What would you do if ten years of your life’s work disappeared overnight?
That’s what happened to my friend Lucy. Her Facebook page.... years of memories, gone. Just like that. And it made me worry, what if the WuHoo Timaru Facebook page disappeared too. Ten years of discoveries, fun facts, and free fun ideas for families... all gone.
So, I decided I’d better save it somewhere else. I started copying, pasting, and rewriting our posts into blogs on our website wuhootimaru.co.nz/blogs. I got about 50 blogs deep, when I realised something. Very few included stories of women.
Join me while I reflect on why that was, and what I have learned so far. Over these past months I have discovered that many women’s stories risk being lost, because they were never written down or passed on. Some were pioneers, inventors and trail blazers. Others lived more quietier lives and focused on their families and communities. South Canterbury itself was once one of the wealthiest regions in the country, known as the nation’s food bowl, with a port that linked us to global markets. In many ways our region has always punched above its weight.
What I now understand is that it is not only the exceptional who make ripples. It is all of us — even through ordinary, everyday tasks — shaping the world around us...
Side quests that taught me more than I expected
I have absolutely loved doing this. I relearned things I’d forgotten. I went on side quests. And the more I learned about people from the past through the lens of today, the more I learned about myself.
I began to understand a little more about why Timaru is the way it is. What has shaped our thinking. What we’ve valued. What we’ve lost and suffered through. And I found stories of ingenuity, teamwork, and community — people pulling each other through desperate times with resilience, hope, and solutions.
That was the story I thought I was going to share a few months ago, until I realised something else.
Where are all the women?
And here’s the bit I am embarrassed to admit. If I am honest, it wasn’t intentional. It just happened. Because men’s stories are everywhere. They are easier to find. Take the Timaru District Council’s Hall of Fame. Seventy people recognised for national or international significance. How many do you think are women. Seven.
Seven.
Why is that. Is it because women were not worthy. Or is it because something else is going on.
Did you know about the law that help back choice?
That question was still rattling in my head when I helped out at the Timaru Girls’ High School archives. Pamela — an amazing volunteer there — sent me some old rules for teachers. At first, I laughed. Teachers couldn’t ride in a car with a man unless he was family. Skirts had to be a certain length. And one rule even said they weren’t allowed to loiter in ice cream parlours.
But then one line stopped me cold. If you wanted to teach, you weren’t allowed to be married. If you married, you had to resign.
And this wasn’t just a school rule. It was law. The marriage bar.
Imagine that. Being legally forced to choose between career or love. And it wasn’t only teaching. It applied to clerical workers too. It wasn’t until the 1940s that it was abolished.
We all know the story of women fighting for the right to vote. But how many of us know the story of women fighting for the right to work and have a family.
A newspaper clipping that Pamela Gibson shared with me - archivist of Timaru Girls High School. Rules for teachers in 1872. In New Zealand, the marriage bar was a legal rule that forced women out of their jobs once they married. It applied mainly to teachers, public servants and clerical workers, and meant women had to choose between career or family. The idea came from social attitudes of the early 1900s that assumed a husband should provide financially while his wife stayed at home. By classifying married women as “supplementary staff” rather than permanent employees, workplaces could avoid paying full salaries and dismiss women easily. The bar was strictly enforced in schools and government departments, though during wartime it was often relaxed out of necessity. For many women it was deeply unfair, stripping away both income and independence. After years of debate, it was finally abolished in 1947, giving women the right to remain in the workforce after marriage and marking a turning point in the long struggle for equality.
Imagine not being allowed to hang out at a ice cream parlour! Tanner Brothers Limited, Stafford St looking North, Timaru, N.Z. (c.1911-1914). Hocken Digital Collections, accessed 10/09/2025, https://hocken.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/52750
Why I think some of their stories are so hard to find
As I dug deeper, I noticed a pattern. Many of the women whose stories survived never married, never had children. They lived in a time when they couldn’t have both. So many chose their careers. And because of that, they achieved incredible things — for Timaru, for New Zealand.
