Before the Goodbye: One Rural Mother’s Boarding School Journey
Amanda Ferrari with Sarah Hooke, East Loddon Merinos, Wanganella
There is something beautifully honest about the way Sarah Hooke speaks about motherhood, life on the land and the future she imagines for her four daughters.
She and her husband Tom are raising their family at Warwillah, home of East Loddon Merinos on the Hay Plains near Wanganella in south western New South Wales. It is a life Sarah describes as “full and busy in the best possible way.” Their daughters Pip, Bridie, Edwina and baby Molly are growing up surrounded by wide open spaces, sheep, family and the rhythms of rural life.
But like so many bush families, distance quietly shapes almost every part of their days.
“We’re about 80 kilometres from Deniliquin, so travelling is part of our daily life,” Sarah explains.
The older girls travel 30 kilometres each morning and afternoon just to meet the school bus. Preschool for three year old Edwina means an 80 kilometre drive each way, usually turning into a full day in town because there is little point heading home in between.
“It’s a lot of time on the road,” Sarah says. “And while I’d love to be 50 kilometres closer to town, this is our normal and we wouldn’t trade the life we have out here.”
It is that reality, more than anything else, that has slowly brought boarding school into focus for the Hooke family.
Like many rural parents, Sarah says boarding school was always somewhere in the back of their minds. Living remotely often means understanding early that education may eventually look different for your children. But it was not until the girls actually started school that the idea shifted from abstract possibility to something much more real.
“Experiencing the early mornings, the long days and the kilometres made us realise it probably was going to be the right thing for our kids,” she says.
“The distance has really been the catalyst,” Sarah says. “We don’t want our location to define or limit what the girls can access and experience.”
For now, boarding school remains years away. Pip is only seven. But Sarah and Tom have already begun the process of exploring what that future could look like.
“The distance has really been the catalyst,” Sarah says. “We don’t want our location to define or limit what the girls can access and experience.”
Out in the bush, boarding school is often spoken about almost matter of factly. It is woven into the fabric of many rural communities. Yet Sarah is quick to point out that familiarity does not make the decision any less significant.
“It’s common for bush families, especially once kids reach high school age and the distances become even more of a factor,” she says. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not thinking carefully about it. We want to get it right for each of our girls.”
At the heart of their thinking is opportunity.
Sarah speaks about wanting her daughters to access the things geography can make difficult from afar. Subjects. Sport. Music. Drama. The freedom to pursue passions without every decision being limited by kilometres and logistics.
“We want them to be able to follow what they love without us having to say, ‘Sorry, we can’t get you there.’”
But it is not only the practical opportunities that draw Sarah toward boarding school. It is also the personal growth she hopes it might nurture.
“I love the idea of the friendships they’ll form,” she says. “You hear boarders talk about those lifelong connections they made at school, and I think that’s something really special.”
She hopes the experience will help her girls develop confidence and independence while still remaining deeply connected to who they are and where they come from.
That balance feels especially important to the Hookes.
“We’re not looking for a school to change who they are,” Sarah says. “We’re looking for one that will build on it.”
When Sarah and Tom talk about the kind of school they are searching for, the conversation goes far beyond academics. Of course they want strong learning opportunities and extra curricular options, but the boarding house itself matters just as much.
“It needs to feel like a home away from home,” Sarah says.
They think carefully about the culture of the boarding community, the size of it, the day to day atmosphere and the kinds of students their daughters would be surrounded by.
Tom often returns to one particular hope. He wants the girls to be educated alongside both rural and city students, surrounded by a broad mix of backgrounds and experiences.
“That mix feels important to us,” Sarah says.
The questions they are asking now are practical, emotional and deeply parental all at once.
What does a normal day look like for a boarder? What happens on weekends? How does a school support homesickness? What ratio of boarders to day students feels right? How far is it from home? Is there family nearby who could step in when Mum and Dad cannot?
And, like every family considering boarding school, there is also the reality of cost.
But perhaps the biggest questions are the emotional ones.
“In all honesty, it makes my heart ache a little,” Sarah admits.
Neither she nor Tom attended boarding school themselves. Sarah grew up in Sydney while Tom was raised in regional Victoria. There is no lived experience to draw from, no personal memory of what that first goodbye might feel like.
“I can’t quite picture what it will feel like to drop them off and drive away,” she says.
Even now, years before the decision will likely become reality, Sarah finds herself thinking about it often.
What will be hardest?
“Missing the everyday things,” she says. “The little details from the girls’ days. A cuddle every morning and night. Knowing they’re going through something and not being right there.”
“Right now, the reason our girls miss out on things isn’t capability or interest. It’s kilometres and logistics.”
Still, beneath the emotion sits a quiet certainty that boarding school may ultimately offer their daughters a remarkable opportunity.
“Right now, the reason our kids miss out on things isn’t capability or interest. It’s kilometres and logistics,” Sarah says. “We know this will get trickier as they get older and their interests and schedules vary.”
For Sarah, boarding school represents more than education. It represents access. Possibility. Broader horizons.
“I think it gives country kids an understanding of the wider world,” she says. “Friendships across different backgrounds, confidence in navigating life away from the farm and home.”
As they begin researching schools, Sarah says one thing has become incredibly clear. Hearing real stories from other families matters deeply.
“Statistics and school brochures can only tell you so much,” she says. “Hearing how another parent navigated the process, the difficulties and the successes, that’s what I really want to hear.”
She believes starting early is one of the greatest gifts families can give themselves.
“The earlier you begin, the more time you have to make such an important decision without feeling rushed,” she says.
And while the process has already surprised her with how quickly it suddenly feels relevant, she says there is also excitement in discovering just how many possibilities exist.
“It feels like a place where the boarding house is a home”
So what does the “right school” feel like for the Hooke family right now?
Sarah pauses before answering.
“It feels like a place where the boarding house is a home,” she says. “Warm, busy, full of life. A place where the girls are known and looked after.”
Then she smiles.
“When we walk into a school and it feels like that, I think we’ll know.”
Thank you to East Loddon Merinos and Sarah Hooke, Wanganella.
Written by Amanda Ferrari with Sarah Hooke, East Loddon Merinos, Wanganella
Photo credit: Bec Haycraft
