Last year, I had the honour of being asked to be on the judging panel for one of the categories at the Women’s Agenda Leadership Awards.
As a co-founder of Huskee, a sustainable coffee cup business, I could see I could bring value in my experiences in the small business category. But really? Me? I thought there were many other people out there more qualified than me—and do they know that I’m a man?
As I considered the opportunity, I reflected on my role as a father, recalling how my daughter used to play with her brothers’ friends without a thought; her and 12 boys. Then one day, something just switched and one small social layer was added. Boys and girls were suddenly on different sides of the room. It made me more intentional in how I parent as a father to my daughter, and also how to teach my boys how to relate to girls.
I decided to accept the role as a judge, and the awards process became an inspiring and eye-opening process. I was not surprised that there were so many amazing women with vision and resilience, making an impact. It was inspiring to see how the finalists sought to overcome a range of issues through businesses, and learn about how they looked to achieve it. I realised the extent of the extra obstacles they have to face.
As one of the few men in a room with over 300 attendees at the Women’s Agenda Leadership Awards gala dinner, the stream of inspiration continued. The winners each showed a glimpse into the best of humanity and had their own way of making an impact with integrity. They believed in something so much and hadn’t given up in the face of adversity.
One of the winners started her acceptance speech by describing who her inspiration was, and it prompted me to ask myself the same question. The answer came easy: it’s my daughter Tegan.
Tegan embodies so many things that I saw in these women at the awards night. She has talent on so many fronts; as a songwriter, artist, entrepreneur, with her intelligence and in sport. Yet, it is her drive to reach her goals, her individual resilience, and ultimately her heart for people, to see her friends and loved ones be all they can be.
As I looked around at the awards night, talked to people, and listened to stories, all of the things that Tegan stands for, the things that truly matter were embodied in the people around me. I felt satisfied that I had accepted this honour as a judge.
What I haven’t told you is that when I was asked in late February to join the judging panel, the reason I had been reflecting so much on fatherhood was because in late January we lost Tegan in a tragic accident. We had been on a family holiday in New Zealand and she fell into some water rapids. I was unable to save her, my baby girl, and my world since that day has been rocked and turned upside down.
As I questioned whether I was the right person, as a man, to be asked to be on a judging panel for a women’s business award, I also questioned myself because of the pangs of guilt that I was not qualified as I did not even do my job as a father.
Yet as I thought more about Tegan’s heart, about what makes her tick, those lies about myself were outshone by the light of all that she embodied. I had begun to ask how can I live without her? I realised the answer is by living with her in my daily life and taking every opportunity to embody her values.
Tegan had many dreams. She wanted to be a business owner, a songwriter, and to create. I will miss every moment I had doing those things with her. They are dreams I will no longer be able to see come to fruition in her lifetime, but here right in front of me was an opportunity to see other women live out their dreams.
One of the award winners was Dr Naba Alfayadh, CEO and founder of Rahma Health, an organisation that supports refugee and migrant families to enjoy the magic of the first years of a child’s life. I was brought to tears by her call to all mothers to make a stand together to save the children who look to adults for safety and love, despite it being the adults that create the wars that bring so much devastation.
When Tegan fell, I was unable to save her. But here, something can be done, one life at a time. Having faced the devastation of losing my daughter, I have a taste of the reality of what loss really means. It can be easy at times to just read the news and have an opinion, but not realise that behind the story of casualties, or a story of a tragic accident, there is devastation that just cannot be expressed through words by those that live on.
It is with no surprise that Dr Naba won the category for Emerging Leader in Health AND Emerging Leader in the Not For Profit sector. She is not just talking about it, but doing something about it.
She was so inspiring that I felt a desire to get on stage and share the same message as a father. I didn’t, but here I am writing my first op-ed for a women’s news site.
I started writing this in October 2024, just after the awards night, but for whatever reason was not ready to send it. I sit here today, one day after the anniversary of Tegan’s death, having faced the most difficult past month of firsts. Christmas, New Years and now her anniversary. I ask myself why am I doing this? The answer is clear. I am finding ways to be able to walk forward with what can be.
You will note that I write about Tegan in the present, and whilst I (think) I am not in denial, it is also because it is with this mindset that I want to walk forward. While she is not here physically, I can carry who she is with me in my day-to-day life, sharing what she is about to all that I meet.
There are three main drivers for me writing this article. The obvious one is to encourage and inspire women to keep dreaming. Believe in yourselves and don’t let society tell you that you can’t do it.
Going through the award assessment process, the line I kept hearing from each applicant was how hard it was paving the way in male dominated industries. I just wonder what women could achieve if we were unified as a society.
And lastly, I write this because Tegan was all about vulnerability. I am aware that most of this readership are women, and as a man I know that many of us find it hard to talk, to express. Let’s set an example for future generations, to show them what it looks like to be real, to be vulnerable, to work together.
In losing Tegan, it is like part of me was ripped out. In any traumatic life event, we have a choice as to what perspective to take, to let fear and pain overcome or to reframe it with purpose and hope. I choose the latter, as this is what I believe Tegan would have wanted me to fight for. I hope that even if one of you is encouraged by Tegan’s story today, that will have been worth it for me.