the First Holy Communion attire
across three generations. The photographs from left to right are Marie (Generation 1) in the 1930s,
Bernadette (Generation 2) in the 1950s and Sarah (Generation 3) in the 2000s. The positioning of
the Priest holding onto Sarah has been photo shopped out for privacy reasons
The children spent much time labouring over their script, in pencil as infants and later using
a pen dipped in ink. Infant students learned running writing almost from the start… the
writing card models, aside from being examples of how to form each letter, were a means of
introducing the children to literature, the Bible and history as well as general knowledge
(Trimingham-Jack, 2003, p. 29).
Writing practice was a very important part of the curriculum in Catholic reli-
gious education in the first half of the twentieth century. An item that Anne, the
co-author came across during the writing of this chapter was an exercise book of her
mother’s that was written in a beautifully hand-written cursive script. The book was
entitled ‘Some Titles of Our Lady’ (see Image 4.3 for excerpt from book). The
crafted writing was accompanied by holy pictures that illustrated the version of
‘Our Lady’ that was being told. Patricia, Marie’s younger sister, told the story of the
mother–daughter effort which went into creating the book:
Some Titles of Our Lady 67
Image 4.3 Photograph of Marie’s religious education book showing an excerpt of her writing
Well, the book is beautifully made. I guess with that printing maybe it was about year eight
and she wrote all about those particular pictures which depict aspects of Mary’s love.
I remember Marie finding those pictures… Gran helped her. The two of them worked on
the project [together] to find suitable pictures (Interview 2016).
Trish, her mother, talked in an almost longing way about the Examen prayer and
remarked that she had never ‘heard of it in all my years of Catholic schooling or
from my parents’. She described it as ‘a little examination of your conscience [and]
an awareness that God is there’.
68 4 Girls and Catholic Education
Trish, in her late 50s, reincorporated and saw value in spiritual practice and ritual
although not in the same way that was presented to her as a child by her mother.
Trish described to Rosie, her mother’s way of praying when she was a young child.
Yes, it is interesting that I picked up [the Examen prayer] from you [Rosie]. My mother
would … frequently call us into her bedroom if it was a day that anyone was doing an
exam, or anyone was going on a journey… We’d kneel down at the foot of her bed. She
had a picture of the Madonna … and we would say a prayer to Our Lady …Praying to Our
Lady was one of her favourite things because she she’d always say: ‘Well Mary is the
Mother of God, so, she has a good way of helping things happen’. Yes, but her prayers
haven’t really rubbed off on me (Interview 2016).
Trish noted in this dialogue with her daughter how she has accepted the Examen
prayer in Rosie’s school diary (Image 4.4). In contrast, she rejected her mother’s
prayer rituals which were part of a repertoire of religious activities during her
childhood. Trish, in her adult years, has reshaped her own spiritual practices, so
they are not mandated but rather taken up on your own terms. Yet, the picture of the
Byzantine Madonna referred to by Trish still hangs in her home to this day (see
Image 4.5).
The Examen prayer is about mindfulness and prayerful reflection. It is associated
with Patricia’s ideas of how Catholic schooling of today provides a time for
meditation. In considering the Examen prayer Trish reminisced about her mother
Meg’s attendance at retreats where Trish went to school. In the 1960s and 70s, these
retreats provided her mother with a time for quiet contemplation that contrasted
with her daily home duties of looking after children. Trish commented on how her
ideas about this period of prayer and reflection in her mother’s life changed as she
grew older and experienced motherhood herself: ‘I remember thinking “oh my God,
as if you’d choose to go off for a day of prayer and reflection”. Although now I
would probably love to do that. In fact, I’ve done a number of ten-day retreats’.
Rosie and Trish discussed how prayer time can be meaningless. Rosie was
ambivalent about the Examen prayer practice whilst Trish found value in medita-
tion for school children:
[As a child] we probably spent a lot of time saying prayers but thinking about something
totally different…Prayers didn’t really have any meaning. Even going to Mass could have
been like that at times… So, I think it’s good now. A lot of the Catholic primary schools I
work in now have meditation every day, just for five minutes, either first thing in the
morning, or after recess, or after lunch and it’s just five minutes silence and I think that’s
great for the kids (Interview 2016).
These five minutes of silence which Trish described as taking place for children
in Catholic primary schools connect with Patricia’s (Generation 1) suggestion that
schools are setting aside time for ‘meditation in prayer’.
Trish and Rosie went onto suggest that there is fluidity between Catholic reli-
gious practice and spiritual exercises.
Rosie: I think [the examen prayer] is a good exercise, but I don’t usually go so far as to
practice it myself … I feel like it connected me with my spiritual sense more than anything
else. So, I’d classify it as a spiritual practice.
70 4 Girls and Catholic Education
Trish: Yet, it’s a bit like when people say ‘I’m spiritual’ but not religious… I mean you
wouldn’t have to be of any religion to examine your day.
Rosie: It’s not like religious, but it’s still spiritual… (Interview 2016).
Religious education for these women includes both pedagogical practices in the
home and at school. The Hail Mary prayer was coupled with the Examen prayer in
Rosie’s diary. The practice of praying to Mary, the mother of Jesus, was part of
Trish’s mother’s prayer ritual. She created a space where she prayed to Mary.
Feminist psychoanalyst Kristeva (1986) suggests that Christian imagery of mater-
nity, as represented in the cult of the Virgin Mary, is an effort to overcome the
contradictions inherent in the symbolic patriarchal stance on maternity. Maternity is
both ‘respected’ and obliterated, both sexless and passionate. Irigaray (1979) argues
children, men and culture rely on and take for granted the representation of the
maternal. She points out that this maternal debt is renounced and renamed in man’s
own self-image as religion, philosophy and absolute knowledge. These French
feminist theorists argue that Catholicism does not acknowledge the debt it owes to
the maternal. Still for some women in this study, Mary as Madonna and mother
continues to give solace. Trish remembered her mother claiming that ‘Mary has a
good way of helping things happen’.
Rosie, as a representative of the third generation, was uncertain about the rel-
evance of prayer in her life. On the one hand, she commented, ‘I don’t really take
much notice of the Examen prayer’; yet, she made time for reflection: ‘everyone can
think of something that’s happened in their day, or what they’re grateful for’. Trish
contemplated the value of prayer in her own life. She found relevance in the
Examen prayer, however, as a child she did not follow her mother’s practice of
daily prayer. Trish and Rosie concluded that finding meaning in spiritual practices
is important.
Rosie summed up her thoughts concerning her relationship with Catholicism:
Yeah, I know I’m a Catholic, but I don’t really - I’m not like a big Catholic - what do you
call that? Like, I don’t go to mass a lot, so I’m not really that involved in the faith. But I’m
still like - it’s still like kind of there, but just not - I don’t practice it that much (Interview
2016).
Rosie’s words suggest an uncertainty about the place of Catholicism in her own
identity. She does not seem to want to identify as a Catholic, yet Catholicism
shaped her schooling history and is present through her maternal lineage. Trish and
Rosie distinguished between spirituality and religious practices.
Conclusion
This chapter specifically examined how values, morals and ethics were taught in,
and through, Catholic education and explored the centrality of mothers in shaping
the spiritual identities of girls and women. Three key themes were interwoven to
explore religious gendered identity and how women in hindsight find meaning in
Conclusion 71
their perceptions and experiences of Catholic schooling. Foresight comes into play
as some of the research participants discussed their desires for their own daughters’
schooling and how these aspirations connect and disconnect with their own values
and principles. The key themes explored were research participants perceptions of
the approaches to religious education across three generations of women, debating
and questioning enduring values, morals and ethics in relation to concern for others
and how spirituality is learned, contested and practiced in the home and at school.
This idea of consistent values across home and school also took on a sense of
‘belonging’ yet ‘not belonging’ to the Catholic church. Generations two and three
did not feel obligated to live by the teachings of the church. All three generations of
women represented in this chapter understood and enacted their spirituality in their
everyday lives in different ways yet, there were commonalities across their stories.
The older generation as young women was conditioned into traditional beliefs,
rituals and practices of Catholicism. Catholic rituals shaped their minds and bodies
through sacraments such as holy communion and prayer rituals that involved asking
for guidance from the Virgin Mary. In contrast, the next generation in the 1960s, a
period of not only liberation in the church but also in society as a whole, experi-
enced a more secular liberalised Catholic education that was more focused on the
self. Nevertheless, the Catholic church retained its hierarchical masculinist structure
in spite of these liberalising times. The youngest generation are maturing during an
era in Catholic schooling where the focus, Patricia suggested, is on social justice,
prayer and meditation. These young women are being asked to consider who in
society has opportunities and privileges available to them whilst reflecting on their
own lives. Patricia asserted the need for this generation to engage with the medi-
tational realm of prayer to recentre themselves in the business of their daily lives.
Challenges pertain to growing up and being educated Catholic. Traditional
images of gendered religious identity continue to be presented to young women.
Gendered religious identity is complex and, as discussed in this chapter, is repre-
sented in contained and limited ways within Catholicism. Nonetheless, intergen-
erational relationships with religion are not fixed and determined. Girls and women
have, and continue to be, agential in their choices concerning spiritual ideals,
principles and ethics derived from their Catholic education.
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Part II
Fluid Transitions: Continuity and Change
in Education, Training and Work
Chapter 5
Education and Training, Career
Aspirations: ‘That’s What I Remember’
Abstract This chapter examines trends in education and training through both
individual and collective narratives of how three generations of women mediate and
manage the transition to, and between, study and work. Testimonies are located
within wider trends, historical contexts with sociological implications being drawn.
The women’s testimonies, in the main, echo wider national trends while providing
more nuanced accounts of continuity and change across, and between, generations.
Early school leaving was more common for the older generations. Changes in the
labour market during the twentieth century and how they impacted on school
transitions are discussed. During the later twentieth century, the younger generation
of women is generally more highly educated with many participating in post-school
study and training. In addition, this third generation is beginning to embark on less
traditionally gendered careers. For some, pathways changed across generations as
new areas of study, training and work were pursued. Yet, enduring themes also
emerged in relation to post school options across some mother–daughter groupings.
Introduction
As this part of the book explores the non-linear pathways of women through
education and work, the continuities and discontinuities evident in the testimonies
of our interviewees challenge a widely held notion of ‘transition’ as it is applied to
the movements of people from school to post-school life. Education—particularly
schooling—is commonly associated with a key stage of transition in life. It is seen
to prepare young people for work, further study and training and for life in general.
We often hear about education as a pathway to these stages, a pathway to adult-
hood. But the efficacy or appropriateness of the transition metaphor has been
questioned (Evans & Furlong, 1997; Furlong, 2009). Where we sometimes see the
pathway to post-school life as linear and ‘largely taken for granted as an endpoint of
youth pathways’ (Woodman & Wyn, 2015, p. 80), Valentine (2003) rightly notes
that
while the transition from childhood to adulthood is often assumed to be linear as young
people move from school to work, leave the parental home and so on, many people do not
move neatly from a state of dependence to independence. They might start work and then
lose their job, leave home, move into rented accommodation for a while and then move
back home… In this way, transitions from childhood to adulthood can be complex and fluid
(p. 38).
We start with the stories told by the wider data around women’s transitions and
focus in on some of the women’s stories. During the past 70 years, the transitions of
young women in Australia from school to work and family can be divided into three
periods: post-World War II to the mid-1970s; the mid-1970s to the 1990s; and the
late 1990s to the new millennium.
The post-World War II period saw the introduction of mass secondary education.
In the mid-1950s, compulsory education in Australia ended at age 14, with the
majority of young people leaving school at the ages of 14–15 years, having com-
pleted their Intermediate Certificate. Only a small minority, and predominantly
young men, stayed to complete the equivalent of Year 12 (Vickers, 2013).
Australian studies of that time, for example, the works of Connell, Francis, and
Skilbeck (1957) and Cunningham (1951), emphasised both the socialisation role of
schools and school graduation as a significant marker of the transition from ado-
lescence to adulthood (Cuervo & Wyn, 2011; Sharp & Broomhill, 2005; Wilson &
Wyn, 1987; Wyn, 2009). A growth in school retention rates from the mid-1960s to
the 1970s coincided with a long economic boom of full employment, increasing
standards of living and individual wealth, as well as rising social aspirations
(Vickers, 2013).
Amongst interviewees for this book, leaving school was more common in the
eldest generation. Interestingly, Marie and Patricia’s mother (pre-Generation 1)
matriculated but as her granddaughter, Anne pointed out, this was unusual at the
time. From generation one, Aileen, Mona and Agatha left school early—
78 5 Education and Training, Career Aspirations …
predominantly in search of work. Their reasons varied. From the first generation of
interviewees, Agatha left school early because she felt that she ‘was never a good
student. I found study hard. It was a struggle’. Aileen started work when she was 14
as a machinist before moving into sales and doing ‘a bit of buying for our own
business’. Like Aileen, Mona (Generation 1) left school at 14 years of age, and her
story provides a window on the particular transition of a young Catholic woman at
the time.
It was the depression years and many men like Mona’s father were unemployed
or underemployed. Mona was offered a scholarship to a well-to-do Catholic sec-
ondary convent at about the age of 12. However, she was reluctant to accept the
scholarship. Mona and her mother negotiated the conditions of the scholarship with
the nuns. Mona attended the school for 18 months but one day a comment by one
of the nuns upset her, so she decided with a sense of dignity to leave school and
enter the workforce. Mona told the story:
There happened to be a nun there who I believe came from a very well to do family. She
knew that my books were provided… she happened to pass an opinion one day and said
some people really don’t appreciate anything, they get their books, and everything given to
them. Of course, I took it straight away that this meant me, so that night I left all the books
in the desk and went home and said to my mother’ I wasn’t going back to school and I was
going out to get a job’. And that’s what I did (Interview 1995).
By the age of 16, all Mona really wanted to do was join the convent. She had a
strong attachment to the Sisters of St. Joseph from her primary school years. Mona
told her daughters, ‘It was a life I would have liked… I’m sure I had a vocation for
that… a feeling for being close to God’ (Interview 1995). Convent schools in the
late nineteenth–early twentieth century supported the recruitment of religious
vocations from within their ranks. Having Catholic religious in the family was
generally seen as a mark of social distinction. For some young women, becoming a
religious novice provided better living conditions. While for others, like Mona, it
was viewed in terms of a religious vocation that enabled one to become closer to
God (Raftery, 2012). In Australia, the numbers of young people seeking out a
religious life were strong until the 1960s (Trimingham-Jack, 2003). Mona’s father
was required to sign a document for her to enter a religious order and this did not
happen. Mona continued to work for her uncle until she was married, and con-
sidered herself ‘very, very lucky to have a job’ (Interview 1995).
Most of the women ended up leaving work to become family carers. As Agatha
said, she ‘took on marriage as a career’. We shall return to this below. Patricia who
attended secondary school in the 1940s did not feel as though they had the support
of their parents to pursue further study. During this period, careers counselling and
guidance was not available in schools. Work was not socially endorsed for women
and popular media representations considered women’s role to be in the home child
rearing (Holmes, 1995).
School Completion and ‘Encouragement’: ‘It Was a Life I Would Have Liked’ 79
women moved into part-time or casual jobs or looked to tertiary education as a way
of improving employment prospects (Wooden, 1996).
The late 1990s to the current period has seen continued growth in rates of school
completion, tertiary enrolment and attainment. Though the current generation,
globally, is characterised by a widespread view that education will provide the
necessary knowledge and skills for young people to navigate the emergent
post-industrial economy featuring uncertain and fluid employment conditions
(Crofts et al., 2016; Cuervo & Wyn, 2011; Raffe, 2014; Skattebol, Hill, Griffiths, &
Wong, 2015; Woodman & Wyn, 2015), this is, at times, questioned (Walsh, 2016).
The women interviewed for this book affirm the view that completing secondary
and higher levels of study was a necessary part of their life; a corollary of this was a
concern by older generations about what kinds of work awaited their daughters after
study. For some interviewees across all generations, unforeseen forces prevented
them from completing school. Audrey’s daughter Andrea (Generation 2), for
example, did not undertake Year 12 due to cancer treatment, but a Principal at Star
of the Sea College enabled Andrea to gain her admission into an Arts Degree at
Melbourne University, pursuing a career in paediatric palliative care.
As mentioned above, where leaving school early was more prominent in the
oldest generations, the third and most recent generation of interviewees saw the
completion of Year 12 as a normal part of life. The few who did not complete
school, such as Neera (Generation 3), had some form of disability. For this most
recent generation, the data persistently suggests that key groups that continue to
experience difficulty in transition from school to work leave school early are those
who experience disability. Recent evidence suggests that young women who leave
school early are more likely to withdraw from working life. In 2011, for example,
36.7% of young adult women who left school at Year 10 or below were not in the
labour force. Those who completed Year 12, on the other hand, were far less likely
to leave the labour force (10.2%). For young men, the figure was markedly lower at
12.2% compared to 5.4% of males who completed Year 12 (Robinson, Long, &
Lamb, 2011).
During the later twentieth century, increasing numbers of women went on to higher
education. Where less than 50,000 participated in higher education in the
mid-1950s, approximately 200,000 did so by the mid-1970s. In the 1950s, only one
in every five university students were female, rising to two in every five by the
mid-1970s (Abbott & Doucouliagos, 2003; Norton & Cakitaki, 2016).
By the late-1960s/mid-1970s, young women across different continents started
to invest more in their education to ameliorate the possibility of temporary or
82 5 Education and Training, Career Aspirations …
Going back a generation, this idea of modesty was extolled to women in the
1950s by the National Christian Workers’ Movement, which published a text
entitled: ‘You are her mother: An instruction to mothers on how to train their
daughters in modesty and how to impart sex knowledge to them’. This text offered
guidance to mothers on how to raise their daughters.
Character traits such as being independent, modest, carrying guilt and respon-
sibility, a number of women from Generation 2, in particular, spoke of as being
consequences of growing up and educated Catholic. Andrea suggested that these
character traits, which shaped gendered identities in the 1970s, on the one hand
were virtuous and on the other hand left one less assertive in the workplace.
Andrea’s mother Audrey spoke of how she had a feeling her eldest daughter was
‘more Catholic than she knows’. She related a story of how her eldest daughter, ‘…
said that half her problem [in her career] was that she had this guilt feeling, this
sense of responsibility for all her staff, for other people… she thought it was due to
her Catholic education. That shocked me. I thought have I been wrong? But I think
for her it was something that I should have seen years ago and righted’ (Interview
1995). Audrey believed her daughter’s attributes were not just her own doing but as
a mother she could have intervened and righted her daughter’s concerns during her
secondary schooling years.
Audrey’s comments relate to the work of Kelly (2006), who contends that in the
1990s particular ways of being connected with economic policies enacted in
Australia. These forms of identity known as the ‘Entrepreneurial Self’ he equates
with being an adult who is autonomous, responsible and integrated into
Post-school Pathways: Study and Training: Shifts in Gendered … 83
Even though the topic did not arise in the interviews, in Australia a major change
occurred in higher education policy during the 1970s. From January 1974, the
Whitlam government introduced free tertiary education. Holmes and Thomson
(2017) write
Whitlam’s association with free tertiary education has become a key narrative trope about
the higher education sector in the 1970s. People … who came of age during this period, and
did not have tertiary educated parents, frequently attributed their capacity to enter higher
education to the abolition of fees (p. 13).
Some of the older members of Generation 2 were impacted upon by this change,
although many women in this study at this time undertook nursing or teaching
training rather than University courses. Free tertiary education continued until 1989
when the Higher Education Contribution Scheme (HECS) was introduced by the
Hawke Labour government. In 2007, HECS became known as Commonwealth
Supported Places (CSP). For Generation 3, CSP appeared to be an entrenched
aspect of undertaking study—once again not commented on by interviewees. For
Generation 2, paying higher education fees to, for example, to upgrade their
qualifications from a Diploma to Degree or Masters became a fact of life.
By the 1990s, participation in tertiary education continued to increase, particu-
larly for young women and those from higher socio-economic status backgrounds,
(Andres & Wyn, 2010; Dwyer, Smith, Tyler, & Wyn, 2003; White & Wyn, 2013).
The proportion of female to male enrolments rose from just over 30% in 1975 to
more than 50% by the 1990s, with women constituting the majority of university
students in Australia since 1987 (Norton & Cakitaki, 2016). Where only nine per
cent of women aged in their 20s were attending an Australian higher education
institution in 1976, by 2001 this had increased to 24% (ABS, 2005). Higher rates of
participation in schooling and tertiary education at the time were in direct response
to poor youth employment prospects, particularly those of young women (Dwyer,
1993; Looker & Dwyer, 1998; Wyn, 2009). Women who attended university fared
better across a range of indicators (Long et al., 1999). Longitudinal surveys of
students who completed Year 12 in 1998 found that for young women to achieve a
‘good path’ post school, university qualification attainment was seen to be essential
(Karmel & Liu, 2011, p. 29). This generation of women was at the ‘vanguard’
(Wyn, 2004, p. 8) in their increasing uptake of post-secondary education, partic-
ularly as a basis for gaining economic security—a trend that continued into the
current decade (Andres & Wyn, 2010). Nevertheless, young females take longer to
graduate than male counterparts. Their tertiary education trajectories are interrupted
more often and are more likely than males to be in part-time or casual work whilst
seeking full-time employment following graduation (DET, 2017; Guthrie, 2016).
Reflecting longer term trends, successive generations of interviewees for this
book participated in post-school education and training, reflecting a continuity with
their mothers, with many becoming teachers (see Image 5.1) or working in health
care. Francis (Generation 1), like her twin daughters, undertook post-school edu-
cation. She studied to be a teacher, while her daughter Helen (Generation 2) trained
as a nurse at a Catholic hospital, worked for some time and then in 1985 trained in
Post-school Pathways: Study and Training: Shifts in Gendered … 85
midwifery at the Royal Women’s Hospital. Three years later, Helen studied a
Bachelor of Education at Monash University. Her twin sister, Anne (Generation 2),
studied at a Catholic teacher’s college, Christ College, then worked as a teacher
intermittently while raising her children. She undertook her Bachelor of Teaching
part-time while working, and later gained a Master of Special Education in 2005.
Catholic teacher training was established to transmit a Catholic belief system,
cultural practices and to encourage the social, economic and educational develop-
ment of students. The education of Catholic teachers worked to preserve distin-
guishing religious values and principles in Catholic educational institutions. Since
1956, to protect educational standards in schools and teacher qualification and
registration requirements state models of teacher training were adopted which
shifted the idea of apprenticeship-style training to professional practice.
Compromises were made by Catholic institutions to meet the requirements of State
regulations (Collins, 2005). Anne (Generation 2) remarked that ‘I went to a
Catholic primary school, a Catholic secondary school and a Catholic teacher’s
college… But I feel that I must have had my ears closed for the entire time, because
I don’t know that I learnt a great deal about Catholicism in all those years, but I
86 5 Education and Training, Career Aspirations …
certainly had a good time at the various institutions’. Anne’s sentiments suggest that
religious education in Catholic teacher training institutions may not have been as
robust as in previous times. Bouma (2006) discusses this change in religious
pedagogical practices in terms of the rise of ‘secularism’ in Australia. He writes
the understanding of secularity as a social condition in which the religious and spiritual
have moved out from the control of religious organisations, out from the domination of
churches, proposed by Fenn (2001), seems to be much more useful in seeing and under-
standing current trends in religion and spirituality. This is particularly true in Australia…
where religion and spirituality seem to be undergoing change rather than simple decline
(p. 6).
Trish (Generation 2), who attended Christ College with Anne in the late 1970s,
positioned this shift to a more secular lifestyle within the liberatory times of the
1960s and 1970s. Like Bouma, she believed that religion and spirituality had not
been lost but rather were engaged with by her generation in a different way. Trish
observed
the fact is that I grew up in a different time and all my girlfriends and I were exposed to life
in the 60s and 70s and we were all very excited and optimistic about life and wanted to
enjoy all the secular sides of life that you could. We went along with the Catholic side of it
mostly, but it didn’t direct our lives to the degree that it had directed our parents’ lives
(Interview 1995).
is, in structured training, full-time work or study, then the likelihood of full-time
work ensuing over the next 6 years was strong. However, for those young women
whose main activity in the first post-school year was working part-time, but without
study, or being unemployed, or outside the labour force altogether, then the like-
lihood of a ‘successful pathway’ (Lamb & McKenzie, 2001, p. ix) over the next
6 years was strongly diminished.
daughter was 9 Mary returned to work full-time but ‘because it had changed so
much, I had to go back to work for just a little while and then I took a refresher
course in theatre and then I was back in theatre working’, which she continued for
over 20 years.
Francis’ daughter Helen (Generation 2) was 35 when she was first interviewed in
1995. She pursued a career as a midwife, working at a Melbourne bayside hospital
‘and enjoying it’. She had recently got married and lived in a suburb south of
Melbourne. Her sister Anne moved to South Gippsland, a rural area, ‘working on
and off at the same school…’ for 20 years.
Maria’s daughter, Joan (Generation 2), was nearly 36 years old when first
interviewed in 1995. Her schooling was seen to have a major impact on her
post-school transition to work. Joan was aware that large numbers of students from
elite girls’ schools throughout Melbourne who transitioned to university had
options to study in areas such as law. By contrast, according to Joan, her school Star
of the Sea produced fewer graduates from her year who went to university, with
most undertaking teaching: ‘I suppose all our mates went to teacher’s college which
is fine if you wanted to be a teacher, but you weren’t given the opportunity of
whether or not you did want to be a teacher. So, I’d be very worried about
schooling for my children. I think attitudes of mothers have changed. I wouldn’t
tolerate that now’. Dialogue with her sister Adelaine and mother Maria was
insightful:
Adelaine: Did you think that we had less pressure than the boys?
Joan: Definitely.
Adelaine: Whatever we wanted to do was fine, there wasn’t that much of [a
choice] whereas the boys were…
Joan: Make up your own minds whereas the boys were ‘oh you’d like to do
law’.
Maria: Beg your pardon!
Joan: Well it wasn’t Mum, it was just more: ‘figure out what you want to be,
you can’t be a phys-ed teacher…’ That was the only thing you said to
me, whereas the boys were ‘well you’re going to do law, medicine or
dentistry.’ That’s what I remember.
Maria: Yes, I suppose so and none of you can do journalism [like your father]
and that’s that.
Some of the women went onto undertake post-school study in Catholic teaching
and nursing institutions; for example, Marie (Generation 1) and her daughter
Bernadette (Generation 2) both trained as nurses at St Vincent’s Hospital. Anne,
Trish, Fiona and Loreto (Generation 2) undertook teaching studies at Christ College
(a Catholic teacher’s college) in Chadstone. Whilst Joanne, Olivia and Emily from
generation three were undertaking various degrees at Australian Catholic
University, Melbourne when last interviewed.
90 5 Education and Training, Career Aspirations …
Conclusion
The life experiences of interviewees across generations echo broader national trends
in education attainment. Dropping out of school early was more common in the
testimonies of older participants. Some found school difficult, while others expe-
rienced health difficulties or became family carers. Others had to work to survive.
Tertiary education pathways continue to dominate young women’s post-school
transitions in Australia and globally (Norton & Cakitaki, 2016). Young women are
more highly educated and are entering the workforce in larger numbers than any
previous generation of women (Price Waterhouse Coopers, 2015). Echoing these
trends, successive generations of interviewees participated in more study and
training. Many became teachers and nurses. More recent generations embraced
areas such as law, humanities, counselling and marketing, while others followed the
pathways of their mothers, aunties and sisters. Some studied part-time while
working and raising families. Themes of change and continuity emerged across
generations, with pathways changing across generations for some, while others
pursued new areas of study, training and work. In the next chapter, we will explore
these post-education and training pathways in closer detail.
Acknowledgements The authors thank Joanne Gleeson for her research assistance in developing
the historical overview of this discussion.
References 91
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Chapter 6
Career, Uncertainty and Working Life:
‘Being Classified as Temporary’
Introduction
Having previously examined national (and some global) trends in school and
post-school study and training, this discussion seeks to further unpack post-school
trajectories of interviewees. The discussion starts by outlining some key historical
trends highlighting the fluid nature of working life. On the one hand, the previous
chapter described how social expectations of women shifted during the twentieth
century, ‘interruptions’ to working life such as becoming a mother remain con-
sistent on the other, along with certain gendered aspects of transitions to work,
family care and post-school life. This discussion outlines wider trends in relation to
gender, attainment levels and employment, highlighting how young people think
about career and work in a more fluid labour market. The attitudes of more recent
generations reflect a feeling of having more choice and flexibility and show a more
strategic attitude to career and family. In some ways, younger participants face a
different kind of workforce to their mothers, grandmothers and aunties.
We will draw on the work of Australian historian Katie Holmes to gain insights into
women’s lives in the early twentieth century. During this period, the expectation
was that young white Australian women would get married. Marriage was seen to
provide financial and physical security, love and companionship. For women,
financial independence was challenging as employment opportunities were few and
wages were about fifty per cent of a male wage (Holmes, 1995). To marry and bear
offspring was the normative positioning and also took on a nationalist role as it was
about ‘populating the Empire’ and maintaining the domination of the white culture
(Holmes, 1998). Other avenues for a single Catholic woman included becoming a
nun or caring for elderly parents.
As outlined in Chap. 3, within this era of the suffragettes, Mary and her best
friend Vera (pre-Generation 1) were young women emerging from their school lives
and coming out into the broader society (see Image 6.1). Mary took up a role as a
Primary school teacher and then helped her parents care for relatives on the Murray
River, in the north of Victoria. In her early 30s she married and went onto have
Image 6.1 Vera and Mary with nuns at Yarrawonga convent 1928
Early Twentieth Century: Means to Financial Security 97
three girls. Vera’s life after study took a different direction to Mary’s. Vera was an
orphan and had been raised by an uncle, a priest. Vera entered the convent to
become a nun. Patricia, Mary’s daughter, commented ‘She probably entered the
convent because there was nowhere else for her to live’. The reasons why Vera
entered the novitiate are not fully clear. However, like Mona in Chap. 5, a life in the
convent offered her a sense of closeness to God and security as a woman. After she
left the convent, ‘she worked all her life until retirement because she needed to
work’.
Vera remained a single woman but was financially independent throughout her
life as she worked and her Uncle (a priest) left her some money. Vera bought a
cottage in Armadale, an inner suburb of Melbourne. Patricia told the story of how
Vera took on a caring role in the community: ‘She cared for people around her.
Come Christmas time, she would have all the people who were living alone or
lonely people at her house for Christmas, a very caring lady’.
Holmes (1995) contends that in the 1920s–30s:
The advocacy of maternity as women’s natural occupation meant that for women who were
not mothers, their paid work received little or no social endorsement…While women
themselves may not have worried about whether their work was socially endorsed or not,
especially if they needed money to survive, they did not have the language with which write
about, or even conceive of, their work in positive and expansive terms (p. 40).
and that was an advance on what had been the previous situation, which was once you were
married you no longer worked. And I think a similar situation happened in banks and big
companies… And the question was always asked: ‘when you are getting married?’ You
never even ask people now when they get married whether they are going to continue
working it is just assumed that they will (Interview 1995).
Continuing on from the discussion in the previous chapter, other key social changes
occurred during the latter half of the twentieth century. Australian women were
more able to control the timing of childbirth with the advent of the contraceptive
pill, although for Catholic women, using contraception is against church teachings.
