Venison sandwiches in her lunchbox. Weekends in the paddocks with her dad. For Leila Kasprzak, growing up on a Birdwood deer farm instilled a love of nature and community that now shapes her work as Principal of Cambrai Primary School.

Situated just beyond the Barossa’s vineyards and rolling hills, Cambrai is about 30 minutes from Angaston. Though outside the region’s traditional boundary, its rhythms and community life are closely tied to neighbouring Barossa towns.

Leila’s path to school leadership there wasn’t a straight trajectory. She first pursued agricultural science, even researching deer genetics, until one afternoon in the lab, she paused.

“I thought, ‘maybe I’ll do night school’… and then it hit me: ‘you’ve always wanted to be a teacher’,” Leila says.

At 24, she was hired over the phone to teach in England during a teacher shortage. A six-month stint became three years.

“It was a steep learning curve,” she says, “but it confirmed teaching was where I belonged.”

Back home, Robe called. A short contract became six years by the sea, teaching Reception and Year 1 in a town where the library sat steps from the beach. Then, back in Adelaide, she gained an Advanced Skills Teacher certification, supporting more than 1,200 early career teachers statewide.

“It was exciting to feel part of something bigger than just my own classroom,” she recalls.

Leila served as Deputy Principal at Mount Compass, where she won a Public Education Award for Leadership, and was selected to attend Harvard University in the United States to study with leaders from around the world. She later moved to Flinders University to mentor graduate teachers on placement.

“I’d visit them on site, talk through their challenges, and see if teaching is where they wanted to be”, she explains.

When COVID-19 disrupted university life, Leila returned to the family farm – and began rethinking her future. She was craving the rhythm of a smaller community, and one back-road drive past Meldanda, Cambrai’s local environmental education site, sealed it.

“I thought, ‘this is really cool, and just how lucky that school was’.”

The step she had long resisted – becoming a principal – was suddenly in front of her. And this time, she said yes. Cambrai was a town she already knew from childhood road trips, when her father would point out the pipeline he had helped build.

“I honestly avoided it for a long time,” Leila admits of becoming a principal. “But I do love it. It’s a very privileged job – you have a lot of trust and a lot of influence.”

She went all in and bought the 120-year-old cottage across the road with its own historic ruin.

“I’ve never lived so close to work,” she says laughing.

“People say, ‘You need boundaries!’ But once I’m home, I’m home – and I love its history.”

Cambrai is small, with just 30 students this year. Housing shortages cap enrolments, and staffing is tough– the school is officially “hard to staff.” Inside the gate, multi-age classrooms add complexity: one combines preschool, reception and Year 1.

“So much development happens across those ages, but we make it work,” Leila says.

“They all play together, like a big mixed group of friends.”

Beyond the school gate, Leila has become part of Cambrai’s fabric – President of the Cambrai Agricultural Museum, and a member of the Mid Murray Landcare and Hall committees. From afar, the town might look dry and remote, but she sees beauty in its details.

“It’s quiet at night. And the stars? They’re amazing!”

Those stars are more than decoration. Cambrai sits within the River Murray International Dark Sky Reserve – one of the darkest places on earth. At Meldanda, a 100-acre property, Leila works with locals to protect the skies.

“Meldanda scored 21.9 on the darkness scale – 22 is the maximum,” she says proudly. 

On star party nights, telescopes dot the oval, kids climb ladders to glimpse Saturn’s rings, and neighbours swap stories under a sky that feels endless.

For Leila, that’s what small towns do best – turn their surroundings into connections.

“It all comes back to knowing and loving the place you live,” Leila says.

That philosophy is what took her and six students to Queensland for the National Landcare Conference. For two of them, it was their first time on a plane.

“They were so brave,” she says.

By the end of the week, one student, closed the entire conference before hundreds. The MC – Costa Georgiadis from Gardening Australia – had singled him out.

“From a class of 10 to a microphone before 680 delegates – it was incredible,” Leila says.

What she loves most, though, are the relationships.

“Knowing their favourite colour, their dog, which tooth is wobbly,” she smiles.

One of her first students, now in her 30s, recently wrote to say she’d never forgotten her.

“That kind of moment makes it all worth it.”

Today, Leila feels she’s exactly where she’s meant to be. With her parents still on the family farm nearby and a new 10-year tenure for principals offering stability, she’s focused on the future.

“I get bored when there are no challenges,” she admits.

“But here, there’s always something new – and always a reason to be hopeful.”

Under one of the darkest skies in the world, Cambrai Primary is a small school with a big sense of purpose. And its principal, once reluctant to take the role, is now shaping the kind of small town future she believes in.