When she returned to New Zealand she resumed her education, completing a Bachelor's degree in 1991, followed by a Master's and a Post-Graduate Diploma in clinical psychology. She has gone on to forge a stellar career and last month was installed as Auckland University's first full-time Maori appointee as a doctorate of clinical psychology lecturer.
The key to all this, as Dr Dudley herself says, was hard slog and the support of her family and community, including in her case that of Te Runanga o Te Rarawa. And while we can't all expect to achieve academic honours of this calibre, or academic honours at all, there is a lesson here that should be heeded.
Being born into what in those days was undoubtedly financial poverty no less real than we are told disadvantages tens of thousands of New Zealand children today was not insurmountable then, and need not be now. Nor need the occasional wrong turn prove fatal to future success. Margaret Dudley was handed more excuses to fail than most and has not done so. Clearly she accepted at an early age that nothing in life comes free and that what she got out of life depended on what she put into it.
And while she might be inspirational, she is not unique. TVNZ's sorry excuse for current affairs television programming, Seven Sharp, ran a story recently about three young doctors, all cousins, two from Waimamaku and the third from Okaihau, who were now employed as house surgeons at Whangarei, Middlemore and New Plymouth hospitals. They could have been clones of the Far North's adopted medical success story Lance O'Sullivan, who overcame a less than propitious start to life to not only succeed in his chosen field but become a figure of national and international importance, and New Zealander of the Year in 2014.
Like so many before and after them, on the face of it these three young doctors from the Mid North would not have been prime candidates for success in any field, let alone medicine. What stood out in their story was the effect of growing up within a family who had expectations that they would work hard and achieve to their potential, whatever form that potential might have taken.
More evidence of the benefits of parental expectation is offered by the Davis family from Kawakawa. As they have been heard to say, one of the three sons (Kelvin, teacher, principal, now politician) makes the law, another (Pat, a police officer) enforces it, and the third (District Court judge Greg) applies it. Their sister has had a successful career in education.
Greg Davis has told the writer that he and his siblings, his sister included, were born with a Bible in one hand and a rugby ball in the other, but there is much more to it than that. Like Margaret Dudley, they were expected to work hard and not to make excuses. Kelvin has said that the most loving word his parents ever said to him was 'No,' and he heard plenty of it. He says too many people now are afraid to be parents and their children are paying dearly for that.
The Davis children knew from their pre-school days that they were expected to complete high school through to what is now Year 13, then go into the forces, get an apprenticeship or enrol at university. There were no other options. Their parents, neither of whom had more than a very basic education, had non-negotiable expectations that laid the foundations for four very successful careers.
So what has changed since Kelvin Davis unsuccessfully sought permission to leave school part-way through Year 13? Nothing. The opportunities that their parents insisted were theirs to take are still there, and perhaps even more accessible. Margaret Dudley, the Mid North medics, Lance O'Sullivan and the Davis clan did not have access to an education that was reserved for the privileged. They had none of the advantages that we are repeatedly told, falsely, depend on money. What they did have were parents who were determined, come hell or high water (as Kelvin Davis says), that they would fulfil their potential.
Their parents knew that their children were not naturally endowed with common sense or far-sightedness. They knew that the key to success in life, not just financially but in every sense, was hard work and the exploitation of the gifts with which they were born.
The same applies now to every child in Te Hiku, and in this country. New Zealand offers opportunities, not least in terms of education, that millions of people on this sorry planet would die for, so why do we continue to cry woe is us? It is inexcusable that so many do not take advantage of those opportunities, and a tragedy that talent beyond measure is wasted by those who possess but do nothing with it, and by parents who lack the ability or the inclination to give their children the two things they most need from them - roots and wings.
The first thing any child must do to benefit from the education system of course is turn up, but that isn't enough. There is no reason why every parent should not be able to instil in their children the dreams and the discipline they will need to become happy, fulfilled adults.
The examples given here should not be aberrations. They are evidence of what can be achieved regardless of circumstances if failure is not accepted as an option.
It doesn't matter if a child is not destined to become a judge, a teacher, a doctor, a police officer, an architect or an engineer. What matters is that they be taught, from the earliest age, that their future is in their hands, and that they are expected to work hard to achieve it.
Look up, Te Hiku, not down. Look at the opportunities that are all around you, and make the most of them. Don't look for reasons to fail but opportunities to succeed. And if you need inspiration look around. There is no shortage of uplifting examples.