In July 1968, Pope Paul VI adopted a conservative minority stance on contracep-
tion. The encyclical Humane Vitae was issued which disallowed the use of con-
traception. There was an outcry from Catholics and many unable to reconcile the
inflexible encyclical against the need for a more current sexual ethics grounded by a
relational sexual stance in rather than one based on biological functions of repro-
duction (O’Brien, 2008). In 1995, Sally (Generation 2) explained her situation and
commented on attacking remarks made to her by a priest about the size of her
family
I think [the Vatican II edict on contraception] has made a lot of my generation very
unhappy. I remember going to Mass and there was a mission priest there, ‘why didn’t I
have my fourth child’? That was offensive I thought and at that time I think I’d only had
two and I didn’t have a very well husband (Interview 1995).
Her mother Aileen retorted, ‘Oh it’s just wrong in my opinion, my humble
opinion I must say and I’m so glad my daughter [Sally] doesn’t have that attitude
[to follow Catholic church teachings]’. O’Brien contends that ‘Even 40 years later,
the wounds have not healed. For many Catholics, both clergy and lay, their rela-
tionship with the church would never be the same’ (p. 23). Trish, in 1995, talked
about the Catholic church’s ruling on contraception and how it had impacted on her
relationship with her mother
… many Roman Catholic rules I have chosen for myself despite what the church would
say. I know that many, many Catholic people do that, in particular with regard to con-
traception but also with regard to other rules of the Catholic church. I don’t know how
much guilt affects me, but my mother certainly makes me feel guilty about disregarding the
principles of the Catholic church (Interview 1995).
Reporting on her longitudinal study, Bjerrum Nielsen (2017) claims that ‘the
mother–daughter relationship seems to be experienced as most emotional when it is
conflictual’ (p. 258). She goes onto write that ‘The women who are the angriest
with their mothers suffer from feelings of guilt because they can also see that their
mother’s situation was difficult and because of the unclear borders between them’
(p. 259). Nevertheless, Trish was neither angry with her mother nor her mother
necessarily angry with her daughter. Trish noted that she and her mother agreed to
disagree on a range of issues and ‘it is hard to discuss some things as my mother
had made it very clear all along what the black or white Catholic answer was to
every issue… I know I’m still in her prayers every day for me to mend my ways’
(Interview 1995).
Beyond religion, the life transitions and choices of interviewees need to also be
understood within gendered structures and expectations. Like Adelaine, Nadia’s
100 6 Career, Uncertainty and Working Life: ‘Being Classified as Temporary’
Debra enjoyed the choice of lifestyle and though uncertain about her future, felt
a sense of agency in navigating her future. Reflecting the geographic mobility of
interviewees described in the previous chapter, Debra had already travelled and
worked multiple times in Europe and Asia. Debra credited her parents as great
mentors as well as some friends. Debra did not feel as though her schooling helped
her career choice; rather her ‘way of doing things [came] from the family, from dad
like working so hard… as a builder’ and having the value that ‘if you’re doing a
Life Transitions and Choice: ‘I Feel That’s My Life’ 101
job, do it right kind of thing.’ She was grateful for what her family went through to
get her to where she was. She commented ‘I think technology and the way of life
has gone so fast… I think it’s too much.’ Debra was inspired by her grandmother
who was [a teacher] and ‘a go getter. It’s so hard for female teachers… If you’re a
female, it’s so much harder for that generation and now it’s like females can do
anything and … it’s very equal opportunity now. Work life has changed a lot.’
Ronnie: I guess it’s that whole tension between what wellbeing is and our
sense of wellness and health.
Anne: Yes, and I think again making those sort of intergenerational
comparisons… our nieces spoke about the tensions they find in
striving to manage their own wellbeing. One of your nieces is a
teacher. She coordinates VCE at a public school and she spoke
about the amount of work that she has to do and the impact that that
has on her…
Ronnie: I think she’s striving to find some work/life balance, but that’s a
challenging aspect for her… she spoke to another leader at the
school who said, ‘Well, you work during the school term and then
you have your holidays’. That’s the rationale for these hours of
work that you put in in ten-week blocks, but for my niece that’s not
enough…It’s also these scripts that are norms which we are bound
by, but we try to step out of the norms and resist them.
A wider trend emerged during the later twentieth century in which young women
adopted a more strategic and ambitious outlook, focusing on careers. Research on a
generation of young Australians that left secondary school in 1991 found that those
with a tertiary qualification expressed stronger aspirations to have a career than
men, as well as to attain steady employment. Women with less than a university
degree also expressed a stronger desire to get into steady employment than their
young male counterparts (Cuervo & Wyn, 2011). This generation of women ‘had
high expectations for their careers’, with at least 8 out of 10 investing in some form
of post-secondary education (Cuervo, Wyn, & Crofts, 2012, p. 8).
Young women have been shown to be ‘enterprising and strategic’ in attitude,
with a focus on constructing their future pathways (McLeod & Yates, 2006, p. 199).
102 6 Career, Uncertainty and Working Life: ‘Being Classified as Temporary’
to teach secondary school once she completed her degree. But like others of her
generation, Lucy’s plans were fluid: ‘Just maybe work, find out a bit more about
myself, and experience some more places, and meet some new people, and just
broaden myself a bit outside of just Melbourne’.
In the most recent generation, there was a mixture of those clearly focused on
undertaking post-study for specific careers (e.g. in law, marketing and counselling),
while others were more laissez-faire in attitude. Aileen’s daughter Sally
(Generation 2) took a vocational pathway to become a teacher at a regional College,
while her granddaughter Katelyn (Generation 3) studied occupational therapy at a
Melbourne University before taking maternity leave. Christina (Marie’s grand-
daughter) at the age of 22, commented
After high school, I’ve travelled around working on different communities and just learning
about different things and travelling. And now I am in one place, back in Sydney, trying to
build something and working on boats and possibly looking to do some study and yeah, just
building on different practices (Interview 2016).
Anne: Well, I think they dream of study and careers but yet it’s not in
terms of a fixed career-
Ronnie: It’s multiple careers.
Though feeling empowered to make choices about future pathways and pursue
careers and families, the most recent generation also expressed uncertainty about
their futures, which several assumed would be non-linear. Despite completing a
Law Degree, Jane had not:
worked out what I want to do with my life yet, so like work isn’t very important to me… I
was thinking about it this year of maybe doing a career change, but now that I’m pregnant
I’m like this job is so easy and I could probably do it three days a week, so it’s probably
quite a good job to have for the next few years. So maybe I’ll reassess in five years
(Interview 2015).
But her former partner ‘sort of provided a bit of a juxtaposition to that … “oh,
yeah, definitely I got more things done” and I wouldn’t have gone into work [except
for him] I think I would have just stayed at uni[versity] for ages longer’.
As she neared the end of her studies at Australian Catholic University (ACU),
Pauline’s daughter Joanne was also uncertain about her future
I currently [have a job] yes but we’re closing. I work at a children’s store at Southland
[shopping centre], and I’m going to lose my job, because we’re closing down. Our last day
is the 31st of May so I have to look again for a new job because I didn’t get my job back at
Target [a retail store] when I got back from Europe. I got a job within a week working at a
café, but I didn’t like the café and I’ve been through all sorts of job-hunting adventures
since. And to date it’s not really working out very well (Interview 2016).
106 6 Career, Uncertainty and Working Life: ‘Being Classified as Temporary’
Joanne added:
it’s kind of soon for me at this stage, which is a bit scary. I don’t know I just kind of want to
find a job that I’m actually happy with and then I’m thinking of teaching English overseas.
I think that would be kind of cool, and it would mean I could travel and work at the same
time (Interview 2016).
Her mother, Pauline, added: ‘Yeah they want a qualification, they want expe-
rience… [And] someone they can ring up at five minutes’ notice that will drop
everything and come’. Research shows that of young people who left secondary
school in 2006, 68% had been employed in two to five jobs by 2010, with 12%
having had in excess of five jobs in that time frame (Crofts, Cuervo, Wyn, Smith, &
Woodman, 2015). Sally’s daughter, Sarah was onto her fifth job, working part-time
in the disability area for the Victorian Education Department in schools. Sarah did
not know if she wanted to be an Occupational Therapist for the rest of her life.
Francis’ granddaughter, Emily, was hoping to work in paramedics and nursing
following her study at ACU. She was working in a number of jobs to save for
travel. Working several jobs in a very casualised workforce was challenging, par-
ticularly getting a job with sufficient hours. In one employment situation, Emily’s
mother Helen intervened on Emily’s behalf because Emily was being mistreated:
‘no one needs to be treated the way Emily was treated or any of the other employees
but then I thought later maybe I’m just being a helicopter parent [laughs]’. The
mothers of the latest generation appeared to want to keep their distance from
exerting their opinions over their daughter’s futures.
Despite the growing ambitions of young women in recent decades, career paths
are often difficult for women to navigate (Cuervo & Wyn, 2011). For example,
those able to take up professional jobs with a degree of permanency upon gradu-
ation are by no means secure in the longer term because some workplaces are not
‘family friendly’ (Andres & Wyn, 2010). In addition, longitudinal research has
shown the private rate of return on a university degree for young women has in the
past been lower overall than for young men. This was the case in 1989/90 and was
also lower than the previous generation of females who had attained a university
qualification in 1968/69, 1973/74 and 1978/79 (Maglen, 1994). The educational
investment by many women (and their parents) in their tertiary education during
The Anxieties and Challenges of Contemporary Working Life … 107
this time did not pay off for them to the same extent that it has their male coun-
terparts (Andres & Wyn, 2010).
A disconnect has been noted between the higher career expectations of young
women and the limited labour market opportunities for this demographic group
(Krahn & Galambos, 2014).
Hannah (Generation 3) spoke of how fortunate she was to secure a graduate job
as a nurse. She commented on how she felt ‘grown-up’ when applying for another
position as an experienced nurse. A conversation with her twin sister Sarah about
the high number of nurses who missed out on graduate positions when Hannah
completed her course highlights their experience of this amongst their peers:
Hannah: I’ve been kind of lucky getting my new job. When I had my grad year at the
Children’s [hospital] it was ongoing, so I could stay there forever pretty much. It’s a good
ward where there’s probably about six different specialties. I kind of felt like I was growing
up by going for another job and another girl from my work went for a job as well. As
grownups really applying for another job, it’s pathetic. In your grad year you have to
anyway, don’t you? Because your kind of guaranteed a spot almost but…
Sarah: Not really, in your grad year there was heaps of people that missed out –
Hannah: Oh no, you’re right. We didn’t know at that time that 17,000 [nurses] missed out
in my grad year. It was the worst year for nursing… It was a bad year. Pretty much all my
friends didn’t get a grad year, it was horrible (Interview 2016).
Following the growth of female labour force participation since the 1970s,
employment growth flat-lined for a number of years following the GFC (Hajkowicz
et al., 2016). While the share of highly educated youth Not in Education,
Employment, or Training (NEET) is relatively low today, it rose following the
GFC, with the share of highly educated among NEETs in Australia rising from 14
to 18% since 2007, with young women representing the higher proportion of
NEETs (OECD, 2016).
Young women continue to have higher rates of underemployment and
underutilisation, despite an increase in female labour force participation from 43%
in 1978 to just under 60% in 2015 (Hajkowicz et al., 2016, p. 9)1. They are more
often in part-time work than not and account for approximately 60% of Australian
youth not ‘earning or learning’ (Lamb, Jackson, Walstab, & Huo, 2015, p. 72). In
Australia, transitions from full-time education to full-time employment take an
average of 4.7 years, an increase of around 25% since the GFC, with young women
faring worse than young men (Stanwick, Lu, Rittie, & Circelli, 2014). In 2015,
graduate surveys in Australia were pointing to a considerable reduction of
Bachelors degree graduates overall in full-time work 4 months after completing
their degree—the worst figures since the 1992–1993 recession (Carvalho, 2015;
Karmel & Carroll, 2016). A 2018 Graduate Outcomes Survey showed that job
prospects were slightly on the improve with 73% of undergraduates in some type of
full-time work 4 months after completing their degree—an increase of one per-
centage point (DET, 2018). By aged 20–24, more men are in full-time work than
females (49.6% of males compared with 37.3% of females) (Robinson & Lamb,
2012, p. 12). One gender analysis of school-to-work transitions surveys across 32
countries shows that despite increasing levels and duration of education for both
young men and women, ‘being young and female can [still] serve as a double strike
for those seeking to find productive employment’ (Elder & Kring, 2016, p. 2).
International research of young people reaching young adulthood in the early
twenty-first century has found unemployment and job security to be of concern,
with many of this generation in mature employment markets such as Australia
expecting to be worse off financially and career-wise than the previous generation
(Deloitte, 2017). Feelings of uncertainty and caution emerged in studies of the late
1990s (Du Bois Reymond, 1998; Gordan & Lahelma, 2004). A more recent survey
found 67% of 18- to 29-year olds were concerned about their future career pro-
spects in the current economic climate, with 76% of 18- to 20-year-old young
women being the most concerned in this age group (Co-op, 2015).
1
The number of working-age men not participating in the workforce grew twofold during the same
period (Hajkowicz et al., 2016, p. 9).
Conclusion 109
Conclusion
As also shown in the previous chapter, the testimonies of interviewees shed light on
continuities and change in the working lives of women. The older generation of
women faced a more hostile workforce and for some full-time work began at the
age of 14. The second generation tended to undertake a Year 12 equivalent, but two
early school leavers took on apprenticeship-type work. Younger generations
expressed a sense of freedom and possibility and were aware of the opportunities
available to them compared to previous generations. Lifestyle choices fluctuated
alongside a precarious labour market that curtailed the working expectations of this
younger generation. The mothers of the third generation expressed concern at
casualisation of the workforce and the employment conditions of their daughters.
To some degree, across the generations the influence of mothers, aunties and sisters
could be seen on young women’s career choice. As some social expectations shifted
across earlier generations, stark gendered differences persist. Overlaying and
intersecting these are the continuities and disruptions to work and family arising
from balancing the role of mothering with working life and the pursuit of life
projects after work and family. This is the main focus of the next chapter.
Acknowledgements The authors thank Joanne Gleeson for her research assistance in developing
the historical overview of this discussion.
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Chapter 7
Life After Study and Training: ‘Building
Something’
Abstract This chapter examines the testimonies of women concerning life after
study and training and explores the continuities and disruptions to work and family.
The experiences of the women were in a large part consistent with wider national
trends. Non-linear transitions into lifelong careers were not unusual. Family caring
duties and ill-health were some reasons for disruptions to careers. Precarity and
fluidity in relation to workforce participation was a feature of employment across
the generations but, in particular, featured prominently in the testimonies of the
third generation. Life journeys after study and training were diverse across all
generations, yet the influence of family on shaping post-school decisions was
evident for some women. Happiness in work and life was of importance to all
women. Post-family life was experienced in a myriad of ways with retirement for
some opening up new opportunities and activities. There are some indications that
for the third generation, certain markers of transition such as leaving home, pur-
chasing property and securing full-time stable work were happening later in life.
Still, across all the generations post-school pathways are uneven.
Introduction
Previously, the education, training and work pathways of interviewees were traced
across generations. Where the previous discussion attempted to locate the education
and training pathways in a wider macro context, this chapter is more focused on the
stories of life after study and training, exploring the continuities and disruptions to
work and family. There is no single ‘story’ capturing these life journeys, as they are
diverse within and across generations. A significant number of interviewees
(20) found their way into lifelong careers, although for some this pathway was
non-linear. Around the same proportion became full-time carers of their families,
with a few disengaging from work for health reasons. This discussion explores the
challenges of combining work and family, discussing the role and influence of
family, siblings and community in shaping post-school trajectories.
It was one way of being able to leave your job in the government because they were very,
very strict in those days with the war on, [so you] couldn’t change jobs.” She loved nursing
at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Melbourne… because of the friendship with work-colleagues. It
was “one of the happiest times of my life. And I graduated from there and I went with two
others, my sister-in-law as she is today, and another girl” (Interview 1995).
Marie went to Sydney and did her midwifery at St. Margaret’s Hospital in
Darlinghurst and commented: “my heart melted for those little babies” (see
Image 7.1). Marie stopped work when it came time for her to raise a family.
Marie’s eldest daughter Bernadette (Generation 2) also worked in a government
office when she left school until she began her nurse’s training at St. Vincent’s
where her mother trained. Bernadette then undertook a midwifery course at the
Mercy hospital Melbourne following which she nursed in paediatrics at a
Melbourne hospital. She then worked as a community health nurse in an Aboriginal
community in south-west Queensland (see Image 7.2 of Bernadette bathing a baby
at the health clinic).
In her longitudinal research of employment and career choices across four
generations of American women, Goldin (2006) found most women during the
post-World War II to mid-1970s era expected to move into family and social roles
upon leaving school, and when post-school study was undertaken, it was done so
more as a way to meet a suitable spouse than a basis upon which to pursue a career.
Like Marie, caring for families featured in the life-courses of many interviewees.
Giving up work for family was prominent amongst the older generations in par-
ticular. Marie and Patricia’s mother, Mary (pre-Generation 1), was a primary tea-
cher at Mercy College and was studying to teach but had to relocate to Barnawartha
in north-eastern Victoria to care for extended family, who had been orphaned. She
continued to teach but stopped when married. Francis (Generation 1) had two girls,
followed by two boys and remembers ‘quite distinctly that I didn’t really consider
having a career for very long and I was quite prepared to give it away when I got
married. I worked as a therapy radiographer at [a cancer treatment centre] just until
after I was married’.
Having left school early, Agatha’s (Generation 1) father suggested she do a
course at Burroughs Business College and got a job through that college. She
worked for the Board of Works for 11 years before caring for her family full-time.
This was not completely by choice: ‘Actually they didn’t accept married women
back in the government offices, [who implied] ‘we were city government Board of
Works, oh no, once you married you left’. You could take up part-time jobs or
full-time jobs if need be, but, no, your father would have had a fit if I’d taken on a
job. I was his wife, he was to keep me’.
Combining Work and Family: ‘I Looked Around as to What to Do Next’ 117
Ronnie: I think of the types of work that my mother did, and the length of
her days prior to being married. She worked up until my older
brother was born but not after that. To move beyond the working
class, it was education that was seen as the key liberator. Work was
just a normal part of her life, it wasn’t something to complain
about. It was just -
Anne: how it was…
Ronnie: Well I just think they had their extended family and everyone was
too busy really to have friends.
Anne: … my mother, after having raised seven of us, would have liked to
have gone back to work, but she was constrained by her illness…
And many of her friends in the late 60s, early 70s went back to
work. She felt that she lost some of her friends because they were
too busy then to engage with her… She found her support network
in being on tucks hops and supporting us. That was her work.
Ronnie: Yes, that’s right. It’s interesting because both Mona [my mother]
and Marie [your mother] talk about doing tuckshop duty, being
involved in the mother’s club, doing all of those sorts of things.
And Mona said, ‘That is what you did then’. There would be
absolutely no talk of going back to work. But I remember my sister,
Sue going back to work, and having one of her daughters in
childcare. I remember how shocked Mona was at that… with my
kids she was fantastic. She looked after my kids when I went back
to work. I have to say that I know that I was a much better mother
because of working. And I know with my nieces, all who’ve had
children, say, ‘I’m a much better mother through working’. I would
have gone mad with every day child rearing, there’s a lot of
sameness… And I guess that’s the dream that I don’t think our
mothers would ever have had, that we would have children and
then go back to work. In fact, that was frowned upon… Similarly,
with my niece [Sue’s daughter] just having had her daughter. Sue,
her mother is looking after Tess [the baby]. But Sue’s still doing
some work. So that whole work-life identity is very real for us.
mother ‘was rather lonesome. Not only that, but she was a very good dressmaker,
so for quite many years she went to work [at various outlets] making curtains. She
was what I suppose you would now call these days a working mother, but she
didn’t realise that. She was working for money’.
Others combined family, study and work. Francis (Generation 1) studied
part-time at RMIT while raising four children. She completed her study in 1974
after four or five years:
So, having finished that, I looked around as to what to do next, saw an advertisement for
teacher training and thought well working in a school library would be a good idea because
I was very, very conscious of not being away after school and when the children came
home. I most certainly still considered it my problem to do all the housework, do all the
shopping – less of the shopping, my husband was pretty good with the shopping. But I
thought it was my responsibility to do the housework and certainly to have the dinner ready
every night. So, the school seemed a good idea (Interview 1995).
Francis retired in 1999, but ‘really enjoyed working, I loved it’ but felt it was a
good time to leave before her love of the work soured.
The most recent generation was perhaps more consciously seeking a balance of
work, family and life in general. Claire, 28, was third out of five children to Marie
(Generation 2). She got married and had two children. After graduating from a
Sydney girls high school, Claire worked at Kentucky Fried Chicken before joining
Alliance where she continued working for 10 years before becoming Senior
Premium Services Officer. Claire struggled to balance work and family:
I do want to work and things like that but sometimes that comes in quite a bit of conflict
with your home life. Just trying to find that balance… it gives me something to strive for
and sometimes I feel like I do good - it’s a good confidence booster… You’re sure of
yourself. When you’re raising kids, everything you do you question, and you’re not sure if
it’s the right thing or not and you never know until years later whether how you did was the
right thing. Whereas, when you’re working, at least it’s some consistency and some sur-
ety… There is a lot of hardships… going on, and I still manage to push through and come
to work and try and get there for my kids, even though most of the time you just want to
bundle up and hide under the covers (Interview 2016).
Cath’s capacity to work was influenced by her husband’s career to the extent that
she relocated for his work to Asia, where she mostly undertook volunteer work.
There is another continuity across generations. The allocation of Australian
parents’ time to paid and unpaid work remains very gendered, with fathers usually
in full-time employment and mothers often employed part-time or not in employ-
ment (Baxter, 2013). Australian mothers also spend more time than fathers doing
household work, whether that is child care or other domestic work (ABS, 2016),
reflecting a gendered pattern across a number of countries (Craig & Mullan, 2010,
2011; Hook, 2006; Sayer, 2005). The imbalance of family duties and household
work in Australia has been attributed to the high rate of part-time working mothers,
or potentially as a reflection of mothers’ constrained employment choices in that
they may not always be able to work under conditions they would like (Baxter,
2016).
Changes in working hours or career pathways due to family, care and household
responsibilities impacts women far greater than their male counterparts (Baxter,
2016; Skinner & Pocock, 2014; Van Egmond, Baxter, Buchler, & Western, 2010).
Despite significant social changes over past decades, the ‘male breadwinner/female
caregiver model of the 20th century is alive and well in 21st century Australia, and
many workplace cultures are made in the image of the full-time male worker
unencumbered by care responsibilities’ (Skinner & Pocock, 2014, pp. 1–2). Survey
data from 2005 suggests that, despite increasingly egalitarian views about gender
work and household roles in the decades post-World War II to the mid-1990s,
attitudes among Australian men and women have since ‘slowed markedly and
possibly stalled’ (Van Egmond et al., 2010, p. 162). In 2005, a significant pro-
portion of Australian men (41% of men surveyed) and women (36% of women
surveyed) agreed that ‘it is better for the family if the husband is the principal
breadwinner outside the home and the wife has primary responsibility for the home
120 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
and children’. (These trends are mirrored in international studies (Braun & Scott,
2009).) There is evidence of an increasing conservatism from the mid-1990s toward
combining paid work and mothering, as well as a loss of interest in feminist issues
by more recent generations of women: ‘[Australians] are supportive of women’s
greater access to work outside the home but only if this work does not interfere with
their primary responsibility as mothers’ (Van Egmond et al., 2010, p. 164). This
was not evident in the interviews conducted for this book, but nor was it directly
explored during the interviews.
The question can be raised, ‘has anything changed for the third generation
regarding transition to work, study and life?’ The findings of an Australian inter-
generational study from the 1990s are of interest. Reporting on this study, Bulbeck
(1997) notes that ‘Women encounter prescriptions for ideal behaviour in their
family, among their friends, in cultural representations like books and the media, at
school and university. Their capacity to choose between future options, for
example, various combinations of work and motherhood, will depend on their
education, their control over their own bodies, the work sites to which they have
access’ (p. 9). One of her research participants claimed, ‘that feminism needs to be
learned ‘over and over’ in each generation’ (p. 209).
These chapters, like Bulbeck (1997), are concerned with how girls and women
think about and grapple with the meanings accorded to their lives. Although the
influence of the feminist movement was not directly explored in the interviews
(unlike Bulbeck’s study), ideological positionings that shape how the women
perceive of themselves are those of religion, gender, family, motherhood and work.
Although difficult to pinpoint and measure in terms of the notion of feminism,
continuities and changes in ‘attitudes, self-definitions and expectations for women’
(Bulbeck, p. 211) come through in the testimonies of the women. The endurance
and variations between and across generations in the women’s outlooks on life
come under a feminist analysis in the next section of the book.
For interviewees, post-family life was experienced in different ways across gen-
erations. When interviewed in 1994 Nadia (Generation 1) was retired ‘and filling
my life with all sorts of things that I haven’t been able to do before’ such as
environmental work in the Mud Islands and building her retirement home. When
first interviewed in 1994, Nadia’s daughter Pam was 40 years old, and like her
mother, pursued a career in teaching. Pam was teaching in an Aboriginal teacher
adult education program while living in the most north-west community in South
Australia. She had retired from teaching when interviewed in 2016, before which
she had been principal in South Australian schools:
Life After Work and Raising Family: ‘My Job Doesn’t Define Who I Am’ 121
living up [in north-west south Australia] was sort of more than work – it was quite an
experience of a lifetime, and … had a huge impact on me. I feel very privileged to have
spent some really good amount of time up there and met some really lifelong friends,
family. Been privileged to have been to places, seen places, and participated in ceremonies
that not many other people would have had access to or experienced (Interview 2016).
Pam spends her retirement doing art and gardening. She also became a Justice of
the Peace, ‘so that’s my community contribution’. Pam did not have children as she
‘never, ever had a maternal instinct’ however, working with little children in
schools felt ‘like they’re my kids’. As a former principal, Pam remained a respected
member of the community: ‘people still introduce me as “Pam, she was the prin-
cipal here”. I think “oh please, my job doesn’t define who I am, or my old job”…
But so, going back to community, I do little things, I help out with the Lions Club
of all things, in the donut van at Christmas…. It’s hilarious, I love it’.
Others like Pam felt free to pursue their own interests. When interviewed in
2016, Peg (Generation 1) was living alone after the death of her husband eight years
earlier. She was living ‘very close to all sorts of shops and things. I try to keep as
busy as I can’, attending University of the Third Age classes in biology, greeting
card making and Italian classes. Sadly, Peg passed away in December 2017 whilst
this book was being written.
The second generation described certain challenges as well as happiness in work
and life. When asked what the biggest change in life over the past 2 years is, Fleur
(Generation 2) replied:
I think probably my work has been the biggest change. The kids are in primary school and
are settled. We have a new home here… and it was time to do something for myself, so that
was a big change… I retrained about five years ago and did my DipEd in primary education
and work at a local Catholic primary school (Interview 2016).
Pat’s daughter Mary (Generation 2) divorced in 2002 and moved from rural
Victoria back to her hometown of Melbourne. She worked for 15 years in a steady
job, and in 2016 was ‘single, happy, new property, new house’. Pat’s other daughter
Fiona took time out to raise her children before working in a job share position in
teaching while she continued to raise her family. Having undertaken a teaching
course in primary education, Sally (Generation 2) worked in special education for
3 days a week when she was interviewed in 2016. She commented that she was
‘thinking about winding down because my husband has retired and I’m running a
program at the Department of Health and with the Education Department’.
Trish (Generation 2), who was 35 when interviewed in 1995, studied Primary
teaching at Christ College (a Catholic teacher’s college). She taught in government
schooling but took a voluntary redundancy package: ‘I thought that I was a good
teacher, but I was in the position of having bought a house in South Gippsland and I
had managed to pay that off after trying pretty hard in 8 years of teaching, so I
thought I could take a package and do some other things in life’. Trish continued:
There were a number of influences on that decision; probably the most important one was
the fact that I had been going out with [my partner] for a couple of years and I’d had a
strong history of work and saving and that sort of thing. His background had been very
122 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
different. He hadn’t had many long-term jobs at all and, well, that influenced me in taking
the package. Since I’ve stopped teaching, I’ve had over a year at home. I had an interest in
gardening and I’ve started up a very small lawn-mowing and gardening business (Interview
1995).
Trish then dedicated her time to raising her children. Her mother, Meg
(Generation 1), did not approve of women working while raising children. By the
age of 57, Trish had returned to casual relief teaching which was challenging ‘but
soon my children will be taking control of their own lives and that I will embark on
something new… It could be more volunteer work’ (Interview 2016).
Building on discussion in previous chapters, the final part of this chapter explores
the influence and role of parents, siblings and community in shaping life after
school. Some parents and grandparents expressed both concern and optimism about
the contemporary working lives of their offspring. Lucille (Generation 1), for
example, was worried about the challenges facing her granddaughters as women
making their way in contemporary worlds of work. Returning to Maria from the
first generation of interviewees, she was of the strong view that
children [should] choose their careers very carefully… My husband once said that if he
wasn’t paid for his job, he’d do it as a hobby, and I thought that’s the ultimate in choosing a
career. And I don’t suppose I have quite as good as that… When I was first nursing as a
married woman, women working was just a means to an end, it wasn’t a career at all, it
wasn’t considered as though they should be ambitious in any way and it was only towards
the end that I started to think of nursing as something for people to contribute to and… it
was really just to make money (Interview 1995).
A 1995 dialogue between Maria and her grown children, Adelaine and Joan,
highlighted the challenges facing women and their expectations for work and
family life, and how this intersects with perceived issues of gender and mobility:
Maria: The big thing was that I was the first generation of women out working
and I don’t think we handled it terribly well. There was absolutely no
suggestion that a husband should have any responsibilities what so ever
at home or in day-to-day decision-making shopping and everything
else, opinions on where the family would live, and how they’d be
housed, and that sort of thing didn’t come into it. It was still a woman’s
prerogative as it had been when we were doing that full-time but then
Role of Parents and Siblings: ‘Encouragement to Try What We Wanted’ 123
they just found themselves working full-time as well and I think the
adjustment was mismanaged.
Adelaine: Well, it still is being mismanaged.
Maria: Well, not according to the magazines.
Joan: But fundamentally, the women still do the day to day care of every child
regardless.
Maria: Maybe so men know that they don’t impinge if they’re putting in. They
don’t have to come home and say hey.
Joan: Where’s my dinner? They don’t say it anymore, but I think they still
think it.
Adelaine: I think it’s back-fired.
Joan: What we can get a job now!
Adelaine: Yes, but you’re made to feel guilty if you’re not earning… A woman
should be everything, a worker, an income earner, a home provider…
while I was growing up while Mum was working, I felt somewhat that
the girls in our family weren’t pushed hard to find a career as I would
want my daughter to [pursue a career] these days, that’s just the way
things are changing. I think that it was far more important in our
household that the boys decided what they wanted to do and do with
their lives. We were given every encouragement to try what we wanted
but it wasn’t the same pressures on us, which was probably a good thing
(Interview 1995).
It is interesting that Maria’s daughters challenge her on this point and say it was
different for them as daughters compared to the expectations placed on the sons.
This was a theme running throughout several of the older generations’ testimonies.
Across all generations, parents expressed both desire and concern for their
daughters’ educational and work pathways without explicit desire for them to do
what they did, echoing research that ‘parents are more interested in supporting their
children than in having them follow in their footsteps’ (Gale, Parker, Rodd,
Stratton, & Sealey, 2013, p. 28).
While the testimonies reveal many latter generations pursuing the same careers
as their mothers, the influence of mothers on daughters was often not obvious or
direct. As discussed in the previous chapter, intergenerational transmission is
dynamic and complex (Bjerrum Nielsen, 2017).
