Foundation Day 2026
At this year’s Foundation Night we welcomed back Dr Heidi Bevan (Class of 2016) as our guest speaker to reflect on her experiences since leaving Oxley.
We are pleased to share Heidi’s address, in which she reflects on her time at Oxley and the experiences that have guided her journey since graduation.
What I learnt from those conversations is that people don’t talk about their marks, or their ATAR, or the times they came first. They talk about what they did, the risks they took, the people they loved, and sometimes, the things they wish they had done.
Heidi Bevan
“Good evening everyone, my name is Heidi Bevan, and I need to start with a confession. I really don’t like public speaking… which makes tonight a slightly questionable life choice. In fact, when Mr Case called me, my first thought was “absolutely not.” But then I realised that’s exactly why I had to say yes.
Because that’s really what school, and life is about. Learning to look at something that feels uncomfortable or difficult, and doing it anyway. Giving it your best shot, even when you’re not sure how it will turn out.
I graduated from Oxley 10 years ago, which to some of you might sound like a long time ago, but to me feels like yesterday.
Since leaving Oxley, I spent a year in England working at a boarding school and travelling around Europe. Then I moved to Armidale to study Medicine. In 2022, I graduated and started working as a junior doctor. Last year, my husband and I took a second gap year, drove around Australia, and worked in rural hospitals along the way. Since then, we’ve moved to Orange, where I’ve started training to become a GP.
But enough about that, I want to reminisce on my Oxley days. Bear with me while I tell you a few stories. Some more flattering than others.
For those of you in Year 7, you’re probably all settling in… but my Year 7 experience was a series of faux pas after faux pas. I decided it was a good idea to carry all of my books around in a purple Smiggle briefcase, which, in hindsight, was a bold, borderline socially disastrous way to start high school.
I was also very “Type A,” and at one point even started a locker cleaning business with a friend. She found the clients, I cleaned the lockers, and for $2 each, we could afford a juice cup from the canteen.
At the time, I was probably just a bit of a strange kid with a purple briefcase… but looking back, I think that was one of the first times I learnt that it’s actually okay to stand out a little, and that not everything uncomfortable is something you need to run away from.
And that didn’t really change as I got older.
In Years 8 and 9, my friends and I decided we were all going to make it to the ISA swimming carnival. So naturally, we each “specialised” in a different stroke. Mine was breaststroke, and I trained so much that even in freestyle races, I was often faster just swimming breaststroke the whole way… which I’m not sure is how swimming is meant to work.
When we finally made it, we stood on the sidelines cheering each other on despite the fact that most of us came dead last. And afterwards, we celebrated with hot chips.
Because it didn’t matter whether we came first or last. What mattered was that we showed up, we tried, and we did it together.
And I think that was one of the first times I realised that success doesn’t always look like coming first. Sometimes it just looks like showing up, giving it a go, and doing it alongside people who support you.
In Years 10 and 11, I was constantly busy, choir, orchestra, hockey, I said yes to everything. At the time, I didn’t think of it as pushing myself out of my comfort zone, but that’s exactly what it was. Just trying things, saying yes, and figuring it out as I went.
And then there was Outback. Two mini buses, a lot of dust, a lot of red dirt, and a lot of breakdowns. There were plenty of times we had to pull over because something wasn’t working… whether that was the bus, the trailer, or one of us.
But in those quiet, in-between moments, we had conversations we never would have otherwise. We talked about our home lives, our struggles, and our hopes for the future. We learnt how to be vulnerable, and how to rely on each other.
And looking back, those were some of the most important moments, not the big milestones, but the quiet ones where we learnt how to be there for each other.
But despite all of that, by the time I got to Year 12, I still had no idea what I wanted to do. Medicine seemed hard, and honestly, I didn’t think I was smart enough. I knew I could work hard. I just didn’t know if that would be enough.
If I could go back and speak to my Year 12 self now, I would tell her this:
You don’t need to be the smartest person in the room. You just need to be willing to work hard, keep going, and give it a go.
Because the choice is always yours. At any point, you can decide, “actually, I do want to be a doctor… or a teacher, or a musician, or something completely different.” You get to decide your path. Not your parents, not your teachers, not your friends, you.
And it wasn’t until much later, working as a doctor, that this idea really came full circle for me.
I spent time working in a palliative care unit, where patients are cared for at the end of their lives. My role was to keep people comfortable… but one of the most meaningful parts of the job was simply sitting and listening to their stories.
One patient told me about sneaking out as a young nurse to go dancing with sailors. Another spoke about the bridges he had built as an engineer, proudly explaining each one. Another told me how much he had hoped to dance with his daughter at her Year 12 formal, and that he now wouldn’t be able to.
What I learnt from those conversations is that people don’t talk about their marks, or their ATAR, or the times they came first. They talk about what they did, the risks they took, the people they loved, and sometimes, the things they wish they had done.
So when you put all of that together… as a young person, the world should feel big and full of possibility. So the question becomes: what are you going to do with that?
The odds of any one of us being here have been estimated to be about 1 in 400 trillion. Which means every single one of you being here today is pretty extraordinary. So why wouldn’t you make the most of it? Why wouldn’t you try things, even if they feel uncomfortable? Why wouldn’t you give it your best, even if you’re not sure how it will turn out?
Tonight is a celebration of everything you’ve achieved, your effort, your growth, and you should be incredibly proud.
But if there’s one thing I hope you take away, it’s this:
Give things a go. Even when they’re uncomfortable. Even when you’re not sure you’re good enough.
Because there’s no shame in failing, but there is a cost to never trying.
So be the kind of person who shows up. Who supports your friends. Who takes opportunities when they come, even the slightly scary ones.
And if someone ever asks you to give a speech… just say yes.
And standing here now, I’m really glad I did.
Thank you.”

