'At 16 my ambition was to die, Cork Life Centre saved me'
Bullied mercilessly, Amber Sheridan O’Callaghan found secondary school unbearable. She dropped out of school, and began hanging around with people who had a bad influence on her, was sexually assaulted at 16, but attending Cork Life Centre ‘saved my life’. She is now studying psychology at Waterford IT. Picture: Larry Cummins
“If it wasn’t for the Life Centre, I don’t know where I’d be,” says Amber Sheridan O’Callaghan. “If you asked me at 16 what I wanted to be, I probably would have said ‘Dead, if I’m lucky’.”
Bullied mercilessly, Amber found secondary school unbearable. She dropped out of school, and began hanging around with people who had a bad influence on her. At 16, Amber suffered a sexual assault, something which had a devastating effect on her.
Asked by her mother to give the Life Centre a chance, a voluntary organisation offering one-to-one tuition to young people who find themselves outside of mainstream education, Amber says going there saved her life, and was the making of her.
The centre’s staff persuaded her to talk with a counsellor, something she was against at first, but which proved extremely beneficial.
Seeing her writing the works of great poets in calligraphy, the centre’s director, Don O’Leary, suggested that Amber should try writing her own poetry. Dismissing this at first, she soon discovered a talent and a passion which sustains her every day.
Now 22, Amber is in her final year of studying Psychology in college, and looks forward to doing a Masters next year in either Neuroscience or Criminology. She says she owes everything to the Life Centre, and she thinks of teachers like Don O’Leary, deputy director Rachel Lucey, and administrator Thomas Mulcahy, as family.
The Cork Life Centre has just completed its 20th anniversary year, and it recently tweeted that it is in the same position now as it was when it completed its first year: “struggling for State support”.
Leaving our 20th year the same way we finished our 1.Struggling for State support. Those that don't know us well, we would never put young people under pressure. It has touched our hearts to have students & former student's come in & demand their voice be heard. #ItsTheirRight pic.twitter.com/b6aFMBBng5
— Cork Life Centre (@CorkLifeCentre) July 20, 2021
Situated on Winter’s Hill on Cork’s northside, the Life Centre is based in what was built 250 years ago as the Lord Mayor’s home, with sweeping views down across the Lee’s north channel, toward the old Cork Mansion House, now the Mercy Hospital, and beyond to the spires of St Finbarr’s Cathedral.
For the past two decades the centre’s red door has offered a welcome and a shelter to hundreds of young people who have fallen between the cracks of Ireland’s one-size-fits-all education system.
The Life Centre has been in the news since Taoiseach Micheál Martin announced in May an additional €100,000 in funding for the centre, on top of the Department of Education’s annual allocation of €77,500, as well as the creation of 12 teaching positions, a development which seemed at the time to guarantee the centre’s long-term future.
In recent weeks, however, that certainty has evaporated, with the centre protesting that the department intends not to fund its current teachers and tutors, some of whom begin as volunteers before going on to work part-time and full-time, but rather to draft in teachers from the Cork Education Training Board (CETB) to replace current staff.
Life Centre director Don O’Leary is adamant that Micheál Martin is an honourable man who has acted in good faith and has always been a friend to the Life Centre. He says that representatives from across the political spectrum have been unfailing in their support of the Life Centre.
My @irishexaminer report: "Future of Cork Life Centre at risk, says director Don O'Leary" @CorkLifeCentre https://t.co/gbdeTv76p3
— Donal O’Keeffe (@Donal_OKeeffe) July 11, 2021
A spokesperson for the Department of Education said the Life Centre “stands to benefit from the equivalent of over €450,000 of education-related supports”. The Life Centre disputes that figure as “wildly exaggerated”.
The department said it had set out a process whereby the centre and the CETB “could work together to allow the €100,000 provided by the department to be used to support security of employment for [its current] staff”.
The spokesperson said that the department has recently written to the centre outlining the terms of a sustainable framework to support the centre into the future, and “will continue to work with the centre as long as it is willing to remain engaged.” Mr O’Leary claims there is no framework, beyond a desire to put the Life Centre under the CETB.
The problem, he suggests, is that the department simply does not understand or appreciate the work of the Cork Life Centre, cannot imagine any form of alternative education, and is unwilling to accept that there is what he calls a “vast scrapheap of the department’s failures onto which kids are thrown through no fault of their own”.
William Cooper is someone who might well have found himself on that scrapheap. A self-confessed messer who had a problem with authority figures, he says his memories of first and second year in a Cork secondary school are horrible.

