A movement ministry

Teaching in the territory brings healing, builds trust

Megan Fairhall suffered from a crumbling, sometimes abusive marriage. She lacked self-worth and a sense of belonging. And the kids were fighting in the car. Opening the door, she stepped out and walked to the edge of the three-story carpark. Looking out, she imagined herself gently floating down like a feather and leaving all her troubles behind. Then a calm voice laden with warmth said, “I will help you.” She remembers the voice being like a rope carefully pulling her back. After a moment, she stepped away from the edge, returned to the car and continued on her way.

Three weeks later, Megan attended a careers expo. Not for herself but her husband. If she could help him find a career, a purpose, maybe things would improve at home. Scanning the overwhelming range of options in the hall, she focused on a particular stall—Avondale’s—and the same warmth she’d felt in the carpark returned. After spending some time chatting with the representative, Megan took some paperwork home.

As a 40-something mother of four in a dysfunctional marriage, Megan wondered whether she had what it took to study at university. She had dyslexia and hadn’t completed high school. Even completing the application form felt daunting. If things didn’t work out, she could always continue KinderGym coaching.

Seventeen years earlier, Megan discovered her son had missed two of the simple yet crucial development milestones: crawling and rolling. With research, she found specific physical and neurological activities—brain gymnastics—that replicated early movements patterns. The activities helped rewire her son’s brain for better understanding and improved learning outcomes. She became an advocate for other KinderGym kids like her son. This attracted the attention of the facility’s director, who asked Megan to join the team.

Recognising her children were more than just passengers in the family’s life journey, Megan wanted to lead by example but wavered between accepting a role at the facility and beginning tertiary study. Avondale’s Diploma of General Studies coordinator Dr David Potter dared her to believe she could complete the application. “She lacked confidence,” David recalls. “Convinced she had what it took, I strove to build up her self-efficacy.”

Daughter Lana, having just completed Year 12, decided to join her mum at Avondale. The two started the diploma together before transferring to a Bachelor of Education. During their first class, they were asked to correct a page full of grammatical errors. Lana laughed, baiting her mum, “You’re so going down.” “It’s on,” Megan replied.

Megan studied part time so she could continue supporting her family—she completed assessment tasks while attending her son’s soccer training. Still, the self-doubt, the temptation to quit, remained. But encouraging conversations with her lecturers and children and good grades for work well done helped Megan stay the course. A One Mission trip to Nepal with Dr Jason Hinze, where she experienced life in another culture and taught with few resources, also made a deep impact. “They have nothing, but they have everything; they have humanity.”

Three big things happened to Megan while at Avondale. She decided to leave her husband. An adopted child, she sought out her birth parents. And her second daughter, Emma, enrolled as a student. This brought about a new phase in Megan’s identity development, a delicate unfurling sustained by love, self-exploration and self-affirmation that helped realign her sense of belonging and self-worth. “I reconnected with God on what would become a journey to find myself,” she says.

After graduation, Megan accepted a three-week contract in the McDonald Ranges of the Northern Territory. This lit a love for the land and the people that persuaded her to register as a teacher and to teach in an indigenous school. Seeing her passion, the director of Gymnastics Northern Territory offered Megan a contract. She found students had similar learning difficulties to her son’s. So, while gymnastics and movement are core parts of the program, “we also teach the students about communication, problem-solving skills, and connecting with western culture. It’s the wholistic approach that builds trust.”

Whether teaching summersaults or balance games, Megan ensures activities are culturally safe and appropriate—while she designs lessons with structure, she is mindful of the independence within the culture, the traditional sensitivities, and the required safety. This increases her ability to engage and connect with the participants. As her confidence and sense of purpose grow, so does the impact of the program. “Many kids don’t attend school—if you have 60 per cent of students at school, it’s a good day. But letting them know gymnastics is happening helps increase attendance.”

Australian rules football may be one of the major sports in the territory but Megan believes gymnastics is popular, too. “I’m driving from my accommodation in Beswick to start the gymnastics program in Barunga,” she tells Gymnastics Northern Territory. “Out of the corner of my eye, I see these indigenous children jumping from an old innerspring mattress that had folded over. They’re performing flips and somersaults. An older sister is there watering the grass/mud to make their landing softer/slushier. A classic!”

Megan sees herself coaching for some time—as long as God calls, she will follow. Because it’s such a remote job, she misses her family but knowing they’re happy she’s happy is comforting. She finds continual healing and self-renewal serving such isolated communities.

If you found anything in this article distressing, contact Lifeline (13 11 14 or www.lifeline.org.au in Australia or 0800 54 33 54 or www.lifeline.org.nz in New Zealand) or Relationships Australia or New Zealand (1300 364 277 or www.relationships.org.au in Australia or 0800 735 283 or www.relationships.org.nz in New Zealand).