Pam
Shand

Pam was one of those special souls whose generous spirit touched many lives: the children she taught, the parents she counselled, the teachers she mentored, the friends she supported, and the family she cherished.

I first met Pam as her assistant in the big room at Ravelston Street in Dunedin. Not long after, I met Brett, Adam and Amy, as they were always involved in what she was doing. I can't remember if it was Amy or Adam who did the cleaning. I worked with her in the mornings and remember thinking she had a magical touch with children, who seemed to calm the moment she was near. She held the little ones in such positive regard, never blaming them for their bad days as we adults are so apt to do.

When she left Ravelston Street to lead the Montessori class at Arthur Street, I was sad, but happy too, because my children would be in her class. She taught two of my three. The bond with one of them was so strong that he stayed in touch with her wherever he went. He was one of many students who didn't want her place in their lives to end when they finished primary school.

I got to work with Pam again at Arthur Street, and she continued to mentor me there, though she insisted we were colleagues. Regardless of what we called our relationship, I sought her opinion often and invariably followed her advice. One highlight at Arthur Street was school camp. In those days alcohol hadn't yet been banned, so once the children were in bed, the parents and helpers sipped wine, took turns checking on the kids, and played silly games. Face-off was a favourite, and had us laughing uproariously as we made monkey, donkey and snake noises while trading cards.

Beyond our work with children, we collaborated on MANZ: writing and editing newsletters together, organising conferences, and serving on the MANZ council while it was based in Dunedin. Pam could always be trusted for sage counsel. When we were at a crossroads and unsure what to do, a quiet question or suggestion from her soon put us back on track. I'm sure that when she got home she regaled Brett with stories of those meetings, rolling her eyes and shaking her head, but she kept that to herself!

The years rolled on, and we ended up in different places, no longer in daily contact. But we kept up with each other through conferences and workshops, by dropping in whenever we were passing, and Pam would often stay over when there was some event happening. And we always had email. Pam was forever sending me articles she'd read, things she thought were relevant to where I was or what I was doing, or the start of a wondering that we would chat back and forth about. I would do the same, though far less than Pam!

I have been out of the country for the past nine years, so our catch-ups happened when I was home. We would meet for lunch, sometimes just the two of us, sometimes with others, but always to find out what was new and to reconnect. She was always so interested in what was happening, and every time we met, she wanted to know more. Her encouragement was unstinting!

I once told Pam that I thought the most effective way to improve education would be to become Minister of Education. When we last met up, last year, she was still encouraging me, telling me it wasn't too late to sort everyone out. (She wasn't too keen on what this coalition government was doing to education!)

It's still hard to believe there will be no more lunches, emails, articles or messages from Pam, and that this wonderful person is gone. Hers was a life well lived, a life that meant something, and one I still find myself trying to emulate 35 years on.

I am so sad I can't join you at the memorial. I would have loved to have been there, but Taiwan is a bit far away. I will be thinking of you all as you gather to celebrate her amazing life, and holding you in my heart- Adam, Amy, and Tink, as you remember your mother/mother in law, and you, Brett, as you say a final goodbye to your partner in crime of so many years!

My name is Mary-Anne Reid. I first met Pam when I applied for a position with Montessori House of Children( as it was then known). And so my journey with Montessori and Pam began. Her knowledge of Montessori was phenomenal and I learnt so much. Pam's gentle manner always filled with positivity and humour made the classroom a happy place to be. Her presence at school was calming and loving. Never afraid to address " the hard stuff" with an empathy and understanding making staff feel supported and understood. Montessori conferences were a joy to attend with Pam. She was sometimes a guest speaker and how proud were we to be her colleagues when she delivered a lecture.

On a personal level Pam and I became friends. Meals at each other s homes, lunch and coffee dates. Pam's empathy when my own mother passed away, her understanding and love will always be remembered.Her support when I had a painful knee replacement surgery was invaluable, having had one herself she sent me the diary of her experience which was so very helpful to my recovery. My memories of Pam include her fabulous hair, gorgeous earrings and scarves. Always happy and smiling and ready for the next adventure. And for those of us in Blenheim the sharing of the bounty of Black Doris plums from her garden!

My husband I and were devastated to learn of Pam's illness and send her beloved Brett, Adam and Tinks, and Amy our fondest love.

Mary-Anne Reid.

