Ode to Sharon Singleton
We met this pocket rocket red head drama and English Teacher in Yr. 10 at an Inner west Catholic girl’s school.
We had an infamous year beginning with the coco gang and the Jennifer tucker gang being formed in yr. 7! Lord this catholic school was in for some schooling.
We had a staunch loyalty against the teachers but there was a dark side within our year and a tendency to turn on and treat harshly those classmates deemed not worthy of fitting in. I played sport and kept busy to keep away from such attention. I also made friends with the tough girls and outcasts. Keeping them close enough to protect myself and my clique.
Many times, I must say I stood by watching others get bullied, glad it wasn’t me. Unable to speak up for them or change it. This is a very different picture now. I now speak up and defend myself and others at all times.
I was friends with most of the teachers and almost everyone in my year somehow. I learned to share the light of my popularity with those that were on the outskirts when I could.
My first encounter with Ms Singleton was when she took on the mean girls at the Yr. 10 camp. She managed to send home a few of them although not the ring leaders. They were basically being little bitches. Her ability to stand up and be counted and say no to this behaviour stood out for me. She was standing up against these mean girls and sending kids home like it was school holidays, it was good to see. Although a few of the followers were made examples of and I did feel sorry for them.
Ms Sharon Singleton or Singo to those of us who adored her. Five foot nothing with a Sassy walk of confidence and joy. She was a powerhouse, had a wide smile and held a deep wisdom that I was always inspired by and drawn to.
She had a fun group of teacher friends; all the cool teachers and she wasn’t the classic catholic school teacher. She wore docs and loads of colour and by her own admission wasn't the favourite of the hierarchy at the school, although it was hard not to love her. Radical self-acceptance, was what she personified.
Fast forward to 1990 Yr. 11 and I chose Drama as she was going to be teacher. In that drama class she introduced dead poet’s society to us. I was in awe of the concept in the movie encouraging us to make our own way no matter what the establishment says. That life Is precious and to take nothing for granted. The boldness and self-power in standing up for yourself and what Is right.
I was gifted with a natural ability and good level of intelligence. I was coasting along and not doing much study. Off to Parent teacher night where my mum would say to each teacher every time "I don’t have time for anything other than what’s the real news…if you say BUT I’ll leave … and she did. She really would get up thank them and walk off saying as she left, “I told you not to say But!” My Mum was a powerful woman, the mother of 5 kids and would defend us against anyone if we were targeted but on the same hand also scorn us and hold us accountable for our actions, if we were out of line.
In my final Yr. 11 English exam I was given a mark of 49%. I'd been absent a bit and I’d had a few issues with my teacher who was not able to connect or engage with me and was pretty hard on me and judgmental. I felt she looked down her nose at me. I felt intimated and unliked by her. The day before parent teacher night she had thrust my exam paper at me in the playground and walked off. As a result, my Mum had a few questions for her. My Mum was a wordsmith, a gifted speaker and could command large audiences with her brilliant use of the English language. She was the community leader, Aunty and friend who gave all the eulogies, speeches, a gifted storyteller. She was amazing with words and only ever went into a battle, If she knew she had a point to prove and that she was right. She would back herself and I loved watching her in all of these ways.
Picture this
School library
Me, Mum and teacher Mrs K.
Mum slowly asked the following question “can you explain to me why, my 5th child, 5th generation English speaking daughter with above average intelligence has failed her native tongue?” With a stern look of wonderment.
Mrs K is offended straight away and gets flustered as mum turns on the heat, posing “that perhaps it was her teaching, or lack of connection and concern for me that was the problem”. Mrs K gets agitated and loses her train of thought. Mum suggests that perhaps “"this was what happened regularly in my class leaving me with 49%.” My mum was cutting and cool and asked more questions of the teacher, who was unable to answer. Mrs K then started to attack me about my this and that. This didn’t go down well with my Mum who twisted and turned Mrs K inside out.
I was a sobbing mess at this point wanting to fall into the earth as my mum was making a scene.
Mrs K seeing her defeat, stands up flustered waving her arms about and yells “this interview is over”
Mum smirking says “Well darling I see you have really lost control”
Teacher directs Mum and I to Ms Singleton Yr. 11 advisor.
I remember her face and look of concern saying my name and reaching her hands out towards me. She comforts me, Mum explains the teacher has lost it and says “I will not have my daughter placed in that teacher’s classroom again.”
