Kristin Papworth thought her life’s course was set — until a conversation with her terminally ill mother changed everything. Compelled by her mum’s wish that she fulfill her ambition and become a teacher, Kristin found the strength to pursue an improbable dream and fulfill a final promise.
“I've always loved children and known I would work with them in some capacity, but uni felt out of reach, as I had my dad’s voice in my head after high school saying, ‘don’t worry about it, don't waste your time,’” Kristin recalls.
“He grew up with this mindset that hard work meant physical labour — long hours, hands-on jobs… he was a mechanic, and that’s what he knew.”
But while her father’s words echoed in her decisions after high school, another voice lingered too, gently encouraging her toward a different path.
“My mum, who was a paramedic, had always told me I should become a teacher,” Kristin says, smiling at the memory.
“She would watch me line up my toys as a kid and pretend to teach them… she always felt that was what I was meant to do.”
With a genuine love of children, Kristin worked in childcare for many years, where the idea of teaching often resurfaced.
“A lot of the mums would say to me, ‘you should become a teacher,’ and it made me think of what my mum always said – but I never seriously considered it... I guess I didn’t think I could do it.”
Then, everything changed.
“Mum found out she was sick, it was ovarian cancer,” Kristin says, the deep-rooted sadness of that memory still evident.
“They got her in for an operation straight away, and the doctors told us she was going to be okay…. but eight days later, she was gone. I knew three days before she died that she really was going, but it was still such a shock.”
In those final days, while she could still speak, Kristin’s mother had one last message for her daughter.
“It was one of the last things we talked about, how worried she was about what I was going to do with my life,” Kristin recalls.
“I guess that says a lot about my mum — right up till her last moment, she was thinking about my son and I, wanting us to have the best life possible. She told me, ‘You can do this, and you should do this.’ She meant teaching.”
Those words stayed with Kristin, becoming something to cling to in the dark days that followed her mother’s passing.
“It was like everything clicked, I just felt compelled to do it… I promised myself I would get to that point where I could put on that green graduation gown and cap and say, ‘I did it, Mum,’ even if she wasn’t there to see me graduate.”
Almost immediately after her mother’s passing, Kristin started looking into university options, and soon enrolled at UniSC in a Bachelor of Education (Early Childhood).
“I think some people thought my timing was a bit strange, but it was what I needed to do – I had to make good on that promise.”
The transition wasn’t easy. Kristin was heartbroken, adjusting to life without her mother, and raising a young child.
“I had just had a baby 12 months before I lost Mum, and that first year of uni was so hard.
“I look back and think, I can’t believe I got through it – I was so emotional, and my mind was all over the place... but I took on a full-time study load anyway, and I managed to get through it, even though I failed a subject.”
Battling grief, and feelings of inadequacy and self-consciousness, Kristin failed a class learning about writing assignments and public speaking.
“My post-baby body felt different than before, and most of my classmates were younger than me – I remember them talking about 1996 as the year they were born, while I was thinking, ‘that’s the year I graduated from school.’ I felt so self-conscious.”
Nonetheless, Kristin wasn’t going to let this setback stop her. She made a mindful effort to show up every day and learn all she could from her classmates and lecturers, gradually gaining skills and confidence.
“It’s just sticking with it… every day you get to know people, they show you little tips, and eventually, you learn more just by being there.”
Soon, she began to find her footing, and by the second year, everything started to “click into place.”
“I felt this connection to Mum, and that vision of being able to say at graduation, ‘I did it,’ kept me going. It may seem such a small thing to some people, but it was everything to me.”
Kristin had two more babies after her mum’s passing, which added the extra challenge of studying while raising young children – now aged two, three, and nine.
“It’s been hard, but my kids are the real reason I’m doing it… I see them role-playing going to uni and it’s very satisfying, as that was never a consideration for me growing up.”
Kristin has never lost sight of why she started. “When I’m with the kids during my prac placement, everything feels right… this really is what I'm supposed to do, and I can see myself doing it forever,” she says.
“I think, ‘Why didn’t I do it earlier?’ I didn’t believe I could do it, I didn’t think I was smart enough to get through uni, but it was Mum’s last words that pushed me forward.”
Kristin credits the amazing support she’s had from her uni teachers who she says, “really want to see us succeed.” It’s something she hopes to pass on when she becomes a teacher.
“I hope I can give my future students – and my own kids – the ability to believe they can do anything, just like my mum believed in me. I want to teach kids you don't have to be the best at everything, or successful, the first time, because learning is a process.”
Now in her last year of uni, with a 2025 April graduation – and the donning of that green cap and gown – getting closer by the day, Kristin carries with her a deep sense of fulfillment, knowing how proud her mum would be that she took her advice and ran with it.
“I wish Mum could be there to see me graduate, but I know she’s with me in spirit. I kept my promise. I did it.”
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