Kate (Generation 2) provided an illustration of this. Unlike her two older sisters,
Kate left school early and went to dental nursing. But ‘whether I was influenced by
mum or not I’m not sure’. After training for 2 years, Kate spent around 7 years
travelling intermittently. Then, she decided to study recreation and, in her interview,
commented. ‘Maybe we are quite similar mum we both wanted a bit more’
(Interview 2016). By 2016, she was employed as a practice manager for two dental
specialists at Epworth Hospital, and had been so for around 18 years. Planning
124 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
retirement, Kate was thinking about change: ‘in the next three or four years, I’m
going to have to find something else that sustains me, and it obviously can’t just be
travel. You can’t just travel all the time, so I’ve got to find something new to do.
Study, or learn something new, or do something else’. Like her mother Peg, who
was studying with the University of the Third Age in her later years, Kate believed
she would also be seeking ongoing intellectual stimulation.
For at least two interviewees, it was their sisters that influenced their career
choices. Like her mother, Patricia (Generation 1) ‘did some kindergarten teaching’,
but her choice to enter the profession was influenced by her sister, Inez, who
worked on a mobile teaching unit that travelled ‘round in a caravan to the outback
areas of Canberra’. Anne, the researcher like her aunt Inez also worked on a mobile
kindergarten (see Images 7.3 and 7.4). This work was taken up as a graduate and
involved moving to New Zealand. Kate’s sister Fleur (Generation 2) followed her
sister’s footsteps into recreation. Aged 31 in 1995, Fleur was ‘not married and I get
asked why not [laughs]’. After school, she had a few jobs and undertook a secre-
tarial course before undertaking the recreation degree and that was good to do
something different: ‘it opened my eyes to a few different things and led to work at
the Victorian Institute of Sport to do the secretarial work’.
Some research suggests that young Australians see themselves as copying their
parents’ choices in relation to study and work (Webb, Black, Morton, Plowright, &
Roy, 2015). Another study into the relationship between parent behaviours and
child learning outcomes identifies no causal relationship between parental expec-
tations and student attainment (Huat See & Gorada, 2015). Interviewees for this
book indicate a rich variation of sources and types of influences on their transition
choices, as was evident in the influences of Catholic education.
Image 7.4 Anne (co-author) in the rural area of Taupo, New Zealand with Lakeland Mobile
Kindergarten, 1981
The influence of a Catholic upbringing and for some, a Catholic education differed
within and across generations, as well as across the two phases of interviews. For
example, Sue (Generation 2) in 1995 was teaching at a Catholic girls secondary
college. She occasionally taught Religious Education, finding that ‘teaching its
morality very easy, Gospel values I find really easy to teach but I have great
difficulty teaching, supporting a lot of the ritual of the church…’ (Interview 1995).
Others were more ambiguous. By 2016, Fleur (Generation 2) was working full-time
in a Catholic primary school. Despite some turning away from Catholicism, she not
only worked for a Catholic school but also sent her children to Catholic schools:
and I’m happy for them to attend Catholic schools because, like [her sister] Kate, I think,
the reason why you sent us to Catholic schools, mum, because they offer a pastoral care that
is missing in government schools. I don’t even know if that is missing in government
schools, because we’ve never gone down that path, but it’s certainly there in Catholic
schools, and … there is a sense of community in the school, and … a sense of belonging,
and that’s pretty important. They say that the church is not inside the four walls of the
church – that it’s all around you – so maybe that’s the more relevant church now (Interview
2016).
In 2015, Sue’s response to teaching for 20 years at that same school took on a
different perspective
I felt that all of the years that I was away [overseas] I taught, except for once, I taught in
public schools, and really hard, hard Catholic schools. So, I thought I’d done my time…
126 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
And I had taught in the worst of the worst in Sydney, so I figured going to [a well-off
Catholic girls secondary college] was okay, because I’d done my time. I also thought well
you know I’ll do a good job there, they’re entitled to good teaching as much as anybody
else you know (Interview 2015).
Felicity, her daughter, also had teaching experience at her mother’s school. She
decided that ‘They’re great schools but I think if you are talking about the distri-
bution of resources, it’s good to be involved in the government sector’ (Interview
2015). Then mother and daughter spoke of education from a social justice view-
point. Sue shared her thoughts about educating leaders of the future and was of the
opinion that a Catholic education provided a strong social justice foundation for
young women
Well it’s difficult to justify from a social justice perspective, but I guess I can maybe squirm
around it a little bit and say that we are dealing with very able students, and you could fairly
anticipate that they would be leaders of the future, and if their formation has been shaped by
social justice, then that can affect the kinds of societies we live in. I think you can see that in
many of our leaders who’ve had a Catholic formation, that they often have a stronger sense
of social justice (Interview 2015).
Rosie (Generation 3), who was in Year 12 attending a regional Catholic sec-
ondary college at the time of the second phase of interviews, explained that they
explore ethical issues at school. She commented that the stance provided to them was
that ‘Christians are pretty against abortion and euthanasia, because they believe life
is sacred to all people’. Joanne (Generation 3) who was undertaking study at
Australian Catholic University [ACU] noted that ‘they make us do compulsory
subjects, which a lot of people don’t agree with, because if you’re studying nursing it
doesn’t really have much to do with your degree but it kind of does in a way, so one
unit was all about the common good and then another unit was about human dig-
nity’. Her mother Pauline, who is a nurse commented ‘I think that in terms of nursing
they’re very important subjects’ (Interview 2016). Joanne went onto explain
Yeah, I know but like people complained about it anyway. I do see its relevance in people’s
lives and stuff but then I can also understand why some people would be against doing
those subjects… Well it’s just an hour a week really and then you just have to write an
essay, but a lot of people don’t really agree with what we’re learning, and they see it as
really annoying. I didn’t mind it… It was just pretty much like an extension of high school
(Interview 2016).
Olivia (Generation 3), like Joanne was studying at ACU. She described
attending the university’s open day and telling her Dad, ‘ACU’s got the same
feeling’ as a secondary school. The Catholic girls secondary college she had
attended was a community to her in that it had a ‘way you feel when you’re there…
[it] has this feeling that no-one can really describe’. Yet, Oliva expressed a sense of
agency in that she was making choices about what to take and not take from her
Catholic education and upbringing. She named herself a Catholic and she would
like her children to be raised Catholic, but she will decide which aspects of
Catholicism to follow. She claimed
but you have to have the maturity to be able to pull away and say yes I have been brought
up with a religion but I’m going to take what I want from it – of course like I want to raise
my children Catholic and I’m not necessarily – I’m not saying that I’m not a religious
person at all but I don’t see my faith as going to church every Sunday and reading scripture
and knowing readings off by heart and stuff like that. I don’t see it in other parts of my life
(Interview 2016).
128 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
Sue experienced ambivalence and internal conflict was when she made the
choice to be a working mother. This meant that she would not be following in her
mother’s footsteps and being a stay at home mum. Yet, as Bjerrum Nielsen explains
intergenerational transmission is more than role-modelling. Sue’s daughter Felicity
touched on the complexity associated with socialization when she explained how
her grandmother and mother had passed on a broader notion of work: an ‘ethic of
work’.
I think we both sort of inherited mum’s and Mona’s [her grandmother’s] values of hard
work and always delivering your best to other people. But like Jane [her sister] said, ‘I don’t
think we have inherited… I wouldn’t align myself with the Church at all (Interview 2015).
In her conversation, Felicity connected the idea of work and a Catholic belief
system. She noted that religion had not been transmitted intergenerationally in the
same way as the value of hard work. Combining a Catholic upbringing with relating
to people in a workplace can be challenging. Pauline (Generation 2) offered her
perspective on how Catholic schooling did not prepare her for life in a more secular
study and work environment.
Work and Intergenerational Transmission: ‘I Really Wanted to Mother … 129
… most of the girls [I knew] went to Catholic schools so we all were at the same stage
when we went to uni[versity]. We all went through the same thing. You believed in the
Catholic system when you got out of school, but it didn’t really prepare you for life. It sort
of prepared you for life in a Catholic school, in a Catholic environment but it didn’t really
prepare you for working alongside or studying alongside people who had no beliefs. I guess
there was a few challenges along the way (Interview 1995).
Work was a new situation for Pauline. It entailed a sense of self and others in a
different way to her Catholic upbringing which had not developed in her an
awareness of people who did not hold a religious belief system. Pauline recon-
structed herself so that she could experience a world outside of the Catholic
community that she had been raised in, and by. Bjerrum Nielsen (2017) concludes
that ‘transmission may result in generational breaks and ambivalences, as well as
continuities and reproduction’ (p. 10). In this study, such transmission also involves
the passing on or not of religious knowledge that are implicated in a range of ways
in mothering practices.
Bjerrum Nielsen (2017) points out ‘generational transmission is in itself tem-
poral and so are the different ages from which the generations talk about themselves
and each other’ (p. 41). This was evident to some extent in this study when
interviewees spoke of the influence of Catholicism on their post-school life. At
different ages and stages in their life, they took on varying perspectives. French
feminist psychoanalysis Irigaray (1993) writes that ‘Indeed, a little girl’s spirituality
is not the same as an adolescent’s, nor a lover’s, nor a mother’s, nor that of a
woman of forty-five or older’ (116).
Generation 3 appear to be making choices in very determined and explicit ways
about what role religion will play or not play in their lives. Lucy (Generation 3)
commented that ‘I have always envied the comfort that people seemed to find in
religion because I didn’t find much comfort in being cynical, although that’s where
I naturally sit with it all. So, I am really open to finding a personal spiritual side,
although I don’t really think it will be within the boundaries of a religion’. Her
sister Anna, in contrast, remarked that ‘as soon as it was my choice, I dropped
religion, I’ve never really connected with it’.
In considering the question of ageing, Irigaray (1993) encourages women to free
themselves up so as to realise their own identity.
And it’s not always a matter of gaining something more but one of being capable of
something less. Feeling more free vis à vis your fears, fantasies about others, freeing
yourself from useless knowledge, possession and obligations… Growing older can help us
to do it by crossing frontiers that then leave us more free to get on with accomplishing our
identity (p. 117).
In different ways and at different life stages, the women appeared to be making
choices about how religion would influence their post-school lives.
130 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
Anne: My niece when she was asked about how she’ll look back on her
life at 90 said, ‘Well, the world will obviously be overrun by robots
by the time I get to 90’.
Patricia: I just heard recently from one of my sons, saying that – and also,
I’ve read articles along the same line – the jobs will be done by
robots. So, they won’t really need to work. I maintain they’ll need
to know how to use the robots and prepare them.
Ronnie: I think the other thing is that there are some jobs which will never
be able to be done by robots, and those jobs are generally the jobs
where you have relationships with people… in hospitals.
Patricia: In hospitals - Nursing units.
Ronnie: People need to care.
Patricia: Social service, human services…
The testimonies of interviewees were in large part consistent with the experi-
ences of women in general, especially for older generations in terms of work. That
they were Catholic was a fluid point—particularly in the most recent generation.
Understood within a wider context described in previous chapters, some aspects of
post-school pathways that young people today tread appear to be changing. The
events that usually mark the path towards adulthood are happening later in life,
including when and if young people start families, purchase homes and get full-time
stable work. But across generations, we can see that post-school pathways have
always been uneven.
Older generations sometimes expressed concerns about the working conditions
of their daughters. Peg (Generation 1), a strict Anglican who had converted to
Catholicism on getting married, commented that ‘It wasn’t like it is nowadays,
[working life] was much more interesting, you were really a valued person in those
days’. Uncertainty about job futures was expressed by a number of third-generation
interviewees. It could be argued that this anxiety may be attributable to growing
narcissism in the most recent generation or that young people have become used to
being given things or getting things they want more easily, or at least believing they
are entitled to getting things that they deserve (Smith et al., 2017). Recent studies
examining the work values and aspirations of a young people reaching adulthood in
the twenty-first century suggest both young men and women may have ‘excessive
expectations for their careers’. It is argued that some young people feel that they
deserve interesting work as well as high career achievement, as well as motivated
keenly by pecuniary and extrinsic benefits, but at the same time less willing to work
hard and compromise their values and beliefs (Kuron, Lyons, Schweitzer, & Ng,
Working Conditions and Transitions 131
2015, p. 1003, see also Chow, Galambos, & Krahn, 2017; Krahn & Galambos,
2014; Twenge, 2008, 2010; Twenge, Campbell, & Freeman, 2012). But the women
in this study did not give this impression. Instead, a more nuanced, fluid and
variegated picture emerges.
Some researchers have questioned a commonly held assumption that school to
work transitions in the twentieth century were easier to navigate and necessarily
predictable for either young men or women. Furlong and Cartmel (1997) are one
example suggesting young people of earlier generations potentially felt exactly the
same levels of risk and uncertainty as the current generation of young people. In the
Australian context, Connell, Francis, and Skilbeck (1957) highlighted the insecure
nature of the post-school transition landscape of youth in the post-World War II
decades:
The Sydney adolescent of the present day, therefore, finds himself in a situation whose
stability is suspect, and the duration is uncertain. To learn how to cope with the insecurity
of the present and with the problematic future involves him in the difficult task of learning
not only knowledge, principles of present value, but also, and probably more importantly,
the means and techniques whereby knowledge appropriate to new situations is acquired,
and principles are modified, jettisoned, or adhered to, in the light of changing circumstances
(p. 207).
The same could be said of interviewees today. Change and continuity are both
evident in equal measure. The following chapters in this book will offer a more
fine-grained close feminist analysis of how a Catholic upbringing impacts on values
and ethics, hopes and dreams of the three generations of women who participated in
this study.
Anne: … Claire, my niece, says, “I’d like to look back on my life with no
regrets. I’d like to know that I’ve accomplished at least something
in my life. It doesn’t have to be major, you know, world peace or
anything, but just to know that I’ve done the right thing, and I’ve
lived a different life. I haven’t listed my opportunities at every turn.
It’s a pretty simple wish, I think.”
Patricia: Yeah, Amen to that one.
132 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
Conclusion
Throughout this part of the book, the stories of all generations feature aspects of
continuity and discontinuity. Continuities were evident in their career pathways.
While each successive generation engaged in more study and training, many fol-
lowed their mothers, grandmothers, sisters and aunties into teaching and nursing.
Others broke new ground, studying for and undertaking new careers in law, mar-
keting and counselling. Discontinuities were also a fact of life across generations,
with the youngest experiencing, for example, to illness, just as women in their
families had previously experienced. Reflecting wider trends, the choice and timing
of life events, such as starting a family, seem to be shifting to later in life
(Woodman & Wyn, 2015). Some of the youngest interviewees explicitly described
prolonging ‘adolescence’—again reflecting wider patterns amongst women
throughout the world (Côté, 2000; Honwana, 2014). Their testimonies at times
reflect a changing experience of adulthood itself, as researchers have found else-
where (Woodman & Leccardi, 2015). What becomes evident in our stories of our
interviewees is the non-linearity of life-experiences. Instability is a stable trait
across generations.
Intergenerational transmission was seen to be a complex, nuanced and dynamic
process. Women looked back on influences on their post-school life differently at
different stages in their lives. Grand/mothering and religion were influences that
sometimes appeared intertwined and at other times shaped their lives in separate
ways. It was argued that freeing up one’s life is as much a part of the ageing process
and identity construction as the accumulation of new knowledge and gaining more.
This returns us to the metaphor of transition raised at the start of this section of
the book. While the metaphor of transition is contested drawing from constructions
of adulthood in the literature (Furlong, 2015; Padawer, 2016), the transition
metaphor can continue to have salience to incorporate this non-linearity of expe-
riences. But even beyond these conceptualisations, transitions continue to have
resonance at a common-sense level: young people continue to get older and go
through different stages of life; they persist within each of the ‘realities’ that the
women in this book ‘have to manage’ (France & Roberts, 2015, p. 219), as young
people making their way in the world. The metaphor of transition thus still has
meaning in the non-linear journeys of women from school to post-school life
(Walsh, Keary, & Gleeson, 2019).
Olivia (Generation 3) when asked ‘what would have happened for her by the
time she was her grandmother’s age of 85’, in a confident way traversed a number
of ideological positionings that shape, and are shaped by, young women. Olivia
imprinted the future with life choices that have personal and relational meanings
when she replied
I’ve had conversations with friends like especially the whole being a young independent
woman, feminism and all that kind of stuff. I’ve said to some people ‘I don’t have an issue
saying that I see my life as white picket fence with the husband and kids’. And that doesn’t
mean that I’m going back on my rights or anything like that. I still want to have a career and
Conclusion 133
still want to do great things, but I think given the women that I’ve been surrounded by
growing up I think being a mother could be the greatest thing that I could achieve by the
time I get to 85. I hope that I’m a mother and an aunty and a grandmother just like these
three. We’ll see what happens (Interview 2016).
Acknowledgements The authors are grateful to Joanne Gleeson for her research assistance in
developing the historical overview of this discussion.
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134 7 Life After Study and Training: ‘Building Something’
Abstract The post-school pathways of the women in this study were fluid and
non-linear. The lives of many interviewees of Generations 2 and 3 featured geo-
graphic mobility. Stories of mobility were diverse. In particular, relational, gen-
dered, spatial and temporal influences were part of the journeys of the interviewees.
Women moved along pathways from home and back again and in some instances,
multiple times. Aspirations for travel, it was suggested by one interviewee, stem-
med from volunteering experienced at Catholic schools. Family histories of travel
influenced an ambition to travel. Mobility occurred for a range of purposes ranging
from exploration of other countries, for purposes of work to fulfilling spiritual
endeavours. These global experiences provided valuable employment opportunities
and financial security, and were perceived as desirable; at times, becoming part of
the lifestyle of interviewees.
Introduction
Focusing on transitions from school to further study, training, work and family in
the previous section centred on a particular kind of mobility; however, the testi-
monies of interviewees paint a more subtle and vivid picture of the role of travel in
their lives. From the inward journeys of belief and self, to geographical travel across
country and overseas, this richer picture of mobility is multidimensional and pro-
vides insight into the hopes and dreams of some interviewees for the future, which
as discussed in this section of the book are expressed in fractious and sometimes
tenuous ways. They also depict journeys far from home and family and then back
again, with the family providing a kind of centre of gravity.
Throughout this chapter, certain relational, gendered, spatial and temporal
influences play a part in the journeys of our interviewees. Families, friends and a
community to belong to play a powerful role relationally in direct and indirect ways
in spatial aspects of the women’s life journeys. In youth studies, a spatial lens
enables ‘understanding youth as a collection of social processes that unfolds in
place, within the social production of space, and as part of networks of material and
symbolic relationships stretched across the mutable territories of a globalizing
© Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd. 2020 137
A. Keary, Education, Work and Catholic Life,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-13-8989-4_8
138 8 Mobility, Travel and Work: ‘I’d Like to Live Overseas Again’
world’ (Farrugia et al., 2017, p. 211). For example, women’s experiences of travel
highlight the importance of spaces to their experiences of moving along pathways
away from and back to home (and for some, away again). Aspirations for travel and
mobility have been closely connected by some young people to the transition to
adulthood (Robertson, Harris & Baldassar, 2018). Such a lens enables under-
standing of young people’s experiences in relation to broader historical, political
and economic forces that shape opportunities for and challenges to them in par-
ticular places and times (Woodman & Wyn, 2013)—forces which we have traced
alongside the testimonies of interviewees (both younger and older) throughout this
part of the book. Relational and spatial influences interact with each other. As we
shall see, interviewees draw on family histories and resources to pursue travel for a
variety of reasons, ranging from exploration to work opportunities and spiritual
endeavours. Sometimes the influences create tensions where ‘young people are torn
between competing forces in relation to notions of home, tradition and fixedness on
one hand and of mobility, escape and transformation on the other’ (Thomson &
Taylor, 2005, p. 327).
Reporting on a 1990s longitudinal UK youth transition study, Henderson,
Holland, McGrellis, Shapre, and Thomson (2013) employ a broad definition of
mobility including transport to access the community safely, travel, moving away
from home to attend university and migrating for work. An important point they
make is that ‘The part that mobility plays in narratives of transition is historically
and culturally specific, with the character of youth transitions currently shifting in
response to extended dependency and the expansion of higher education’ (p. 111).
Travel featured prominently amongst Generation 2 and 3 interviewees. For
Generation 3, some travelled with their families and individually for the experience
of living in other places. Many participants expressed a love of or desire for travel
—both at a national and international level. For at least one interviewee, travelling
was a lifestyle choice.
Anne: All my nieces talked about their desire to travel. It was really
important in their lives. And for our generation, post school, that
was something that we all did, was go off overseas to Europe and
travel. And in your later years you’ve travelled as well, Aunty
Patricia?
Patricia: Yes, that was to visit family. Then I’d fit in another tour as well.
I would never have gone otherwise.
Anne: What about the trip to Israel?
Patricia: Yes, that was interesting
Anne: Was that religious?
Introduction 139
The concept of mobility is part of young people’s notion of the self as they tran-
sition to adulthood (Henderson et al., 2013). Gap years open up opportunities for
forms of mobility that take on multiple dimensions across different points of time.
Gap years post school were more prominent in the most recent generation inter-
viewed, reflecting a contemporary trend. Yet the gap year was apparent in the life
course for some of Generation 2 interviewees. It is suggested they named and
undertook the gap year in a slightly different way from Generation 3 and for
Generation 1 it was not usual. A case study of the travel experiences of a
Generation 1 woman will be a focus of the next chapter.
In 1974, about four per cent of Australian students deferred tertiary studies,
increasing to 10% by 1999–2000. Just under one in four undertook a gap year in
2009–10 (Lumsden & Stanwick, 2012). Like increasing numbers of Australians,
Sally’s daughter Hannah took a gap year post Year 12. Some interviewees for this
book took multiple gap years between different segments of post-school study. The
idea of a gap year broadened in the interviews with a gap year taking in travel and
work undertaken during and post-university education. Bernadette’s daughter
Sarah, for example, described her life post school. ‘After finishing school, I took a
gap year and worked for a year and came home and worked for a resort in Broome.
Then I went to university and did my first degree, a Bachelor of Arts. Then I’ve had
a few gap years since then and now I’m doing a Master’s in Applied Linguistics’
(Interview 2016). Eleanor, Cath’s daughter, took a gap year at the age of 26. She
was interviewed with her mother and grandmother via skype:
I’m currently in Mexico in the last seven weeks of a seven-month trip between Mexico,
Central America including North America. I quit my job last year to come on this trip
which am really pleased I did. But I am looking forward to coming home and getting my
career started again and seeing my friends and my family and having my everyday life in
Melbourne (Interview 2016).
Travel for Generation 3 interviewees provided them with time and a space to
consider the next pathway to take in life. Lucy (Generation 3), Cath’s daughter,
140 8 Mobility, Travel and Work: ‘I’d Like to Live Overseas Again’
talked about the various career options she considered post the completion of her
undergraduate Arts degree. Lucy in her early 20s was pulled by different forces
including choice-making about further study, employment to finance her living
expenses and a desire to travel. She described this time in her life:
Five years ago, I was doing my [undergraduate degree] in Arts at Melbourne university.
Then when I finished that in 2012, I enrolled very briefly in a midwifery degree, which I
very quickly realised was not at all what I should be doing. I had moved out [from home]
by then, so I needed to get a full-time job to pay the rent. I worked in reception and then
marketing for a little over a year. Then I travelled for six months. I spent three months in
Europe and three months in Asia. Most of that was by myself. Then, I came back and
enrolled in my current degree, which is a Graduate Diploma in Counselling (Interview
2016).
Anna, her younger sister, talked about her general indecisiveness about what to
do after university. However, travel and experiencing life overseas was one aspect
of her life she was certain about:
Yeah. I’m getting to the end of my university degree and then after that, I’m not really sure
where I want to go. I know I want to travel and probably live overseas for at least a couple
of years, just to see the other side of the world I suppose. But apart from that, I don’t really
know what direction I’m going to be going in (Interview 2016).
In the 1970s, the term ‘gap year’ was not used by Generation 2 women, yet the idea
was prominent nevertheless. Generation 2 interviewees tended to take time off for
travel after a short period of full-time work. Working provided them with time to
save for their travels. In 1995, Kate, Lucy’s mother, mentioned: ‘After I’d done my
training for two years, I then more or less spent the next six or seven years trav-
elling off and on’ (Interview 1995). Kate and Anne, co-author, travelled together
with another school friend Bern during the early 1980s. Kate and Anne went their
separate ways for 10 months. Anne travelled to Egypt and worked in Israel on a
kibbutz and in hospitality. Kate was employed as a nanny for an Italian family
living in La Spezia, Italy.
Kate in her travel diary on July 1, 1983 (see Image 8.1) described meeting up
with Anne ten months later on the streets of La Spezia, ‘with her pack on her back
looking like a real traveller’. She continued, ‘spent all day just talking, then at 5 she
collapsed. She’d spent six days travelling [from Eilat in Israel] without sleeping on
a bed. Didn’t wake her for dinner’.
Anne’s journal entry on 3 July 1983 (see Image 8.2) commented on the
dysentery she had experienced in Asia earlier in their travels, an idyllic day’s sailing
with Kate and her Italian friend around the islands near La Spezia and the relaxed
time she had catching up with Kate (see Image 8.3).
When writing about being excluded from her mother’s diary, Holmes (1995)
explains how she sought solace in other women’s diaries to find out ‘how did
women make sense of their lives’? What were the metaphors and meanings women
constructed through which to articulate their daily experience?’ (p. ix). Having
examined women’s early twentieth-century diaries, Holmes expresses surprise that
‘many women gave no space at all to their emotional lives, and disclosed no secrets
about their private thoughts, feelings or actions. Rather, they filled their pages with
insistent detail…’ (p. ix). Anne’s journals of her 1983–84 journeys described the
day-to-day happenings and routines associated with moving from place to place,
finding accommodation, experiencing new cuisines and the people met along the
way rather than a deeply reflexive style of writing. Yet, Kate and Anne’s journal
entries provide insight into how they gave meaning to their lives and shaped their
identities as young adult women. In accordance with Holmes sentiments ‘the very
fabric of the text, in the renderings of “dailiness”’ (p. x) the journal extracts
articulate a supportive and caring friendship that endures to this day.
Other Versions of the Gap Year: ‘The Very Fabric of the Text’ 143
Snee (2016) explores whether travel during gap years broadens the mind criti-
cally. She discusses the intersection of education, employment and the consumption
of leisure travel suggesting that class shapes the cultural values that are seen to be
important from such travel experiences. The gap years of these young women
reflected a middle-class situation imbued with a Catholic upbringing. It is difficult
to discern from this small-scale study what structural factors influenced the cultural
values young women gained from their travels. However, notions of friendship and
expanding personal learning were significant for these young women during their
travels.
Religion and more left-wing humanist ideologies came together at university for
Margaret. As a consequence, she felt tension with the Catholic belief system she
had been raised in and debates ensued with her mother. Patricia, her mother, in
1995 spoke of how Margaret’s changing views on religion impacted on their
relationship. Patricia’s view was that what the Pentecostal Church and the Catholic
Church espoused were much ‘the same thing’.
Because Margaret goes to the Pentecostal church and now, she is developing a relationship
in the Pentecostal church, I come in and question her all the way on it. And what was
different and what did they say and what were we saying. And basically, they were saying
the same thing (Interview 1995).
Catholic missions often focused on the provision of health care and education.
Girola (2003) argues that paternalistic attitudes of Catholic missionaries towards
Indigenous peoples were still evident into the 1970s and 1980s. Yet, during the
1980s exemplary bilingual education programs were operating in a number of
Northern Territory Catholic schools. During this period, tension existed between
the traditional role of the Catholic missions and the implementation of model
bilingual programs that prioritised English language and numeracy skills and taught
vernacular literacy. The importance of Indigenous language learning was recog-
nised. Bilingual education had strong community support and guidance from spe-
cialist staff such as teacher linguists and community teachers. Teachers and
researchers in these schools provided good education to remote Indigenous stu-
dents, so they had meaningful opportunities later in their lives (Devlin, 2011).
These tensions and contradictions were part of the challenge that Anne experi-
enced when teaching at Port Keats.
Letters to and from home were the main means of communication in the 1980s
when these young women travelled and worked overseas and in remote parts of
Australia. Image 8.4 is an excerpt from a letter Anne, the co-author, wrote home to
146 8 Mobility, Travel and Work: ‘I’d Like to Live Overseas Again’
her family soon after starting a position as preschool teacher at St. Therese’s school,
Bathurst Island. She had been travelling overseas for the 2 yrs prior and was now
returning to her teaching career at the age of 24. Bathurst Island is one of the Tiwi
Islands in the Northern Territory off the northern coast of Australia. (The school is
now known as Murrupurtiyanwu Catholic primary school).
Stanley (2016) writes that
Letters and correspondences are everyday documents of life strongly characterised by
seriality and succession – their ‘one thing after another’ temporal aspect – and consequently
they provide, not only a humanly rich data-source, but one particularly suitable for
investigating changes over time (p. 60).
This excerpt from Anne’s letter home is a source for tracing and exploring the
unfolding processes of change on a number of levels. What marked this period in
Indigenous education was the review of bilingual education. The letter points to the
importance of teachers in this era being familiar with Indigenous schools’ policies.
Anne wrote, ‘this week we had meetings every week to discuss school policies’.
Teaching was not just about being a preschool teacher but rather encompassed
Missionary Work: ‘I’ve Had a Bit of a Look at … 147
Life after school for Generations 2 and 3 reflected some familiar continuities. Yet,
greater fluidity and mobility with working life became more prominent. Sue
(Generation 2) ‘taught in places all around the country, and then when we came
back to Melbourne, I did a Master’s Degree and worked at [a private Catholic girl’s
148 8 Mobility, Travel and Work: ‘I’d Like to Live Overseas Again’
secondary college] for 18 yrs’ until her recent retirement. Sue’s daughter, Jane, had
also travelled with her work. After completing her Articles at Melbourne
University, Jane moved to London for five years before returning to Australia.
Marie’s youngest daughter (of five), Christina (Generation 3), was 22 in 2016.
After high school, she travelled and worked in different communities along the east
coast of Australia and America before returning to Sydney ‘to build something and
working on boats and possibly looking to do some study…’ She also moved back
to Sydney because her mother Marie (Generation 2) had cancer. After caring for her
mother, she got ‘in the car again and drove around and worked at lots of different
festivals and, yeah, lived nomadically and bounced around’. Having taken a number
of gap years, Christina’s cousin Sarah also worked overseas for two years as an
English language teacher in Vietnam for 18 months, prior to which she travelled
throughout Southeast Asia. Eleanor (Generation 3) commented on how she ‘quit
my job last year to come on this trip [overseas] which I am really pleased I did.
But I am looking forward to coming home … Well hopefully, I’ll get a job in the
pretty near future. I hope to have a successful career’ (Interview 2016).
Sometimes, life plans were interrupted. Sarah’s cousin, Melissa was living in
Rome in 2016. She gained a double degree in Medical Science/International Studies
at a university in Sydney. Melissa was married in 2010 and worked in Italy as an
English teacher privately in language centres. Her career was interrupted when she
was struck terminally with cancer. She had second thoughts about her study
pathway and
wished that I had picked a degree that was more specific. So that you do your degree, you
come out and you have a job, but that’s just because of the way the world is today. It’s so
hard to get work (Interview 2016).
Joanne (Generation 3), who was completing her tertiary study was considering
combining travel and work post study, ‘I don’t know, it’s kind of soon for me at this
stage, which is a bit scary. I don’t know I just kind of want to find a job that I’m
actually happy with. I’m thinking of teaching English overseas, I think that would
be kind of cool, and it would mean I could travel and work at the same time
(Interview 2016).
