Retiring Diocesan School for Girls principal Heather McRae on women in education and public v private schools

What have you learned there?

I’ve learned about the power of education for women by women. I see the difference in how girls learn when they’re not constantly being judged by the opposite gender, especially through those middle and secondary years.

I see the girls are empowered around leadership. Achievement levels are way higher in girls’ schools, whether they are private or state.

How tough were your first years at Dio?

We were overstaffed. The global financial crisis kicked in in 2007, and the roll started dropping because of the cost of fees. We couldn’t cut staff because everyone was on permanent contracts.

I took a drastic step and did a redundancy round. I was able to introduce some fixed-term contracts and the ability to grow or shrink, so that the school could always be staffed according to the student numbers, and not stuck like it had been.

I made the wild promise I’d do it once and never again, and I’ve kept the promise.

What do you see as the main difference between state and private school education?

Not everyone at Dio is wealthy. We represent all of Auckland. Some parents feel that the academic rigour at private schools is at a higher level.

The thing here is that everyone wants to learn. In my previous schools – Pakuranga College and Fraser High School – it was harder.

At a private school, you have the ability to set your own vision and make it happen. You need to find the money, which is never easy, but we’ve borrowed, we’ve paid back. Here, everyone has a say in where that money goes.

In the state system, I think it does get filtered down through all the different organisations.

Why are you leaving?

Well, because I’m 70. There’s a time when a school needs fresh leadership, fresh eyes to see different things, and different innovations. I’m feeling this is a good time. It’s been a blast.

What advice do you have for parents?

I think one of the most important things is for parents to show love to their children. Nothing replaces giving them time and love, and I feel our busy societies have sometimes delegated that to other people.

These are complicated times. You began teaching long before social media, when we hadn’t even heard of trolling.

There were still mean girls. If mean girls affect anybody in our school, we’ll call it, whether it happens outside school or not. And, at school, we are device-free. No phones, no smart watches.

What are your thoughts about AI in education?

Children are adopting it faster than social media, and we must be ahead of that wave. When we lose the ability to think, and when kids use AI to write essays, they are less engaged with the content and don’t learn from it.

What advice would you give a young teacher starting out?

One of the most valuable things we can do for society is to help young people know the world around them and how to serve others. Life’s not just about what you want for yourself, but how good you make other people feel around you.

You’ve had a long career, becoming a teacher in 1978. How has education changed?

It’s become more structured. I remember the days the principal would ask the students, “How is she doing?” And the kids would say, “Yeah, she’s good, she’s choice,” and that was it. There was no checking back in those days.

There’s a lot more structure now around teacher performance, the expectations of the profession. Those things are good if we never lose the sense of humanity that drives teaching. It is all about relationships.

You used to be on the National Curriculum Advisory Group for the Ministry of Education. What do you think of the Government’s new draft curriculum?

Teachers can now plan more easily. It’s much more explicit and therefore takes a lot less teacher time to unpack it compared to the, you know, eight levels across 13 year levels. This curriculum hasn’t left it to chance - it’s more specific. I would rather have things spelled out than not.

175 of 178 school leavers left Dio last year with NCEA Level 3. How did you do it?

School has to be a place where people feel a sense of identity and there’s a culture of excellence. Offering a very diverse curriculum is key.

A central part of the school is led by Rev Sandy Robertson, who has been outstanding in terms of finding your spiritual self, in whatever way that fits with your families and cultures.

We also encourage students to follow their passions in sport, arts [in] music, choral and orchestral groups. We also have a dual pathway for NCEA and International Baccalaureate so girls can choose.

Your first teaching role was in 1978 at a school unlike Dio – it was at a co-ed school in Hamilton, Fraser High School, and you stayed for four years. What was that like?

The principal, Dave Campbell, was an authoritarian who used to sweep around the school in his black gown and kept a collection of canes in his cupboard. He told me I needed a challenge and assigned me to teach 4C. They were all over the show, uniform was a mess.

