A school, not all that long ago, was a room. A rectangle with a roof. Sweetened with the alluring scent of wet wool and orange peel, HVAC was open or closed windows, a bar heater on the wall, and Summer term offering the (remote) chance of lessons under a tree. And that was pretty much the scene across Australia, from Mosman to Murwillumbah. But that’s not the case now, as schools in regional Australia are being superseded by their classmates.

There are approximately 9,629 schools across Australia, with the majority in New South Wales (3,000) and the least in the ACT (137) – these stats are probably not all that surprising to most of us – but what might make you sit up and pay attention is that just under half of all those NSW schools, and just over half of all the Queensland state schools are in rural or remote areas.

And the disparity continues around the continent. Most kids in K-12 schools are not lucky enough to be in well financed cap city districts, but are in underfunded, under resourced and out of sight locations. For too many children, (and towns) dotted around Australia, the box has remained the design du jour, though hundreds have in fact just shut, and the land sold off.

The problem is even greater. Unlike capital cities, a school is a town anchor, the ‘make it or break it’ of a rural town surviving. A good school attracts families to a town; they open businesses, create employment and spend money at the local supermarket. A school offers a bonding experience for families who may live on an outlying property, with zero neighbours and very little social interaction, bar school events. Lose the school and that whole heartbeat of rural and regional centres, just stops dead.

Louise Martin is Federal President of the Isolated Parents Association, a group that has members right across the continent, all of whom work tirelessly toward equity of access to education for all students who live in rural and remote Australia. She, along with her members have seen too many schools close, and seen also the heartbreaking ripple effects that extend to whole towns

“Schools are the heart and soul of our communities,” says Martin. “For a town to live and thrive you need a good school, and a good health service.”

Without a school communities, do collapse, and too often we see famers leave the land in search of a better future for their kids – very few can afford exorbitant fees for boarding schools. Without the people who grow the grain and the beef and the lamb, city folk will one day feel the effects of a rural education system that’s failing, but right now people seem non-plussed.

A good school doesn’t mean something jaw dropping from desks at the top end of town, it does mean a building that has a sense of place, rather than a sense of 3 - 12 in a penitentiary. It should be a place that beckons students and of course teachers.

Regional schools are desperate to attract teachers. Staff well-being is not the first thought when considering resetting the rural education landscape, but perhaps it should be. Governments, committees and think tanks have been throwing money at the problem for years, offering financial incentives (in the millions) to teachers, to hook them and keep them. It hasn’t worked. It’s the life after school that is falling short, responsible in great part to the revolving door of teachers, and the stop gap measures such as the use of non-teaching but well-meaning staff who fill in the gaps.

Teaching is not a walk in the park experience at the best of times, but working hard, sometimes in multi age classrooms, is particularly challenging. A happy home life is very much the way to balance the experience. It’s all very well to offer accommodation rebates, if there actually is accommodation. But a town with just a couple of hundred kids or less, is unlikely to have a range of places to rent or buy. If life is hard for teachers and their families after hours, then then the joy of teaching is somewhat diminished, and the glow of city lights beckons once more.

Rural locations do have special issues for building; from long distance transport of materials, to difficult terrain. And from a planning point of view, the numbers are hard to tie down. Rural schools have floating enrolments. A rural life is not consistent, families move a lot and growth in the population sector, though growing in merely half of that compared to capital cities.

Needless to say, a school with an enrolment of 100 students cannot expect an Abbotsleigh style library or a Harvard quadrangle – but nor do they want it. But surely designing for a small school offers great opportunities to do something special.

The future of regional education may need some creative thought. Architects and designers and city planners need to really think outside the box, or indeed look back to what has worked in the past, much if it once sourced from the brains of the state government architect’s office.

“I was one of over 100 architects working in various parts of the government,” says Keith Pike of Keith Pike Associates, “At that time there was special section that just designed schools. There was real expertise there that we have lost.”

The Menindee Central School is in the far west of NSW, on the banks of the Darling surrounded by red earth, created 30 years ago, is a poster child for a good design that resonates in the space, and was designed by Pike. Although some things have changed over time, it is an excellent example of what was once a raft of award winning Government Architect projects.

Menindee has a population (as at 2021) of just 537, through the town sign post boasts 980. Menindee is famous for its nearby lakes, and the surrounding deep red earth. The school has a strong sense of this place; reflecting the local colors, the rural aesthetic in low slung corrugated roofs with exposed trusses and swathes of shade, all creating a sympathetic space for students, parents and the wider community to enjoy. The original plan has been added to, without the help of Pike, but none of his buildings, and his original intent, have been lost. The school, by all accounts is thriving.

Without such schools, communities do collapse, and too often we see farmers leave the land in search of a better future for their kids – very few can afford exorbitant fees for boarding schools. Without the people who grow the grain and the beef and the lamb, city folk will one day feel the effects of a rural education system that’s failing, but right now people seem nonplussed.

“My mother (who is 85) says, we haven’t been hungry enough”, says Martin.

Some solutions seem doable says Martin – such as addressing the lack of accommodation.

“I think they should revise the first home buyer grants to include first home buyer renovations. There are a lot of good buildings [that teachers would enjoy], that just need a bathroom or a kitchen, but they need financial assistance to fix them.”

Not helping also is a banking system that sees a rural post code on a mortgage application, and despite the confirmed employment, runs scared.

I floated the idea with Louise about having schools with a ‘reverse boarding school’ approach. Having great living quarters on site for teachers, not students. Rent free. Louise agrees that would help, as principals have been offered homes on site previously with great success.

“The young teachers, well, I think there is actually a great fear factor of ‘going rural’,” observes Martin. “Especially the young teachers.”

Generally speaking there is greater divide than ever between city and country life – visiting relatives on the farm for Summer holidays is now a rare treat. People have less experience of the rural lifestyle while growing up, and are frequently exposed to negative concepts.

“And I don’t think our universities are not adequately training new teachers to cope in a range of scenarios, which includes experiencing rural education,” adds Martin.

What we keep missing in this conversation about rural education, is the fact that the rural land we have is just beautiful, breathtaking, exciting, challenging and ever changing. The clouds are bigger, the magpies louder and the smiles more genuine, and the kids seem, well, happier.

What better reason do we need to keep the heart of Australia beating.

Main image: Menindee Central School / Courtesy of Keith Pike.

Prue Miller

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