“I don’t need help” is the constant refrain Linda Jordan heard from new kids in term one. By term two, that would be forgotten. Instead, they’d be laughing and joking with each other. “That was what got me to work every day, especially last year, when I was in a lot of pain.”
It’s obvious from how she speaks that Linda, who recently gave up work because of painful joint problems, really cared about these kids. She believes in fostering empathy and understanding for children and creating a relationship of mutual respect. “From that empathy you can build so many things.”
“I’m one person who can fight, but when we come together, that fighting is going to get us somewhere.”
Linda Jordan
Patience, she says, is one of those things. “You can’t rush in to do stuff, because then you end up doing it for them. Regardless of whether it takes them 30 seconds or 2 minutes to answer a question, you just have to wait.”
Throughout her career as a passionate teacher aide, she was also a dedicated union member (it’s her “second family”) and a busy grandmother. Linda’s hips and knees have let her down. She’s got bad arthritis and is waiting on joint replacements. That combined with two “beautiful little things”, her six and nine-year-old granddaughters coming into her care, meant work had to go.
“I loved it, and I found it really, really hard to have to give it up. I’m not (yet) 65, and, even if I was, I still would have found it difficult … That’s where my passion is, with the students and with union, and the two just go together.”
Linda worked while suffering from intense pain for a year before it finally pushed her to leave the children.
Linda’s dedication to union campaigns has been largely motivated by working conditions – the sort of conditions that will ultimately benefit the children.
The pivotal court case
Linda’s first fight for better conditions was on behalf of her daughter, who has additional learning needs. The Government introduced a new policy framework, Special Education 2000, which prompted the closure of the unit at the primary school where her daughter had thrived. The policy aimed to mainstream students with additional needs, tagging funding to the student. Linda and 14 other parents argued that their children should have the option of attending special education facilities. It was a protracted court battle, with a victory at the High Court later challenged by the Government at the Court of Appeal, and ultimately settled in 2003.
“We did not get everything we wanted,” reflects Linda, but she credits the court action as being part of the drive to establish resource teachers: learning and behaviour (RTLB).
And Linda learned something during that court battle that has influenced her thinking ever since: “I’m one person who can fight, but when we come together, that fighting is going to get us somewhere.”
That’s why, despite leaving her job, Linda has kept fighting for improved conditions. She’s staying on at NZEI Te Riu Roa as an honorary member, volunteering with local support staff meetings, branch work and the honours committee.
Part of the union whānau
Linda’s dedication to the union really took off in 2009, when support staff fought to break a National Government issued directive to the public service to show “pay restraint”, a move NZEI Te Riu Roa described at the time as “a blanket wage freeze”.
Push-back from the sector began with small, local gatherings. Then there was a march in Auckland.
“That’s the first time I’d ever done anything like that. My colleague and I led the march and my husband was at the tail end. We just were gobsmacked by how many people were there.”
A month later, NZEI Te Riu Roa support staff members won a wage increase, from $12.94 to $14 an hour for those at the bottom of the scale and a 1.4 percent increase for everyone else. Linda was hooked.
It was a significant win, but pales in comparison to the historic pay equity claim teacher aides won in 2020, which saw 23-34 percent pay increases.
“Do they not value the work that women do?”
Linda Jordan
In the lead-up to the pay equity claim, Linda travelled the country, interviewing teacher aides and their managers. This was crucial in gaining a thorough picture of the teacher aide role in order to find comparable male-dominated professions. She gained a deep understanding of issues in the sector and an even deeper appreciation for how well her own school – James Cook High School in Manurewa, Auckland – was operating.
“Too many teacher aides didn’t feel safe, which meant that too many of the students weren’t in safe situations,” Linda says.
Linda was “devastated” when, in early May 2025, the Government announced it was cancelling all current pay equity claims and reviews, forcing workers to restart the process from scratch. “I had to re-read it when I saw the news because I thought, ‘Hang on, this can’t be happening.’”
She said that some of her friends had told her they were crying, but she had been too angry to cry. “Do they not value the work that women do?”
The news came as NZEI Te Riu Roa was trying to negotiate an increase to support staff wages, after the union said the Ministry of Education’s November offer amounted to a “zero percent pay rise” for most staff.
Hopes for the future
At times the constant push for recognition becomes disheartening and frustrating. “It’s too hard, it’s draining, and it pulls us away from the students. We shouldn’t have to continue to fight to say that education is important.”
To Linda’s mind, part of increasing the mana of teacher aides will be supporting the workforce to get qualified. She has two qualifications herself; a Certificate in Educational Support, and a Diploma in Human Services.
“You’re not just a local mum who’s coming into school because you need some extra hours to pay some bills. You have valuable skills and these need to be recognised.”
Linda’s union work was acknowledged with an associate award in 2014, something which “was a massive honour” from her colleagues and helped her keep the passion going.
For Linda, the most important aspect of her work was helping students form friendships. She’s watched her own family members struggle with that, one turning to bullying in an attempt to make friends, another telling her, devastatingly, “I’ve got no friends”.
“It’s so, so important, [helping them] create relationships,” she says. “It’s our job to try and build on that.”
Twice during our interview, Linda wondered what past students were doing now. Sometimes her former colleagues provide her with updates, which bring her much joy. “I get a warm feeling when I see them happy and being fully included.”