Loreto (Generation 2), provided a longitudinal and more internationalist picture
of work-related travel movements
Twenty years ago, I was living and teaching in Melbourne. I was teaching in a Catholic
primary school. In 1997, I moved to Jakarta and was teaching. So, I made that shift at that
time to international teaching. I spent the next six years in Jakarta and then I returned to
Melbourne for a year where I did my second Master’s degree, which was a Master of
Education TESOL. After that year I returned to Jakarta for two more years. Then I moved
to Beijing where I worked at an International school for six years. Now, I’m in Prague
working at an International School. I’ve been here three-and-a-half years, so this is my
fourth year working in Prague. So, that’s been a big shift for me from being based in
Melbourne, living in Melbourne and working there to now, living and working overseas
and being an expat[riate] (Interview 2016).
The Fluidity of Life After School: ‘Opened Up My World’ 149
Loreto felt positive about the mobile nature of her international employment and
found a sense of belonging in the expatriate community. She continued
Initially, I looked to go overseas because I was a little bit bored with what I was doing,
teaching in Australia and I had done my first MEd and it was like okay what do I do next.
Then, a big part of it was financial thinking, ‘right if I move overseas, I can save a house
deposit and that would make the difference’. Because as a single person living in
Melbourne on a teacher’s salary and paying rent, saving for a house deposit didn’t seem
feasible. But the move definitely brought up a completely different set of opportunities for
me and I realized that there was this wealth of International schools that I could work.
I really loved that. I loved the people, the variety of people I worked with and the families
and the students at the schools from around the world, because you learn so much from
working and spending time with people from different cultures and different experiences.
So, that’s been a big positive in my life. Also, I did save the house deposit, so I have a
house to come back to one day. So, it ticked that box. But it definitely opened up my world
in a much broader sense (Interview 2016).
Experiences of mobility are diverse ranging from travel for leisure, employment
prospects, for broadening one’s horizons, accompanying family for work oppor-
tunities, religious reasons and so on. For some women, travel was a matter of
moving to maintain social continuity intergenerationally. For Loreto, it was a way
of establishing financial independence and security as a single woman. Establishing
a new home base, whether permanent or temporary, is part of the travel experience.
Becoming a member of a community and having a sense of belonging is an
important aspect of travelling for these women.
Conclusion
This questioning, scepticism about travel and mobility did not come through in
the interviews except perhaps in the undertones of the missionary role and the
questioning of the histories and ideologies of the missions. Travel, on the whole,
was seen in optimistic, broadening of the self and positive terms. Families provided
a centre of gravity to which interviewees returned, sometimes by choice and
150 8 Mobility, Travel and Work: ‘I’d Like to Live Overseas Again’
References
Abstract This chapter provides a glimpse of the hopes and dreams of four women
as they are positioned within, and by, historical moments, spiritual and religious
agendas and visions for the future. Throughout the chapter, parallels are drawn
between the life experiences and foresight of women of an older and younger
generation. The interview data was, at times, unanticipated and surprising as the
women spoke of their futures in determined, fractious and sometimes tenuous ways.
Young adulthood in the early twenty-first century is contingent and conditional but
the question can be asked, is it any more so than for previous generations?
Similarities and parallels were uncovered in relation to the hopes and spiritual ideals
of the younger and older generations represented in this chapter. Importantly, it is
discovered in relation to parallel stories were, and continue to be played out, in
different ways and under varying social, cultural and religious conditions within and
across the generations.
Ronnie: I have to say that I think that Mona would be very proud of us.
Who would believe that at age four, when we used to go in your
family’s pink Holden car …who would have ever dreamed that
we’d be talking about their lives in a way that’s trying to really
expose their everyday life …. would they think it was too showy?
Would they think we’re drawing too much attention to ourselves?
Anne: And to them?
Ronnie: Yes, and by default, them.
Anne: Yes, and I think they’d think we’re dreaming up a storm. I think
Catholicism does come into it because their lives and their dreams
The auto/biographical approach in this chapter, as with the analysis in this book,
opens up a space to preview a holistic and vibrant sense of women’s lives,
including gaining insights ‘[into] them as part of a historical ‘generation’ or more in
timeless terms’ (Henderson et al., 2007, p. 14). Hopes and dreams for these women
ranged from practical discussions about housing, to dreams of travel and living
overseas, to a relational sense of self that centred around families, grand/children
and friends to sociopolitical desires for more ethical and principled communities
and religious and political systems. Conversations revolved around ‘the extraor-
dinary’ such as travel and cosmic principles, to the mundane occurrences of ev-
eryday life “that give the extraordinary meaning (Allat 2000)” (Thomson & Taylor,
2005, p. 337).
The following case histories illuminate the familial and spiritual practices
associated with the notion of ‘hope’, as it is played out under varying circum-
stances. ‘Hope’ is understood as an idea that is socially constructed and that takes
on different forms, different meanings and levels of significance within and across
different groups and communities (Bishop & Willis, 2014). Discussion of ‘hopes
and dreams’ by the women represented in this chapter was sometimes in response to
a direct question asked by Anne, one of the co-authors, while at other times the
notion seeped in and out of the familial conversations. The idea is not to suggest
that ‘hope’ is manifested in the same way for all women experiencing similar
circumstances, but rather to explore fluid feelings and practices associated with
hope.
‘Idealistic’ Hopes
Different photos of sisters introduce our exploration of hope—in this case, youthful,
idealistic hope. A discussion of four women’s hopes and dreams follows an enquiry
into what these photos might convey.
A casual photo of Generation 3 sisters, Christina and Melissa (see Image 9.1),
this composition has unintended classical resonances. The lines of the arrangement
form a triangle—the wide, upturned brim of Melissa’s hat, the clustered roses in the
bottom third of the frame. Above the girls’ heads between the wall and shrubbery
sits an inverted triangle of white sky. The sisters happily intertwine while remaining
‘Idealistic’ Hopes 153
distinct—Christina’s blonde curls and blue and white nautical stripes, Melissa’s red
and white floral-patterned dress with reverse coloured earrings. Their broad, white
smiles suggest they are sisters, sisters who are closely and easily affectionate with
each other.
Meanwhile, the black and white picnic photo of Inez and Patricia (see
Image 9.2) sees the two young Generation 1 ladies eating, drinking and chatting in
the middle of the bush. Again, reminiscent of classical art (Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur
L’herbe), the two friends sit prettily among the grasses and trees, dressed in elegant
sundresses and sandals. Their naturalness lies in sharp contrast to the dowdy fellow
picnickers in the background gnawing on sandwiches—women in formal hats and a
man in a full suit. The three young women again form a triangular composition as
Inez and Patricia’s legs fan out to the bottom corners of the photograph. Lipstick
and necklaces adorn the women and the unselfconscious smiles of the two highlight
the simple pleasure of the summer occasion.
Above all, the photographs radiate youthful hope. In Melissa and Christina’s
case, it is the riotous red of the roses in full bloom, the dappled sunlight and dense
foliage, the artlessly posed hug. Patricia and Inez appear to almost be part of the
forest in their savouring of the outdoors. The two captured moments in these
women’s younger lives linger in time, suggesting a view to ‘envisaging what is not
yet there’ (Cuzzocrea & Mandich, 2015).
These photos symbolise case histories that partially and contingently encapsulate
the tenuous nature of the hopes and dreams of two sets of sisters. Cuzzocrea and
Mandich (2015) articulate the ability to capture a story about what is not yet there as
‘imagination’. It involves being able to ‘project the self into the future, to fore-
shadow possible paths that are considered to be worthy for oneself and for others,
i.e. are socially recognised as valuable’ (p. 7). In the first case history, Melissa
(32 years of age, the eldest of five children, married and living in Rome with her
Italian husband) and her sister Christina (22 years of age and the youngest of the
five children) tell stories about how they think they might look back on their lives at
the age of 90.
Anne: In the interviews I asked the younger generations about how they
would look back on their lives… I explained that my mum Marie
would have turned 90 in 2016. I asked, ‘How will you look back on
your life at 90’?
Ronnie: I asked my nieces as well.
Anne: It’s about thinking how their future will be and how they look back
on their lives…
Understandings are gained of how these two young women imagine their futures
in relation to maternal family histories and the educational and religious opportu-
nities that were afforded to them. McLeod (2015) suggests that too often in youth
studies scholarship “the salience of interpersonal and familial relations” (p. 315) is
obscured. In this snapshot, the two sisters wrestle with everyday ‘critical moments’
which have enveloped their young lives. Questions to come under consideration
‘Idealistic’ Hopes 155
are, ‘How are their values and belief systems shaped by the way previous gener-
ations have lived their lives?’ ‘How do their perceptions of a life, lived now and
into the future, converge and diverge from their maternal forebears?’
The notion of ‘critical moments’ is explored as a conceptual tool to determine
how these two sisters view their imagined futures. Henderson et al. (2007) contend
that
a focus on critical moments draws attention to the significance of biography and the
configuration of timing, resources and resourcefulness. The longitudinal approach enables
us to understand how things that take place in a young person’s personal life (for example a
bereavement) can have consequences that go beyond that sphere (pp. 20–21).
In this instance, sisters discuss their lives in the present and as they imagine them
in the future. Henderson et al. (2007), in their United Kingdom study, discuss the
‘moral landscapes’ that young people are susceptible, to including circumstances
out of their control such as illness. These researchers contend that some ‘critical
moments’ in young peoples’ lives are more far-reaching than others. This was the
case for Melissa who passed away in September of 2017 in her home in Rome, Italy
with her mother, brother and husband close by. Melissa was interviewed by me, her
aunt the previous year. Christina, her younger sister and I were at my home in
Sandringham, Melbourne, Australia and Skyped with Melissa who was living in
Rome. The conversation was uplifting and emotional, inspiring and touching. When
asked ‘how do you think you will view your life when you’re 90? What will have
happened for you?’, Melissa replied ‘Obviously, this is a very idealist question,
because I’m only going to say the idealistic thing’.
The notion of ‘idealism’ was tempered by the cancer treatment Melissa was
receiving at the time of the interview. She underwent surgery in mid-2015 to
remove a sarcoma from her thigh. Chemotherapy treatment ensued and was
ongoing. Another ‘critical moment’ in the lives of these two sisters was when their
mother, who lived in New South Wales, Australia, was diagnosed with cervical
cancer just prior to Melissa’s diagnosis. Christina spoke briefly of the impact her
mother’s diagnosis had on her life: ‘then I moved back to Sydney because my mum
was sick and had cervical cancer, so I spent quite a few months just managing and
dealing with that…’
Christina’s lifestyle was impacted upon by her mother’s diagnosis. Her focus
became ‘managing and dealing’ with her mother’s illness. Her circumstances
became tied up with the choice she made to help her mother in this time of need.
Christina took on a caring role just as her mother had done for her earlier in her life.
The emotional toll it took on her is reflected in her words. During this period of
time, Christina’s every day was centred on the immediate needs of her mother, but
this is not to say that she did not dream of future possibilities.
These critical moments of illness were key to how Melissa and Christina came to
understand their ‘hopes’ for the futures and their ‘narratives of self’. When Melissa
projected her hopes for her imagined future, these critical moments faded into
156 9 Hopes and Dreams: Capturing What Is Not Yet There
obscurity while Christina buoyantly commented on the prospect that by the time,
she is 90 ‘hopefully illness and disease is something that’s been managed…’. The
question about reflecting on their lives at 90 provided Melissa with a space to hope
for a future that was full of relationships, travel and personal as well as social
projects. Christina echoed her sister’s sanguinity and optimism and discussed her
hopes for a more ethical and politically stable global climate.
Familial Relationships
Both Melissa and Christina hoped that having a family would be part of their future
lives. Melissa spoke of the enjoyment of potentially being able to ‘spoil grandkids’
and more so of raising her own children. Christina expressed her desire to become a
mother and hoped that her children would have access to the resources required to
‘do what they wanted’:
I hope when I’m 90 that I’ve had kids… As far as family goes that I’ve enjoyed being a
grandma. I’d like that, like really spoiling my grandkids. Probably more so than bringing up
my own kids … (Melissa)
And have had a family definitely. I’d like to look back and see that I have kids who have
grown up and done what they wanted; have been able to do what they wanted… and that at
90, if I am still alive at 90, I have grandkids and family (Christina)
Melissa and Christina, although unaware of it, reflected the love of their great
grandmother—Mary had for her grandchildren including Melissa’s mother. My
mother, their grandmother—Marie—in a 1995 interview related the story of her
mother Mary:
When I was first married and having a family Gran used to come all the way from East Kew
and give me a hand once a week. She always had some lollies and jelly-beans or jubes for
each of the children and they’d wait for her at the gate. She was a lovely grandmother (1995
Interview).
Community
Leccardi (2005) argues that young people face increasing uncertainty in their lives
and there is an associated weariness about discussing the future; a future that infers
a solitary journey towards adulthood (Cuzzocrea & Mandich, 2015). Some young
people seek out alternative imagined futures to the ones projected for them by their
families, schooling and communities; ‘this imagined future condenses needs that
would otherwise remain unexpressed’ (Cuzzocrea & Mandich, 2015, p. 11).
Melissa in her interview articulated her ideal future, one that transcended the
medical condition and treatment constraints which enveloped her life. Her imagined
future was uncertain at the time of the interview and it is difficult to know whether
or not it was the one projected to her by family, schooling and her community. No
matter what her future held, Melissa expressed her ambitions for a more balanced
economic, environmental and political global life context. She was concerned about
the broader sociopolitical context and people’s suffering:
I don’t know. 90, yeah. I hope that the world on a global level finds a bit more of a balance
economically, environmentally and politically. I hope that it reaches some good conclu-
sions. I’d hate that if I was 90 and it’s still so chaotic and there’s still so many wars for such
stupid reasons. And people suffering for such greedy reasons.
Christina, similar to Melissa in her notion of the ideal, spoke of not only her own
individual hopes and desires but more so collective beliefs about the way gov-
ernments function and enact policies:
I would hope to look back and have achieved something and to have had an impact on the
world, [that] would be nice; but even just on a community of people …or within a
group. I would like to have done something which really has made a change in some sense
or has assisted a change or a transition for the world or a group of people. …
Christina did not only want to explore the world but rather to modify it. In an
agential way, she was expressing a desire to make a change; ‘have had an impact on
the world’. Mobility is an important aspect of transitioning into young adulthood.
Cuzzocrea and Mandich (2015) note that ‘…becoming an adult does not include
taking an active part in the world; it instead implies discovering a place for oneself
in that given world’ (p. 11). Yet, Christina seems to want to do both; that is find a
place for herself in the world alongside moving her community forward. She
continued:
And with the world, I guess, very similar to what Mel said. Balance in the world. I would
hope to look back and see that a big change has happened and that we are moving forward.
At 90, the world is at a place where it’s being supported, like the environment and the
world. The whole collective of it all is being supported … the government and the choices
in a political sense have to move forward. But it all works in balance with people and
mankind and, yeah, definitely the world. So, I would like to see that a global consciousness
has come into play. That’s a really big, really big thing for me.
Cuzzocrea and Mandich (2015) talk of ‘mobility’ and young people and contend
that one dimension of being mobile is
158 9 Hopes and Dreams: Capturing What Is Not Yet There
to explore one’s predispositions, to understand what one really wants to become in life…
By imagining a possible future, young people express identity and subjectivity, and this
expression helps them to discursively position themselves within society (p. 12).
Both Melissa and Christina positioned their futures within a society that they
hoped would have progressed economically, environmentally and politically. In
their conversation, they searched for sociopolitical spaces that offered alternative
possibilities to those currently available. In this way “mobility opens up new
frontiers for the self” (p. 12). Melissa and Christina appeared to undertake travel to
explore places and happenings alongside the spiritual dimension they took with
them and wanted to explore.
In a similar way to Thomson and Taylor’s (2005) findings about young people’s
transition to adulthood, in their conversations, Melissa and Christina were divided
between competing desires for family, tradition and stability in contrast to notions
of escape and transformation. These competing forces Christina explained as, ‘After
high school, I’ve travelled around working on different communities and just
learning about different things and travelling. And now I am in one place, back in
Sydney, trying to build something and working on boats and possibly looking to do
some study…’ Meanwhile, Melissa hoped when looking back on her life ‘That I’ve
travelled a bit more. I mean, I’ve travelled a lot, but I’d like to always be able to
travel. I really love that’. Melissa’s desire to undertake further travel was mitigated
by the constraints of her illness and treatment plan, but this prospect was of utmost
importance to her.
Notions of mobility were a focus of these two sisters’ hopes for the future. Their
status as travellers in the past, present and imagined future was vital ‘both to the
material and cultural characteristic of the environments in which they live and to
particularities of family, culture and individual social location and agency’
(Thomson & Taylor, 2005, p. 328). These two sisters reflected agential and familial
notions of the self that encapsulated an idea of mobility that was about finding
oneself, as well as changing the world the self was to occupy.
Patricia: My sister Inez was like someone ahead of her time and her idea
was to experience all these various countries and their lifestyles.
Whereas that was not of so much interest to me at that time and
probably not to the same extent ever.
Ronnie: What do you think the difference was Patricia, for Inez?
Patricia: She was not so much of a homebody as I was. Her life was more
into experiencing. Maybe that was because she had spent many
years being sick with asthma as a child. Maybe she got that feeling,
while I’m well will endeavour to…
Ronnie: eat life.
Community 159
Patricia: But it’s basically what happens in life that leads you in one
direction or another.
Ronnie: Did she have a family Patricia?
Patricia: No, and so she looked elsewhere for experience.
Anne: And at that time, it would that have been unusual for a woman?
Patricia: Yes
Ronnie: That’s so interesting. Then you’ve got the next generation whose
kids are travelling. That was the thing in reading a couple of the
transcripts from Anne’s sisters and nieces. The travel thing was a
really…
Patricia: big thing. Well mind you, we could not travel growing up. It
wasn’t available. The war was on. You could not travel. Later on,
Inez didn’t have the same responsibilities, she was not married. She
was able to go on one of the ships in the 50s that came across with
the migrants from Europe and travel back to Italy. It took six weeks
or something to get across to Italy and it was her intention to spend
time touring for a couple of years.
Ronnie: And did she write to you?
Patricia: Well, she wrote to my mother all the time.
Melissa and Inez’s lives were lived in very different eras and took on different
dimensions. Melissa was married for ten years while Inez remained a single
woman. Yet, in other ways, their lives drew parallels. Both lives were full and
active and moulded by their deep spiritual beliefs (although of distinctive leanings).
They both suffered severe asthma throughout their lives. Melissa, when studying in
Sydney in her early 20s, received a Medical Science/International studies double
degree. However, during her married life in Rome, like Inez, she worked as a
kindergarten teacher. Sadly, both women died at the age of 33; 54 years apart.
Reflected in Patricia conversation is the strong and lasting impact her sister
Inez’s early death had on her life. She spoke of how her sister’s death was a ‘critical
moment’ in her life and ‘quite dramatic’:
I felt strongly the death of Inez because we had grown up closely together. When we left
school, we joined dramatic groups and social activities and we’d always do these activities
together. We played piano and violin together. We were always together. And so, the death
of her was quite dramatic in my life, I would have been 30 years of age and she was 33
(1995 interview).
The death of her sister Inez at the age of 33 had consequences for how Patricia
viewed life. The emotional and psychological pain left her questioning her current
belief system and shaped the way she viewed and experienced her future. Patricia
turned to the Catholic faith she had been raised into find meaning in the enigma of
illness and death. The death of Inez, her older sister’s breakdown 18 months later
and a year later her husband’s sudden death, leaving her to raise six children on her
160 9 Hopes and Dreams: Capturing What Is Not Yet There
own had ‘a very strong impact on my life’. At the age of 30, these three events
occurred within a time frame of 3 years and dramatically affected her sense of self.
She sought solace in her spirituality, at an individual as well as collective level.
Patricia described how she responded to these overwhelming life events:
… through these three events I gained a much deeper spirituality. I started to look at my
relationship with God from an adult point of [view]. I read the bible from cover to cover.
I went to various groups to take on a change from where I was at (1995 Interview).
In 1995, Marie, Anne, the co-author’s mother and Patricia’s sister, spoke of the
faith that she believed her daughters still held, ‘You and your younger sister fell
away, but I believe you still have the faith if only you would recognise it’.
Henderson et al. (2007) suggest that religious identification and belonging ‘sit
alongside the widely documented trend towards secularisation’ (p. 100). Religious
belonging is about an investment in the self and can provide support during times of
uncertainty. This idea was exemplified in Patricia’s questioning of her ‘relationship
with God’ during a critical period in her life. She claimed that she found solace in a
God which she now viewed from her adult perspective.
Anne’s mother, like her younger sister Patricia, drew on her faith in times of
trouble including when she experienced a breakdown in her late 30s. She explained,
‘Because it really is something you can hold onto if you’re very depressed. You
know God’s there, and our Lady and the Saints will look after you. It’s something
you can hang onto’.
Melissa and Christina, two generations onward, also discussed forms of spiri-
tuality that sustained them. Melissa related, ‘I know that I’ll always be doing this
meditation … so I’d like to always be doing that’. She went on to explain that her
meditation practice was linked to a spiritual organisation that exercises a form of
self-realisation:
I grew up with meditation… maybe up until I was ten, we [the family] were doing it. I’ve
always continued with it. I had a break in high school… There came a moment where I said
I really need it. I really find it helps me…. And it is a main priority in my life. I meditate
every day. I do many projects. We’re doing a lot of projects of relaxation in schools in
Rome - inner peace day or various projects with meditation. Mainly as a way to really find
that peace within and be able to keep a connection with yourself, with what goes on around.
Even though Melissa felt exhaustion and fatigue with the cancer treatment she
was undergoing, she found the energy for daily mediation and school relaxation
projects. For her, it was about finding peace within and staying connected to not
only herself, but to the world around her. In spite of ill health, like her forebears, a
deep sense of spirituality supported her.
Christina explained how not only Melissa but her ‘mother’s side who are
Catholics’ provided her with an understanding and ‘a sense of spirituality and
faith…[it’s] really big in my life’. Christina spoke of finding her spirituality through
a ‘sense of self’, and located religious ideals with realms of ethics and morality:
In a sense spirituality and faith is really big in my life. What exactly I’m not so sure of.
Growing up with [a form of religious meditation] …when I was about ten until I was about
fifteen Melissa brought it back into focus in my life. It was a really great age to have it. But,
Community 161
of course, then there was exploration of the self and trying to find where and what I believe
… I’ve always had a really cosmical understanding of [the] spirit. Also, then there is having
family on my mother’s side who are Catholics. That is something that’s always been there
and has been something I’ve respected and understood… And whether it’s through religion
and faith… and a sense of self… and using it to be a better person morally and ethically…
Having good ethics is really where my faith lies at the moment. I really believe in a lot of
religions, practices and think they’re good.
Profound reflections on life and death, spirituality and faith are often associated
with older people and the ageing process. Holmes (1995), an Australian historian,
writes about the 1920–1930 diary entries of ageing women:
As the diarists grew older, we can see in their writing some of the ways in which they came
to terms with their increasing years, the different meanings age held for them, and the
significance of the present and past… The concluding years of their lives were generally a
time of reflection looking back on dreams realised, hopes fulfilled and pain and hardship
endured (p. 153).
Through the writing of this chapter, like Patricia, the co-authors ponder the enigma
of the meaning of life and death, faith and spirituality. These case histories of
Australian women, both young and old, provide insights into ‘critical moments’.
Melissa and Christina expressed their yearnings and hopes for the future and
imagined days gone by in moving and poignant ways.
Kuhn (1995) writes that ‘The past is gone for ever. We cannot return to it, nor
can we reclaim it now as it was’ (pp. 3–4). Still, can the past at times, be glimpsed
162 9 Hopes and Dreams: Capturing What Is Not Yet There
in the lives of the next and following generations. Dreams and hopes of a prior
generation perhaps can inspire the pursuits of future generations. Equally, passions
and desires can be hoped for and experienced at any age and at any point in the life
cycle. The future, as these case histories denote, is not always promising and can
signify disappointments, disenchantments and lost opportunities. Nilsen (1999)
suggests that hope is comprised of aspects which could get in the way of hope
manifesting. These aspects cannot personally be controlled. Sadly, for Melissa her
‘idealistic’ hopes for children and grandchildren will not be realised.
Memory work is ongoing and will permeate stories yet to be told. When pon-
dering travel into the future Melissa commented that she hoped that she could see
more of her sister Claire’s children, ‘…it will be much easier to visit each other and
so, yeah, by 90 we’ll have been able to spend much more time together’. Although
Claire’s children will not be able to meet their Aunt Melissa in person, she will visit
them by living on in the memories that family and friends have to share, with every
story further questions will be raised and there will always be something else to
look into. And as for Christina, perhaps she can find solace and consolation in the
meditation that was central to Melissa’s life and the deep Catholic faith of her
grandmother and great Aunt Patricia that she learned to respect and understand.
References
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people talk about the importance of hope in their lives. Journal of Youth Studies, 17(6), 778–
793.
Cuzzocrea, V., & Mandich, G. (2015). Students’ narratives of the future: Imagined mobilities as
forms of youth agency. Journal of Youth Studies.
Henderson, S., Holland, J., McGrellis, S., Sharpe, S., Thomson, R., & Grigoriou, T. (2007).
Inventing adulthoods: A biographical approach to youth transitions. London, Thousand Oaks
and New Delhi: Sage Publications.
Holmes, K. (1995). Spaces in her day: Australian women’s diaries 1920–1930s. Allen and Unwin:
St. Leonards, NSW.
Kuhn, A. (1995). Family secrets. New York and London: Verso.
Leccardi, C. (2005). Facing uncertainty: Temporality and biographies in the new century. Young:
Nordic Journal of Youth Research, 13(2), 123–146.
McLeod, J. (2015). Gender identity, intergenerational dynamics, and educational aspirations:
Young women’s hopes for the future. In J. Wyn & H. Cahill (Eds.), Handbook of children and
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Nilsen, A. (1999). Where is the future? Time and space as categories in analyses of young people’s
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Thomson, R., & Taylor, R. (2005). Between cosmopolitanism and the locals: Mobility as a
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342.
Chapter 10
Lies, Secrets and Silences: ‘That
was a Disappointment’
Anne Keary
In this study, girls and women used the interview space to talk about the politics of
community and religion. One topic which emerged in the conversations between
mothers and daughters was that of the recent Australian Royal Commission into
Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse. The older generations, in particular,
expressed dismay and anger at such a hidden and deceitful history that played out
so close to their families, homes and schools. The impact that this toxic history and
its disclosure have on their religious belief systems becomes apparent in the ensuing
discussion.
The tainted history of the Catholic church was touched on in Ronnie and my
conversations as two paedophile priests skirted the perimeters of our young lives.
One was a curate at St. Finbar’s parish in the 1960s and the other was a parish priest
at St. James; the adjoining church to Star of the Sea College where we attended
secondary school. We both had stories to tell of these priests. Today St. James, a
© Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd. 2020 163
A. Keary, Education, Work and Catholic Life,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-13-8989-4_10
164 10 Lies, Secrets and Silences: ‘That was a Disappointment’
burnt down church scars the affluent landscape of Brighton. The charred remains of
this old building represent a blemished history of the Catholic Church which, as this
book is written, is being battled out in the Victorian justice system.
Anne: … the elephant in the room is the burnt down church which is next
door to where we’re having this conversation.
Ronnie: Knowing now the hypocrisy of what went on.
Anne: The Star Chapel had more significance for us; we rarely went into
St. James for school functions. But for some of the women in this
study, it was their local church.
Ronnie: Every time I drive past it, I remember how my mother didn’t like
the priest there and so stopped going altogether even if it meant that
she couldn’t get to mass. She wouldn’t go when he was on. She
would say -, ‘there’s something about this guy that I don’t like.
He’s showing us a performance’, which she felt was very
inappropriate.
The sexual abuse of children by Catholic clergy was an emotive and sensitive
topic both throughout the first and second phase interviews of this study, and also
during the writing of this book. It touched all the women in different ways and the
suspicions and inside knowledge of the older generations ring true as the findings
from the Australian Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual
Abuse are released. This Royal Commission was announced on 12 November 2012.
It followed on from Australian State initiatives—Victoria’s Parliament’s Inquiry
into the Handling of Child Abuse by Religious and Other Organisations in addition
to a New South Wales Special Commission of Inquiry. The Australian Royal
Commission was in the main spurred on by abuse allegations within religious
contexts with a particular focus on activities in the Catholic church. Middleton et al.
(2014) contend that ‘While an issue for all churches, the Catholic church has
eclipsed other religious institutions in the extent of child sexual abuse allegations
made against them’ (p. 18).
Self-professed feminist Rich (1979, p. 186) refers to Nellie Morton’s (who
influenced a generation of women in the field of Theology) act of‘ hearing each
other into speech. How do we listen? How do we make it possible for another to
break her silence?’ During phase one of the research which took place in the
mid-1990s, the extent of the child sexual abuse in the Catholic church had not fully
come to light and perhaps, even though there were concerns regarding sexual
Telling and Tellability 165
misconduct of clergy, the ‘telling and tellability’ of this type of story in a shared
forum such as a research interview the women may not have felt comfortable
discussing the topic. The breaking of silence on this topic was not an easy task. The
youngest generation did not express their viewpoints on this topic to the same
extent as Generations 1 and 2. Perhaps, this was because the issue impacted on
them in a different way and not to the same extent.
In 1995, the religious cultural milieu for the first phase of interviews was the
beatification of Mary MacKillop, the founder of the Josephite order of nuns. It was
reported in the media (ABC News, 2010) that Mary was excommunicated by the
church as she exposed a priest who was abusing children, ‘In 1871, after only four
years as a nun, she was excommunicated from the Roman Catholic Church and
turned out onto the street with no money and nowhere to go’ (ABC News). Five
months after her banishment, a Bishop on his deathbed gave instructions that Mary
be absolved, and her religious position restored. In 2009, 100 years after the death
of Mary, the Archbishop of Adelaide made a public apology to the sisters of St.
Josephs for Mary’s unjust excommunication, ‘On behalf of myself and the arch-
diocese I apologise to the sisters, especially to the sisters for what happened to them
in the context of the excommunication when their lives and their community life
was interrupted, and they were virtually thrown out on the streets and that this was a
terrible thing’.
As phase one interviews took place in family homes, the television in the
background celebrated Mary MacKillop’s beatification; a significant event in
Australian Catholic Church history. Pat (Generation 1), in a conversation with her
daughters Mary and Fiona (Generation 2) talked about how Mary was central to her
prayers and thoughts:
Mary: Well, why do you pray to Our Lady [Mary, mother of Jesus]?
Pat: Well, because she’s the mother image and I’ve been a mother and I’ve
asked her to help me and guide me…
Fiona: And you pray to St. Christopher if we’ve lost something.
Pat: Oh, and I’ve got St. Anthony on the go and now it will be Mary
MacKillop…
Anne: Why Mary MacKillop?
Pat: Well I think she was a wonderful lady and I think she’s going to do great
things (Interview 1995).
Mary’s work, the Catholic church contends, takes on a non-rational form with its
saintly ways. McCreanor explains that: ‘… sainthood contests the dominance of
rational discourse by its reliance on wonder-working as a field of saintly inter-
vention and social action’ (p. 32).
