School principal in wild red, west
Alex Hunter is greeted by the amusing sight of two young girls clambering onto the back of his Jeep and flashing cheeky grins in the morning light.
The clock is approaching 7am and the pair is already waiting for the principal to begin the daily round-up of their boisterous peers.
Hunter jumps behind the wheel and begins a circuit of the dusty Wurreranginy Indigenous community, located about 130km north of Halls Creek in the remote north of Western Australia.
He drives past rusted car bodies and free-roaming horses, making sure to stop at the gate of each house to beep the horn. He knows the names of the students inside each of the dwellings and smiles broadly as they coming running to pile in the back of the ute.
The excitable kids – aged between four and 14 - are keen for a kick of the football on the community’s small oval, which is already baked in searing sunshine. Sport has been brought forward to the early start because of the extreme heat of the approaching wet season.
It’s just one of the many unique issues the 28-year-old principal of Purnululu Aboriginal Independent Community School has to deal with.
During his three years at the quaint establishment, Hunter has survived a week without running water, sweated through tropical heatwaves without sufficient power to run air conditioners, and become isolated in nearby towns during massive floods.
“At the time it was an adventure for me as a new teacher but after a year this becomes your way of life and conditions needed to improve,’’ Hunter says.
“Fortunately, through some hard work by the former principal, basic services have been brought up to a proper standard.
“The kids have been amazing through it all. The simple things in life make them happy and they are so family orientated. That’s what keeps the community together’’.
Back at the school, the group of 20 students goes through the morning ritual of washing their hands, eyes and teeth and then shuffle off to an Accelerated Literacy lesson, which includes teachings in Kija – their traditional language.
Keeping students fed and hygienic is an important part of Hunter’s role in maintaining good health within local families.
He and three teachers live in private dwellings next to the school, which is the centre of Wurreranginy (or Frog Hollow) - a community of about 50 people.
Hunter, who grew up in the starkly cooler climate of Hobart, says life in the remote community can be hard but he has no immediate desire to return to a mainstream school.
“When I was at university I could never really see myself in a traditional kind of classroom. I really wanted to get my teaching degree and travel to see what other places were like. I didn’t know anything about this area but the opportunity came up and I took it with both hands.
“There’s a certain amount of sacrifice you have to make to your life and I miss a good coffee and a paper,’’ he laughs.
“But being principal from the age of 26 has been pretty cool and you’ve got to love it otherwise it affects the kids. You put your heart and soul into it but you’ve also got to be careful not to burn out. It’s important to go spend time with friends and family during holidays.”
With the constant flow of community members visiting the office during the day, being principal at Purnululu entails much more than running a school.
“It’s definitely not a 9 to 5 job. You can’t come up here trying to get away from the problems in the city or thinking it’s going to be easy. We spend a lot of out-of-hours time with the kids. In the wet season we love to take the kids swimming and fishing and often discover stories about the people and the past around the watering holes of this mob’s country.
“It’s important to spend time with the kids and the community outside of school to understand their culture and way of life and how it has changed.
“I’ve built up really good relationships with most of our community members here. Even with serious issues we can sit and have a yarn and a laugh and sort it out.”
Hunter says he arrived at the school with a three-year plan “that has become a five-year plan, which might end up as a 10-year plan.’’
“A lot of people ask me ‘did you get much of a shock when you first arrived?’ But it was what I expected and it helps that it is a very small and welcoming community.
“It’s just so rewarding to see the steps that these kids take and how much you can play a part in the future of the community.”
He says one of the main issues for indigenous schools is teacher retention.
“Independent schools like this one always have a problem in that we can’t match the pay rates of government schools because we just don’t get as much funding.
“But we offer other things like free accommodation and power, and a flight home each year. The main thing is to ensure that staff members are enjoying the teaching and the community life, otherwise there’s no point being here.
“It’s not for everyone but it’s extremely satisfying if you’re looking for a life-changing experience that these isolated schools provide.”
Daniel Clarke is a freelance writer travelling around Australia. He has worked for The Advertiser and the Leader Group. To contact him email clarked22@hotmail.com
