Maive McKenzie
11 January 2025, 6:58 PM
I was born in Lismore but grew up in Tenterfield, a small country town, with my mum. She was a single mother, so it was just the two of us.
My childhood was very family-oriented, revolving around my mum and my grandparents. I had one set of grandparents who lived in Tenterfield and another set in Lismore, and I saw both regularly.
Some of my fondest memories are of spending time with my grandparents. They were such an important part of my childhood, and even though all four of them have passed on, those memories remain incredibly special to me.
Since I didn’t have any siblings, I was really close to my cousins, and we spent a lot of time together. My mum worked at a doctor’s surgery in Tenterfield for as long as I can remember, and she’s still there now. I think she’s overdue for retirement, but I’m not sure how well she’d handle it since she’s always been so busy. She’s worked as a Practice Manager at the same doctor’s surgery for years and has always been incredibly dedicated to her work.
I read a lot and rode horses while growing up—classic country child hobbies, I suppose. I got into our local pony club and also joined the swimming club. I did all those activities kids typically do. I was never particularly good at team sports or sports in general, but I gave it a go.
I moved to Lismore to study at Southern Cross University and lived on campus while I started a sports tourism degree. However, I quickly transitioned to social work, which felt like a better fit for me, and I’ve stayed here ever since.
I completed my degree in social work and went on to do a postgraduate degree in psychology. After all that study, I found my place in the disability industry and have held various roles over the years. The most prominent being in leadership within the Early Childhood Intervention (ECI) program and Allied health here on the Far North Coast.
I’ve always been passionate about working with children and young adults, which was my focus during my social work studies. That interest has guided my career and shaped the work I’ve done in different areas of the disability sector. I’ve never left the industry and don’t plan to—it’s something I truly enjoy and find meaningful.
What keeps me in the industry is a deep, innate drive for equality. I can see that society hasn’t quite reached a point of true inclusivity for people with disabilities, and I’m committed to ensuring that my work always aligns with that value. Now that I have children—and one of them has a disability—this mission has become the main driving force in my life. It’s something I’m incredibly passionate about and dedicated to pursuing.
I met my partner through work while I was at university. I was a swimming teacher at the local council facilities in Lismore, and so was my partner. That’s how we met. We eventually got married and now have three boys, who are seven, five, and eighteen months old. Life is definitely very busy!
Life is hectic with three boys at home, and we’re definitely not short on extracurricular activities since we seem to say yes to everything. We do cricket, soccer, swimming—you name it, we’re probably doing it.
My middle child, George, is five years old, and he’s autistic and selectively mute, though we prefer to describe him as selectively verbal. It’s both challenging and wonderful at the same time. George has taught me so much about myself and about society’s expectations.
He’s the kindest, sweetest little boy, but watching him struggle to fit into a world that isn’t designed for him has been eye-opening.
Lately, that’s been a big driving force behind a lot of the work I do. My goal is to ensure he grows up in a society that welcomes him with open arms and truly includes him.
The swimming program actually stemmed from George and his experience. As I mentioned, my partner and I both worked at the Goonellabah Sports and Aquatic Centre, as well as the Lismore Memorial Baths. My partner worked there for over 10 years, and I was there for about five, so we know the facilities well and still have a good relationship with many of the staff. It was the obvious choice for swimming lessons for our children.
Our eldest, Charlie, took to it immediately—he was like a fish in water. He’s a great little swimmer and never had any problems with lessons. But when it came time for George, things were different. While he loves the water and can swim functionally without issue, he struggled with the group setting, the bright lights, the noise, and all the sensory input. Whenever we’d arrive for swimming lessons, he would freeze up and couldn’t participate. It was a real struggle.
The main issue I had with private lessons, despite how beneficial they could be for teaching George the skill, was that they were exclusionary by nature. He would be left out of the same group experience that his peers—other neurotypical three- and four-year-olds—received simply because they didn’t face the same challenges he did. That didn’t sit right with me. I felt that there had to be a better way.
So, I developed a program that is group-based, specifically for individuals who identify as having a disability and struggle with mainstream swimming lessons. Whether it’s the sensory overload, we reduce visual input and dim the lights, or if it’s the noise, we schedule the program during quieter times at the pool. Mainstream swimming lessons often come with a lot of demands—staying on task, listening, interacting with strangers, and maintaining focus.
For my son, who is autistic, those are all challenges and skills he is yet to develop. Executive functioning—being present, concentrating, and handling the cognitive load of the lesson—can be especially difficult for autistic individuals. I think of the program as ‘pre-swimming lesson skills’. The skills they need before being able to engage in mainstream lessons.
My program allows kids to come as they are. If they get off track, if they can’t concentrate, or if we need to throw the plan out the window and just play a game for the half hour, that’s okay. They’re still learning the skills but in an environment that’s much more accessible to them. I truly hoped that this approach would resonate beyond just my own experience. And sure enough, as soon as we launched it, the pilot program filled up within 24 hours, and I had a waiting list. That confirmed it for me—this wasn’t just something I needed; it was something that was truly needed by others as well.
When it comes to making society more accessible for people with disabilities, I think it’s about being less rigid and structured in our expectations. If I could change the school system, I would, but we’re stuck with the current setup. In schools, kids are expected to sit in classrooms for nearly six hours a day, focus, and keep it all together. For a child like George, though, that’s a huge challenge. He’ll be the one swinging on his chair, looking out the window, and fixated on the one butterfly you talked about three days ago, or Pokémon and yet, we expect him to sit and absorb all this information, just like any other child. It’s the same with mainstream swimming lessons.