In contrast, the second phase of interviews coincided with the Australian Royal
Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse. The issue of child
sexual abuse in the Catholic church by clergy became further intensified during the
writing of this book. In June 2017, Australia’s senior Catholic prelate and one of
Pope Francis’ top advisors, Cardinal George Pell, was charged with sexual assault
by the Australian State of Victoria police. It was difficult at the time of the writing
of this book to gain information about the committal hearing as Pearson (2018,
March 21) notes,
In Victoria, where Pell’s committal hearing is taking place, the accused can usually be
identified. However, other restrictions apply either under legislation or in suppression
orders issued by a presiding judge or magistrate.
During the production of the book the suppression order was lifted, and it
became public knowledge that a jury had found Pell guilty of historical child sexual
abuse of two 13-year-old choir boys. The incidents occurred at St. Patrick’s
Cathedral, Melbourne in the late 1990s. He was sentenced to 6 years jail with a
non-parole period of 3 years and 8 months. Pell’s legal team have lodged an appeal
against his conviction.
Some research has been conducted into the spiritual implications for women
who are survivors of sexual abuse within religious settings and for those who were
sexually abused in other contexts (Crisp, 2012). However, the issue of spiritual
abuse and trauma and the impact of the clerical child sex abuse crisis on the beliefs
and faith of the congregation is under researched. The topic was not explicitly
raised by the researcher in the interviews, yet it became evident that it was of
considerable concern for some of the research participants. Not necessarily because
the women spoke of being victims of clerical sexual abuse or that their families had
been impacted directly. Nevertheless, it became apparent that it had marked the
women’s own personal belief systems. The scandal influenced the women’s rela-
tionship with the Catholic church as an institution and as a keeper of religious
history and knowledge. It shaped the way in which some women viewed the
hierarchy and authority of the Catholic church.
In the Shadows
Adrienne Rich, in her 1976 book ‘Of woman born: motherhood as an experience
and institution’, distinguishes between motherhood as an institution under patri-
archy and mothering as an experience. Rich wrote as a mother, daughter, as a
scholar taking her theory from various disciplines, and as a woman. She claimed
that she could not escape from including the personal in her account of motherhood.
In the Shadows 167
Rich contended that men have held the power over how, when and where women
should mother and have convinced women that, as women, they need to mother.
This ideal has directed women into the domestic sphere and away from the public
domain of society. Rich also argues that patriarchy has controlled the relationships
women have with their children.
In this chapter, women as mothers and daughters, and supported by the writing
of scholars from a range of disciplines, discuss from personal experience how the
Catholic church has infiltrated their relationships as mothers and daughters. The
lies, secrets and silences (Rich, 1979) of the Catholic church, particularly on the
subject of the sexual abuse of children by clergy, permeated the women’s con-
versations; at times, in tense ways. As an institution, the church historically has and,
in contemporary times continues, to keep women in the shadows of its hierarchical
male-dominated epicentre of power and influence. Rafferty (2015) discusses the
politics that underpin the governance of the Catholic church as an institution:
The challenge for women in the Roman Catholic Tradition is not necessarily the Church as
an institution per se but with the ideological and ethical stance of those given charge of its
governance; the age-long difficulty has always been whether the power intrinsic to its office
is played out as power over or power with. The authority and power given to the role of the
Institution make those who administer it important political players conveying and estab-
lishing ideological and political views. That this power is kept solely in the control of men
betrays the patriarchal power system at work in the church and the gender politics at the
heart of the Liturgy of the Eucharist; that it is believed to be divinely mandated calls into
question not only the politics of the Vatican but also for women, who are at the bottom of
the hierarchical power structure of patriarchy, the nature of the divine is itself brought under
scrutiny (p. 304).
Rafferty considers the political nature of the governing male body of the Catholic
church who assert ‘divine authority’ to delineate and control the church’s teachings.
This sense of power and control filters down to the priests who are guided by the
Vatican to preach and sermonise. The gender politics and subservient positioning of
women which is at the heart of the Catholic church is represented by the all-male
priesthood. This system of patriarchy is founded on the sanctification of men and is
bounded by a man-made hierarchical system of control that operates at not only the
level of the Vatican but at the archdiocese and parish level as well where lies,
secrets and silences are constructed and endorsed.
Rich (1979) probes issues of secrets that are often consigned to ‘silence’ and
covered over by ‘lies’ including those by dominant patriarchal systems. Like this
book, Rich’s work is autobiographical and focuses on women’s history. Part of the
story of women’s history in this chapter is how the sexual abuse of children was
hidden within a cone of silence and deceit by the Catholic church hierarchy. This
deceitfulness was conducted in a way that parishioners and employees of the church
were left suspecting but had few means to pinpoint and disclose the distrustful and
suspicious behaviour of not only the abusers, but also those in power who con-
cealed consecrated priests’ abhorrent behaviour.
168 10 Lies, Secrets and Silences: ‘That was a Disappointment’
Rich (1979) writes of the power of women speaking about their secrets. She sees
this sharing as a means of transformation and bringing about change:
one of the most powerful social and political catalysts of the past decade has been the
speaking of women with other women, the telling of our secrets, the comparing of wounds
and the sharing of words. The hearing and saying of women has been able to break many a
silence and taboo: literally to transform forever the way we see (pp. 259–260).
The women in this study shared what they know and knew about the sexual
abuse of children by Catholic clergy. They spoke of how they felt betrayed by the
Catholic church. Although not as frequently as in the second phase of interviews,
on a few occasions the subject of child sexual abuse by Catholic clergy was raised
in the 1995 mother–daughter interviews. The subject was initiated by Pam
(Generation 2) while discussing her own intense resentment of the church. Pam
spoke to her mother Nadia and sister Cilla of the sexual abuse proffered by the
Christian brothers on Bathurst Island, an Aboriginal community in the Northern
Territory of Australia:
Pam: Oh, all this stuff keeps coming to light, like the Christian Brothers on
Bathurst Island… There’s all this stuff coming to light about abuse. Oh, it
just stinks.
Nadia: It is horrific, it is but Pam do you realise they’re not the only ones…
Pam: Oh, of course … these people are doing things in the name of God.
Cilla: They’re enticing people who are innocent.
Pam: I think it’s lying to people… deceiving people … (Interview 1995).
These women recoiled at the stories of child sexual abuse and how it took place
in a veil of silence. Rich (1979) associates lying and deceit with the notion of trust.
She discusses the way in which a loss of trust results in a reconsideration of how we
define trust and the way it impacts on one’s whole sense of being, ‘When we
In the Shadows 169
In time, the public revelations of abuse changed the way society and the con-
gregation viewed the Catholic church and its positioning within their own lives and
society at large. During the second phase of the longitudinal study, the subject of
child sexual abuse in the Catholic church had intensified and emotions were
heightened as the extent of the abuse was becoming even more evident. It was a
subject that touched and affected the women in a multitude of ways.
Catholic clergy were revered and held in high esteem by many of our parents
and grandparents. Women from the older generations spoke about the challenges
the issue presented to them not only because of the extent of the abuse but
moreover, because of the way in which the Catholic church had responded in an
170 10 Lies, Secrets and Silences: ‘That was a Disappointment’
insensitive manner to the victims of abuse. The silencing of the victims was per-
ceived as another form of manipulation and coercion. Some of the women
described how it made them more sceptical towards priests and the church hier-
archy. Bernadette (Generation 2) explained:
Well, I think the child abuse thing does touch you, especially because when we grew up
priests were revered in our family. I think they were treated as someone special as having a
holiness about them and the same with the nuns… I think the child abuse thing challenges
you in that the church has responded so poorly to it and not compassionately to people that
have been affected. I don’t think those abused would ever get over it, no matter what the
response, but I think they could have been treated… it must be terrible not to be believed
for so many years and to have to have a Royal Commission really for it all to come out. So,
yes, I think people will always be a bit more sceptical about the priests and the hierarchy of
the church (Interview 2016).
For some women, this distrust was tempered by the actions of Pope Francis who
was elected as head of the Catholic church in March 2013. His social justice agenda
does not refute the women’s scepticism at what has occurred but mitigates their
anger towards the church as an institution. Bernadette continued: ‘…I do believe
Pope Francis is a leading light in humility and focuses on the needs of the poor and
marginalised people, which is good’. McPhillips (2016a, b) also believes that Pope
Francis’ shift in papal attitudes to a range of contentious issues shows his ‘com-
passion and theological liberalism in his treatment of thousands of marginalised
Catholics’. Still, she questions whether the language and patriarchal discourse of
the Catholic church has fundamentally changed:
The image of the church as a sort of humane theological triage unit saving people from
danger might be engaging but is this the basis for real change in the church? Or merely a
softening of language that will keep intact oppressive doctrines and a bureaucratic culture
that is often conceived as medieval and misogynistic?
For women, like Pat (Generation 1) who were raised and educated in Catholic
schools in the old-style, the challenge in thinking through the abuse scandal and the
way it impacts on her relationship with ‘God’ is not easy. Pat explained the
dilemma to her daughters—Mary and Fiona—and granddaughter Olivia:
Pat: What has been happening in the church has been absolutely tremendously -
Mary: devastating.
Pat: Yes, and a lot of people have turned their back on the church because of
that situation…Well the priests that have been paedophiles. There’s another
one that’s in court today I believe.
Mary: I think you have found that quite challenging.
Pat: Very hard. When we were growing up, we used to be told when we went to
confession… pray for the priest. I used to think well why do they need
prayers, but look you could talk for hours on religion and I don’t think
people have turned their back on God. I’m sure they haven’t. I hope not…
(Interview 2016).
The Congregation: Undermining Their Faith 171
Loreto (Generation 2), in her 2016 interview, articulated the distinction she
makes between faith and the institutional structures that bind it. She believes that
the Catholic system is largely made up of ‘good people’:
I don’t know whether it’s because I’ve worked in Catholic schools; I worked with nuns as
fellow teachers, as colleagues. I had priests who were basically my boss. I definitely
separate faith from the institution, from individuals in a way…. But I wouldn’t want to say
the Catholic church as such is bad because there are so many good people. There are so
many people of such strong faith that do such wonderful things. In generalizing and saying
that the Catholic church is bad… It’s almost like you’re undermining their faith or saying
what they believe isn’t relevant or isn’t important or that they’re deluded (Interview 2016).
Courtin (2013), in a commentary on the Catholic church, like Loreto, notes that
there are many notable and good people taking up a range of roles within the
Catholic church. However, she takes the discussion further and makes observations
about the power held by the male hierarchy of the church. Courtin suggests that this
control needs to be let go of, so the congregation can ‘be the church’ rather than
power being totally held by an ‘ageing boys club’:
There are many thousands of good Catholics in Australia and the employment of 180,000
workers is a good thing. But if Rome and its extremely powerful, wealthy and ageing boys
club (including Cardinal George Pell) want to be relevant in 2013 and beyond, they must
match their power and authority with compassion, responsibility and accountability – both
civic and moral. They must also relinquish their questionable hold on power allowing the
people, women and men equally, to be the church.
Separating one’s faith and the institution of the church appeared to be one way
some of the women in the study reconciled the hypocrisy and deceit associated with
the sexual abuse scandal. Smethurst and Harrod (2019) tell the story of Margaret
Harrod (the co-author) and the cost she incurred whistleblowing on her twin
brother, a Salesian priest’s, molestation of children. Margaret was a nun and is a
survivor of sexual abuse. She lost everything as a consequence of disclosing her
brother’s paedophilia to church officials. She explains that the Catholic church as an
institution let her and many others down:
The church was my sanctuary, my safe place, but it is no more. I’ll always believe in God,
and I will always hold a deep faith near to my heart. But the bureaucracy of the Catholic
church let me and many others down, I gave so much of my life to them, and they stole my
innocence, my hope and my goodwill, then cruelly turned their backs on me when I needed
them most. I now live with my church inside me, and I create sanctuaries for myself that are
meaningful, safe, peaceful and prosperous (p. 310).
Margaret shared how she creates her own sanctuary and her church lives inside
her rather than as an institution.
Another way to cope with the scandal and deceit was for the women and their
families to engage with the church on their own terms and only partially. Peg from
Generation 1 described the discontent with the Catholic church as ‘disappoint-
ments’ and associated these ‘disappointments’ with why the next generations in her
family have given the Catholic church away. Though, her daughter Fleur
(Generation 2), like Loreto and Courtin (2013), spoke of the various positions that
172 10 Lies, Secrets and Silences: ‘That was a Disappointment’
the congregation take up in the Catholic church. For instance, Peg’s grandchildren
attended Catholic schools and members of the family worked in the Catholic
education sector. Even though the family has given the church away to a degree,
there was still a level of engagement with the church as a provider of education and
employment. Peg and Fleur told their family’s story:
Peg: You’ve all given it away because there are so many disappointments in the
church.
Fleur: Given it away to a certain degree… we’ve all sent our children to Catholic
schools, and we’re all working in Catholic schools. So, there’s an element
of not giving it away, isn’t there, really? (Interview 2016).
Some women in the study found a way to engage with the Catholic church on
their own terms. Yet, for one Generation 2 participant, as an employee at a Catholic
school, her employment presented challenges when an issue arose with the parish
priest. The church community became alarmed at the hypocrisy and duplicity in
church teachings being preached from the pulpit. Both the Generation 2 participant
and her mother expressed their disappointment in the church. This disappointment
was felt and heard in the tone of their voices and in their body language. The
Generation 1 mother summed up the situation as ‘it’s difficult for you then [working
at that school]’. Church employees find ways to negotiate their terms of employ-
ment with the church but can be placed in challenging positions.
The media in Australia and internationally played a key role in exposing the
institutional nature of the abuse. Kathleen McPhillips, a feminist academic who has
conducted research into the topic, wrote a review in February 2016 about the
critically acclaimed film Spotlight that was based on the story of journalists
uncovering the child abuse and cover-ups in Boston over decades. Kathleen saw the
film at her local cinema in Newcastle, a large regional city of Australia and writing
about the film says, It’s based on the true stories of too many people, in too many
countries, including my home town of Newcastle, north of Sydney, Australia.
Audrey (Generation 1), alluded to the fact that the media have been the source of
exposure. Audrey spoke of her husband’s suspicions about what was going on at
two Catholic Boys’ secondary colleges that parents from her community sent their
sons to. Audrey reflected with her daughter Andrea (Generation 2) on ‘how we can
be clever in hindsight’:
Audrey: I mean the Royal Commission is a good thing because actually the church
will benefit from it. It will be interesting, there’s so many hurdles but
sometimes when things come out in the open no matter how bad they are,
it’s better than being hidden.
Hindsight: Looking at an Old Situation from a New Angle 173
Andrea: Well I think also the people who will benefit will be the kids of tomorrow
because abuse will no longer - the Catholic church can’t hide it, it will be
an offence not to report it. It’s all those kids down the track who would
have been susceptible.
Audrey: It’s interesting even my husband came out with a few things in his day
that made him very suspicious at some schools…
Andrea: Hindsight.
Audrey: We can all be clever in hindsight (Interview 2016).
Rich (1979) explores this idea of hindsight and how we as women can look at an
old situation from a new critical angle and writes about the act of looking back:
Re-vision – the act of looking back, of seeing with fresh eyes, of entering an old text from a
new critical direction – is for woman more than a chapter in cultural history: it is an act of
survival. Until we understand the assumptions in which we are drenched we cannot know
ourselves. And this drive to self-knowledge, for women, is more than a search for identity:
it is part of our refusal of the self-destructiveness of male-dominated society (p. 35).
Audrey declared that we now know the realities associated with the abusive
practices of the male clergy, but it is not through ‘hiding things’ that the church and
its community will be able to move forward:
We now know the truths of everything. We were very suspicious, but we didn’t know the
facts, now it’s factual… it’s good because that’s the only way you move on …not by hiding
things and making things sound much better than they are… (Interview 2016).
St. James church, Gardenvale was the gathering place of a number of families
who participated in this study. Audrey respected and held in esteem the clergy at
St. James, her local parish church but she now speaks of her suspicions.
I thought we all put St James on a pedestal and then when I realized that things weren’t as I
would like them to be. The people I knew and particularly the clergy involved I respected
but they all must have known. Yes, they must have. But out of it all I think it will be a
cleansing and there’ll be some very hard times in the very near future (Interview 2016).
There was a prestige associated with this parish and the outwardly magnificent
123-year-old church building that symbolised the grandeur and dignity of the
Catholic church. In March 2015, St. James was destroyed by a fire lit by arsonists.
The church at the time of production of this book was undergoing reconstruction
(see Image 10.1). Peg (Generation 1) remarked when she asked if she had any
disappointments with the Catholic church, ‘I suppose the paedophilia in the church–
in our parish [St James] it was rife, wasn’t it? That was a disappointment’
(Interview 2016). Rachel Griffiths (an actor and former parishioner of St. James and
alumni of Star of the Sea college) offers her perspective on this well-established
parish and its church. After the fire at the church, she commented to a local
Melbourne, Australian radio station.
I think it’s always been a difficult building for us to drive past, because there’s so much tragedy
and complicated feelings… We’ve all attended funerals of boys that we now know were
abused by [Father] Pickering…I think it’s always been a difficult building for us to drive past,
because there’s so much tragedy and complicated feelings. We’ve all avoided being married
174 10 Lies, Secrets and Silences: ‘That was a Disappointment’
there and found other churches, and it’s kind of been a bit of a thorn to see it standing’. She
described the smoking church scenario as ‘a relief’ (Mills, Hatch, & Preiss, 2015).
Trish (Generation 2) noted how members of the Catholic clergy believe that
there is in an issue with how the church has responded to the sexual abuse scandal.
A priest in her community acknowledged that the church is in a pariah state. Trish
thought that
… the Catholic church is still going through a pretty bad patch. I went to a great retreat day
at my daughter’s school. There was a lot of Catholic secondary and primary teachers there,
and it was run by a very inspiring priest. He was great, because he was just so honest, and
saying look really the Catholic church has had a pretty bad PR of recent times, and rightly
so. I think it’s still in a really bad patch. I don’t know how it’s going to come out of it… But
the church is not really what people want to associate themselves with at the moment
(Interview 2016).
In spite of the Catholic church, as an institution, being ostracised for the child
sexual abuse scandal and how it has responded to it, according to the 2016
Australian Census (Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2018, April 5), the Catholic
Hindsight: Looking at an Old Situation from a New Angle 175
population was 22.6% of the total Australian population; a slight drop from 25.3%
in 2011. There is also a significant Catholic education sector in Australia.
Approximately, 20% of Australian students attend Catholic schools (ABS, 2018,
February 2).
Generation 3 did not engage to the same extent in the conversation about the
sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic church and if they did, they did not generally
speak of it with the same intensity as their forebears. It had not affected them
directly. The women of Generation 3, who had attended Catholic educational
institutions received a different style of religious education and upbringing from
their mothers and grandmothers. Joanne, 22 years old at the time of the 2016
interviews, was educated in Catholic schools. She explained how when she atten-
ded Catholic secondary school, they were presented with ethical dilemmas based on
Megan’s Law:
Joanne: When I was there in Year 11, we had to figure out ethics and stuff like that
which was actually really interesting given all the controversial topics
today. I remember we did one on Megan’s Law. We had to do a lot of
research and figure out how we felt about stuff like that. So, it was kind of
a bit more of a modern take on religion, I guess.
Anne: What sort of law was it?
Joanne: Like the paedophile one, so like you have to register if there’s someone in
the area. Yeah, that’s all I really remember of it (Interview 2016)
Megan’s Law reflected a significant shift in American Criminal Law although
similar laws have been instigated in other Western nations. Teichman (2005) out-
lines these laws: These laws create a system that disseminates information to the
public about convicted sex offenders such as their names and home addresses.
Originally these laws were enacted to assist the public in protecting itself from the
threat of repeat sex offenders. (p. 357). He states that: In general, these laws require
convicted sex offenders who are released into the community to register as
offenders and provide for some level of public notifications as to the presence of a
sex offender in a community (p. 378). Salvemini (2008) claims that, ‘The rationale
behind Megan’s Law is to “protect… children from the acts of sex offenders”
because offenders, especially those who commit “predatory acts against children”
are likely to recidivate’ (p. 1032).
Halstead (2014) suggests that what differentiates faith schools is that their aims
and curriculum and the role modelling by their teachers intertwine to provide a
relatively common framework which is connected directly or indirectly to the faith
of the school. In this case, secondary school students were involved in discussing
ethical dilemmas.
Felicity, one of the older representatives of Generation 3 at the age of 30, had
more to say about the child sexual abuse scandal as a teacher, a daughter and a
concerned citizen. She spoke of the divide between generations in terms of their
176 10 Lies, Secrets and Silences: ‘That was a Disappointment’
commitment to the dominant religious denominations. She believed that the sexual
abuse scandal has ‘isolated people’,
… I think if you spoke to any three generations of Catholic women anywhere in
Melbourne, there would be a divide between the generations. Socially people are not
identifying with the major religions perhaps as much as they were, especially in the
developed world, particularly after all the sexual abuse scandals in the Catholic church.
That’s isolated people more as well (Interview 2016).
Conclusion
The issue of child sexual abuse in the Catholic church is a vexed and provocative
issue. The current sexual abuse case associated with Cardinal George Pell that is
being battled in the Victorian court system is intense and emotive. There were
suspicions held by members of the older generation of women in this study about
the child sexual abuse that was occurring in their local parishes, but they felt
powerless to speak out about what they suspected was being instigated by highly
respected members of the community.
Possibly, there is hope as the secrets are exposed, the lies are uncovered, and the
silence becomes an act of speech and performance. Rich’s (1979) words bookend
and echo the sentiment of this chapter ‘the children of mothers who are able to take
their lives in hand and confront the institutions that oppress them are our best hope
for a future in which human existence will no longer be ruled by hypocrisy and
force’ (p. 222). Mary MacKillop, whether in a literal or symbolic sense, represents
these thoughts.
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Chapter 11
Stories that Memorabilia Tell
in Mother–Daughter Exchanges
Abstract This chapter focuses on memorabilia that pass among mothers and
daughters. Luce Irigaray, a French psychoanalyst, suggests that small handmade
objects be interposed between mothers and daughters to create a personal spatial
identity. This elusive feminine space was uncovered in this study when women and
girls were asked about objects and material items that had been handed down to
them through the maternal line. Anne, the co-author, has a wooden carving from
Oberammergau, Germany of St. Anne and her daughter Mary that had passed
through her maternal line. It is a symbol, a sign of her female forebears creating a
spiritual and material space for the mother–daughter relationship. By foregrounding
stories about memorabilia, it is suggested that the multiple dimensions of women’s
lives come into view. Such stories affirm female subjectivity within the boundaries
of social, cultural, familial and religious discourses. In this study, these objects
served as mnemonic devices for generating and provoking mother–daughter stories.
This chapter unpacks some of the meanings given to these memorabilia.
Introduction
This chapter was largely written in Haifa, Israel and Rome, Italy, where we were
working for university purposes. The unfamiliarity of foreign places took us out of
the Australian context and opened up the possibilities of our thinking. Moreover,
the notion of women and their travels is an idea that emerges in other chapters, and
in Sue’s letter discussed below, as she was living in India at the time she received it.
We were also prompted to consider, while in Israel, the idea of the importance of
the maternal line in Jewish religion, Israel being the Holy Land and Rome being the
centre of the Catholic Church.
Last June, Anne searched for a representation of the mother–daughter relation-
ship in the form of St. Anne and Mary in Tallinn, Estonia and Lucca and Florence
in Italy, but to no avail. Nor could she find it in Australia. However, while on a
weekend trip with her niece Christina who was visiting her in Israel, she came upon
it in a small shop in the Christian quarter of the old city in Jerusalem. The old
woman who sold her the wooden plaque of the Byzantine image of St. Anne and
Mary had an Italian mother and a Lebanese father.
Anne then told Christina the story of the wooden statue (see Image 11.1) that her
Aunty Inez brought back from Germany and gave to her grandmother, then it went
to her mother and then on to Anne. Inez died at the age of 33, the same age as
Melissa, Christina’s sister. This prompted Christina to tell Anne the story about the
week after Melissa’s death, when her mother and she sat in the apartment in Italy
and sorted through Melissa’s things. Melissa had listed to whom they all were to
go—letters back to the people who had written them, her collection of elephants to
friends, gold earrings to a friend she went to school with in India.
These poignant memories and life connections serve as affective starting points
to a chapter that will unpack some of the meanings given to these artefacts, artefacts
signifying a maternal history.
Background—What Is Culture?
With Hoggart (1957), Williams and Williams (1977) not only challenged simple
definitions of ‘culture’, but also suggested how individuals create identities and
lives through cultural resources. ‘Culture’ was now being constituted from the
ground up, in the sense that it comprised any expressive activity contributing to
social learning (Aggar, 1992).
Drawing from Williams, the members of the Birmingham Centre of
Contemporary Cultural Studies in the 1960s argued that
Culture is a distinctive way of life embodied in beliefs and customs, social relations,
institutions and material objects. All these aspects of the sub-culture were referred to as
‘maps of meaning’, which shape the sub-culture and make it intelligible to its members.
(Valentine, Skelton, & Chambers, 1998, p. 13)
182 11 Stories that Memorabilia Tell in Mother-Daughter Exchanges
As early as the 1965, Georges Perec published Les Choses: Une histoire des années
soixante. In 1981, Csikszentmahalyi and Rochberg-Halton described their signifi-
cant 1977 study, The meaning of things: Domestic symbols and the self. This study
asked 82 Chicago families to identify and discuss meaningful objects in their home
—what meanings the identified thing held for them, what life would be without it,
where it was placed by the owner and so on.
Csikszentmahalyi and Rochberg-Halton built on the idea, relatively new at the
time but now broadly circulated, that we both constitute and are constituted by our
relationship with things we value, actively shaping the self through the process.
Like Williams (although he doesn’t use the word), Csikszentmahalyi and
Rochberg-Halton refer to a dialectic between the processes of differentiation and
integration or using objects to express individuality or sameness. It is a negotiation
of this interaction that personal traits emerge. Texts, rituals and institutions formed
signifying practices, and were interrelated as ‘a whole way of life’ (Williams, 2003,
p. 57).
Willis (1990) further linked cultural resources to the creation and sustaining of
identity, arguing that most people’s lives are ‘full of expressions, signs and symbols
through which individuals and groups seek to creatively establish their presence,
identity and meaning’ (pp. 1–2).
In a contemporary world, however, a text is a synergy between multiple codes
and perspectives rather than an object or a thing. If a text is not inherently anything,
then the meaning and value we ascribe to a text is ‘a function of our relationships
with others, relationships which are in turn determined by the social and institu-
tional settings in which we live and work’ (Bennett, paraphrased by Doecke &
Hayes, 1999, p. 39).
Drawing on a cultural studies perspective, this chapter will explore the ‘elusive
feminine space’ offered in the passing on of mother–daughter memorabilia. From
an understanding of the engagement with such forms of expression, we explore
meanings created through the exchanges, contextualised in space and time. Through
positioning the artefact and process of giving in wider articulations of family,
religion, cultural and social relationships, we search for insight into the significance
of the everyday.
These vernacular literacies emerge from the ways objects are inscribed by both
the giver and receiver, rich with ‘memories, emotions, connections and stories
[which] convey and express aspects of personal and cultural identity’ (Duggan &
Gandolfo, 2011, p. 316).
The Study of Objects and Identity 183
The notion of cultural identities adopted in this chapter is fluid and multiple, as
argued by Stuart Hall:
…belong[ing] to a future as much as a past/It is not something which already exists,
transcending place, time, history and culture. Cultural identities come from somewhere,
have histories. But like everything which is historical, they undergo constant transformation
… they are subject to the continuous ‘play’ of history, culture and power. (1990, p. 393)
Irigaray (1993) asserts that for a woman to disrupt the patriarchal order that is
embedded in Catholic discourse, she needs to find representations and images that
endorse and foreground her genealogy. In order to do this, Irigaray suggests that
women create spaces that are material as well as symbolic among mothers and
daughters. The creation of these spaces can encompass the passing of memorabilia
and dialogic exchanges between women. Irigaray writes:
In concrete terms, that means that the mother-woman should speak to the daughter-woman
… talk about things that concern the two of them, talk about herself and ask her daughter to
do the same, bring up her genealogy, especially the relation to her own mother … (p. 50).
Framing Analysis
Bartlett and Henderson (2016) identify five categories of feminist objects that
emerge from the historical everyday of Australian women within patriarchal cul-
ture, or Catholic theology for the purpose of this chapter. These categories, useful
for our analysis here, include corporeal things, world-making things, knowledge
and communicative things, and protest things. ‘While an object could belong to
more than one major class, it will have a primary association that nominally
determines its membership …’ (p. 162). In addition, as Bartlett and Henderson
point out:
…Our feminist system is strongly horizontal in orientation, whether this is in terms of the
arrangement of objects within these four major categories or the arrangement of objects
within these categories… We find … a diversity rather than a continual differentiation of
feminist objects (p. 166).
The ‘intracategory dynamic and its flat structure’ (Bartlett & Henderson, 2016)
reference two components of the mother–daughter relationship. Foremost, objects
passed among mothers and daughters, in this analysis are discernibly politicised and
not framed as purely personal. We acknowledge that there is not an exhaustive set
of objects that can be categorised, and that Bartlett and Henderson’s categorisation
system is not fixed and finite. In adapting Bartlett and Henderson’s model, we have
thus added a further category, the spiritual. Second, the objects to come under
analysis depict the ‘collectivisation of identity rather than an individualisation of
identity’ (166). Mothers and daughters make and use objects as a system of lan-
guage to participate in a collective conversation and therefore a collective identity.
A consideration is the method of production of the things in terms of their
diversity. Katelyn (Generation 3) commented, ‘I think [it’s important], just because
it’s handmade, that’s probably the main thing for me’. Bartlett and Henderson
Framing Analysis 185
(2016) point out that in their study, ‘a number of these (things) were produced by
typically feminine skills, signifying where women were then located, as well as the
more nontraditional skills marking the future for liberated women’ (p. 167). In
relation to this chapter, we reinterpret this feminine form of production and
repurpose its existence so that these feminine things, as part of an exchange among
women, to create Irigaray’s (1993) elusive feminine space. Bartlett and
Henderson’s protest category is represented by the feminist approach which
underpins this chapter and the analysis of the memorabilia.
The objects handed down from mothers to daughters fell into the corporeal,
world-making, knowledge and communicative aspects of Bartlett and Henderson’s
(2016) classification. The memorabilia, as they are interpreted and understood,
provide a rich source for transformative thinking about mother–daughter exchan-
ges. This transformative thinking is bound up with the notion of spiritual memo-
rabilia which builds on the five categories Bartlett and Henderson identify. Spiritual
memorabilia, as it is passed among mothers and daughters, foregrounds an elusive
feminine and, it is suggested feminist space, which sits within, yet outside, the
confines of Catholicism.
Spiritual Memorabilia
By working a feminine image back into dialogue about memorabilia passed among
women, a visceral feeling is created that is invisible while at the same time visible.
The memorabilia and the feminist analytic text unsettles the performance and
narrative so that it is not just a mother–daughter story being told. Rather the women
are part of the construction of the story. We begin this analysis of memorabilia by
building on Bartlett and Henderson’s (2016) categories with our own category,
‘spiritual memorabilia’.
The Bible tells the story of the Old and New Testament. For Catholic school-
girls, the patriarchal voice of Catholicism is foregrounded which can result in the
forgetting and/or side-lining of female ancestry. Through the mother–daughter
stories of memorabilia, another history of Catholic upbringings is told, a different
history, a feminine history passed on from mother to daughter.
Modjeska (1990) writes that:
History does not move in straight lines, it is fractured and uneven and runs off at tangents.
The temptation is to talk as if the chronology went somewhere, and changes have clear
derivations and destinations (p. 90).