We get home and Mum writes a well-tailored letter one of her Osborne Epistles as she would call them. I spend the remaining days of Yr. 11 in the library while they decide what to do with me. The school offered a solution that meant I would study in the library for the reminder of the term and then I would see Ms Singleton as a tutor 3 times a fortnight in my free periods through the day. I was studying 3-unit Ancient History and 3-unit Geography so had time in the day to see her. All organised and paid for by the school. Big tick from Mum and I felt like I had hit the;
JACKPOT
So…. I go on a trip of a lifetime with this master of the English language. She made me work hard. When we would meet in her tiny office, she would take to my 1000-word essays with a red pen like fury, often saying to me what’s this waffle? “Re write it all again!
and I would
Re write it
&
Re write it
&
Re write it again!
Phew….
In those sacred lessons she taught me about life, work ethic, she shared her wisdom on all things love, loss and growth. She set me off on my inner journey to self-mastery something I have stepped into so much now as an adult. I was in awe of her and she shared many deep and profound experiences with me in her words, deeds and role modelling – particularly her zest for life, the power of possibility and she wrote this on my yr. 12 shirt;
“remember to get down and dance though life”.
I was so nervous and in awe of her each time I stepped into her office, my peers absolutely envied my relationship with her. She was very like Robin Williams in the dead poet’s society. A teacher that took the time to mentor and shape her students lives. She tutored me all through yr. 12 and I was also in her English class. How she made language come alive. The impact on my studies was significant and I topped a few other classes like Ancient history and 3 Unit Geography that year.
In May 1991, my final year of high school, my childhood friend Carmela, whom I had grown up with from when we were babies. My dear friend whom I had lived next door to and shared so much with. My friend I used to sit on the window sill opposite her bedroom and chat for hours with, was tragically killed in a car accident along with her younger cousin Daniel. A crippling grief descended over our homes and it was a huge moment in my life.
I see a picture of myself at the time, down a dark slippery hole. I see Singo’s hand reach into that hole to drag me out. Her influence and love at that time meant I made it through. Experiencing such profound grief at 16, changed the way I looked at life and has actually enriched my life so deeply. She encouraged me to rise from the grief. I chose at the time to honour my friend and make the most out of life as she wouldn’t have the opportunity to do the things I could from now on. I decided to live for 2 people from that time on. Loosing Carmela changed my perspective on life, I decided at that time to stop coasting and to knuckle down so I could get the results and go to Sydney University. I chose to become a High School teacher as Singo had inspired and helped me so much. For 20 years I worked in a High School as a classroom and executive level teacher relieving as a deputy shortly before I left. I was paying it forward, mentoring and supporting students to reach their potential and teaching young ones to navigate the world in honour of Singo’s legacy. There were also many family issues going on that were terribly difficult to navigate in that final year of school.
After Carmela passed away day in, day out, I was studying my ass off.
At the half yearly exams they announced I was ranked 1st in yr. 12 English. Singo did say a few years later that she was quietly smug and glanced over at Mrs K to see her reaction. From 49% to first in my form of about 80 in the General English Course.
It was a tough day when I had to say goodbye to Ms Singo at the end of 1991, she gave me her high school badge with the word captain on it. It was given to me as a gift to represent the pivotal moment in Dead Poets Society when the students stood up to be counted- “Captain my captain”. Was such a bittersweet moment. I was so honoured to be held in such high regard by my hero Singo.
I made it into Sydney University and smashed my results averaging over 80 in each subject in the HSC. Singo as was her nature offered to help me in my first steps at Uni, and invited me to her place to chill and study. She lived in the national park and I saw the impact living in nature had on people and enjoyed her esoteric influence at the time. What a big adjustment it was staring at University!
Singo then moved out of Sydney to start a family with her hubby. I finished my studies with a bachelor of Education completed a thesis and graduated with Honours Class 1. I made it onto the Deans Scholar list in 1995 for academic achievement and was the first member of my university class to be offered a targeted grad position with the DET upon graduation. She certainly helped me find my academic muscle.
Over the years my lifelong friend Emma who had also been mentored by Singo and I would look for her name and find her in the phone book= so old school. We would call her every few years to everyone’s delight. She also always used to call us by our first and surnames! Something like this, “Emma Russo and Lynda Osborne what are you ratbags up to? Laughter and a deep catch up always ensued. She had a way that made us feel seen and valued.
Fast forward to Facebook times and I found her profile after 2010.
I was facing some tough challenges with a bullying and harassment case from a fellow teacher in my position as Head Teacher of PDHPE.
When we connected via social media, she invited me to visit her if I was ever near Murwillumbah. I saw on Facebook she had her own challenges and was undergoing chemotherapy for cancer.