We often expect kids to come in and swim laps, maybe one or two laps, or do some kicking drills, but for kids like George, that’s not engaging. They lose interest almost immediately, and it’s not fun for them. They don’t understand why they need to do it that way. If we could make swimming fun and exciting for kids who struggle with attention and following tasks, it would be a whole different experience. We don’t have to stick to the same methods we’ve always used. I really wish that message could be more widely understood.
In terms of our swimming program, that's exactly the approach we take. For example, we had a child bring 15 monster trucks to the lesson. In a mainstream setting, they’d be told they couldn’t bring them because it might distract the other kids, and they’re there to learn to swim. But in our program, it’s different. We asked, “How can we incorporate these monster trucks?” So, we put them all at the bottom of the pool, and he swam to them.
That's the beauty of it—if we can take the pressure off, they’ll learn the skills at their own pace. One of my favourite sayings is, “If kids can, they will.” Kids naturally want to succeed, but they’ll do it in their own time and in their own way.
I think the biggest challenge has been funding but I’m really lucky to work for a workplace that supported me. And when I pitched the program, they responded with, “How can we help?” They were incredibly supportive in getting it up and running. But keeping it going still requires funding and time. Funding is an issue that applies across the board, especially when it comes to inclusion in society.
Another challenge is people's willingness to try something new, something outside the box or that hasn’t been done before. I’m sure my boss thought my idea sounded a bit crazy when I first pitched it. But despite that, it’s been a challenge worth tackling. The swimming program isn't perfect yet, and we're still working on improving it. The more people that come through the program, the more we learn and can adapt.
Accessibility hasn't been a major challenge, but finding the right time to run the program has been. As busy parents ourselves, I understand that not everyone can make it on a Friday afternoon. We've had to choose a time and go with it for now, but we’re hopeful we can expand and grow from there.
If you ask my husband, he'd probably say I don’t have any hobbies outside of work. Being a mum is my main focus—it's what I do. I try my best to create a happy and healthy life for my family. I do enjoy going to the gym and I have some wonderful friends, but honestly, my main hobby is being a mum. It might sound boring, but that’s what I’m all about.
The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that if you don’t ask or try, the answer will always be no. Whenever I face a challenge or get frustrated about something, my mindset is always, “How can I fix this?” I’ve realised that if I don’t take action, nothing is likely to change. So, when I feel stuck or frustrated, I remind myself that it’s up to me to make a change. I can advocate for it. It might not always work out, but it will definitely never work if I don’t try.
The most rewarding thing in the last 12 months has definitely been my community work, both paid and unpaid, aside from raising my three children, which is incredibly rewarding in itself.
At work, I feel like I’m finally on the right track. I’ve always wanted my work to add value to the community, and I’ve been able to do that through my role as president of the East Lismore Community Preschool. My focus is on making the community a better place for my children and all the kids here. I started volunteering on the preschool committee years ago with the aim of helping out—I had the idea that it was going to be a Bunning’s Sausage Sizzle every now and then. But somehow, six months in, I found myself as president, and here I am, three and a half years later—still haven’t cooked a single sausage!
The last 12 months have been really strong for me. With the preschool, we’re in the final stages of rebuilding after the flood, and at my job we’ve launched the swimming program. There are also a few more initiatives that are about to be rolled out. On top of that, raising three children, it just feels like everything is finally in a good place. It’s a nice balance right now, which is really fulfilling. And then something like this or the article I had in The Australian Women's Weekly about the swimming program pops up, and it surprises me. It’s never been about personal recognition for me. I never thought I’d end up here. But it’s rewarding to see the program being recognised as something needed and valuable. For me, it’s all about the value of the work, not about the recognition of myself.
Ultimately, my goal is for the program to no longer be necessary. I want to see either upskilling in mainstream programs or a shift in the landscape so that people with disabilities are seamlessly included in mainstream activities. The necessary changes and modifications should be a standard part of what society offers, rather than creating separate programs. The idea is that one size doesn’t fit all, and modifications should be made to meet individuals' needs. There are people who may not identify as having a disability but would still benefit from these adjustments.
We laugh every Friday when we turn off the bright lights in the pool for the program—not all of them, just the really bright ones. It’s amazing to see how everyone responds when the lights go off, and then the arghs when they’re turned back on. It always makes me wonder: why do we have to turn them back on? It’s a council facility, and they say they have to be on, but when they’re off, it just feels better. It’s those small things, like turning off the lights, that can make a real difference. Reducing sensory overwhelm benefits everyone, not just those who identify as having a disability.
Looking back at my career, to say what I’m most proud of is the easy go-to is the swimming program, but I’ve also worked in several workplaces on the Far North Coast, and over time, I’ve focused on building teams with a shared passion and purpose. In my current role, we started with a small team of three people, and now we’ve grown to ten. The more we grow, the greater difference we can make. While I’m certainly proud of the swimming program, I’m also proud of growing a team that supports people and adds value to the community.
Looking ahead, I'm not entirely sure, but I know my focus will remain on the same pillars. For me, it's about contributing to the community and improving people’s lives. I want to continue working within the disability community, especially for people like my son and others with differing abilities, making things as inclusive as possible.
In May, I launched the Far North Coast Interagency Disability network because we have so many different groups, such as NDIS, that do similar work, and there is no reason to do this solo. I believe in collaboration rather than competition, and it’s about adding value to the industry. I put out a call to other providers, and nearly one hundred people came together to form a strong local community of providers. We’re continuing to grow and learn from each other.
For me, it's all about the swimming program and that interagency network. If we can make it work in the swimming program, it will set an example of what can be done.
Ultimately, my goal is to make small steps towards collaboration and inclusivity.