The stories of spiritual memorabilia told in this section run off on tangents and
the chronology becomes fragmented. Looking in different places and spaces and
from different perspectives, other stories of Catholic histories are told that provide
mothers and daughters with spaces to articulate their own feminine stories.
186 11 Stories that Memorabilia Tell in Mother-Daughter Exchanges
Location: St Finbar’s
Ronnie: I was looking at a photo last night of us after our first holy
communion. We were out on the steps at the front of St. Finbar’s
and your little veil was falling off. I remember that time, us dressing
up in white and having a special dress and new shoes. I remember I
had white patent leather shoes and it was a really big deal. And here
we’re back here today-
Anne: Were they white or black?
Ronnie: They were white shoes, and I remember we bought them in Martin
Street, and it was a really big deal.
Anne: So, it’s the whole performative aspect of Catholicism as well… I
came across some things this morning including the veil from the
‘first holy communion’ I found it wrapped in tissue paper in a box
in the cupboard…
Ronnie: And I just spoke about it. How weird. [Ronnie looks at it] It’s so
little
Anne: Do you remember these?
Ronnie: Oh, mantillas, we used to wear these to Mass.
Anne: Remember when we didn’t have to wear hats anymore? And the
mantilla replaced the hat.
Ronnie: Yes, it was a progression.
Puri and Thomson (2017) when reporting on an Oral History Project comment
that ‘When asked about faith, many Australian Generations interviewees described
how their beliefs morphed across their lives’ (p. 95). For some of the women in this
study, a transformation in faith took the form of a questioning of family and
religious practices of the past. Religious memorabilia triggered stories about the
reshaping their belief systems.
Trish came into contact with the rosary as a young child as it was part of the
routine of her mother’s daily routine. Trish told the story of the rosary from
Connemara (see Image 11.2) in Ireland, which she bought for her mum when she
travelled to Ireland in the 1980s when she was in her early 20s:
Instead of having the full round Rosary beads with five decades of the Rosary - it’s just got
one decade of the Rosary in these beautiful chunky Connemara rocks and there it’s got a
ring. So, what you do is you move the ring from one finger to the next, for the five decades.
I just thought that was a beautiful present mum would like, which she did. So yes, that was
just something that I brought here after she died.
Spiritual Memorabilia 187
Despite the strong emotional resonance of the rosary, Trish told her daughter
Rosie about the significance of the gift:
When you’re travelling you’ve got your eye out for a little present that people at home
might like and I’d never seen anything like that, and I don’t think she had either.
Rosie: Did she like it, or did she not like it because it wasn’t traditional?
Trish: Oh no, she liked it. She was probably the only lady at St. Finbar’s with a rosary like
that.
Anne: So, did you ever say the Rosary with her using those beads?
Trish: Oh, I’m sure we would have. She would have done that to show me that she liked the
present, for sure…
188 11 Stories that Memorabilia Tell in Mother-Daughter Exchanges
Sumrall and Vecchione (1992) in their anthology of stories about ‘Catholic girls’
tell stories, like the stories of these women, that take the reader into the church
through the eyes of women. The women in this anthology recount with humour
alongside pain the ritualised events which shaped their Catholic girlhoods. Brady,
in this anthology writes about the rosary which ‘is a circle, never finished. You can
always say another one’ (p. 125). These activities, like the memorabilia stories are
contextualised against the background of girlhood family life and concepts of faith.
Anne, the co-author, remembers one of these activities. The local church would
on occasions had missions. As part of these missions, a statue of Our Lady (see
Image 11.3) would circulate around the neighbourhood and Catholic families
would take it in turns to host the statue in their homes. Every evening Catholic
families from the parish would visit the host home and join the host family to recite
a decade of the rosary.
In 1995 mother–daughter exchange, Marie (Generation 2) and her mother
Agatha (Generation 1) told the story of the statue:
Marie - I remember those statues arriving on a very regular basis, sitting there on that table.
We used to kneel down in front of that statue, and I remember that snake coming out of
Mary’s foot.
Agatha - That’s it (laughs) - Mary’s foot.
Marie - The whole street used to come to our home. We used to pray to the statue, which
didn’t seem all that bizarre at the time, but now it sounds incredibly bizarre. They wouldn’t
do that now, would they, the statue?
Agatha - The statue was a way and means of the continuous rosary being said in the home.
Spiritual Memorabilia 189
Marie commented how the recollection of something ‘normal’, the mission and
the neighbourhood rosary gatherings around the guest statue of Mary with the snake
now seems, from a distance, at once both convivial and peculiar.
The origins of these representations of Mary depict her, in fact, stepping on the
snake which has an apple in its mouth. The links back to the Garden of Eden story
in Genesis 3:15 are ambiguous, as there is some dispute, common to various
biblical texts, over the gender assignation of the Hebrew translation. It is not clear
that it is ‘he’ (Jesus) or ‘she’, Mary, who ‘…will crush your head and you will
strike his (her) heel’. Nevertheless, the proliferation of statues depicting Mary
destroying the snake affirms yet again the place and presence of the Virgin in
Catholic iconography. In Marie’s childhood recollections, the snake is ingenuously
reconstructed as ‘coming out of Mary’s foot’, as well as being the cause of
neighbours crowding family space.
190 11 Stories that Memorabilia Tell in Mother-Daughter Exchanges
Corporeal Things
Bartlett and Henderson’s (2016) first category (our second) is corporeal things.
Corporeal things, they contend, encapsulate the exterior and interior of the body; for
instance, clothing and intimate things. This category highlights the feminist
movement’s novel focus on the body as intrinsic to a feminist politics, the necessity
of remaking the self, and particularly the body as a woman’s jurisdiction …
(p. 163). The meaning behind the corporeal things is implied not explicit. These
objects revive emotional memories of people and times gone by as well as actions
in the present.
Anne, the co-author, remembered this in reference to her mother who modelled
to her ways of dressing up the body:
One of the weekly public performances that I can remember my mother dressing up for was
Sunday Mass. Not only did my mother dress me up in my best dress for Sunday Mass but I
can also recall my mother’s ritual for dressing up for Sunday Mass. Part of this ritual was
her beauty routine (Lim 1996). She moisturised her facial skin … powdered her face lightly
and put on a reddish orange shade of lipstick. It was a routine which I often watched as a
young daughter and it is part of the familiarity of the daily conditions which fashioned my
feminine identity. I know so well the habitual ways of my mother’s beauty routine. This
etched out maternal image of ‘dressing up’ triggers in me a strong sense of self. It is one of
the compendiums of representations which have passed between this mother and daughter
(Keary, 2011, p. 71).
Anne recollected that as a young woman; her mother on occasions bought her a
bottle of moisturiser (see Image 11.4) as a gift. The moisturiser was made by the
Carmelite nuns, who were located in Kew, near where Anne’s grandmother lived.
Anne’s was being prepared for enacting a particular type of femininity while, at the
same time, a space for a mother–daughter exchanged was created.
In terms of handmade clothing, Katelyn’s (Generation 3) grandmother passes on
‘bits from her house’ in preparation for her own passing. Katelyn told the story:
I think well – when we got married Grandma made us all garters, all the granddaughters so
we have one of those which I would keep and pass down – depending on if I had a girl, I’d
pass that down…
World-Making Things
Bartlett and Henderson describe their (2016) second category as ‘world making
things’:
The second category, world making things refers to items that bring into being a feminist
world in creative and cultural terms, and contains groups based on the verbal, the visual,
decorative, and the aural (p. 164).
Within this category, sit the Pat’s (Generation 1) jewellery box (see Image 11.5)
which was passed onto her daughter Fiona, Trish’s (Generation 2) cake stand (see
Image 11.6) that she inherited from her mother, Sally’s (Generation 2) family tea
cups and coffee cups (see Image 11.7) and Patricia’s (Generation 1) collection of
world-making things.
Patricia in conversation with her niece Anne, the co-author, described her coffee
cups, silver tea set, as well as a jug and crystal biscuit jar from her grandmother.
Patricia - Well, that cupboard over there is full of things that have been passed on to me.
That beautiful hand painted coffee set was given to my parents on a special occasion, it was
their 25th wedding anniversary and it was hand painted by Good Shepherd nuns. Then
192 11 Stories that Memorabilia Tell in Mother-Daughter Exchanges
there’s the tea set, the silver tea set, and there’s a little jug up the top that came from my
grandma’s side of the family. From my grandma, my mother’s mother… that crystal biscuit
jar… and a few other things, cups and saucers and some glasses. There was a pearl necklace
that my mother left me, it’s waiting to be repaired.
World-Making Things 193
Cups and saucers, some glasses and a pearl necklace from Patricia’s mother
further represent gendered practices, pragmatic as well as symbolic learning of
female rituals, and inculcating female generations into ways of being.
Rituals associated with birthdays and religious happenings such as ‘first holy
communion’ brought world-making things out of cupboards and drawers. In 2018,
Trish remembered her Catholic girlhood and recounted one of these occasions:
Meg, my mother, was very much into birthdays. Every birthday in the family, we would
first of all get up early and go to Mass at St. Finbar’s and there was no eating or anything
before Mass. I think it must have been seven o’clock or something like that, when we went
to mass. Then we’d come home and line up at the lounge room door, which would be
closed, and the birthday person would be first in line. After that you’d line up in order of
age, which was quite exciting when I was little. I’d always be first or second. Then you’d
go in and, on the table, would be your presents and a beautiful sponge cake made by my
mother on that crystal stand.
Trish spoke of her mother’s cake-making practice for birthdays that had passed
down the generations along with the crystal plate. The cake stand, and the
cake-making practice give us clues as to who Trish has become. The cake stand
represents a relationship with another person, to a mother who has since the first
phase of interviews, passed away. The stand is evidence that Meg shaped how her
194 11 Stories that Memorabilia Tell in Mother-Daughter Exchanges
daughter would relate to her own daughter. Rosie, Trish’s daughter claimed the
cake stand, and cake-making practice is ‘part of the family tradition’. She continued
adamantly ‘I will be getting the cake stand’.
Trish: So yes, we just always had one of Meg’s sponges on the crystal plate. I don’t make
my kids have a sponge cake, but we do have quite a few. Now I ask them what cake they
would like, and they will always say…
Rosie: But pretty much every birthday you still bring out.
Trish: It’s just, you know makes it look special.
Rosie: It’s part of the family tradition, isn’t it? I will be getting the cake stand.
Trish: Then we eat it with our silver cake forks and stir our tea with our silver spoons.
Rosie: She has to have the cake forks, yes.
The story of the jewellery box (see Image 11.5) has become a story passed down
from grandmother to mother to daughter. The jewellery box can be read as por-
traying multiple and contradictory images of the maternal and the feminine as they
are located within a matrilineal lineage. The jewellery box symbolises the trilogy of
father, mother and daughter but it also points to a feminine space, as the object has
now been passed onto a daughter from her mother and the story of its origins passed
on to a granddaughter.
Knowledge and Communicative Things 195
The third category in our understanding of the place of the lives of objects in
mother–daughter relationships is Bartlett and Henderson’s (2016), ‘knowledge and
communicative things’.
While virtually all feminist objects can be described as communicating a feminist message
or way of being in the world and as offering forms of feminist knowledge, the category of
knowledge and communicative things is defined by objects, that, as their primary purpose
have to produce, record, and distribute feminist thought and knowledge (p. 165).
This category is deeply verbal, entails formal and informal registers and provides
examples of intense exchanges between mothers and daughters. It is about how this
relationship is imagined and narrated, the communication of knowledge and
information and reveals ways of thinking and knowing the everyday. This category
constructs a space for a feminist politics that brings to the fore powerful, yet at
times routine exchanges among mothers and daughters.
Bartlett and Henderson (2016) describe this category as ‘ideational, documen-
tary, interpellating, and legitimating’ (p. 165). It touches on the enduring and lasting
nature of the mother–daughter relationship through communicative things, even
post death. The following letter draws on these notions in everyday ways through a
letter written by a mother (Mona) to her daughter, Sue (Generation 2).
Mona’s (Generation 1) letter gives insights into a deeper understanding of letters
in a mother–daughter correspondence discussed here. Sue (Generation 2) over
30 years later shared a letter (see Image 11.8) her mother wrote to her in 1985. Her
mother Mona died in 2005, 3 weeks after Anne’s, the co-author’s mother, died. Sue
elaborated on the continuity and significance of Mona’s presence within her own
and her daughters’ lives:
Well so many things (have changed in the last twenty years), chief among them is that mum
is not here anymore, though she is for me very much a present. I often forget that she’s not
here, I go to tell her things. She would often say to me as a wayward adolescent, ‘I hope I
live long enough to see your children behave to you as you behave to me’. And of course,
she got her wish in spades. My girls were so close to mum, and they loved her so much and
she was very much their advocate, and if things weren’t going so well it was always me
who got the advice on dealing differently with them. So, I think she’s been a very strong
and a very positive influence in their lives, even though almost half their lives she’s not
been here (Email exchange, 2018).
Sue, when asked to discuss something to share of her mother’s, produced a 1985
letter written on the Adelaide Parkroyal [stationery], which she mentioned, because
she thinks I would think it was odd that she was writing on paper that wasn’t hers.
The letter afforded an opportunity to express herself in ways that Sue did not
normally expect from her mother, as she read:
“My Dear Sue”. Again, a different introduction. Mum wasn’t overtly affectionate
to her children, much more so to her grandchildren, so calling me ‘My Dear’ was a
surprise.
196 11 Stories that Memorabilia Tell in Mother-Daughter Exchanges
I must say how sorry I am that I haven’t written for so long, but honestly Sue there have
been times I just can’t sit down and write, because things are pretty much the same here.
This sense of the quotidian at home is reinforced later through reference to the
traffic:
The trip from Madras with its hiccups on the way must have been a nightmare Sue, I think I
would have had a fit. Our traffic here sounds quite uninteresting.
Knowledge and Communicative Things 197
Mona, in her letter, continued to describe her efforts to look after Sue’s older
sister who was unwell. Mona also played a role in caring for her unwell daughter’s
children:
… we go out to buy them clothes, but both [the children] have their own ideas, and most of
the things have to be changed, which is so sad because it is such a big thing and such a big
effort to do these things. Even so it’s all therapy and helps her to feel she is keeping in touch
with her finger on things.
As Sue read her mother’s letter, she interpellated another layer of meaning for
Anne as a friend and interviewer. Mona noted that her unwell daughter is not able
to cope with the family or stress … Even so it’s all therapy and helps her to feel she
is keeping in touch with her finger on things. Sue commented ‘Very typical mum
that she saw the good side’. Sue also observed what is not said by Mona, creating
an empathy in relation to unrecognised selflessness:
And little things like the kids not liking their clothes, that would really hurt mum because
she would know what that meant, but she would never say anything.
The maternal and feminine are emphasised within the every day as Mona
continued to enquire about Sue’s daughters, Felicity and Jane:
I was wondering if little Felicity’s dress fitted. [Sue]. So, it must be the end of October
because it was Felicity’s birthday that she got this very beautiful dress. So, I think our
letters must have crossed. It would be nice and cool being cotton. Jane, I received your
lovely letter. I can’t believe you don’t go to the big toilet yet. I’m sure by the time you come
back to Tralia… that’s what Miss Janey called it…
Threaded throughout the daily details is Mona’s desire to have her daughter,
Sue, home:
Sue we’re all looking forward to your return. I guess by now you are starting to think of
packing up again. The little girls sound lovely. They won’t know us when they come back.
It just seems ages since we have seen you all … if you have problems when you return
about accommodation, don’t hesitate to make 12 [our home] your headquarters. You will
probably wonder at the address… And then she talked about a drive that she and dad were
going to take over to Adelaide while her unwell eldest daughter tried a little bit of time at
home.
Mona is constructed here as the forbearing post-war mother, more formal with
her own children but warmly affectionate with her grandchildren. Her stoicism and
generosity are admired by Sue and identified as the reasons she selected this letter
as her mother–daughter artefact. Sue acknowledged what it is her mother has
modestly chosen to offer to one daughter and confide in with another:
So, I’m glad she shared that with me. She sounds tired you know, that it’s all been quite a
big thing … It was yeah, a wonderful gift that she gave [my sister].
Conclusion
Mother–daughter exchanges can be passed over and form the backdrop for other
events in women’s lives. The memorabilia represent an entry into a matrilineal past,
and the women’s voice gives them meaning and guide their interpretation. The
memorabilia tell of relationships to the family, church and history. It also provided
a means to reclaim a space for the mother–daughter relationship. The entrance of
the father into the narrative through the story of the jewellery box points towards
the beginning of another generation, another chapter in a woman’s life. The fem-
inist project of reclaiming this feminine territory is not over as Katelyn, Rosie and
Olivia of Generation 3 continue to tell the stories of the wedding garter, the cake
stand and jewellery box, their associated rituals and uses.
This chapter uncovers a system of mother–daughter exchanges via objects and
acknowledges; things that support the construction of this relationship. In Bartlett
and Henderson’s (2016) terms, they comment on individual lives but which toge-
ther, speak to a larger set of collective ideas:
Our system of feminist objects and its collective biography locates the activist object in a
larger frame and outlines a collective and political story; the scale and shape of a feminist
way of being; the circuits of production, use, and exchange; the stylists that underlies a
women’s movement culture; and the way in which feminist objects speak not of distinction
or prestige but of potential hope… (pp. 170–71).
The identification of certain objects passed among the mothers and daughters
might thus add another layer to how, in a materialistic and consumer-dominated
society, things can still carry strong meaning and open up a space for women and
the maternal.
Postscript
As part of Anne’s journey to Rome, she returned to Australia with some remaining
material belongings of her niece Melissa who, like Inez her great-aunt, died at the
age of 33. Melissa will be recollected through these cultural artefacts, memorabilia,
Postscript 199
photos and letters. Her niece Mia (Claire’s daughter) will come to know Melissa
through these artefacts as Anne came to know more about Inez, through the wooden
statue of St. Anne and Mary.
Acknowledgements Photos are reprinted with the permission of the author, Anne Keary.
References
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Chapter 12
Conclusion: A Coming of Age
with Familiar Friends
Anne Keary
The Book
The book has drawn on data from a longitudinal project on ‘Growing up Catholic:
The mother-daughter nexus’. It followed 13 groups of Australian women in two
phases of interviews that spanned twenty years. Since the mid-1990s and the first
phase of this study, I envisaged some type of public recognition of this research.
A recognition that would celebrate the lives of this group of mothers and daughters.
An acknowledgement that would draw back on and highlight these women’s his-
tories and tell of everyday lives enmeshed in contradictions and paradoxes, hopes
and dreams for not only the self but for future generations.
A multi-methodological approach was used in this study to gain fresh insights
into how women come to see themselves. This approach entailed women’s dis-
cussions about photographs and a range of memorabilia that represented what is not
always communicated in an interview; that is, to reveal the multiple dimensions of
women’s lives. An important aspect of this methodology was my own immersion as
a Catholic woman and daughter into the research. My own life history, in its social
situatedness, served as the point of departure and connection to the other women in
this narrative. This was a useful and enlightening starting point to reveal how
In this study, the accrual and intertwining of personal and relational experiences is a
political act. It is suggested that being political is about having knowledge and a
critical voice. The data collected in this research is a form of knowledge about
The Personal Is Political 203
women’s perceptions and memories of their lives. The issue with making the
personal political is that it is difficult to know when to stop. In this instance, I have
never left the social world of the research participants and ‘when to stop’ is a
nebulous question while researching from an auto/biographical feminist stance.
An important point is that the study is more focused on interpreting dynamic
understandings of how it is to be a Catholic or to come from a Catholic background
than to determine what it is to be ‘Catholic’. The study does not seek out simple
fixed answers to how growing up Catholic shaped the relationships of a group of
mothers and daughters. A diversity of responses on a range of issues related to
religion and upbringings were considered across the chapters teasing out how
maternal intergenerational relationships are mediated.
A conventional discerning feature of longitudinal research is the way in which
temporality is calculated in the methodology making change a key aspect of the
analysis. This study was not designed in its initial iteration as longitudinal research.
Yet, the notion of change and continuity was built into the original design in terms
of inter-generational relationships and the impact of these relationships across
generations. Initially, questions were posed as to, ‘where do the psycho-social lives
of mothers and daughters diverge? How is maternal continuity and discontinuity
produced, yet contested in the lived experiences of these women?’
The second phase of the study provided insights into the interaction between
history, auto/biographies and ‘research time’ (McLeod & Thomson, 2009, p. 77). It
is through the temporal aspects of longitudinal research that aspects of social
change and the means and tactics employed by people to make and deal with
change in their daily lives come to light. Through making time an integral aspect of
analysis an increased understanding was gleaned of how the personal and the social,
agency and structure, the micro and macro intertwine and transfigure people’s lives
(Neale & Flowerdew, 2003). A rich fine-tuned investigation was undertaken to
view generational change in multiple and complex ways, so deviations and
divergences could be considered.
Coming of Age
This book entails a form of ‘cultural memory’ as the chapters tell personal and
collective anecdotes and stories of the grand/mothers and grand/daughters
re-presented. By collating and collecting these memories, and positioning them
within a conceptual analysis of social, gendered and religious cultures of the past
and present they become public ‘cultural memories’. The focus of the analysis shifts
from the individual to the collective and closes ‘the gaps between theory and
experience in ways that are intended to change the nature of the experience, not
simply to accept it’ (Schratz & Walker, 1995, p. 41).
Across the two phases of the study, women’s memories of past events and eras
changed as bygone stories assumed different meanings. The various grand/
mother-grand/daughter reminiscences were differentially expressed across the
204 12 Conclusion: A Coming of Age with Familiar Friends
phases of the study and represented practices and periods of time in a contextualised
and contingent manner. The women rethought and reworked memories in complex
and subjective ways, and through this revising provided rich accounts of genera-
tional change. A collective form of biography was engaged within the process of
revisiting experiences, memories and emotions so that the relating of lives occurred
in an agential way.
Chronological age has been noted as one possible explanatory framework in
terms of the temporality of women’s lives. The work of Irigaray (1993) was
employed in the first phase of the research to ground the temporal analysis asso-
ciated with the life cycle. Irigaray argues that there are two points lacking in
Western culture’s concept of ageing as it is defined within a patriarchal linear time
frame. She contends that ageing need not just be constituted as the cumulative
dynamics of the adding on of years.
The first phase of the research used Irigaray’s concept of ageing to assist, in
particular with interpreting the voices of the older Australian Catholic women
interviewed. It provided an analytic space to acknowledge the wisdom and expe-
riences that these women bring to the social construction of womanhood, moth-
erhood and the mother–daughter nexus. It came to my attention as a researcher that
these social memories and everyday anecdotes of older women span life cycles that
interweave with a range of times.
To disrupt the patriarchal notion of the tallying of years Irigaray (1993) turns to
the passing of the seasons—spring, summer, autumn and winter—to symbolise a
different time cycle. Irigaray points out that what occurs within a season cannot be
reduced to the adding on of one more year. Many vegetative changes occur sea-
sonally every year, but each season is not the same. Irigaray claims that the seasons
hold the potential to represent women as a ‘becoming’ which follows on from, yet
is distinct from, that of the past year. Not only is a year added on to women’s lives
but the many things which connect yet distinguish that which occurs within the
seasons of each year represents women’s spiritual growth, a growth of feminine
consciousness.
This seasonal notion of ageing reminds me of my mother. Throughout her life, as
with her sister Patricia, the garden drifted in and out of her conversations and
weaved through the events and happenings of the passing years. She often chatted
about her plans for the garden and the colour of the impatiens in the window box.
Her thoughts seemed cued into the different shades and shapes of the seasons
whether it be the reds and yellows of autumn or the deciduous forms of winter, yet
the flowers bloomed in a different way each year. They bloomed a different fullness,
in different colours and sometimes their bloom was remembered for other events
which took place throughout the year. The sheaths of lily of the valley denoted
October 1950, the occasion of her wedding. The flowering of the pansies in
September of 1951 reminded her of the birth of her eldest daughter.
This love of the garden was passed on to me, her daughter. During the writing of
the first phase of this research, a Ph.D. thesis, I observed the changes in the tropical
garden where I lived in far north Queensland; the movement between the torrential
wet and pleasant dry, the humid and the arid. Living in Melbourne as I worked on
Coming of Age 205
this book, the seasons denoted a progression in writing and my own shifts in
understanding as a daughter, an aunt and a woman. Like my mother in the first
phase of this research, I am now in a post-menopausal period of my life. Just as it
did for my mother the sunlight filters through my kitchen windows so that the
African violet flowers with its striking purple blooms.
The central focus of this book has been the mother–daughter relationship in its
many forms but a thread which seeped through is that of female friendship and
‘sisterhood’. ‘Sisterhood’ in terms of family relations as well as in relation to
women’s struggles and rights in the Catholic church, community and broader
society. Women’s relationships with each other can be understood in many ways as
they pass through different stages and levels of intensity. Associations between
women symbolise dimensions of trust in others, alongside a level of independency.
Scribing this story of mothers and daughters and female relations provided me an
auto/biographer, a daughter, with a way to somewhat explain the complexity of
women’s companionship.
On show in the homes of my grandmother and mother were ornate religious
statues and pictures that were adorned with rosaries and bordered by vases of
flowers. This religious iconography represented different tales of Mary, the mother
of Jesus, as well as stories of saints such as St. Thérèse and St. Bernadette.
Haughton (1995) writes that saints, ‘are familiar friends to talk to, and people often
take a few minutes out of the busy day to kneel, light a candle, or set down a
bouquet and say a prayer…’ (24). These adorations were part of the fabric of my
childhood and represent the deep unquestioning Catholic faith of my maternal
forebears (Keary, 2017).
Tales of Mary, the Virgin mother of Jesus and the saints were told to me as I
grew up Catholic. In this book I could have elected to focus more on this Catholic
doctrine to try to come to a better understanding of my religious upbringing but
instead I prefer ‘to build little shrines’ (24) of remembrance to the mother–daughter
relationship and ‘familiar friends’ who shared with me a little bit about how women
guide and inform each other’s subjectivity through their relationships.
The intent of this study was to provide a partial and particular socio-historical
perspective on the positioning of the Catholic mother–daughter relationship. This
qualitative longitudinal tale provided insightful analysis of how women are posi-
tioned by Catholicism. Yet, it concerns me that I have made public the private lives
of the women whose voices are heard in this text and seen in the photographs.
206 12 Conclusion: A Coming of Age with Familiar Friends
Auto/biographical theory does not just make the personal political but also public.
So, while this political project has made visible women’s perceptions of their lived
realities it has also opened their lives and ways of thinking to public scrutiny. This
represents the ambivalent and contradictory tension and logic of the feminist tenet
of the ‘personal is political’. My own political and theoretical intent is similarly
ambivalent and contradictory as I aspire to redraw the boundaries of female sub-
jectivity—to shape a renewed understanding of Catholic women’s lives and to
expose how the ‘public face’ of Catholicism is experienced by Catholic women in
their private, personal lives. The double bind is that this book provides a site for
Catholic women to articulate their stories yet, at the same time, it takes away a piece
of their private space.
This book constructs a textual space which stretches the boundaries of the
traditional academic genre. The intent is that female subjectivity is read without
closure or completeness. A strength, yet limitation of this book, is that some stories
of the mother–daughter relationship were told but many stories were left unstated.
I believe that the women framed themselves, in the interviews and through their
own editing of their interview transcripts, as they wanted to be represented. Stories
of abuse, sexual orientation, mental wellbeing, and sickness were discussed in the
interviews but did not always make it into the finished manuscript. Periods of
conflict and dissension between mothers and daughters were at times eclipsed. The
authors of the text chose to include or exclude material on the basis of its usefulness
to the conceptual analysis. Personal stories were excluded sometimes by the authors
for ethical reasons of privacy and respect for the women and their families. In the
end, some painful and uncomfortable stories about everyday life were left
unexpressed.
So, a partial and contingent understanding of the Catholic mother–daughter
nexus is provided in this book. The material realities of life will continue to rebut
and challenge these understandings. The ambiguities, ambivalences and contra-
dictions are immense and perhaps insurmountable. Nevertheless, I do believe that
social analysis provides opportunities to engage in discussion about the plural and
multiple meanings of what it is to be women. For some women, this engagement
may ease some of the tensions and anxieties attached to womanhood as well as
highlight sites of pleasure and contentment. It can also assist women in gaining a
political voice, whether in the private or public domain, with which to assert their
identity and desires, and to challenge silencing ideologies.
There remains much to be written about women’s histories, relationships and
lived realities as they are positioned within historical, social and religious dis-
courses. Perhaps the challenge for scholars does not lie exclusively with the
gathering and analysis of women’s stories but in finding modes of representation
which are accessible to and engaging for a wide readership. I hope that other stories
of these maternal genealogies will be told to complement the insights provided into
the lives of the women represented in this book.
References 207
References
Haughton, R. (1995). Personal patrons: Three lives that shaped mine. U.S. Catholic, 60(11), 25–
29.
Irigaray, L. (1993). Je, tu, nous: Towards a culture of difference (A. Martin, Trans.). New York &
London: Routledge.
Keary, A. (2017). ‘Familiar friends’: Catholic mother–daughter narratives. Culture and Religion.
https://doi.org/10.1080/14755610.2017.1287108.
McLeod, J., & Thomson, R. (2009). Researching social change: Qualitative approaches. Sage
Publications.
Neale, B., & Flowerdew, J. (2003). Time, texture and childhood: The contours of longitudinal
qualitative research. International Journal of Social Research Methodology, 6, 189–199.
Schratz, M. & Walker, R. (1995). Research as social change: New opportunities for qualitative
research. London & New York: Routledge.
Epilogue
I close this book with a diary entry written by my niece Christina in her travel
journal. This travel monologue is in memory of her sister Melissa, who passed away
at the age of 33 in September 2017, my grandmother, my mother and her sister Inez
who are no longer with us but will continue to be remembered in the many stories
that we tell (Epilogue Image 1).
Epilogue Image 1 Christina (left) and Anne (right) with Byzantine wooden plaque of St. Anne
with her daughter Mary. Jerusalem Christian Quarter Israel, January 2018
As we were in the Christian quarters, Aunty Anne and I walked into a shop to
ask about any images or statues of St. Anne and her daughter Mary (Jesus’s
mother) as so many representations of the mother/son are in the world but not
of the mother/daughter. My gran had a sister called Inez who was an avid
traveller. Back then, it was a lot harder for women to travel. Inez bought a
wooden statue of St. Anne and her daughter Mary whilst in Germany to give
to my great grandmother. Inez passed away at the young age of 33 from an
asthma attack. She was a teacher of young children—to hear this was
interesting as her life was such a parallel to my sister Melissa’s. When Great
Gran passed, this statue was given to Gran and she passed this along to Aunty
Anne. Anne had travelled to Jerusalem, Israel in her early 20s. So, the fact
that she had returned with me in my early 20s and we found this wooden
plaque image, of St. Anne and her daughter Mary, whilst she is doing a
Research Book about Generational Mother/Daughter relationships with
strong reference to religion has been an incredibly insightful, full circled story
to be woven. These, what some would call coincidences, divine syn-
chronicities are such a gift and tangible wisdom. I’m in indescribable awe of
the infinitely woven tapestry of ancestry.
Appendix A: The Cast
Anne Keary
My Maternal Family
The maternal story became more comprehensive with the inclusion of conversations
with my mother, my sister’s and their daughters, my mother’s sister, her daughters
and granddaughters. This extended maternal family is represented in Table A.1.
The tale of six generations of my maternal family is told in Chap. 2.
Marie’s Family
Marie, my mother described her early family life, post-school pathways and how
she met my father.
