BY ASHLEY HULL
I never anticipated the journey of discovering who I am as a woman to be so simultaneously challenging and fulfilling.
From daughter to wife, student to teacher, mother to superwoman, it was easy to define myself based on my relationship to others and to definable roles. And then I turned 30.
Someone shared recently with me that decade birthdays offer natural transitions and transformations. My case was no exception. Being elected as a school board trustee highlighted for me once again my long-standing passion for education. Sparked with a more clearly defined purpose, I finally felt ready to act on what I knew I wanted, which was to go back to school and work toward a Master’s degree.
Trusting myself and my ability as a formal learner required more confidence than I had ever needed in my life to this point. But that leap of faith wasn’t my last. I successfully received a scholarship through the University of Calgary to intern with a rural enhancement agency in India. As much as this was a dream of mine from childhood, leaving my partner, family and community responsibilities seemed exotically reckless. But then again, what are three months over a life-time? I had to honor the fact that I worked hard to achieve something momentous in my life and that I had something to offer the village women who I would be assigned to work with. I deserved it. They deserved it. We could all learn from it.
We hear statistics all the time regarding the conditions of health, sanitation and education in developing nations. Seeing it first hand is an unforgettable learning experience. In the region I worked, agriculture is the main source of family income, which meant that schools are often quite distant and the culture remains strongly embedded in the belief that a girl is secondary in priority to educate.
UNIVERSITY OF CALGARY AT INDIA: Ashley Hull, top centre, left her Townsite home for a semester abroad, pursuing her Masters of Education degree.
In this context, functional literacy is defined by the ability to read 2-3 words per minute. Most of the village women I met, ranging in age from 15 to 60, had just recently acquired this basic foundational level. In one instance, a struggling learner read aloud a paragraph’s worth of text. Upon her completion, the room erupted in celebration as her classmates attempted to explain to me, in Hindi, about how just a few months prior this young woman lacked the ability to read letters, let alone words or sentences.
I witnessed the communal pride of learning idealized of in the western educational setting in the most backwards region of rural India. I was humbled and inspired. Women supporting women. They affectionately spoke about learning from one another, sharing with and supporting their fellow class sisters. When one woman’s husband didn’t agree with the concept of his wife being educated, 15 persuasive and passionate women showed up at the door to convince him otherwise. Another woman spoke about the transformative process her education has had on her household: additional piecemeal work was picked up in order to send their youngest child, a daughter, to English medium school.
In those moments, the obvious thread that connected my educational journey to this point was one of reverence for my sisters, near and far. Our struggles as women are unique and our stories individual, but there is a deep connection that pulls us to celebrate our communal successes. We aim to see the next generation of women rise with greater confidence in the divine uniqueness of femininity and the knowledge that their immense contributions are worthwhile and important to the society we are trying to build. Women supporting women. Education is key in this journey.
I was once asked how I could leave my kids for so long; the answer surprised even me as I shared it: I have to go. I have to show my children, especially my four daughters, that they can pursue their dreams at any stage of their lives.
Through this experience I discovered a new motto: embrace and simultaneously use fear and faith. I hope my children follow, because alongside all the discomfort and trials, beauty and meaning are there too. If we take the time to learn from it.
Life is our greatest teacher, which is why I’m sure 40 will be even more incredible.
