Before You Judge a Family, Know Their Story: Sometimes Inclusion Looks Like a Bus Ride to School

Reflections from Natalie and Marita’s breakout session at the Little People Big Dreams Conference in Darwin

At the recent Little People Big Dreams Conference in Darwin, I had the privilege of listening to Natalie Howard and Marita share the incredible work happening within the Bagot community.

Of all the things they shared, one message has stayed with me: Before we judge a family, we need to know their story.

It’s a simple statement, but one that challenges us as educators to think deeply about how we interpret children’s attendance, family engagement and the barriers that prevent children from accessing education.

Their presentation wasn’t about elaborate educational programs or expensive resources. It was about relationships, listening to families, understanding community and finding practical solutions to real challenges.

And sometimes, those solutions are as simple as a bus ride to school.

There’s Always a Story Behind a Child’s Absence

During the presentation, Marita spoke about the relationship between the Bagot community and Ludmilla Primary School.

She explained how, in the past, schools sometimes made assumptions about why children weren’t attending. There were occasions when referrals were being considered before anyone had taken the time to understand what was happening within the family.

Marita challenged this thinking: “Before you judge, here’s a story.”

She explained that a child might be absent because they had broken their arm and were in hospital. Their parent might not have a mobile phone to contact the school. They might not have access to transport or know how to communicate the circumstances.

Perhaps the child had woken up to discover there was no hot water in the house. Perhaps the family didn’t have a working washing machine, making it difficult to provide clean school clothes.

Perhaps their shoes had gone missing.

These weren’t hypothetical examples. They were situations Marita and her colleagues had encountered while working alongside families.

As she explained: “There’s always a valid reason.”

What struck me was how easily these circumstances could be misunderstood by educators who don’t know the family or the community. We might see a child who is frequently absent. We might see a parent who doesn’t attend meetings. We might see a child arriving without appropriate clothing or equipment. And without understanding the bigger picture, we risk interpreting these circumstances as a lack of parental interest, responsibility or commitment to education.

But what if the problem isn’t a family’s willingness to participate?

What if the problem is the barriers standing in their way?

 

 

Sometimes Inclusion Starts Before the School Gate

One of my favourite stories from Natalie and Marita’s presentation was about the Bagot community’s Walking Bus. For years, a community educator would begin their morning at around 7 am, walking through the community ringing a bell. As they passed the houses, children would join them, and together they would make their way to Ludmilla Primary School.

The educator wasn’t simply accompanying children to school. They were helping ensure children had breakfast, supporting lunch arrangements and communicating with families. Natalie and Marita described children eagerly waiting for the Walking Bus each morning.

But there were challenges.

During Darwin’s wet season, heavy rain could make the walk difficult. On other days, the heat presented its own challenges. Sometimes staff would use their own vehicles or wait for the weather to improve. More recently, Child Australia gifted the community a bus.

Natalie described how much the children loved it and the sense of ownership it created. What might seem like a relatively small logistical change has made an enormous practical difference to the way children access school. And I think there is an important lesson here for all of us working in early childhood education.

We talk a lot about inclusion.

We discuss inclusive environments, inclusive programming, inclusive resources and inclusive teaching practices. But how often do we consider the barriers that exist before a child even arrives at our service? A beautifully resourced, culturally responsive learning environment means very little to a child who cannot access it.

Sometimes inclusion isn’t about what happens inside the classroom. Sometimes inclusion looks like transport. Sometimes it looks like breakfast. Sometimes it looks like having spare shoes and uniforms available.

And sometimes it looks like an educator walking through a community ringing a bell.

Building Relationships Instead of Making Assumptions

Another aspect of the Bagot community’s work that really resonated with me was the Families for School Attendance program. Through this initiative, community educators work closely with families and the school to understand attendance patterns, communicate absences and address barriers.

Importantly, they don’t simply collect attendance data.

They know the children. They know the families. They understand the community.

When a child is absent, they can provide context that the school might otherwise never receive. Marita explained how this has changed the relationship between the community and Ludmilla Primary School. Rather than immediately assuming a child is disengaged, the school can now have a conversation with community educators who understand what is happening.

And rather than simply telling families what they need to do, the team works alongside them to find solutions.

If a family has no hot water, they can help navigate housing maintenance requests. If a household needs practical support, they can connect families with appropriate services. If parents are uncomfortable attending meetings at school, they can arrange for teachers to visit the community instead.