I was the eldest and I had two sisters and we were a happy family. Dad was a funny man, he
always had a great sense of humour and my mother did too. She was a wonderful person…
I went nursing at St. Vincent’s hospital in Melbourne and I loved it. There were some
lovely girlfriends that I lived with, and we had a great time; one of the happiest times of my
life. I graduated from there and I went to Sydney with two others, my sister-in-law as she is
today, and another girl and we did our midwifery at St. Margaret’s hospital in Darlinghurst.
That’s how I met your father… He had a lot of work to do in Sydney with his job and he’d
be there for about a week. When he came to Sydney, he’d always look up the nurses as his
sister was a nurse. We went onto get married in 1950. It was a lovely wedding at St.
Anne’s, East Kew…We were very happy, and we had our honeymoon in Tasmania. That
was quite a thing in those days because we were going overseas for our honeymoon
(laughs) to Tasmania. (Interview 1995)
Marie had four daughters and three sons (see Image A.1) for Marie with two of her
daughters. I was the second daughter and fifth child. Marie’s daughters’ namesakes
are all connected with tales of the Virgin Mary. My older sister Bernadette was
Appendix A: The Cast 213
Image A.1 Marie (centre) holding daughter Loreto (left) with daughter Bernadette (right) in 1965
named after the 12-year-old French girl Bernadette. Mary, the mother of Jesus
Christ, appeared to St. Bernadette at the grotto at Lourdes in the south of France.
I am named after Mary’s mother Anne. Marie, my younger sister is named after my
mother; Marie being French for Mary. Loreto, my youngest sister, is named after
Our Lady of Loreto. Inez, my mother’s sister brought back a book about Our Lady
of Loreto from her travels overseas and gave it to her sister Marie. My mother
passed it on to my sister Loreto in her teenage years. As the story goes, the angels
carried the house of Nazareth, the home of Mary (known as Our Lady), to the small
town of Loreto in Italy. My mother’s naming of her daughters symbolised a
Catholic maternal history.
Marie’s daughters
Bernadette, Marie’s eldest daughter spoke of her married life in outback Australia.
In 1996, I would have moved from Mittiebah Station in the Northern Territory a remote
cattle station, with my husband and three children to Tipperary Station, which was closer to
Darwin. My children would have been on School of the Air. They would have moved to a
small school. So, the biggest change has been that they’ve all passed on to their next stage in
life. Sarah’s doing her Master’s, my eldest son is finishing his apprenticeship in diesel
mechanics and my youngest son is finishing his science degree. My husband had made a
major shift from managing cattle stations to be the executive officer of the campus of a
private school in Melbourne, which is based in the Kimberley’s. That’s been a major shift -
he’s away a lot. So, from being a very compact little family, we’re a very scattered family
and they all boomerang back. I’ve returned to nursing, that’s the other major thing. I was
doing bookkeeping previously. We live in Western Australia now. (Interview 2016, aged 64)
Bernadette talked about shifts in family life over the past 20 years.
Anne, the author of this book and Marie’s second eldest daughter described the
conversations she had with her mother Marie in 1994 and 1995 about her grand-
mother Mary’s early twentieth-century photo album.
214 Appendix A: The Cast
Our mother daughter discussion was relaxed with the conversation coming from both of us
and from the album too. However, this is not to deny the contradictions and ambiguities
inherent in a mother daughter reading where there are differences in interpretation. For my
mother, a Catholic framework situated her knowledge whilst for me feminist undercurrents
shaped my reading. Hence, differently situated women both wanted to make claims on the
grandmother …
Reference: Anne Keary (2013). De/Composing Gran’s photo album. Cultural Studies, 27
(6), 955–981.
Marie’s third daughter, who has her namesake, did not participate in the second
phase of this study. Melissa and Christina, her daughters, shared the love they have
for their mother
Christina: I moved back to Sydney because my mum was sick and had cancer. So, I spent
quite a few months just managing that and dealing with that … In some ways, my mother’s
illness has impacted on me but in other ways it’s probably made our relationship better. Just
being there and having that time together has created a different relationship and an almost
better one. Although, we don’t see each other all the time, in a strange way it allowed us to
spend a lot of time together and to get to know each other for who we are… So, it impacted
in a good way, but it was also a very tough challenge, yes, to have to go through that with
someone. (Interview 2016)
Melissa: Well unfortunately I was over in Italy when Mum got sick and at the same time,
the same week, the mother of my husband went into a coma. I remember…it was a really
stressful time. I offered to go back to Australia, but mum insisted that I stay here. Affecting
our relationship…definitely. I think by that stage I’d already reached a level of like loving
mum for who she was. I think at a certain age you reach a level of maturity realizing how
much your mother sacrificed for you or how much she did for you and so you just love her
for that. You don’t really look at the faults that maybe before irritated you. But I felt I
needed to care for her more and tried to support her more in the little way I could from Italy.
Maybe, I felt a little bit of guilt that I couldn’t be there with her. (Interview 2016)
Loreto, Marie’s youngest daughter has travelled extensively over the past 20 years
for work and leisure.
So, 20 years ago I was living and teaching in Melbourne. I was teaching in a Catholic
primary school. Then in 1997 I moved to Jakarta to teach in an International school… I
spent the next six years in Jakarta and then I returned to Melbourne for a year where I did
my second master’s degree, which was a Masters of Education TESOL. After that I
returned to Jakarta for two more years. Then I moved to Beijing where I worked for six
years. Now, I’m in Prague working and this is my fourth year working in Prague. So, a big
shift for me from being based in Melbourne to now living and working overseas and being
an expat. (Interview 2016, aged 51)
Marie’s Granddaughters
Marie, my mother has five maternal granddaughters. Marie loved talking about her
children and her grandchildren. She told stories of her travels to the Northern
Territory to visit her daughter Bernadette on the different cattle stations
Bernadette’s husband managed. Marie enjoyed the time she spent with Bernadette
and her daughter Sarah (see Image A.2).
Sarah (Bernadette’s daughter) who was 25 years old at the time of the interview
gave insight into the various transitional phases of her life.
I started my schooling over School of the Air… After that I went to a small school on a
cattle property in the Northern Territory… I had a year in Darwin before we moved to
another cattle property outside of Broome … At the age of 15, in year ten I went to
boarding school just outside of Melbourne. After school, I took a gap year and worked for a
resort in Broome. I went to university in Melbourne and did a Bachelor of Arts. I lived
overseas for two years working as an English language teacher in Vietnam…I’ve been back
in Australia for two to three months. Now I’m doing a Masters in Applied Linguistics…
Living on cattle properties Mum would take us to church when we were in town, but I
wasn’t going to church on a regular basis. (Interview 2016, aged 25)
Marie loved the occasions when her grandchildren who lived in Sydney came to
stay at her bayside home in Melbourne (see Image A.3). These four granddaughters
were full of life and vigour and loved to hear stories of their grandmother.
Melissa (1984–2017), Marie’s eldest grandchild and the eldest daughter of her
daughter Marie as a young woman lived, studied and worked in a range of locations
both within Australia and overseas:
I went to a public elementary school in Sydney up until class five…I started year six in
Perth and then I did up to year 10 at an international boarding school in India in Himachal
Pradesh. I finished year 11 and 12 at a public girl’s school in Sydney. I went to UTS
216 Appendix A: The Cast
Sadly, Melissa passed away at the age of 33 during the writing of this book.
Neera is the second eldest child of Marie (Generation 2). Neera attended a range of
schools in an attempt to find the right school to cater for her learning needs.
I went to a few different schools growing up … I went to a school in India, I think I was
about five or six …and only went there for six months. I also went to a primary school in
Sydney. From there I went to another primary school, that had an IM class which is for
people with learning difficulties who can’t cope in a mainstream environment. I also went to
a special needs schools for people that have a disability. I didn’t really enjoy school.
I enjoyed more going to TAFE. I enjoyed the adult environment at TAFE. (Interview 2016,
aged 30)
Claire the next of Marie’s (Generation 2) daughters has taken on the role of
motherhood herself. Claire shared the joy she gets from her young children.
I’m married with two children. The eldest boy is three and the youngest boy is one. Getting
married and having kids has changed my life…I studied overseas at a religious boarding
school in India for eight years. The religious aspect was a very big part of the everyday
routine. I have changed religions since coming back to Australia… I’ve now been baptized
as a Coptic Orthodox Christian in an Egyptian church … I’ve worked at an Insurance
company for about 10 years…The moments when the boys are good and they’re happy;
when they come up and hug you, [I feel] overwhelming joy, indescribable. I can’t really
properly remember my life before they were here. (Interview 2016, aged 28).
Since the interview, Claire has given birth to two more children—a girl and a boy.
Appendix A: The Cast 217
Christina is the youngest child of Marie (Generation 2) and has a love for life.
I went to a public school in Sydney… For year eleven and twelve I went to a Performing
Arts School. It swings, but I’d like to study either environmental management… or holistic
practices such as massage and traditional medicine, herbal medicine… I really enjoyed
school up to a certain age and then, I started thinking about different options and that’s
probably why I didn’t want to go to university straight after school; I was really questioning
a lot. I see the beauty of studying something that you enjoy… but it really has to come out
of my own drive. (Interview 2016, aged 22)
Christina enjoys travelling and working overseas. More of her and her sister
Melissa’s story is told in Chap. 9.
Claire, like her mother and maternal grandmothers, wants to be there for her
children to give them love and guidance.
Inez was the middle daughter of Mary and Marie’s younger sister. As a young
child, I have faint recollections of Inez. The photo (see Image A.5) shows Mary, my
grandmother, holding me as a baby with Inez standing slightly to the right and
behind her. The occasion was the First Holy Communion of one of my siblings. At
such events, the extended family gathered and celebrated the occasion.
outback areas of Canberra. I was influenced by Inez, my sister, with the teaching. You only
really had a choice of teaching, nursing and secretarial work if you went to a secondary
school. If you’d left at primary school level which many of the children did you had retail,
hairdressing, dressmaking. (Interview 2017, aged 84)
Patricia’s Family
Patricia was interviewed on several occasions (1995, 2016, 2017 and 2018).
Patricia is my maternal aunty. My mother was no longer with us for the second
phase of interviews and as a researcher I kept going back to Patricia to find out
more about my maternal history.
I’m 62 and I brought six children up, mostly on my own. Ten years of marriage then
widowed. The children were all under ten years of age and I brought the children up. My
early days of schooling were at a Catholic primary school and then at a Catholic secondary
school in Richmond, Vaucluse convent. I was the youngest of three children, three girls.
The eldest one had left primary school when I moved to primary and had left secondary
school when I moved to secondary school, so we weren’t really close in those years. I was
much closer to the middle sister who was only two and a half years older. It wasn’t until she
died at the age of 33 that the older sister and I became closer in ways by playing golf
together once a week. We both had families, we had a few things in common…
Two sisters older than me. They took over and tried to keep order over me, the younger
sister. In school, there was always their ambitions to keep up to, it was always pointed out
how they behaved and how good they were with their schoolwork and one thing and
another. However, I think all these things tended to make me perhaps rebel a fraction but
also to become a strong individual to realize that you had to be your person. (Interview
1995, aged 62)
Appendix A: The Cast 219
I’ve moved to a new house. I moved just around the corner, but I pulled the old house down
where I am living now, and I built two units on this block of land. I live in one of them. It’s
smaller [than the big family home] just a two-bedroom unit. I’m very happy here. I’m very
interested in my garden, making it look very pretty. I don’t have the same interests that I
had twenty years ago, because I haven’t got the same energy, but I am interested in the
garden. I’m interested in reading, television, church activities and involving myself in the
Probus group in the area…. I keep in touch with the family, which amounts to now
seventeen grandchildren and two great grandchildren…I’m 83. I’m coming up to have
another birthday, I’ll be 84. (Interview 2016, aged 83)
Patricia’s Daughters
Margie and Pauline, Patricia’s two daughters, attended a Catholic girls’ secondary
school run by the Presentation nuns in the south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne.
Margie is Patricia’s eldest child. She was interviewed with her mother and sister
Pauline in 1995 and shared a little of her story.
I work six months of the year in Melbourne and the other six months of the year I migrate
interstate where I enjoy the warmer climate. I work with computers in an office… I went to
a Catholic college in the eastern suburbs of Melbourne and then went to a boarding school
for one year… I’m the eldest of six children. (Interview 1995, aged 41)
The second interview with Margie took place at her mother’s home in 2018, when
she was on a break from her missionary work in China.
I’ve done many things in the last 23 years… I’ve travelled extensively around the world,
having probably been around the world, five or six times, I have worked in different
countries, and got involved in missionary trips in Africa and Asia. My relationship with my
family is wonderful. With all the wonderful communications we have Facebook, email…
it’s easier to communicate when you're abroad. In particular with my own mother, she’s
developed a passion for the computer; for the iPad. (Interview 2018)
Pauline is the fifth of Patricia’s children. She took a different life path to her sister
Margie.
220 Appendix A: The Cast
Pauline: I’m married, have one daughter and I’m not working as a nurse at the moment … I
think the Catholic faith makes assumptions about members of the family, like I assumed
that my sister has the same Christian outlook as me because we came from the same
Catholic backgrounds. I assumed that Mum did as well.
In the second phase of the study, Pauline was interviewed with her mother Patricia
and her three daughters and was busy juggling family and work.
[In the last 20 years] I’ve had three more children. I had a girl when we first met. I’ve now
got a boy and three girls… We have our own house in Bayside and we also have our
holiday house… I work three days a week and most of my time is spent mothering and
daughtering. (Interview 2016, aged 54)
Joanne is the eldest of Pauline’s children. Prior to the interview, she has spent a
semester studying in France which she thought was ‘really cool’.
I’m at Australia Catholic University (ACU). I’m studying a double degree in Arts and
Global studies and am in my fourth year now. I should be finished at the end of the year…
I’m still really close to a lot of friends I made in high school… At Catholic secondary
college, I was encouraged to participate in volunteer programs and that kind of helped me
when I started travelling. (Interview 2016, aged 22)
Joanne works for a travel company and enjoys the travel bonuses she earns.
Jacqueline, the middle daughter of Pauline, was completing her final year of study
at a Catholic girls’ secondary college.
I’m 18 and I’m in Year 12 at a Catholic secondary college. [I’m studying] English, maths,
literature, business and PE, and last year I did psychology. I haven’t really done any
extracurricular activities through school but outside I do quite a few…I did competitive
cheerleading and I also do Brownie Guides. (Interview 2016, aged 18)
Since the interview, Jacqueline has completed her Year 12 successfully and is now
undertaking higher education studies.
Samantha, the youngest child of Pauline is a number of years younger than her
siblings. Samantha’s mother Pauline and grandmother Patricia helped her tell her
story about her love for the performing arts.
Appendix A: The Cast 221
Pauline (mother): And you’ve got a concert coming up… a drama concert.
Patricia (grandmother): Oh, you like drama and singing and dancing and playing the piano?
Brief accounts are now provided of the second cohort of women who participated in
this study. Generation 2 were women who attended Catholic girls’ secondary
college with me in the 1960s and 70s. Generation 1 are the mothers of Generation 2
and Generation 3 were daughters and in one instance, a niece of Generation 2
women. The interviews took place in their family homes or on a few occasions via
online connections. The women welcomed me into their homes to share their
stories. The interviews opened up a space to converse as mothers and daughters, as
women, about a range of topics (Table A.2).
Family A
Sally was a year behind me at school. Sally and her mother Aileen participated in an
interview in 1995 at Aileen’s home. Aileen was one of seven children and Sally had
two older brothers. In 2016, Aileen, Sally and her daughters Katelyn, Sarah and
Hannah participated in the research at Sally’s home. Aileen, Sally and Katelyn were
interviewed together followed by Sarah and Hannah, who are twins. Since the
interviews, Katelyn has given birth to a son.
Generation 1
Aileen remembered life growing up in a large family and now relishes the love of
her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
I was the third of seven children … started work when I was 14… married at 20 and had my
first child at 25, two boys and a girl. When I married a non-Catholic (my mother) apolo-
gised to the priest… I wasn’t very impressed with [Catholic education]. I detested it really, I
didn’t really like the nuns. I watched that my kids weren’t treated like the nuns treated us
and I don’t think they were. I can’t say that I was terribly happy with nuns. I went to a state
school for a short time and I was quite happy there. If I had my time again, I wouldn’t go to
a Catholic school. (Interview 1995, aged 65)
In recent times, Aileen had become a great-grandmother and enjoyed her new role:
222 Appendix A: The Cast
Table A.2 Research participants: my school friends and their maternal families
Family Interview 1 (Age) Interview 2 (Age)
Generation 1 Generation 2 Generation Generation Generation 3
1 2
Family A Aileen (65) Sally (34) Aileen (87) Sally (55) Katelyn (28)
Sarah (24)
Hannah (24)
Family B Mona (70s) Sue (40) Sue (61) Jane (32)
Deceased 2005 Ronnie (37) Ronnie (58) Felicity (30)
Georgia (23)
Family C Lucille (58) Cath (37) Lucille (80) Cath (57) Eleanor (26)
Lucy (24)
Anna (22)
Family D Pat (64) Mary (36) Pat (85) Mary (57) Olivia (19)
Fiona (29) Fiona (50)
Family E Francis (58) Anne (35) Francis Anne (55) Emily (19)
Helen (35) Helen (55)
Family F Maria (61) Joan (35) Joan (56)
Adelaine
(35)
Family G Meg (76) Trish (35) Trish (56) Rosie (18)
Deceased 2001
Family H Nadia (69) Pam (39) Pam (61) Debra (29) (niece)
Deceased 2018 Cilla (35) Cilla (57)
Family I Peg (64) Kate (35) Peg (85) Kate (56) Lucy (21)
Deceased 2017 Fleur (31) Fleur (52) Genevieve (15)
Family J Audrey (64) Andrea (37) Audrey (85) Andrea (57)
Family K Agatha (66) Marie (36)
Deceased 2011 Gaye (33)
Cinti (31)
I’m a great grandmother. They’re all delightful children. They love old people and they
love young people. I love them dearly… the whole family visit and take care of me and
sends over meals… I’ve got no complaints. We have a very good life and we’re very lucky.
(Interview 2016, aged 87)
Aileen commented on how she felt very close to her daughter Sally’s children.
Generation 2
Sally, Aileen’s only daughter, juggled family and study commitments.
The youngest of three. When I finished school, I went to Ballarat teacher’s college to do a
Diploma of Education in primary education. Then I did a Graduate Diploma in Special
Education at Burwood teacher’s college. I was married in 1986… We have five children and
I’m at home full time. I work one night a week teaching at TAFE. (Interview 1995, aged 34)
Twenty years on, Sally spoke highly of her five children and where they are in life.
Appendix A: The Cast 223
Five adult children who’ve all got their heads screwed on. It is really, really nice … I don’t
worry about any of them … and they’re all making their way in the world… It’s a very
different type of closeness I have with the girls to what I have with Mum. I would say Mum
and I probably have more of a friendship… I think it’s partially because I don’t have sisters,
I only have brothers. (Interview 2016, aged 55)
Sally commented how at the end of the day she is just pleased that all her children
are happy.
Generation 3
Katelyn, Sally’s eldest daughter, was on maternity leave from her position as an
occupational therapist at the time of the interview. She provided a brief outline of
where she is at in life.
I went to a Catholic primary school until grade two and then I moved to a state school and
then a government secondary college… I’m an occupational therapist and I work in brain
injury rehabilitation. Well, I’m a new mum and I’ve got a six-month-old. I was married in
January two years ago. (Interview 2016, aged 28)
Katelyn hopes that when she’s her grandmother’s age she too will have
grandchildren.
Sarah, like her older sister Katelyn, became an occupational therapist. She spoke
about study and work.
I went to a local secondary college and completed Year 12 there and after that went straight
into an occupational therapy degree for four years. Then I went straight into fulltime work as
an occupational therapist. Since then I’ve had a few jobs, I’ve enjoyed working part-time…
I’ve worked in private practice and with the Education Department in a few different schools
working with children with intellectual disabilities. (Interview 2016, aged 24)
Hannah, Sarah’s twin sister, talked about how she followed in the footsteps of her
mother and sister.
So same as Sarah, went to the same local secondary college until Year 12. Then I took a gap
year and just worked at a pub and at Mum’s school. I went to university in a regional area –
the same university as Mum actually–studied nursing there for three years and then got a job
at the Royal Children’s hospital so I came back to Melbourne. (Interview 2016, aged 24)
Hannah suggested that she learned soft skills for the workforce from her mother.
Family B
Mona and two of her three daughters, Sue and Ronnie, were interviewed in 1995 at
Mona’s home. Sue and Ronnie had young daughters at the time. On 30 December
2015, the second phase of interviews began on a hot summer’s day at Sue’s home.
224 Appendix A: The Cast
Sue was re-interviewed with her daughters Jane and Felicity. Jane has given birth to
two children since this interview. Ronnie and her daughter Georgia were inter-
viewed almost a year later in December 2016 at Ronnie’s workplace.
Generation 1
Mona talked about the hardships when growing up and her early married life:
Things were a bit hard when we were growing up. We knew what it was not to have
things… I was only fourteen when I went to work … I worked then up until I was
married… I had four children … and two miscarriages. I was quite happy. You had your
problems bringing them up one way and another. The money wasn’t around then like it is
now. (Interview 1995, aged in her 70s)
Mona passed away in May 2015. Sue, her daughter, remembered that the day she
died all the grandchildren were ‘telling stories… as though they were the only
grandchild who mattered’ (Interview 2015).
Generation 2
Sue shared the uncertainties associated with being a mother and a worker. She
raised two daughters whilst living in different parts of Australia and overseas.
I’m the third of Mona’s four children… When my children were little, I was really torn
between wanting to do in the workplace what I genuinely liked (secondary school teaching)
and what I thought I was good at. All the messages I got were that I was doing the wrong thing
that … I should be at home and I should be happy, but I wasn’t. (Interview 1995, aged 40)
At the time of the second interview, Sue had just retired. She shared her thoughts
about her own spirituality.
I think I am a spiritual person and I’m perhaps more institutionalised than my daughters.
I go to mass reasonably often. I’m also a philosophy student, so I think I’ve perhaps
broadened my understanding of spirituality in the last few years. The tenants of Christianity
are shared by most of the major religions, so in a sense philosophy reinforces my spiri-
tuality. (Interview 2015, aged 61)
Sue spoke of how her mother is still very much a presence for her even though she
is not with them anymore.
Ronnie is the youngest of Mona’s four children and has two children. She works as
an academic in the field of social work. At the first interview, she commented.
I think our relationship, mum's and mine, is very close since I’ve had Georgia and it the
most honest. It feels very reciprocal like we give to one another and we receive from one
another. And that’s changed I think since Georgia’s been born. I mean not that it wasn’t
good beforehand but I think it was either more one-sided or the other and now that she's
born it not that it's anything conscious at all but there seems to different dimension to it that.
(Interview 1995, aged 37)
Twenty years on, Ronnie spoke of how proud she is of her children.
Appendix A: The Cast 225
Well, I’m an academic and I work full time… I do a lot of work with community part-
nerships. I teach, and do lots of writing… Neither of the kids live at home at the moment …
they’re now adults… I think the most positive thing is seeing my kids grow up and having
relationships with them as adults. I just feel incredibly proud… Watching them gives me
enormous pleasure and they’re just lovely people in the world and all of those values that
we share. I’m really impressed with the fact that they’re really independent, in a whole
range of different ways, much more than I think I was at their age. (Interview 2016,
aged 58)
Ronnie spoke of the inspiring card her daughter Georgia wrote to her when her
mother Mona died. She still treasures and reads that card to this day.
Generation 3
Sue’s daughters
Felicity shared a warm memory of an afternoon she spent with her Nan Mona as a
young child.
I like Jane went to lots of different primary schools. I was at a local Catholic primary
school, and Nan Mona used to pick me up every afternoon. We’d always go and get an
ice-cream. Then I went to [two different Catholic girls] High Schools. I did a Bachelor of
Arts and Teaching and worked at a (government secondary) college. Now I’m at another
government secondary college. (Interview 2015, aged 30)
Felicity spoke of how she had inherited he grandmother’s and mother’s values of
hard work and ‘always delivering your best to other people’.
Ronnie’s daughter
Georgia had just started working full time in the field of marketing at the time of
the interview. She spoke of the importance of community in her life.
The biggest community that I’m part of at the moment is the Frisbee community.
Throughout my life I’ve jumped from community to community retaining some ties from
other communities. Since starting university, it’s been a mixture of the high school crew
and the Frisbee crew. (Interview 2016, aged 23)
Family C
Lucille and Cath were interviewed in 1995 at Lucille’s home. Cath had three young
daughters at the time. In 2016, I visited Cath’s home and interviewed her mother
Lucille, herself and Cath’s eldest daughter Eleanor joined us via Skype from
Mexico. Cath had been living in Shanghai with her husband for three and a half
years and was on a visit home to Melbourne, Cath’s younger daughters’ Lucy and
Anna took part in an interview about 6 weeks later at Cath’s home which they were
living in while their parents were in Shanghai. Cath has since returned to live in
Melbourne.
Generation 1
Lucille provided an overview of her life as a young woman.
I grew up in Bacchus Marsh which was then a country town… I was there until I was 12 or
13. Then I came to Melbourne for boarding school for a few years. I left school after year
11… I met my husband who I married a couple of years later. He was not keen on me doing
any more study so being in love at the age of 19, I didn’t take on any further study.
(Interview, 1995, aged 58)
Lucille returned to study later in life. At the time of the second interview, Lucille
was enjoying good health:
I’m fairly active. I play golf. I’m a choir member. I joined a refugee support group. That’s
mainly it. I’m the mother of six children, most of whom unfortunately are either interstate
or international which is probably the biggest sorrow in our lives. (Interview 2016, aged 80)
Lucille likes to travel with her husband and visit her children and grandchildren.
Generation 2
Cath spoke of her work life as a secondary school teacher.
After school I went to Melbourne University for three years and then I did a Diploma of
Education at Mercy college in Asco vale. I taught for three years at a Catholic secondary
school on the Peninsula… and then moved to an eastern suburb’s Catholic college. I’m on
maternity leave from there at the moment. (Interview 1995, aged 37)
At the time of the second interview, Cath was living in Shanghai, China with her
husband and undertaking voluntary work.
I’m in Melbourne at the moment but I’ve been mostly living in Shanghai for the last few
years because of my husband’s work. I’ve been doing some work there; mostly volunteer
work. I think I’ll be back in Melbourne in a couple of years’ time. I have three grown up
daughters and they’re all doing their independent things. (Interview 2016, aged 56)
Cath spoke of how she loves to spend time with her daughters but likes some
independent time as well.
Appendix A: The Cast 227
Generation 3
Eleanor spoke of her 7-month international travels. However, she was looking
forward to her return home.
I’m currently in Mexico. I’m in the last seven weeks of a seven–month trip in Mexico,
Central America that has also included North America. I quit my job last year to come on
this trip. I am really pleased I did but I am looking forward to coming home and getting my
career started again and seeing my friends and my family and having everyday life in
Melbourne. (Skype call with researcher, mother and grandmother from Mexico). (Interview
2016, aged 26)
Anna commented on how her mother wanted a religious education for her
daughters but had said after that it was up to them to make their own choice about
the place of religion in their lives.
Family D
In 1995, Pat and her two daughters Mary and Fiona were interviewed at Pat’s home.
In 2016, an interview took place with Pat, her daughters Mary and Fiona and
Fiona’s daughter Olivia at Mary’s home. During the interview, they warmly shared
stories about the memorabilia that had passed between them.
Generation 1
Pat provided an overview of her life and commented on how the growing up years
of her grandchildren were so different to hers.
I was born in Preston… [My parents] wanted us to have a good education which we were
very fortunate to have… I was working as a receptionist at a hotel… I was not happy with
the work… My mother suggested that I go and do the course (podiatry like her two older
sisters) which I did… Then I was introduced to my lovely husband; he was Scottish,
couldn’t understand a darn thing he was talking about. I thought he was the ant’s pants…
228 Appendix A: The Cast
From then on, we reared a family. We built a house. He died about 17 years ago. (Interview
1995, aged 64)
Pat in between interviews shifted from the family home and into a ‘lovely unit’
where she’s very happy.
Well I’ve moved… I’ve got a lovely unit and I’m very happy there… I’m healthy. Yeah,
you have your few bits and pieces but that’s okay… I’ve got seven grandchildren. They’re
all grown up… and studying… Things are different now…Well, I do a lot of thinking… I
think a lot has changed. How can I put it? I think they’re taught differently these days.
I mean of course we always had the nuns and they were wonderful creatures and okay we
might have had to learn things firmly… (Interview 2016, aged 85)
Mary described how her life had changed in the 20 years between interviews:
After 13 years I left my employment when I got married and went to live in the country.
I have since re-joined (that same employment) and moved back to Melbourne as now I’m
not married… Other than that, single, happy, new property, new house. (Interview 2016,
aged 57)
Generation 3 (2016)
Fiona’s daughter
Oliva went to the same secondary school as her Mum and now attends a Catholic
higher education institution.
I went to Star of the Sea (like my Mum) and I’m now at Australian Catholic University
[ACU] doing speech pathology. I’m only first year. I loved school. I was one of those
students that just really loved it. I don’t know whether that came from having a teacher as a
mum, but it was always a really positive environment to be in. (Interview 2016, aged 19)
Family E
In 1995, I had a conversation with Francis and her twin daughters Anne and Helen
at Francis’ home. Anne and Helen, who are twins, were a year behind me at school.
Twenty years on, early one morning in February 2016, we continued our conver-
sation and Helen’s daughter, Emily joined us. We were at Helen’s home.
Generation 1
Francis shared her love of family and work.
I worked as a therapy radiographer at the Peter McCallum clinic until after I was married
when I quickly produced twin girls… About two years later I had a baby boy and another
two years later I had another baby boy. (Interview 1995, aged 58)
Francis commented one how life had changed in the 20 years between interviews.
My life has, changed a lot family-wise… we really enjoy the grandchildren. We go to South
Gippsland a lot more (where my daughter lives). Twenty years ago, I would’ve just been
still working. I think I retired in 1999. I really enjoyed working, I loved it, I loved the whole
atmosphere of the school (I worked at) …. I took it into my own head that I was getting old,
so I should retire but then for ages I thought ‘Why did I do that?’ (Interview 2016, aged 79)
Generation 2
Anne talked about the impact of a Catholic education.
I’m the elder of twins by nine minutes. I went to a Catholic primary school, a Catholic
secondary school and a Catholic teacher’s college. But I feel that I must have had my ears
closed most of the time because I don’t know that I learnt a great deal about Catholicism.
But I certainly had a good time at the various institutions. (Interview 1995, aged 35)
In the second phase interview, Anne spoke of the importance of family and friends
in her life.
I’ve been tucked away in South Gippsland for the last 20 years and working on and off at
the same school …I have two sons. I probably had both those sons I think when we last
spoke. They were young, they were under five. The people that I mix with now are my
support people I suppose, my friends, people I met when the boys were young. I met them
through baby massage and through the CWA sewing craft class. Also, I’ve been supported
by my husband over those years to do some further study. I’ve had a few adventures, travel
230 Appendix A: The Cast
times. I’ve developed an interest in special education particularly students with learning
difficulties. (Interview 2015, aged 55)
Anne mentioned that she is spiritual in that she is open to other people’s belief
systems.
Helen shared her memories of growing up Catholic.
My memories of growing up as a Catholic are fairly positive, growing up in a family where
it wasn’t pushed but it was done in a very subtle way and as mum has already mentioned
her aunt had a very big influence on our lives as well. As she didn’t have any children of her
own she looked upon it that we were her grandchildren. And grandparents as well, mum’s
parents and my father’s mother, my grandmother who was a convert wasn’t she, she
converted. She was very Catholic in her outlook on life. (Interview 1995, aged 35)
Helen talked about continuities in her life in the years between interviews.