After a family holiday to the gold coast, I went to see her. I walked in the door to find her beaming face, shinning eyes, wide smile and a “how the bloody hell are you Lynda Osborne” in her rusty Australian accent. My heart drops as I could see very quickly she was in the final stages of cancer.
“Bugger” I said. “Bugger “she replied.
We had an instant reconnection and familiarity. I guess it came from spending so many hours together in her little office in the back of the science rooms. I offered to her that weekend what I have been gifted with in this life-Loads of LOVE. I spent most of the weekend with her. I poured my love, light and affection into her. I held her, cuddled her, massaging her and sung the 21 Adele album to her while we caught up and reunited. Don’t you remember was one song I remember singing my lungs out to and she was just delighted, resting easy in my arms and warm loving embrace. I asked fellow classmates to send me messages so I could read them to her about her influence on their lives and their love and affection for her. She was blown away. I made sure she knew what a difference she had made and of my own successes with young women as a teacher, mentor, and support to give back and pay forward what she had done with me. My dear friend Jo is one of the top voice over artists in Sydney and she sent a beautiful tribute for me to read to Singo about the impact her teaching and guidance had helped in assisting Jo to carve out a very very successful career.
Her last advice to me was to “drop the backpack” of any old wounds I had with my Mum who had passed away, to drop anything I was holding onto about the past. She was feisty when I told her about my situation at work and encouraged me stand up to the bully at work and of course to call her for support if I needed it.
I did eventually leave teaching as a result of the bullying and harassment, however I worked hard for 5 long years for justice and put due pressure where it mattered so that person could not hurt anyone ever again. I’m happy now in my own business still shinning a light on others lives, teaching, healing and mentoring.
My friend Emma and I flew up the next weekend so Emma could spend time thanking her. Emma let her know the enormous impact she had on her Life. We had the best weekend together. We sat with our Singo, her daughter and husband connecting, crying, laughing and sharing meals and memories.
The next week sadly Singo passed away, fighting all the way, such was her will to live.
Grateful for the timing of our visits with her and a reminder to act now, don’t wait to do things you’re called to do. We never truly know what the future holds. The power is in the now.
I flew up to the funeral with my partner and the whispers around the funeral were that things were changed at the last minute. I saw and reunited with a few past teachers I was fond of. During her funeral I looked though the booklet for who would be delivering the eulogy. I thought it odd at the time that there was no eulogy. I stood there looking around the whole time, watching her best friend, watching for any sign of it. It is the best part of a funeral for me. I’ve been blessed to offer eulogies for my Mum, Dad and close family friends. It Is such an honour and a celebration of our loved ones.
I couldn’t actually believe it, no words for this incredible master of English, Drama and performance. Surely, I thought someone will speak. But no. No words about the fact the church was filled to the brim with people of ALL ages, no words to try and explain the gift that she was to us all. No words to describe her profound impact on thousands of students she had taught. No words about what an incredible mum, wife, daughter, sister, daughter and friend she was. No words about her love of animals and her wild streak and her crazy sense of dress.
I wish I had followed my intuition at the funeral. Surely, I thought she wouldn’t want it like this. I wish I had been more bold, brave and thought less about what a scene I would make. Been a little less respectful and have made a grand gesture to stand up and say “excuse me father it’s god on the phone line and he has a few words of say about Sharon”. Just like they did in Dead Poet’s Society.
Sometimes we can’t do the things, then it opens up and we can.
This is my way of now doing that.
I work on not holding onto regret. I believe we can always do what we wished we could have done at any time. I believe in the power that Now, right now brings to us all. I’m so grateful Emma and I were blessed to be there for her in those last few weeks to offer her what we had to give, our love, laughter and gratitude. I’m so grateful for being gifted those moments in time with her.
I write this memoire to honour her contribution to my life and all the others she had a huge positive impact on. I write this to share how one person who shows up for another fully can have such a deep profound effect on lives so that it echoes into eternity. Singo’s legacy courses through me and I’m so bloody grateful my mum stood up for me that night so that I could experience such a powerful journey in this life with Singo.
I call all of you who read this to be a shining example of Singos love, light and tenacity to change this world for the better. I call on you all to share your stories and gifts with one another.
I send my love to her daughter Alicia who I hope knows what an inspirational woman her Muma was for me and so many others x Also to all of Sharon’s Family and friends who miss her but are guided by her love every day. xox
With so much love,
Lynda Millin Osborne
Cockatoo Dreaming