But not all the stories I uncovered were of women who were the first, the most, or the best. Some women made the news under horrendous circumstances. Others lived quieter lives, focused on their homes and families.
And yet, there were also inventors, pioneers, and trail blazers. Women who led in education, health, community, and creativity. South Canterbury was one of the wealthiest regions in the country, and by the early 1900s it had earned the reputation of being the nation’s food bowl. Our port, with its exchanges and its connections, linked us to global markets. In many ways, I have learned how Timaru and the wider region has always punched well above its weight.
What I have come to understand is this. It isn’t only the exceptional who make ripples. It’s all of us. Even in the ordinary, everyday tasks — we shape the world around us.
It made me realise why today’s conversations about having it all are still so tricky. I try really hard to make space to have freedom of choice. But I don’t believe I can have it all at once. Not without a fabulous village around me.
So I went on a new mission
On reflection, after these last few months of reshaping my old Facebook posts into blogs, I have realised something important. Many of these women’s stories could be lost over time. Some of them left no descendants to carry their memories forward.
So I have found myself on a new mission. To pull these stories out from the margins, and in some cases even onto the page for the very first time. Because when we learn who these women were, we start to see how they helped open the doors that we now have the freedom to walk through today.
These women held the keys. Some pushed the doors wide open. Others quietly kept the hinges oiled so they would not slam shut. And now, we get to walk through.
Does this make you think about the women who shaped you
So look around this room tonight. We are all different. All kinds of women, living all kinds of lives. Take a moment to thank those who worked their backsides off to open doors for us — in schools, workplaces, sport, arts, governance, and homes.
And remember. It’s only in the last century that we’ve even been allowed to walk through many of those doors.
Picture the women in your own life. The ones who made you who you are. Can you hear their voices. Can you feel their influence still at your side.
And if you haven’t told them lately, make the time. Recognise their contribution. Honour their story. Thank them.
Because it is those women — not only the firsts or the greats, but also the everyday women — who inspire us, and whose impact continues to ripple through our lives.
Thinking about these women, does it make you think about how you want to write your own story?
By learning about the women of the past, I have ended up learning so much more about myself. I feel more grateful. More optimistic. More inspired.
But most of all, I feel enabled. Enabled to ask myself: what story do I want to leave behind.
And my hope is that you leave tonight asking yourself the same.
I invite you contemplate and reflect...
Who are the women who shaped me
- Who in my life has influenced the person I am today
- Have I ever taken the time to thank them
Whose stories are missing
- When I think of local history, whose names come to mind first
- Whose voices, especially women’s, have been left out
The ripple effect of the ordinary
- Do I value the everyday contributions as much as the big achievements
- How do my own small, daily choices shape the world around me
Freedom of choice
- Do I fully recognise how recent the right to combine work, family, and personal ambition really is
- How do I use that freedom of choice in my own life today
The idea of doors
- What doors have been opened for me by the women before me
- What doors am I holding open, or perhaps closing, for the next generation
Local pride and perspective
- How has South Canterbury’s legacy of resilience, innovation, and punching above its weight shaped me
- Do I see myself as part of continuing that story
The story I want to leave behind
- If someone were to tell my story in 50 years, what would I want them to say
- Am I living in a way that reflects that story
Take a moment to think about the women who have shaped your life. Have you told them you see them, and appreciate them? How can you honour them and share their story?
And if they are no longer here, how can you honour them and share their story?
History is more than our firsts, mosts or the greats. It is about all of us. Wahat will be the story you leave behind?
Five things this history hunt has taught me about myself
I am grateful for the women who opened doors before me.
I have a new perspective on Timaru and South Canterbury — a region with centuries of history, with mana whenua whose stories come first, then the whalers and early European pioneers, followed by the settlers, and a place that has always punched above its weight.
I feel optimistic, knowing how people in the past found resilience, solutions and hope in hard times.
I am inspired not just by the pioneers, but by the everyday women whose ripples still shape us today.
