Content warning: discussion of mental health and mentions of suicideI’m here to share what I wished someone did for me while I was in high school – stressing yourself out and sacrificing your mental health isn’t worth the burn out.
Hello, my name is Lady Shania Richards. I am a twenty-two-year-old Wongutha, Ndgaju, Gubrun, Bulang, Mirning, Barngarla woman with German and British ancestry and I was raised between Kalgoorlie, Port Lincoln, Esperance and Kambalda West.
Going to several different high schools, trying to get the perfect grades wasn’t worth being pushed to the point that suicide seemed my only way out.
Let me explain, in the small country towns I attended high school, we were literally brainwashed into believing that if we didn’t choose the ATAR pathway, we weren’t good enough for university, or a good life for that matter. In fact, it was so common for Indigenous Females to drop out of our school and have children, that teachers told me that was all I had to look forward to, being a young dropkick single mother.
My heart and soul were crushed but I refused to accept defeat.
So, in year eleven I chose the ATAR pathway and tried my hardest to do the best I could. All was good at first, but I was faking my way through since I couldn’t afford the textbooks, even though I spent my weekends working for minimal wage at Maccas.
Money was scarce in my family, being in a single parent household with us four kids. The bills just kept coming out of nowhere, we had enough to survive but were living pay check to pay check. We weren’t dirt poor, but we weren’t strangers to starvation either, sometimes we just had to have sleep for dinner.
But we were happy, we had each other and unconditional love and hope and faith that someday an opportunity would come our way. We were grateful to be alive and create memories and I always tried my best to help support my mother and siblings, even if it meant sacrificing the textbooks price, having a normal social life, and doing activities that cost money.
When exam time came and went, I once again had my heart and soul crushed. Somehow, I had failed. Me, the girl spending 30 hours a week studying and working so hard in society, only to be dragged into the principal’s office and told to drop out so I wouldn’t make the school look bad. It wasn’t personal, just statistically they couldn’t afford me to repeat and fail again.
By the time my mum rocked up, my cheeks were flushed red with rage, and I was prepared to say some honest things, when my eyes betrayed me, and tears poured out. No matter what I said, I had no hope, MY LIFE WAS OFFICALLY OVER. Even though I technically didn’t even finish the year, they didn’t want to take that risk.
I believed that failing ATAR was a death sentence, and I was better off dead. Than to bring dishonour to my family, my culture, and my country.
After having a mental breakdown my mum dropped me off in South Australia to my father’s side of the family, as my depression grew toxic. I summoned the strength to try again once more in the education system. So, mum helped me enrol into a high school and pick out classes. I became excited to live again, another chance to make a better future. Until I was told my previous ATAR credits wouldn’t count, as being interstate and a different system, they didn’t have the classes to transfer the credits into.
My heart sank, as I was kind of hoping to use that as a base to build from, rather than having to start over.
I was too sacred to voice my concerns to either of my parents, and so my mum took off back across the Nullarbour to continue my siblings schooling.
My father tried to be supportive, but we never really saw eye to eye. Culturally his views were accustomed to our people’s core values, whereas mine, however, are more contemporary and have different urbanized beliefs. Things would become tense when he, or his side of the family, found me studying, simply because they feared what they didn’t understand.
The high school here was worse, the segregation was real. I was the only Aboriginal kid in every class besides dance. And even then, no one would sit near me or include me for over a six-month period. After a while I got a bit irritated by the teachers underestimating me and speaking to me like I don’t understand English. It was just insulting. Especially when I realised that all the ATAR classes Mum and I enrolled in weren’t the ones I was given by the school’s timetable.
This whole time I was in general, and boy was I wild. The system doesn’t work. So, I dropped out of that school, and spent the rest of the year researching alternative pathways and soon became the local library’s number one fan.
Of course, my family wasn’t too happy when they found out. Christmas time came, and so did my mum and siblings, ready to pick me up and help me figure out what I’m doing with my life. We returned to WA and because I didn’t want to do TAFE, I did the next best thing.
The high school offered me a role in the Kitchen Operations VET course, and I accepted, still wanting to be more than a statistic.
The year that followed let me witness everyone I grew up with who chose ATAR ended up becoming things I was told I would be if I didn’t follow that pathway. Some were using hard core drugs, others had entered sex work, many died by suicide and others were kids having kids. That’s when I realized the hard way, YOU AREN’T DEFINED BY WHAT YOU GET OUT OF THE SYSTEM.
Your environmental factors determine so much of your experience. You can be set to fail but still succeed. You can be set up for success but still fail. It all matters in what you choose to do with what you have.
