My blog wouldn’t be complete, if I didn’t write about Judith Crosland – a friend, ex-colleague and mentor, who has been an inspiration and role model. For close to ten years, we travelled across Tamil Nadu and Odisha, assessing our grantees (small non-profits) and their programs. In the evenings, after we were done with work, we would connect over a drink together either in the comfort of our hotel room or in a nearby restaurant. We were women from two different worlds separated by age, culture and social conditioning, yet we felt a kinship and a sense of ease and comfort with each other, that allowed us to easily discuss our lives, our families and share confidences. It has been a few years since we last met in person (we keep in touch via WhatsApp calls and messages), but still carry within each other deep bonds that cannot be severed by time and distance. Read Part I of Judith’s conversation with me, as we talk about her early days of travel, her decision to go to University as an older student, her transition from working with the government  to working with a non -profit and how her intention to empower poor rural women took root.

Could you start by telling us a little bit about where you are from?

I was born in 1944 in Sydney but grew up in a seaside village on the west coast of Australia. My mother had a business on the waterfront and my father worked in an oil refinery.  It was a seaside village visited by tourists during the summer, mostly pastoralists who owned holiday homes there.  Following high school I went to a business school where I learned typing, shorthand and bookkeeping. I taught in that school for a little time before joining the Commonwealth Public Service in Canberra as a government employee where I worked for a couple of years. Like Delhi, Canberra is the country’s Capital centre for  embassies and government departments.

But you were bitten by the travel bug…

I was young and decided I wanted to see the world. I went by ship to Canada. My original plan was to travel via Europe to a Kibbutz. (A kibbutz is a community settlement in Israel). But I never got there. (Laughs…)  I got a few odd secretarial jobs in Canada and then soon moved to Washington DC where I worked in the Australian Embassy. I was young, in my early twenties and seeking adventure so wasn’t too worried about where I might work: I had some money saved and I was prepared to take a risk.

Your experience in Washington DC impacted you, didn’t it?

Yes, while I was in Washington DC, two major things happened. JFK had been assassinated a few years before. During my time in DC, Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King were assassinated: it was a tumultuous time with curfews and military police and riots and looting. These events left a deep impression on me about world affairs. I spent two years there. I decided to return to Australia where I met my future husband. I continued to work and then had my son.  A couple of years into my marriage, I decide that in order to achieve a more fulfilling work life, I needed to go to a university.

I was in my thirties when I attend the University of New South Wales in Sydney.  I went with the intention of studying psychology, but the timings did not suit me as I had two step-daughters (from my husband’s previous marriage) and a son to look after. Instead, I took up sociology, as the timings fitted with school hours. Sociology confirmed my understanding of inequalities and the role of women: as a housewife and mother, I felt certain inequalities in my domestic life. It was also true that gender roles in the workplace were not equitable and were defined very differently in society. What worked for men, didn’t work for women and the issue of gender became personal and a passion.

It took me four years to finish my undergraduate degree, because of my commitments and responsibilities and then another two years for an MA in Gender Studies.

Did your degree in Gender Studies open up interesting avenues for you?

I was again working with the Commonwealth Government and at the time that legislation had just been passed whereby all Govt departments were required to have equal representation of women, men, indigenous communities and non-English speaking employees within their workplaces. I was in the right place at the right time, working in the area of human resources: I applied for the newly created position of Equal Employment Coordinator within each Department. In that position, I had the responsibility for bringing equality into the workplace of some thousands of employees.

And then the travel bug bit you again…

I worked with the Commonwealth in this position for ten years which was challenging and difficult work. Entitled to take six months of leave with full pay at this time, I went to Perugia in Italy to a language school, for three months then travelled through Europe. When I returned to my work, I felt it was time for someone else to take over.

My life had gone through many changes; I divorced mid-way through my Masters. I experienced other relationships; my son went to university and I no longer had the same level of responsibility. I decided I would do something different and planned to find a retreat in France where I might run a workshop on creative arts – writing, photography, painting and spirituality in France.

At the language school in Toulouse I met a friend with similar ideas and we found ourselves a farmhouse deep in the French countryside which provided gites (tiny dwellings that people rent for holidays). It was perfect accommodation for the workshop. I coordinated the six workshops and employed others to facilitate their content.

At the end of the workshops, a friend of mine asked if I would be interested in a position at the Commonwealth Secretariat based in London. To my surprise, I was selected and, in 1995, I began to work with the Director for Gender and Youth Affairs. I was employed to do two things: to turn around inequalities in the Secretariat itself; and to develop a Strategic Plan to ensure that the programs developed by developing countries brought about equality and equitability. It was this plan that the Secretariat took to the UN Conference on Women held in China. By this time, I was in my fifties.

 And then there were a few events that changed your perspective and direction of your career?

Yes, when I was with the Commonwealth Secretariat I attended a Microcredit Conference in Washington, DC. At the conference, I got into the elevator and found myself alone with Dr Muhammed Yunus who set up the Grameen Bank in Bangladesh. We had a very brief exchange: I told him how much I admired him for what he had achieved and that I wanted to do something to help women. He said, “If I can do it, so can you.” That had a real impact on me, as did the conference. I thought microcredit was a brilliant idea: it gave the most impoverished women the opportunity to work for themselves.

Around the same time, I got involved with the Gandhi Foundation in London. I met the Secretary General of the Gandhi Foundation, Mr. Surur Hoda and discussed the concept of microcredit at Foundation meeting. He was impressed with my passion and asked if I would help run his charity, the India Development Group (precursor to Jeevika Trust). I told him I had never worked for a charity and wasn’t sure I could help. He asked me to take his card anyway.

Eventually, my consultancy work dried up and I went to work for Surur Hoda and his charity. The very first funding application I wrote brought in a lot of money – around £240,000 for a microcredit mint-farming project for women near Lucknow in UP. My dreams were on their way!