So, life has not changed dramatically but for the best, for the better. I’ve since had two
children and I’ve been working. I was working four days a week I think when we last met
and I’ve gone down days since then. I’ve always just done casual employment in nursing…
I see myself as a Christian. (Interview 2015, aged 55)
Emily noted that religious practices are still part of her routine.
Family F
In January 1995, I met with Maria and her twin daughters Joan and Adelaine to talk
about schooldays and family life growing up Catholic. At that stage, both Joan and
Adelaine had young children.
Generation 1
Maria was raised Anglican but became a Catholic when she married.
I’ve been married for nearly 40 years. I'm a lapsed Anglican I suppose if there is such a
thing. However, my husband was fairly sure of his Catholic ideas and just as I was sure of
the Anglican ones. I had two sons first, then twin daughters and then two other daughters.
Appendix A: The Cast 231
I was the middle child in my family growing up in Western Australia in a very strong
Anglican environment… I’ve been employed until last year [as a nurse]. (Interview 1995,
aged 61)
Generation 2
Joan, a twin, commented on her conservative positioning in society.
I’m the older twin… I remember my childhood as very happy. I think I cruised through
most things in life… I enjoyed school very much because I think it came easily to me.
I liked the way that I went to a Catholic school and I don’t know what it would have been
like had I not gone to a Catholic school or had gone to a co-ed school… I’ve turned out to
be a model of society, just slotted into a non-radical position which frustrates me no end.
(Interview 1995, aged 35)
Joan and I chatted over the phone about what had happened over the past 20 years.
I have four almost grown-up children. I have not been in paid employment for a long time,
mainly because I have a daughter who’s turning 21 and she has Downs Syndrome, and she
has a lot of special needs… I’ve got a group of women who all have children with Downs
Syndrome and that is a very big strong network for me. I met them when my daughter was
less than one in an early intervention program. (Interview 2016, aged 57)
Family G
In 1995, I visited Meg at her home, and we talked about growing up Catholic and
the mother–daughter relationship. A few months later, Trish who was living in
South Gippsland tape-recorded responses to the first set of interview questions and
posted them to me. She decided to be interviewed separately from her mother. In
2016, Trish was living on the north coast of New South Wales. Trish and Rosie, her
daughter participated in a Skype interview. In early 2018, I visited them in NSW to
continue the conversation.
Generation 1
Meg grew up in East Gippsland in a small country town.
I’ve been married since 1942. I was married during the war. My husband… was on his way
through to New Guinea so we got married in St Patrick’s Cathedral… During the time (he
was home from New Guinea) we got a chance to buy the house which we still live in… I’ve
had four children… the eldest is a Presentation nun. (Interview 1995, aged 76)
232 Appendix A: The Cast
Meg died in 2001 and is remembered for the solace she found in praying to Mary,
the mother of Jesus.
Generation 2
Trish talked about her early years and the changes she has experienced in her
working life:
I was quite a bit younger (than my siblings) and always felt quite a bit younger than
everyone else in the family… I taught for over ten years (mainly in a rural area) and then
the government offered a redundancy package… I liked teaching, but I left it. So, since I’ve
stopped teaching… I’ve started up a very small lawn-mowing and gardening business…
I’m 35 and not yet married… I’ll see what happens in the future. (Interview 1995, aged 35
years)
Trish spoke of her move to a seaside village in the Northern Rivers of New South
Wales:
Now I live in … New South Wales with my husband, my daughter and my son… I got
married, must be 19 years ago. So that was a big change, and then I had two babies pretty
soon after that. For most of the time I was a stay at home mum with my children. That was
really until my husband wanted to move to New South Wales, and he bought a … business
that we could work in together, so I started working with him on that. He has since sold
that, and I'm returning to casual teaching which was my original profession. (Interview
2016, aged 56)
Trish in both interviews had strong memories of her devout Catholic upbringing.
Generation 3
Rosie was completing secondary school at the time of the interview:
I’m in year 12, my last year. It’s pretty stressful. I find it (school) enjoyable most of the time
because I get along with most people at school and the teachers and everyone, and I do
pretty well in school… It’s a Catholic school… I know I’m a Catholic … but I’m not like a
big Catholic. (Interview 2016, aged 18)
Rosie is now studying teacher education at a rural university in New South Wales.
Family H
Nadia and her husband in retirement moved to a coastal area outside of Melbourne.
In December 1994, she was interviewed with her daughters Pam and Cilla. Some
years later, Cilla shifted to the same coastal area and in 2016 was re-interviewed
with her sister Pam linking in via skype. Later in 2016, Pam and Cilla’s niece was
interviewed at her workplace at a National Park on the southernmost part of the
Australian mainland.
Appendix A: The Cast 233
Generation 1
Nadia spoke of the many roles she has had throughout her life:
I’ve been a house-wife, mother (of five daughters) and worker up until two years ago, a
full-time worker. I’m now retired and filling my life with all sorts of things I haven’t been
able to do before… and trying to make a retirement home which has been a great trauma.
(Interview 1994, aged 69)
Sadly, Nadia passed away in July of 2018 during the final stages of the writing
of this book. Nadia is remembered for her love of adventure and the environment.
She passed this love onto her daughters and grandchildren.
Generation 2
Pam has taught in a range of remote and rural areas:
I’m first in the family…I’m nearly 40 (laughs)… We were made to go to confession every
week at school. I can’t believe that people think that kids are sinners… I teach adult
Aboriginal people as part of an Aboriginal teacher adult education program and I live in one
of the north of South Australia. (Interview 1994, aged 39)
Cilla, following in her mother’s footsteps has a passion for the environment.
Generation 3 (2016)
Niece of Pam and Cilla
Debra went to boarding school in India for a period of time with Anne (the
researcher’s) nieces Melissa, Neera and Claire. During the time of the interview,
she was working and living in a National Park area of Victoria:
234 Appendix A: The Cast
I went to boarding school in India for maybe four years. It’s an international boarding
school and then I came back to Australia and went to an all girls’ school for three years and
then a private school…I don’t have a certain religion… At this stage I have no idea what I
want to believe or not… I’m a firefighter over summer. So, I work six months a year and six
months off. (Interview 2016, aged 29)
Family I
Peg and two of her four daughters Kate and Fleur were interviewed at the family
home in 1995. In the autumn of 2016, we reconvened at Fleur’s home and Kate’s
daughter Lucy and Fleur’s daughter Genevieve joined us.
Generation 1
Peg was raised Catholic. Between interviews she became a widow and moved to an
apartment and took up a range of activities.
I’m the only daughter of some country people from the Upper Murray region of Victoria…
I became a dental nurse… I was a very strict Anglican… and I really took I suppose three
years to decide that I’d marry (my husband – a Catholic) … After we were married we
came here to this house and twelve months almost to the day my eldest daughter arrived.
And then (another) came along and it just went on and on… but I’m happy. We have six
children. (Interview 1995, aged 64)
In the second interview Peg described some of the activities she had taken up in
recent years.
I live in an apartment, which is very close to all sorts of shops and things. I try to keep as
busy as I can. I go to two U3A classes a week. I’m doing a biology course and a greeting
card making course. I’ve done Italian for quite a few years. I go to exercise class once a
week. I cook every day for myself. I love cooking – not like a lot of people who say they
can’t be bothered cooking. (Interview 2016, aged 85)
Peg passed away in December 2017 during the writing of the book. Peg is
remembered for the deep love she had for her family.
Generation 2
Kate when interviewed the first time had an 8-week-old baby girl named Lucy.
I’m married, and I have two children a boy… and a girl Lucy. I married three years ago…
Unlike mum I don’t seem to cope as well with my children as she coped with hers… I guess
I can appreciate a lot of how it must have been for mum particularly with no family in
Melbourne… How good it is to have a mother to ring up or who rings you up daily, who
you can talk to. It must have been really hard to not have a mother that you can talk to at
those times. And I suppose in some ways I’ve even got closer to you mum. (Interview
1995, aged 35)
The second interview took place when Lucy was 21 years of age.
I still live at home with my two children – Lucy and her older brother who’s 23, and my
husband…I work as a practice manager for two dental specialists … I’ve been there for
Appendix A: The Cast 235
approximately 17 or 18 years. I’m planning on retiring in the next two to three years, with
the transition to retirement starting at Christmas time. (Interview 2016, 56 years)
Kate is planning a five-month trip overseas with her husband to celebrate her 60th
birthday.
Fleur reminisced about her growing up years.
Well, I’m number five child. I have very good memories of a happy childhood.
I particularly remember the holidays…we’d have a lot of fun down at the beach. I think also
we were very lucky to have had the opportunity to go to the school that we went to… After
school, I did a few different things. I did a secretarial course…(I) would take off and do a bit
of travelling and come back and work… Then when I returned the last time I decided it was
time to do something different and followed in my sister’s foot-steps and went and did a
recreation course. (Interview 1995, aged 31)
Fleur was raising three children and had retrained as a primary school teacher at the
time of the second interview.
I’ve got three children at home. Genevieve is the eldest – she’s 15 going on 16 – (a son
who) is thirteen, and (another son who) is 11. I’m … divorced, so I live on my own, and the
kids are with me mostly, although Genevieve is not with me all the time. I am a teacher.
I work full-time in a primary school. I retrained about five years ago and did my Diploma of
Education in primary education and work at a local Catholic primary school. (Interview
2016, aged 52)
Fleur spoke of the strong bond she has with her sisters.
Generation 3 (2016)
Kate’s daughter
Lucy spoke about how she realised she is capable of being a teacher.
I went to Catholic secondary school, and I didn’t go to Catholic primary school… I
generally liked being at a Catholic girls’ school. I’m getting towards the end of my
(teaching) degree… I’ve realised that I could be a teacher and that I do have potential to be
a teacher. I do enjoy it… (I hope to) do a bit of travelling and experience the world.
(Interview 2016, aged 21)
Fleur’s daughter
Genevieve talked about the religious education activities she was involved in at
Catholic secondary school.
I’m at a (Catholic girls’) college. I’m the oldest of three children. I’m outgoing. I try to
study hard…We’ve just finished doing the Eucharist which we had to do a project on…It’s
part of the Mass where you receive the body and blood of Christ through the form of bread
and wine. We do (social issues) in another subject in ‘Bridges’… I don’t know how to
explain it. It’s a series of four minor subjects; Bridges to Country, Bridges to Change,
Bridges to City and Bridges to Community and then we do community service. (Interview
2016, aged 15)
Genevieve is now in her senior secondary schooling years and working part time.
236 Appendix A: The Cast
Family J
Both interviews with Audrey and Andrea took place at Audrey’s home. Many
momentous events had taken place in these women’s lives in between interviews
including the death of Audrey’s husband.
Generation 1
Audrey talked about getting married and having children.
Well, I’m in the 60 + bracket, that’s what they call it; specifically, I’m 64… I married and
of course found myself with a large family very quickly (six children) … I think becoming
a Catholic was really not so much a personal thing at that stage (when I married) as it was
that I felt I should for a marriage and that was that. (Interview1995, aged 64)
Audrey described a number of significant changes that happened in her life between
interviews.
My circumstances have changed considerably seeing my husband died it will be three years
ago this November, but we’ve lived here for about 15 years, quite a long time. He originally
lived in Brighton by the beach and always wanted to come back, so we were fortunate
enough to find this when all the family had moved out. It’s just small but very comfortable
or it was for the two of us until he took ill and he was ill for some years… We’ve
redecorated this place and I feel now that it's my home. (Interview 2016, aged 85)
Audrey loves to have all her children and grandchildren around her.
Generation 2
Andrea commented on the contradictions of growing up Catholic.
I was fifth of six children, four boys, one girl … I no longer go to Mass, but a Catholic
education had a big influence over me… My memories of growing up Catholic are the nuns
who scared me and if I think about what they tried to teach me I now think it’s quite cruel.
Things like you’ll go to hell if you don’t do this and that idea of punishment and you’re
born with sin. But as a child growing up it was a great atmosphere because I had a lot of
friends. I guess they were all Catholic and that was a shock when I left the Catholic
education system and went to university. There were a lot of people out there who weren’t
Catholic and looked at us differently. (Interview 1995, 37 years)
Andrea spoke of changes in the extended family during the past 20 years.
And in the last 20 years it’s just been work and quite a lot of travel. Probably a bit of a
difference is I now use two crutches; … so that’s been a change but a gradual change. The
other probably big difference with family is that all my nieces and nephews are now so
much older, and we also have some new nieces and nephews and the new generation
starting; mum’s great granddaughter. (Interview 2016, aged 56)
Andrea works in palliative care and enjoys the company of her Tibetan Mastiff dog.
Appendix A: The Cast 237
Family K
In 1995, Agatha and her three daughters were interviewed at the family home.
Many poignant memories were shared of growing up Catholic. The family did not
participate in the second phase of interviewing but still wished to be part of the
book project.
Generation 1
Agatha described her early years.
I was one of five children, I was in the middle and born into a pretty strong Catholic
back-ground… I was the shy one of the family… not very self-assertive.… I had a very
normal childhood, happy childhood…I suppose Presentation nuns had quite an impact on
my life although my parents would have had a greater influence on my life… When I left
school, Dad suggested I do a course at Burroughs business college which I quite enjoyed.
I got a job through that college. I worked for the Board of Works and I was there for eleven
years. I met my husband when I was 21 on a picnic. Seven years later he asked me out, he
thought I was going steady with another guy at the time. (Interview 1995, aged 66)
Agatha passed away in 2011. She is remembered for her deep faith which was
shown in her love for reciting the rosary.
Generation 2
Marie shared the story of how she told her mother she no longer went to mass.
I think particularly in those younger years when you start growing up, you’re open to a lot
more influence and you can be swayed a lot more easily. That’s why I think a Catholic
school is preferable not so much because of the Catholic aspect of it but because of the
Christian environment and the sense of being a good person is really important… I don’t
know if I imagined it, I might need to be reminded, I remember when I said [to my mother]
I’m not going to mass… and you said, ‘I’ve failed as a Catholic parent’. (Interview 1995,
aged 36)
That sense of belonging and that unity. I look back on now. I really wonder what single-sex
education was about. Probably once I’d left Star, where I’d been really sheltered because
I’d only mixed with Star girls and probably Xavier boys in forms five and six… Then I
went to tertiary studies and that was where I started really thinking because that was like a
whole new world. I did a Bachelor of Arts and it really hit me so much. (Interview 1995,
aged 31)
Conclusion
The stories and photographs exemplify slippage between chronological age and
roles: mother/daughter/grandmother. One of the ways in which the photos and
stories connect generations of women is as daughters, as they represent the site of
women who mother as still being locatable within the role of daughter. That is, the
maternal lineage has no beginning and no end as women who mother are still
positioned on this continuum as daughters (Lucas, 1998).
While the biographies in this chapter are brief, it is hoped that the reader through
these introductions, begins to gain insight into the multi-layered lives of these
women. The situated, subjugated standpoints of these mothers and daughters offer a
partial and context-specific perspective on growing up female and Catholic. The
chapters in this book uncover part of the silenced feminine principles of these
women, and the self-constructed practices by which they create a space to affirm the
‘maternal’ and the feminine’ within the confines of Catholicism. This collation of
stories represents the ‘well-lived’ lives of an ordinary yet extraordinary group of
Catholic mothers and daughters.
References
Hirsch, M. (1997). Family frames: Photography, narrative and postmemory. Cambridge &
London: Harvard University Press.
Keary, A. (2013). De/Composing Gran’s photo album. Cultural Studies, 27(6), 955–981.
Lucas, R. (1998). Telling maternity: Mothers and daughters in recent women’s fiction.
Australian Feminist Studies, 13(27), 35–46.
Appendix B: Methodology
The amalgamation of interviews gives length and distance to insights about the
grand/mother-daughter relationship as it is experienced and lived. The second phase
of interviews provided moments of reflection that may entail ‘setting the record
straight’. Similarly, to Hanisch (1969) and Miller (2015) the interviews, especially
in the second phase were commented on by some interviewees in terms of their
‘therapeutic’ nature. The intertwined stories about lived experiences, told at times in
contradictory and edited ways, and from various perspectives are tales of
mother-daughter relationships that elucidate subjectivity as dynamic and reflexive.
They are unfolding, personal tales that disclose fragile selves in which central and
familiar features of subjectivity are edited and re-told over time (Thomson, 2009).
The stories have twists and turns, are messy and negotiated.
As claimed in the initial study a strength, but also a limitation is that some of the
mother–daughter stories were told but many stories have been left unstated or
revealed in self-edited states. As the author of the text, I have chosen to include or
exclude material based on its usefulness to the theoretical analysis of the study. This
feminist study does not purport to tell the whole, complete, ‘real’ story but rather
offers an understanding of the ‘partial truths’ and perspectived local and contextual
knowledge of women (Stacey, 1988). Along with Whitford (1994), my intention is
that the reader engages with the text. This engagement implies that readers con-
struct their own subtext that at strategic and relevant moments can shift from a
constructionist to an essentialist reading of ‘woman’. The aim of engagement with
the text is that there can momentarily be a conceptual emergence of women’s
historical lived-material conditions.
Key issues for this type of study are consent, confidentiality, anonymity and the
misrepresentation of lived experiences through repeated interview phases. The
second phase of the research underwent a Monash University Human Ethics
review. The notion of anonymity can be problematic in auto/biographical research
and many research participants are identified as they wanted their real names to be
used while others chose pseudonyms in an attempt to maintain anonymity.
In both phases of the study, the interviews were informal and took a conver-
sational mode. For the second phase, the three generations were interviewed
together when possible but due to other commitments and the size of the interview
group at times small group interviews were conducted. Most interviews were
conducted face to face. In the first phase of the study, a daughter requested to be
interviewed separately from her mother, so she could speak more openly. Most
interviews were conducted face to face but in phase one, the questions were mailed
to one research participant as she lived in a rural area. She audio-taped her
responses and mailed the tape to the researcher. My mother, three sisters and myself
took part in a two-hour teleconference in 1995. Unfortunately, the teleconference
failed to be taped by the telecommunications company. However, this conversation
informed the analysis. Some interviewees in phase two participated via phone and
online platforms. The interviews were audio-recorded. They were 30–90 min in
duration. At times, repeat interviews and consultation occurred to clarify and elu-
cidate interview data.
Appendix B: Methodology 241
Transcripts of all interviews were returned to participants for perusal and edi-
torial consideration. I was available personally, via email, phone or Skype to dis-
cuss interviews with the girls and the women. The daughter and mother who were
interviewed separately shared their transcripts with each other. In phase one of the
study, one member of Generation 1 edited the transcript for grammatical correctness
and another Generation 1 participant edited out a small section of the content.
Otherwise, the interview transcripts have remained intact. A number of participants
read draft chapters and provided feedback about the interpretation of transcripts.
Thematisation occurred at the stage where indicative interview questions were
formulated and when conceptual clarification of the themes were examined. The
thematic focus of the study shaped the subject matter of the interview questions and
influenced what themes took centre stage and what remained in the background.
The interviewees also influenced what was and was not discussed in detail.
Meanings and patterns emerged from multiple readings and analysis of the data
with conceptually informed interpretations (Brinkmann & Kvale, 2015).
Interview transcripts have been condensed and edited for readability and as the
auto/biographical researcher I have contextualised, and embroidered stories based
on my own memories of events. Despite this, the transcript excerpts represent the
words of the girls and women. It is acknowledged that the reader may offer other
interpretations to that of the authors in their reading of these interview transcript
excerpts.
Attrition, the drop-out of research participants in various phases of a study, is a
feature of most qualitative longitudinal studies and is often accounted for in terms
of practicalities and ways of overcoming attrition (Cordon & Millar, 2007). In this
study, all original participants were retraceable but some participants from
Generations 1 and 2 were contacted and for differing reasons chose not to partic-
ipate in the second phase of the study. Longitudinal studies tend to be susceptible to
attrition. Nevertheless, this study has remained robust and has taken on a new
vitality with the introduction of Generation 3 research participants.
A conventional discerning feature of QLR is the way in which temporality is
calculated in the methodology making change a key aspect of the analysis
(Thomson, Plumridge, & Holland, 2003). However, this study was not designed in
its initial iteration as longitudinal research. Yet the notion of change and continuity
was built into the original design in terms of inter-generational relationships and
how these relationships impact on change and continuity across generations of
mothers and daughters. That is, where do the psycho-social lives of mothers and
daughters diverge? How is maternal continuity and discontinuity produced yet
contested in the lived experiences of these women? (Author, 2011).
The second phase of the study provides insights into the interaction between
history, auto/biographies and ‘research time’ (McLeod & Thomson, 2009, p. 77). It
is through the temporal aspects of longitudinal research that the nature of social
change comes to light, the means and tactics employed by people to make and deal
with change in their everyday, and how structural shifts shapes their lives. Through
making time an integral aspect of analysis an increased understanding can be
242 Appendix B: Methodology
gleaned of how the personal and the social, agency and structure, the micro and
macro intertwine and transfigure people’s lives (Neale & Flowerdew, 2003).
Both phases of the research were grounded by a feminist stance because the
research is for and about girls and women. Hirsch & Smith (2002) contend that
‘feminist scholarship has been driven by the desire to redefine culture from the
perspective of women through the retrieval and inclusion of women’s work, stories
and artefacts’ (p. 30). This is not to say that feminist scholarship can be summarised
in a tidy way or drawn together with a common thread. It is diverse and grounded
by a range of fields of inquiry including history, sociology, cultural studies and
psychoanalysis. Any common thread is indistinguishable, tidiness is obscure, and
this kind of scholarship extends flexibly in numerous irregular ways simultaneously
(Mosmann & Rademaker, 2015).
The research was open-ended and intentional and lent itself to a dynamic and
fluid process. A multi-methodological was employed that aimed to disrupt the linear
and logocentric traditional academic genre. Semi-structured interviews, pho-
tographs, memories and cultural artefacts such as diaries, letters and objects passed
between mothers and daughters constituted the data for analysis. The intent of the
research was to tell partial stories and histories which express attitudes, biases,
nuances and personal viewpoints.
QLR interviews provide occasions for research participants, and in this case also,
the interviewer to reflect on and recollect aspects of their lives over time.
Grandmothers, mothers, daughters, sisters, cousins and friends were given the
opportunity to discuss their part in dynamic familial relationships. Bornat &
Bythewy (2012), in relation to their own study on inter-generational relationships
note that ‘By inviting people to talk about their past lives, we were also expecting to
hear accounts that contextualised current situations: they would present family life
within life trajectories, the ageing process, the changing times and events that the
interviewees had lived through’ (p. 292).
Analysing interviews conducted across 20 years can highlight, sanction or dis-
turb the original and provisional interpretations, draw attention to recurrent themes
and motifs in interviewees’ stories in addition to modifications and variations,
suggested continuities or unsettling patterns in emotional and social resources, in
yearnings and dispositions and provide an appreciation of how identities are being
moulded and constructed. This permits identity to be examined as a process and not
just as a cache for one-off viewpoints and transcript excerpts (Thomson & Holland,
2003). In terms of my own maternal family, across the two phases of interviewing,
family stories were left untold, yet at other times revealed and with a degree of
openness. Perhaps, the make up of the interview group influenced what was
revealed or not revealed; maybe it was the particular period in our lives that per-
mitted or did not permit a more emotive stance to be conveyed.
Appendix B: Methodology 243
QLR studies explore social change or processes. Returning to the research scene
requires reflexive interpretations that analyse the recursive elements of sociology as
well as the continual performance of social life. Going back entails knowing that the
social world is dynamic and the researcher’s and research participants’ perspectives
and willingness to talk will be different. O’Reilly (2012) sums it up by saying
‘Constant return visits thus enable a longitudinal and reflexive perspective—a focus
on time, change and interactive process that involves the researcher in the analysis
of interaction’ (p. 532). The fragility yet resilience associated with QLR came
through in the interviews I conducted with my own mother, sisters and niece. It
appears that the ‘when’ of what is permissible to say featured as a characteristic of
our interviews together. Miller (2015) describes this characteristic and the precar-
iousness of interviewing as the: ‘“tenuousness” of selves and selfhood, the ways in
which powerful discourses shape what is felt to be permissible to say (when) and
what remains unspoken, such that earlier theorisations can be confirmed,
re-evaluated and refined’ (p. 300).
In this QLR study, the accrual and intertwining of personal and relational
experiences is a political act. Carol Hanisch (2006) in an article that provides the
background to her original paper contends that revealing a personal struggle can be
seen as ‘navel-gazing’ and ‘personal therapy’ nevertheless ‘individual struggle does
sometimes get us some things’ and ‘we need to always be pushing the envelope’
(p. 2). Combining those individual struggles and forming a women’s movement
such as the one she was involved in during the 60s and 70s for making the personal
political has stood ‘the test of time and experience’ (p. 2). It is suggested that being
political is about having knowledge and a critical voice. The data collected in this
research is a form of knowledge about women’s perceptions and memories of
experiences. By collating and collecting these memories, and positioning them in a
conceptual analysis of social, gendered and religious cultures of the past and present
they become public ‘cultural memories’. These cultural memories have been tested
in real life and like the interview with my sisters and niece deliver surprises of
un/desirable kinds. Hanisch makes connections between personal and political
struggles and theory and writes that:
Political struggle or debate is the key to good political theory. A theory is just a bunch of
words – sometimes interesting to think about, but just words, nevertheless – until it is tested
in real life. Many a theory has delivered surprises, both positive and negative, when an
attempt has been made to put it into practice (p. 2).
The issue with making the personal political in a QLR forum is that it is difficult
to know when to stop. In this instance, I have never left the social world of many of
the research participants and ‘when to stop’ is a nebulous question while
researching from an auto/biographical feminist stance. Yet, I know the conversation
does and will continue in a range of ways.
244 Appendix B: Methodology
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Index
E Girls’ education, 58
Early twentieth century, 52 Granddaughters, 122
Education and training, 75 Growing up Catholic, 62
Education qualifications, 100 Guilt, 82
Eligious identification, 126
Employment, 88 H
Employment opportunities, 137 Hierarchy of the church, 171
Ethical issues, 127 Higher education, 81
Ethic of work, 128 Holmes, 141
Ethics, 63, 71, 160 Hope, 10
Everyday life, 152 Horizontal genealogies, 52
Everyday practices, 9
Examen prayer, 67 I
Extended family, 116 Identity construction, 132
Imagined future, 157
F Insider, 12
Faith, 15, 161 Intergenerational changes, 62
Familial relationships, 156 Intergenerational conversations, 4
Family, 88 Intergenerational experiences, 19
Family caring, 113 Intergenerational narratives, 23
Family histories, 138 Intergenerational relations, 128
Family home, 31 Intergenerational relationships, 18
Family photograph, 55 Intergenerational transmission, 132
Female friendships, 52 Interpretation, 14
Female relations, 205 Irigaray, 5
Female rituals, 193
Feminism, 5 J
Feminist historical narrative, 24 Journal entry, 141
Feminist identity, 190
Feminist methods, 12 K
Feminist movement, 120 Knowledge and communicative things, 195
Feminist perspectives, 15 Kristeva, 64
Feminist politics, 190 Kuhn, 6
Feminist scholarship, 4, 83
Feminist space, 185 L
Feminist theology, 15 Labour market, 79
Financial independence, 149 Lay Catholics, 11
Financial security, 137 Letter, 145, 195
First holy communion, 65 Lies, 163
Friendship, 34, 53, 143 Life course, 116, 139
Further study, 75, 140 Life journeys, 113, 137
Life stages, 129
G Longitudinal, 15
Gap year, 139 Longitudinal intergenerational, 118
Garden, 31, 204 Longitudinal project, 201
Gender, 6
Gender and mobility, 122 M
Gendered practices, 193 Marriage, 88
Gendered religious identity, 71 Mary MacKillop, 165
Gender politics, 167 Maternal debt, 70
Generation, 118 Maternal forebears, 155
Generational transmission, 129 Maternal genealogy, 17, 39, 55, 206
Geographic mobility, 100, 137 Maternal heritage, 55
Index 247
Maternal history, 3, 42 Q
Maternal identities, 156 Qualitative longitudinal, 4
Maternal labour, 15
Maternal lineage, 47, 55 R
Maternal memories, 5 Reflexive, 79, 140
Maternal past, 55 Relational selves, 25
Maternity, 51, 70 Relational sense of self, 152
Matrilineal genealogy, 3 Relationship with the Catholic church, 166
Megan’s Law, 175 Religious conditions, 151
Memorabilia, 179, 185 Religious doctrine, 59
Memories, 180 Religious education, 70, 125
Memory-work, 24 Religious gendered identity, 58
Missionary, 144 Religious identification, 9, 58
Mobility, 149 Religious identity, 7
Modesty, 82 Religious order, 78
Morality, 160 Religious pedagogy, 59
Morals, 71 Religious practices, 201
Mother–daughter exchanges, 198 Religious principles, 61
Mother–daughter relationship, 3, 99, 179 Religious selves, 39
Mothering, 12 Religious statues, 205
Mothers and daughters, 167 Religious teachers, 147
Multi-methodological, 5 Religious upbringing, 52
Multi-methodological approach, 201 Religious vocation, 78
Responsibility, 83
N Rich, 164
Non-linear pathways, 75 Rituals, 60, 193
Non-linear transitions, 113 Role-modelling, 128
Rosary, 186
O
Oral history, 20, 39, 147 S
Outsider, 12 Sacraments, 71
School leavers, 87
P School to work transitions, 131
Paedophilia, 173 School uniform, 59
Parental expectations, 124 Secondary school, 106
Partial stories, 5 Secrets, 176
Part-time work, 87 Secular, 128
Patriarchal order, 183 Selfie photos, 26
Patriarchy, 167 Sense of identity, 42
Pedagogical ideologies, 17 Sense of self, 10, 128
Personal, 3 Sexual abuse of children, 163
Personal belief systems, 166 Silence, 7, 168
Personal memories, 5 Sisterhood, 17
Photographs, 202 Sisters, 23, 102
Post-education, 95 Social action, 147
Post-school life, 18, 75, 95, 129, 132 Social expectations, 95, 97
Post-school pathways, 137 Socialization, 128
Post-school plans, 140 Social justice, 126
Post-school study, 86, 88, 115 Social mobility, 83
Power, 14 Social positioning, 41
Prayer, 62 Socio-economic status, 102
Private sphere, 41, 46 Spatial identity, 179
Psychosocial, 25 Spiritual ideals, 71, 151
248 Index
Spiritual identities, 70 V
Spirituality, 9, 161 Values, 10, 71
Spiritual memorabilia, 185 Values education, 63
Spiritual principles, 161 Vatican II, 57
St. Anne and Mary, 180 Virgin Mary, 65
Study pathway, 148 Volunteer work, 98, 122
Subjective stories, 23
Subjectivity, 83 W
Woman’s life, 198
T Women’s auto/biography, 23
Temporality, 25, 203 Women’s history, 5, 64, 167, 206
Tertiary education, 84 Women’s lives, 15
Tertiary study, 106 Women’s stories, 202
Training, 75, 88 Work, 75, 88
Transitions, 18, 75, 88, 99 Working life, 95, 128, 130
Transitions to work, 95 Working-mother, 119
Transition to adulthood, 139 Work–life balance, 119
Transmission of attitudes, 128 World-making things, 191
Travel, 79, 140
Y
U Youth employment, 84
University, 81 Youth pathways, 75
Youth studies, 137
Youth unemployment, 80