As a Teacher, Here’s What Weddings Have Taught Me About People

(Pssst... it's the in-between moments)

One of our dear friends Johnny is getting married in Vietnam in July. We had every intention to attend, requesting leave from our workplaces that was immediately approved. But after learning that it is monsoon season in Soc Trang and with our daughter having severe reactions to mosquito bites, we thought that we would have to pass on the idea. But for months, we kept teasing on still going on an overseas trip, as we both have our leave approved anyway.

So finally, in our true family fashion, we decided with two months to spare, we would sprint to get the boys (my husband and our son) a passport. Waiting at the Post Office, with my children walking through quietly, inspecting the coins, I noticed a very familiar face from over a decade ago. Her name was Mariam. 

If you have read my blog posts before, you would know that my day job is as a teacher. Mariam was in one of the very first history classes that I taught. She, along with her friend Maria, were doe-eyed and would try so hard to answer all the comprehension questions in the neatest hand writing and would often volunteer responses, even though their voices were shaking. There she was, about the age that I was when I taught her. 

I smiled at the memories of her, her friend, the class, my young self and the hope that I held tightly in my heart. 

There are so many crossovers in teaching and weddings. The most obvious one is me – standing at the front, in a room full of people. Except people think that public speaking comes so naturally to me but I’m used to speaking in front of children. But adults on the other hand? Woof! I have to wear triple strength antiperspirant and douse myself in baby powder and perfume. 

But standing at the front of a wedding, I often see the Mariams and Marias smiling sweetly, either as a guest or as the beautiful bride. One thing that is so similar is the hope that they hold. 

When people get married, it is often about the fanfare. The dress, the venue, the colour scheme, the flowers! But as a celebrant, when you stand at the front, it is the intimate moments that you walk away remembering. 

One of my favourite weddings so far has to be Bec and Shiv’s Christmas Day wedding on the rooftop of Bec’s parents’ apartment. They were both so young, about the age of Mariam. Doe-eyed. Lots of promises for tomorrow. 

But it was the day that they held dear. A possible last Christmas for a parent, a child feeling the embrace of their parent, Christmas mornings and a gathering of people. 

Mariam and Maria made a farewell card for me which I may possibly still have in a box somewhere. They decorated it with pink glitter and love hearts and Maria wrote a very poignant message for me by Maya Angelou:

“People will forget what you said. But people will never forget how you made them feel."

On wedding days, there are so many feelings. Nerves, jitters, fear, anxiety, stress but the most important of all – love. And that love is never exclusive to the couple but to the people who get to witness their love, show their love and express their love. 

In teaching, you start with love. At first, it is for a subject. For me, it was History then I ended up thoroughly enjoying Michael Griffith at Australian Catholic University. I always liked writing, but it wasn’t until Michael’s lectures that I was challenged to write in ways that were uncomfortable and unfamiliar to me. And really, it isn’t until now with the challenges and temptations of AI, the baby brain disease and the overall hecticness of adult life that I find myself challenged to write. 

Like in love, you meet someone and you think you love one thing about them. Then you learn more about them and the pretty brown eyes you thought you would love the most become the least impressive thing about your person, as you see them navigate through life with strength and perseverance. Then as you grow together, you also grow beside each other and somehow, you build a home, have a family all whilst still trying to be yourself. 

Life is unexpected. Love in life is unexpected. We often think it is about one thing, but we learn it’s about another. Though it was important for me to get through the content of Australia in the World Wars with Mariam and Maria’s class, I think I took more away than ways to make the bombing of Darwin more interesting to teach. It’s seeing them, but later as strangers, knowing that they are on their own journey. 

So it’s in the in-between moments, where I was waiting in line at the post office, seeing soul in a face I once knew, that I realised that teaching and celebrancy are very different yet exactly the same. In both, you meet someone for but a moment in their lives, but somehow they leave fingerprints on yours. 

AB Celebrancy performing in a Michael Griffith's Literature lecture with her friend Kelly.

AB Celebrancy as a young teacher with her friend Jen Trinh.