“One teacher told me I’d never amount to anything, and slagged off my dad. That really affected me, because I love my dad and I look up to him.” William began “bunking off school”, forging his father’s signature on permission slips, and was eventually offered the choice of leaving voluntarily or being expelled.
“There I am, half-way through second year and I’m out of school.” William and his dad had a meeting with Don O’Leary, and although the centre was “packed” at the time, it was agreed that William could come in for two hours each afternoon, and the following year, he attended full-time.
“Before the Life Centre, I would’ve said ‘Me chance my arm at education? Are you for real?’ But I went from forging my dad’s signature to coming in early and wanting to get an award for not missing a single day. And I got my Junior Cert.” He credits the centre for changing the way he looks at the world, and at himself.
Now 21, William is a six-time Irish champion in jujitsu, and has fought for Ireland in the European Mixed Martial Arts championships.

Jessie Griffin was diagnosed as a child with dyslexia, dyspraxia and autism. She struggled in primary school, experiencing literacy difficulties. She says she liked secondary school, but suffered badly from stress.
“I went to the Life Centre because I couldn’t survive in mainstream anymore,” Jessie says. “I don’t think that I would have made it to Leaving Cert, and I don’t know if I would have made it to my 20s in mainstream, because my mental health was taking such a drastic turn from stress.”
A talented artist with a style heavily influenced by Japanese manga, Jessie last year published the first issue of her autobiographical comic series, , and she says she was able to do this thanks to the encouragement of family and friends, and the tools given to her by the Life Centre to help cope with daily stress.
One of the themes of the book is how Jessie lives with her autism, and she is passionate about educating the public that disability is not always visible, and mental health struggles are not always obvious on the surface. She is grateful to the Life Centre for all it did for her, and worries that other young people would miss out in the future if anything were to happen the centre.
Jessie has just turned 20 and the book is “a bit on hold” as she studies animation in college, but she works on it when she can, and she says life is good.
Liam Tague dropped out of school in first year, crippled by anxiety, and when he started third year in the Life Centre nowhere else would take him.

“I came in with no expectations, except expecting to hate every minute, and instead, I loved it, and I got a good Junior Cert,” Liam says.
Deciding to stay for his Leaving Cert, Liam says his friends in conventional education were very stressed by the pressure they were under, “whereas for me, in the Life Centre, my experience was super laid-back.” Liam is 19 now, and going into the second year of a post-Leaving Cert course in music, management, and sound in Coláiste Stiofáin Naofa.
“I barely listened to music before I came here, but I started going to the music club here, and I ended up discovering that I really, really like music a lot. That’s a really good example of how this place helps you grow, and come to recognise your own self-worth.
“Being here grew my self-confidence and lessened my anxiety. The Life Centre is an amazing resource for anyone who finds themselves in a place like where I was. The staff here is what makes the Life Centre, and bringing in external staff would just make this place just a place like everywhere else,” he says.
Rhys Wootten, whose personal pronouns are “they” and “their”, says the Life Centre has always been exceptionally accepting of members of the LGBTQI+ community.
“The staff have always told me to correct them if they accidentally misgender me or call me by the wrong name, and it does happen, but that’s because they’ve known me a long time, and we always laugh about it.” Rhys, who had a pre-existing diagnosis of dyspraxia, attended mainstream education until fourth year, when their anxiety sent them into a terrible tailspin.
Obsessive about academic success, Rhys considered anything less than 100% a failure. “I was working on my studies every night until 2 and 3am, and waking at 5am for fear of oversleeping. By fourth year, I was burnt out.”
Beset by panic attacks and suffering from severe depression, Rhys began to self-harm. Extremely withdrawn, Rhys reached the point where they didn’t know if they could carry on, and their mum arranged a meeting with the Life Centre.