And most of all, I have been reminded I have a choice... to decide what story I want to leave behind, and how I can help others live the lives they choose.
A side quest – the marriage bar around the world
New Zealand was not alone in restricting married women from paid work. The marriage bar was common across English-speaking countries from the late 19th century right through to the 1970s. In the United Kingdom, for example, the Post Office brought in a marriage bar in 1876, the BBC introduced one in 1932, and the Foreign Office kept it as late as 1973. Teachers, nurses and civil servants were particularly affected. In some cases women were sacked as soon as they married, in others they were simply never hired in the first place.
Australia also had a marriage bar, introduced through the Public Service Act 1902, which was not lifted until 1966. In Ireland, married women could not work in the civil service until 1973. In the United States, school boards and clerical employers applied marriage bars well into the mid-20th century, with some 87% of school boards refusing to hire married women as late as 1940. Even widows with children were sometimes caught by these rules, considered “still married” and therefore ineligible for work.
The justification was often the same everywhere: that married women should be at home raising families, that jobs should go to men or single women who “needed them more,” and that a wife’s employment suggested her husband could not provide. When times were hard — such as the Great Depression or after World War I — marriage bars tightened. During wartime, when women’s labour was urgently needed, rules were often quietly relaxed.
It was only in the post-war decades, with changing social attitudes, labour shortages, and the rise of anti-discrimination laws, that the practice was gradually dismantled. The Netherlands removed its marriage bar in 1957, the UK in stages through the 1940s to 1970s, Australia in 1966, Ireland in 1973, and the US formally outlawed it in 1964 under the Civil Rights Act.
When we look at this bigger picture, New Zealand’s abolition in the late 1940s came relatively early — but the fact it existed at all, even for a short time, still meant generations of women were forced to choose between career and love.
Who are examples of women who had teaching careers and did not marry?
Side Quest: Hunting for Women Impacted by the Marriage Bar
When we look at the staff lists of Timaru Girls’ High School, names like Miss Watt, Miss J. R. Barr, and Miss Leila Hurle stand out. Each of these women remained unmarried and devoted their lives to teaching, a choice deeply shaped by the Marriage Bar.
But what about the many others whose names appeared briefly in prize-giving reports or yearbooks — the Miss Ronaldsons, Miss Stanwixes, Miss Smiths of the 1920s and 1930s? Did they leave quietly when they married, their careers cut short by a regulation that saw marriage as incompatible with teaching?
This is where the history hunting can feel a bit like detective work. reading through newspapers, jubilee books, and cemetery records, with a bit of effort, we can begin to piece together stories:
- Who stayed “Miss” for decades, carving out a career?
- Who disappeared from staff lists soon after marriage?
- Who reappeared years later, perhaps after widowhood or repeal of the rule?
I think each of these women are part of a bigger, hidden history... a generation whose career paths were dictated by a discriminatory law. I hope that by following these names, we’re not just learning about what the Marriage Bar was in theory, but also uncovering the real lives it shaped.
Mary Jane McLean – first principal of the newly separated TGHS (appointed 1898); later principal of Wellington Girls’. Lived with her bachelor brother and unmarried sister; no record of her marrying. 1893-09-16. Portrait of Miss Mary Jane Mclean, 1866-1949 Headmistress at Timaru High School. Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections NZG-18930916-0206-03. No known copyright restrictions . View this page on Papers Past: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/new-zealand-graphic/1893/09/16/14
Leila Hurle (1901–1989) — A Life Devoted to Education
Leila Hurle, was a brilliant scholar who studied at Otago and the Sorbonne, and became principal of Timaru Girls’ High School in 1938. She later led New Plymouth Girls’ High School and served as a national school inspector. She never married... perhaps a choice that reflected the Marriage Bar, which forced women teachers to resign upon marriage in the 1930s and continued to shape expectations long after its repeal.
Hurle’s career shows the cost of this policy: to remain in education, women often gave up family life. Yet her lifelong commitment also enriched generations of students, and today New Plymouth Girls’ High honours her through the Leila Hurle Prize.