Sadly, in our current education system there isn’t enough awareness of mental health, illnesses and how it can impact one’s ability to function as well as learn, and so much of how the system works causes students unnecessary stress.
Also, the pressure from peers, parents and community plays heavily into adding emotional burdens that our fellow youth shouldn’t be stressed fixating upon. Being an adolescent with changing bodies, minds, emotions, and hormones is hard and scary enough.
The pressure of achieving the highest possible ATAR isn’t even realistic, and when you go to university no one walks around bragging about ATAR results, and no one in the real world working in an industry is concerned about that either.
Let me tell you a little secret, you don’t need an ATAR to achieve your dreams. You need self-determination, love, and motivation.
I repeated Year Eleven through VET and once I graduated year 12 with the highest grades and eight certificates, millions of opportunities were presented to me. I also had the chance to explore catering locally while modelling in the first ever Goldfields Girl.
I then went onto study at the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, graduating in Aboriginal Performance as well as being in several short films and theatre productions. After that I started working towards completing a certificate III in Commercial Cookery, with South Metro TAFE & Careers Group Employment and am now studying Singing/Song Writing with Talents.College.
I have also but my hands up, not out, for many volunteering opportunities such as, Festival of the Wind, Thura Yura Resilience Training (Army Training), Passionis Productions (Drama Company), Country Arts SA, NADOIC/GILD, Kids Fest, Diggers and Dealers, York Medieval Festival, writing mentorship with Alexis West (First Nations Author) and workshops with Elaine Crombie (First Nations Performer).
I also went on to start my own small business, Nerdy Indigenous Art, and am working as a Cultural Heritage Consultant/Monitor on behalf of Barngarla Determination Aboriginal Corporation.
It was during this time a friend, Dylan, shared with me his wonderful experience with the YMCA Youth Parliament South Australia program and encouraged me to apply. Youth Parliament is a place for young people to learn about politics while finding their own voices and make like-minded friends.
I was secretly passionate about politics, but it’s not something I thought someone like me was able to do.
As fate would have it, I was successfully accepted into the Indigenous Affairs and Reconciliation Committee of 2021 where I was honoured to be assistant minister and main sponsor for our bill in the Legislative Council. I was also super grateful to participate in delivering the acknowledgement of country during the opening ceremony.
Our bill was the Raising the Age of Criminal Responsibility Bill 2021 SA, which we managed to pass through both houses with a unanimous vote. Being in that room, where you could feel the power of change, listening to young people of Australia speak about topics close to our hearts was a huge and significant moment for me. As it showed me what I thought was never allowed, the possibility for our generation to be seen and heard. To be the change we want to see and know that the power is with the people and our voices will be heard and can help in making our world a better place for the greater good of us all.
The Youth Governors Motion of Public Importance which spoke of extending the vote for all Australian residence, just made sense to us all. As did the deliberate motion that investigated our homelessness issue across all of Australia. Each of the bills that were debated, were carefully thought out and crafted by the Youth Parliamentarians, with a mighty passion that showed our Australians youth enthusiasm and dedication of communication, critical thinking, creative problem solving and justice.
A few that stood out for me personally and changed my perspectives were the Death with Dignity Bill, Emergency Medical Services Reform, The Food Reduction Bill, and the Mandatory Consent Education Bill. These each blew my mind away, quite frankly I was also moved by several adjournment speeches that were given by my peers. Through them, I was brought to tears, by the beautifully spoken topics, which powerfully varied from cruel gay conversion camps to toxic family abuse, domestic violence, mental health, homelessness, and sexual assault. Topics I never thought my South Australian peers had personally experienced already at such a young vulnerable age.
From this, the flame inside my heart grew more, until I had no choice but to put my hand up for Youth Governor elections, with hopes of being able to become the big sister and Aunty needed to help guide our Youth, like I do within my own family. As if this opportunity couldn’t get any more magical for me, I was grateful and honoured to become the First Female Aboriginal Regional Youth Governor of South Australia.
We’re currently already working on running our little brother program Junior Parliament Program for next month, so if you have any family or friends aged 12-15, look here for more info and sign up.
It goes to show, never give up and just try again. I achieved this, only because I failed ATAR.
This is just an amazing reminder to breathe, just relax and know what’s meant for you will come.
Regardless of ATAR or not, I believe in you.
Kid's Helpline - 1800 551 800Support and counselling for people aged 5-25 for any reason via webchat or phone. Available 24/7Lifeline - 13 11 14Crisis support and suicide prevention. Available 24/7