This last example particularly stood out to me.

Natalie and Marita described how parent–teacher interviews are sometimes held within the Bagot community, allowing families to meet teachers in a familiar environment. For some parents, English is an additional language. Others may have had difficult experiences with schooling themselves. Rather than expecting every family to adapt to the school’s systems, the school has been willing to adapt its approach.

That is what genuine family engagement looks like.

Not simply inviting families into our spaces, but being willing to enter theirs.

 

 

Relationships Are the Work

Natalie also reflected on her own experiences growing up in Bagot. She spoke about how, historically, school liaison officers would come looking for children who weren’t attending school, without necessarily taking the time to sit with parents and understand their circumstances.

There wasn’t always an opportunity for families to explain what was happening. There wasn’t always a relationship.

Today, the community is working towards something different.

Natalie explained that their goal isn’t for community workers to remain the permanent intermediaries between families and schools. They want parents to develop the confidence and relationships to speak directly with teachers and advocate for their children.

As Natalie put it: “We want parents to get up and talk for your child.”

I think this is such an important distinction. Meaningful engagement isn’t about creating dependency on educators or support services. It’s about building relationships, confidence and opportunities for families to exercise their own agency.

In early childhood education, we often talk about partnerships with families. The Early Years Learning Framework positions relationships and partnerships as central to children’s learning, development and wellbeing. But partnerships require more than regular newsletters, invitations to events or opportunities to contribute to the program.

They require us to listen. They require us to be curious rather than judgemental. They require us to recognise that families hold knowledge about their children that we do not.

And sometimes they require us to reconsider the systems and expectations we have created.

Looking Beyond Attendance Numbers

One of the most encouraging aspects of Natalie and Marita’s presentation was hearing about the achievements of children from the Bagot community. They spoke proudly about students being selected to attend the Melbourne Indigenous Transition School, children achieving 100% attendance and young people taking on leadership roles within Ludmilla Primary School.

One young boy from Bagot had become school captain, while his younger brother was a sports house captain. Marita spoke about the pride these achievements brought to the community and how younger children were beginning to see these students as role models.

These outcomes matter.

But I think it’s important that we don’t overlook the work happening behind them.

• The relationships.
• The early morning walks.
• The conversations with families.
• The practical support.
• The willingness to listen before judging.
• The school staff coming into the community.
• The community educators advocating for children and their families.

These are the things that create the conditions for children to participate, belong and succeed. Attendance figures may help us measure progress, but they don’t tell us the whole story.

And as educators, we need to be interested in more than the numbers.

 

 

What Can Early Childhood Educators Learn From Bagot?

While Natalie and Marita were sharing examples from a school-community partnership, I believe there are important lessons here for those of us working in early childhood settings. Think about the child whose attendance at preschool is inconsistent.

• The family who rarely participates in events.
• The parent who is always rushing at drop-off.
• The child who arrives without a hat, spare clothes or lunch.

How do we respond? Do we become frustrated? Do we make assumptions? Do we label families as disengaged? Or do we approach these situations with curiosity, compassion and a genuine desire to understand?

Here are some questions I think every early childhood team could reflect on:

None of these questions has quick or universal answers. And I certainly wouldn’t suggest that every early childhood service needs to establish a Walking Bus. The lesson isn’t about replicating Bagot’s programs.

It’s about understanding the thinking and relationships behind them.

Before We Judge, Let’s Get Curious

I left Natalie and Marita’s session feeling incredibly inspired by their leadership and the work happening within the Bagot community. What I admired most was that they weren’t presenting themselves as having all the answers. They were sharing the realities of working within their community, the challenges families face, the relationships they’ve built and the practical ways they continue to advocate for better outcomes.

They also spoke candidly about ongoing housing challenges, including the fact that no new houses had been built in their community since 2007. It’s an important reminder that educators and community organisations cannot solve every structural inequality on their own.

But we can challenge the assumptions we make. We can advocate alongside families. We can build genuine relationships. And we can reconsider whether our systems are helping children participate or unintentionally creating additional barriers.

For me, the most powerful message from this breakout session was not simply about improving school attendance. It was about dignity, trust and understanding.

Because behind every attendance record is a child. Behind every child is a family. And every family has a story worth listening to.

Thank you to Natalie, Marita and the Bagot community team for sharing your experiences and reminding us what genuine, community-led engagement can look like.