Miss J. R. Barr, M.A
In the Timaru Herald Magazine Section of 19 April 1930, a jubilee feature on Timaru High Schools included photographs of the principals, among them Miss J. R. Barr, M.A., appointed in 1924. Always referred to as “Miss,” Barr exemplified the pattern of women educators whose careers were shaped by the Marriage Bar, which required women teachers to resign upon marriage during the 1930s. Her long tenure as principal through the 1920s and 1930s shows how women could only sustain senior roles in education by remaining unmarried. Though not the subject of the whole feature, her inclusion in the jubilee spread highlights her status and contribution, while also pointing to the sacrifices many women in education made in order to continue their professional lives.
Miss Watt, M.A. — An Example of the Marriage Bar "Lady Principal" Timaru Girls High School
Miss Watt, Lady Principal of Timaru Girls’ High School, was always referred to as “Miss.” Like many women teachers of her era, she remained unmarried.... not necessarily by choice, but because the Marriage Bar required women teachers to resign if they wed. Even after its formal abolition in 1938, the expectation lingered, especially for senior posts. Her career shows how the Marriage Bar shaped women’s lives: while men could combine marriage and profession, women like Miss Watt had to choose. Devoted to her pupils, she encouraged them to be thoughtful, moral, and well-read, embodying the dedication of a generation of single women educators whose personal sacrifices kept schools running.
Timaru Herald, Volume XCVIII, Issue 15221, 12 December 1913, Page 3
ADVICE BY MISS WATT, M.A.
At the break-up ceremony at the Timaru High School yesterday, Miss Watt, Lady Principal, delivered a little homily which was received with hearty applause.
Referring to the success of girls in life, she said: “Girls, to be successful women, must be good all round. Have we trained you at all to be successful in the home as well as in the school and the office? For remember, the happiness of the home, does, as a rule, lie in the hands of the woman. ‘If you be small, slight-natured, miserable how shall man grow?’ If you fail in sweetness and in moral strength, how shall those virtues last on in the world? It is your high calling to keep unselfishness and altruism still among us, and with it all, to gain in mental breadth, so that you will not become petty and unserious. Now, I honestly think that you girls do show these virtues in your school life, and consequently your school life is a happy one; but it is admittedly and pitifully harder to be unselfish and thoughtful for others at home, than away from it. Try hard to practise at home.
Then the girls who are leaving school I would advise to continue reading good literature. Read the great classic authors whose works have stood the test of time. Do not decline altogether upon the ephemeral productions of the pleasant but trifling writers who fill our book shops at the present time, not one in ten of whom will be read twenty years hence. It would be a counsel of perfection to tell you not to read these books at all, but read the lasting ones as well. Remember that you join a brotherhood of noble minds when you can read with pleasure Cicero and Horace, Moliere and Daudet, and all our great English authors, whose names I need not repeat now.”
- https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/THD19131212.2.10
Side Quest: What other restrictions on women have shaped lives?
- Marriage Bar in Teaching (1931–1938) – Married women teachers were forced to resign, meaning many stayed single to continue their careers.
- Women’s Franchise Restrictions (pre-1893) – Women could not vote until 1893 and could not stand for Parliament until 1919.
- Property and Marriage Laws (19th century) – Married women’s property was controlled by their husbands until reforms in 1884 gave them legal rights to own property.
- Public Service Marriage Bar (1910s–1940s) – Married women were excluded from many public service jobs, reinforcing the belief that only single women should work.
- Māori Land and Political Rights – Land laws broke up collective ownership, weakening Māori communities, and political representation was limited through the Māori seats.
- Pension Discrimination Against Women – Widows’ pensions and allowances were tightly controlled and judged on women’s moral behaviour.
- Employment Discrimination (post-war years) – Even after WWII, married women were pushed out of jobs in public service, banking, and insurance through policy and contracts.
Refrences
Timaru Girls High Archives
https://www.econstor.eu/bitstream/10419/240912/1/GLO-DP-0933.pdf