So many lovely moments with Pam. I was lucky to work along side this beautiful lady for two years in Blenheim. I was a busy teacher always thinking I had to be everywhere and doing everything. Pam you would say, ‘Gail slow down when you settle the children will settle. ‘ Thanks to Pam I became a much more focussed, calm and observant educator. Brett, Adam and Amy my thoughts are with you both at this difficult time.

Even though it has been many years since Pam and I were last in touch, she is someone who frequently comes to mind. She was my true mentor in all things Montessori. Her early guidance and belief in me not only helped me grow as an educator, but also shaped me as a young woman trying to navigate the working world. Pam was the ultimate role model—defined by an inspiring work ethic, deep professionalism, and a true passion for teaching. She was warm yet firm, incredibly kind, and possessed a wonderful sense of humour that I always enjoyed.

I rediscovered my cousin Pam a couple of years ago when her daughter, Amy, reached out to me to see if a Facebook post by our local museum that mentioned Ralph Moses was our Ralph Moses. Yes, the post was about Pam’s and my grandfather during his early years in La Canada, California. Pam reached out to me and we started an occasional email conversation. I learned that Pam and I are kindred spirits, and I wished then and wish now that we had been able to get to know each other while we were growing up. Pam was the youngest of three siblings while I was the youngest of six siblings. When I was born Pam was happy that she wasn’t the youngest cousin any more. Though there were plenty of girl cousins in the extended Moses family, Pam had the dubious fortune to be the only girl among the younger cousins. There were her brother, Clarke, my two older brothers and me and the two youngest sons of the Morrow family. It was hard for her to find common ground with all of us boys, and we didn’t know what to do with Pam. Now I find myself wishing for more time on FaceTime, more shared stories, and more shared love. I treasure my new connection with Amy and Adam and Tink and Brett, and want you to know that you have a forever home here in the house that Ralph built in La Canada.

When I think about Pam, I realise she has been part of my life for such a long time.

I first knew her through Montessori in the 1990s. I remember travelling to Dunedin to spend time in her primary class at Arthur Street School, staying with Pam and Brett out on the peninsula, and walking up the hill. Over the years, our paths continued to cross at Montessori gatherings and professional events. Pam was so gracious about accepting the challenge of writing for Montessori News and sharing her wonderful wisdom. She had such a special—and delicious—way of saying things that somehow made you realise you understood more than you thought you did.

In more recent years, when I was living in Wellington, Rob and I visited Pam and Brett several times at Te Horo for lunch. Those were very special occasions, full of interesting conversations. Pam brought such curiosity and generosity of thought and intellect to everything. I remember the particular look that would come over her face when she said, “Oh, I want to come back to this”—and she always did. She listened, reflected and followed through.

When Rob had terminal cancer a couple of years ago, Pam was there at the end of a text or an occasional phone call. She had an extraordinary ability to reflect the joy of life back to me and to make me feel that perhaps I was managing better than I thought I was. She was a great sharer of joy and love. I found it so comforting when Pam said she was lighting a candle for us. It made me feel that we were truly held in her thoughts.

In recent years, she had become one of those people I wanted to tell when something momentous happened. In the final weeks of her life, we were in touch, and she wrote to me, “Thanks for a life of wonderful role-modelling and much more.” Her words surprised me, because I had never imagined that I might have been a role model for Pam. Perhaps, in some way, I had been. But she had certainly been a role model for me for a very long time.

Pam will be missed by so many. Although she was only an occasional presence in my day-to-day life, she was a deeply significant one, and I feel her loss profoundly.

My love and thoughts are with all those who were closest to her, and particularly with you, Brett. You and Pam were such wonderful companions in life. She leaves behind so many precious memories, but I know that you will be feeling her absence more deeply than anyone.

Moe mai rā, e Pam, i runga i te rangimārie.

It's kind of impossible to pick a single memory, a single image, a single story. I will remember Pam for over-stuffing tacos. For loving the dogs. For always asking such good questions. For wanting to move to Peka Peka so she could be a part of the intergenerational conversations around the big table. For her beloved garden, and for how furious she was the bunnies for eating it. For the number of exclamations marks she used, with such enthusiasm, in her emails. For the sound of the laundry door closing, knowing it was a Pam. And even now, sometimes I find myself hearing the laundry door being closed and I think 'Oh it's just Pam'. How I wish it was just Pam. (Photo, Christmas at Peka Peka, 2017)

When I think of Pam, the picture that comes up is this kind of shrewd, funny, knowing, playful? look that she would do. I don't have a word to describe it, but it was very cool :-D