It's Mother's Day

My mother died over 25 years ago, after two and a half years of battling cancer. She had been due to retire later that month.

I could write about how we rarely saw eye-to-eye, or how we fought on a regular basis, because that is what I remember most about her. Instead, I have recently come to realise how much of a pioneer my mother was. Indeed, all of the women on my mother’s side of the family were strong women who worked hard all their lives.

Let’s start with my maternal grandmother. Grandma Campbell was a teacher. Many people would consider this a suitably feminine role to play in the late 1910’s. In fact, it was a job that was later known as ‘pink collar’ work – women’s work outside the home. What was unusual about Grandma? At a time when female teachers were fired by school boards as soon as they were wed, she was one of the first women in Ontario to teach after she was married.

In the late 1930’s, my grandfather who was a veteran of WWI, had been offered the job of Post Master in eastern Ontario. My grandparents sold their farm on highway 43, and moved into the village of Avonmore. In 1952, my grandfather died and my grandmother was offered the position. Again, it was unusual for women to hold that job – but not unheard of. There were sacks of mail to be hauled around and dealt with. My grandmother would have been 53 at the time and, according to her, had very little trouble lugging the mail. The only time she had difficulty was each December, with the Christmas rush.

Meanwhile, my mother had also become a teacher in the late 1940’s. She married in 1952. Fortunately for her, teachers were allowed to stay on at their jobs after they were married. It was almost expected by this point.

I was born in early May in the mid-50’s. During these years there was no such thing as maternity leave -- and very little sick leave. It was also the time when Grade 8 students had to write entrance exams at the end of June in order to be allowed into high school. My mother was concerned about her students (in a one room school) and the reviews she wanted to cover with them before the exams. At the beginning of June, she was back at school – taking me with her. I’m told she put a blanket on the floor and set me on it – as farm wives had done for centuries to keep an eye on their infants while going about their kitchen chores.

So, at the tender age of one month, I went to school. I’m not sure how much I could possibly have absorbed, but I was later considered one of the ‘bright brats’, as we were sometimes termed, and put into an accelerated program. But I’m no pioneer, so enough of me ...

In 1962, we moved to Ottawa. My father had been working for TCA (Trans Canada Airlines), the precursor of Air Canada, and was commuting an hour each way. My mother got a job in the Nepean Township School Board. In the interview, she was promised a salary of $4,000 per year. When she arrived to teach there, having given up her previous job in Long Sault, she was informed that she would be earning $3,600 per year instead.

Later that year, my grandmother called us and said she was lonely and could she come and live with us? I was ecstatic because I missed Grandma terribly. That was when she gave up her job as Post Mistress, at the age of 63, and moved to Ottawa. She started supply teaching with the Ottawa Public School Board in order to augment her pension.

I remember playing with other kids my age in our neighbourhood and hearing their mothers make pitying remarks to me about the fact that my mother worked. I couldn’t understand why the comments were being made. Everyone worked, didn’t they? I also couldn’t understand what these women did all day. As far as I could see, they met for coffee, went shopping, and watched the soaps. They certainly didn’t do arithmetic flash cards with their kids, as my parents did with me, and then had the temerity to wonder out loud why I was doing so well in school.

In the mid-1960’s, my mother realised that it wouldn’t be long before all teachers in Ontario would be required to have a university degree – and that no one would be exempt. So, a couple of years before the ruling came down that they had to start taking courses, she signed up for a university course during the summer. My grandmother was given the job of keeping me quiet and, preferably, out of the house.

I realise now how scared my mother must have been. She had been out of school for over 15 years at that point and the prospect of studying and developing good study habits must have been terrifying – especially when you consider that her continued employment hinged on getting grades good enough to graduate.


By the mid-1970's my mother had her BA and her Master's degree in Education. She was qualified to teach every option available from Kindergarten through to grade 8 -- including woodwork and metalwork. Her favourite position, though, was a the school librarian.

Flash forward to my first job and filing my first income tax.

Mom helped me understand how to read government forms – and how to call and ask for clarification if I was puzzled by what was written. She could have done it for me – after all, she did the books for my father’s business which he had started in the early 1970’s – but she wanted me to learn to do it myself. After a couple of years, she and I would sit down together and, starting with the same information, see who could do it the fastest. Then we would compare results. If we got the same number, I copied it out in good and my taxes were done – usually in under an hour.

It was also in the 1970’s that I realised that farming doesn’t pay the bills – at least, dairy farming in eastern Ontario didn’t pay enough to live on. This was one reason why all my female cousins worked outside the home – aside from wanting to prevent a stagnation of the brain.

I hadn’t realised until, a few years ago, that these women in my family were the grassroots of the Feminist Movement of the 1960’s and 1970’s. I’m proud to be related to them.