“I was so anxious that I don’t remember most of the interview, but the one thing I do remember is Don saying I could get 600 points and it wouldn’t matter as I would have had a breakdown.” Conditioned by mainstream education, Rhys struggled with the centre’s more informal approach.
“I couldn’t call Don and Rachel and Thomas by their first names for ages. It just felt wrong. I struggled too with the timetable, which is very flexible and subject to change. Long-term, that was really good for me. When I went to college, I was so grateful that the Life Centre had taught me how life isn’t always linear or rigid.”
For Rhys, a turning point came with success in a UCC essay competition. “Everyone was delighted for me, and it was then I started to think maybe these people care more about me than about results, and maybe there is more to education than exam results.
“After that, I opened up to a counsellor in the centre, and that made such a difference to my life. I started to write notes to Don and Rachel, and those notes became the basis of a book I wrote called I’m Fine.” Rhys is 24 now and graduated from UCC in 2020, and volunteers 10 hours a week as a maths tutor in the Life Centre.
Last year Rhys addressed the Oireachtas Joint Education Committee on the work the centre does. Rhys is “disgusted” by the Department of Education’s behaviour.
“They have wasted months of the centre’s time and energy, when they know time is tight as we try to prepare for the new academic year.”
Life Centre administrator Thomas Mulcahy, who has sat quietly on the sidelines as a supportive friend while former students have been interviewed by the , asks to make one comment to current students, and to friends and family, as the centre faces the future.
“Please don’t worry,” he says. “We’re here in September, and we’ll struggle on together from there.”
The Cork Life Centre began in 2000, offering an alternative learning experience to young people failed by mainstream education. The second of three such centres set up in Ireland since 1996, it is now the sole survivor.
Ireland’s life centres were founded on the Servol (Service Volunteered for All) model of education established in Trinidad in the 1970s by Catholic priest Fr Gerry Pantin.
Servol is based on three tenets devised by Fr Pantin. The first is “the philosophy of ignorance”, meaning educators should never assume to know what is best for any individual student.
The second is attentive listening, which is considered essential for educators in building good relationships with students, and the third is respectful intervention, always asking the student “How can I help you?”
Ireland’s first life centre opened in Pearse Square in Dublin in 1996, when Brother Paul Hendrick, with the help of the Christian Brothers, brought Fr Pantin’s model of education to Ireland. Four years later the Cork Life Centre began under its first director, Brother Gary O’Shea, and it has thrived until now.
When Don O’Leary came on board in 2006, replacing Brother Gary as director, the centre had five students. This year it had 55. The third life centre opened in Cherry Orchard in 2006.
According to one local source, the County Dublin Education Training Board (CDETB) paid the staff in the Pearse Square Life Centre, but after Brother Paul retired, staffing issues led to the centre’s closure in 2015. The Department of Education says the decision to close was taken by the centre’s board.
The Cherry Orchard Life Centre, which catered for six to seven students and did not receive any departmental funding, closed last year.
“The Department of Education wants [Education Training Boards] running all these places, but there are significant governance issues with the ETB set-ups,” the source told the .
This month, Taoiseach Micheál Martin told the that it was not the intention of the Department of Education “at all” to replace current teachers and tutors with staff transferred from the Cork Education and Training Board (CETB).
“There’s an issue still to be resolved with respect of staff and at no stage do we want to suggest to the centre that they have to lose their staff,” Mr Martin said.

However, correspondence from the Department of Education to the Cork Life Centre, seen by the Irish Examiner, appears to indicate that the department is no longer willing to negotiate directly with the Life Centre but instead intends to only facilitate meetings between the centre and the Cork Education Training Board (CETB).
Of three Irish centres based upon Fr Pantin’s model of student-centred alternative education, the Cork Life Centre is the last one standing, and for staff and students, the fear is the department wishes to “mainstream” the centre, making it – as one past student put it – “a place like everywhere else” or, worse, to take over the centre completely, replacing current staff with CETB staff, and then to close it forever.