It was a lightbulb moment when I learned that half your curriculum walks in the door. They wanted to talk about sex, drugs and alcohol. One boy from a gang family was keen on motorbikes, so we found an old 125cc bike at the dump and ... brought tools to fix it.

One of the young men had glue ear, [so] I took him to the doctor. I learned about their lives, where they came from, what they needed. I learned as well. It made me far more caring.

Tell me about your background growing up in rural Eketāhuna.

I loved being raised on a farm. You see life as it comes and goes, and I think that’s where my passion for science began.

I was into anything physical: running, athletics, netball. I learned to play rugby with my two brothers and the boys next door; I was the halfback. Mum was a bit sceptical about whether I’d grow up to be a sensible woman.

Dad took me to the rifle club and got down beside me and showed me how to use a .22 rifle. After the boys left home, I bought a nice German Anschutz and became a master-grade shooter.

What was it like being a girl and the youngest?

Mum was motivated about women’s rights, and that rubbed off on me. Her commitment was to make sure we all had great educations.

Dad had a saying I always loved: “One boy is a boy, two boys is half a boy, and three boys is no boy at all.” He only ever took one of us down to the farm with him at a time.

I went through Tararua College, Massey University and did a Bachelor of Science. I double-majored in organic chemistry and biochemistry.

You parted from your first husband and married John in 1995, a former headmaster of Mt Eden Normal Primary school. How many children do you have?

My three children are from my first marriage. Clare lives in Miami, Holly in Auckland, and Blake lives in Huskisson, Australia. I spent a good portion of the 80s being pregnant!

You and John were offered the opportunity to work overseas – you set up a school for the Sultan of Brunei. How did that come about?

I had a background in secondary teaching, and John in primary. In 1989, New Zealand’s education system had undergone a major restructure, and we were both interested in what self-managing schools looked like and their governance. We set up a school in Brunei.

It was fascinating to learn the rules of engagement within a different culture: to be hugely respectful, to dress appropriately and, as a woman, to understand that I would not lead meetings.

The children were from wealthy families, and most of them had an amah or maid who looked after them fulltime. They didn’t know how to button up their shirts or how to unzip their uniforms. It was fascinating when it got to the technology curriculum: cooking and slicing an apple, and things like that, they had never done before.

There are many things right from year zero that make a difference to how resilient children are in the world. Keeping the amahs away from sitting in class and doing everything for the children was quite challenging.

One of my plum jobs there was travelling all around the world to recruit people for those teaching jobs. I went to Canada, New York, Scotland, England, Ireland and Australia.

In 2004, you came home and became an associate principal and then principal at Pakuranga College.

Pakuranga College was lovely – I loved the school, it had wonderful systems and processes. It had a human feel about it. There was a real connection across the school, and we knew where it was going and what we could do for students.

There was a fight after school one day - a girl had a wheel brace and was going to whack some kids with it.

The dad came in and I asked to see him. He said, ‘You know who I am, don’t you?’ and I said, ‘I’m sorry, I have no idea.’

He lifted up his T-shirt to show me a Mongrel Mob tattoo. He had a rather buxom stomach and I thought, ‘OK, well that’s fine, but you’re still a dad, and I want to talk to you as a dad and find out what’s happening with your child.’

The meeting went well. Sometimes being a woman has advantages. You don’t come across as confronting.

How do you feel about leaving Diocesan School for Girls?

Terrible. It’s obviously an emotional time, and yeah, it’s hard to leave, but it’s a good time for the school and me. It was important for me to support the school and community during Covid and the floods.

My dad always said, ‘Make sure, when you have something, you give it back better than it was when you got it.’

Carolyne Meng-Yee is an Auckland-based investigative journalist who won Best Documentary at the Voyager Media Awards. Recently, she was runner-up for Best Editorial Campaign and part of a team that won Best Coverage of a Major News Event: Philip Polkinghorne Murder Trial. She worked for the Herald on Sunday, then rejoined the Herald in 2016 after working as an award-winning current affairs producer at TVNZ’s 60 Minutes, 20/20 and Sunday.