Dawn Faroe at the Department of Biodiversity and Conservation at UWC, where she spent 41 years committing her services to the university. Image: Harriet Box

As the year draws to a close, campuses across South Africa are immersed in the familiar rhythm of exams, graduations and farewells. Yet at the University of the Western Cape (UWC), 2025 marks a particularly poignant moment: the retirement of Dawn Faroe, a woman whose 41-year journey has quietly but profoundly reshaped the institution. 

The resident from Belhar in Cape Town does not see her departure as simply the end. Many university staffers and students view her career as the closing of a chapter in which structures were built, opportunities created, and futures secured for generations of students and staff.

And although her nature is to never seek the spotlight, she is leaving UWC with a bang: a local radio station, Good Hope FM, has acknowledged her impact on the community and contribution to Science as she was nominated as a finalist in their Women Warrior Awards. This honour came for her role as a lecturer and laboratory education specialist. Also, for her part-time role as a facilitator at a non-profit company that helps build science laboratories for schools in communities with limited access to such facilities.   

Dawn’s professional story begins in 1984, when she graduated with a BSc and stepped immediately into the role of senior laboratory assistant. At the time, support staff were confined to narrow designations, their contributions undervalued and their career paths limited. But she was never content to accept restrictive systems. By the late 1980s, she was part of a pioneering forum that challenged the status quo, establishing new job titles — Officer, Senior Scientific Officer, or Chief Scientific Officer — complete with teaching and research responsibilities. These structures, born of determination and collaboration, remain in place today. They are a testament to her vision: that support staff should not be sidelined, but empowered as integral contributors to the academic mission.  

Dawn with one of the microscopes sourced when the University was first established in the 60s. Image: Harriet Box

This insistence on fairness and opportunity became a hallmark of her career. In the mid-1990s, when practical instruction faltered, Dawn approached the Head of Department directly, requesting to take charge of practical sessions. What followed was a transformation of teaching materials and methods, infused with her personal stamp of clarity and care. Students flourished under her guidance, and her excellence was formally recognised with a distinguished scientific officer award. Yet, true to her nature, she never sought the spotlight. Her satisfaction lay in seeing others thrive.  

“We built structures that remain in place today — reiterating that support staff also deserve a career path.”

The late 1990s brought restructuring and the looming threat of retrenchments. Where others saw risk, she saw opportunity. She expanded her portfolio to include coordinating tutorial and work-study programmes, ensuring that support staff remained indispensable. These programmes became lifelines for students, offering financial support and development opportunities. Dawn’s compassion was evident in her selection of tutors: she often chose those overlooked by colleagues, trusting her instincts and giving chances to students who later excelled. In doing so, she not only safeguarded jobs but also nurtured human potential.  

Her career unfolded against the backdrop of South Africa’s turbulent history. As a student in the 1980s, she endured riots, protests, and the indignity of being hosed down and sent home. She witnessed the merger of Botany and Zoology into the Department of Biodiversity and Conservation Biology, and the near merger of UWC with Peninsula Technikon. Through it all, she remained steadfast, adapting to change while preserving the values of equity and inclusion.  

Today, as she reflects on her journey, the challenges remain pressing. The tutorial programme struggles under budget constraints, serving over 700 students with funding designed for far fewer. Tutors, who depend on this income, face reduced payments. 

“I never sought the spotlight. My satisfaction was always in seeing others thrive.”

Equipment tells its own story: microscopes dating back to 1956 still line the teaching labs, relics of a bygone era. Dawn has been candid about these needs, calling for a million-rand sound system replacement and new microscopes to support undergraduate learning. Her suggestions are not complaints; they are calls to action, reminders of the need to invest in educational tools if they are to remain relevant and effective.  True to her nature, she noted, “If I won the lottery, the first thing I’d buy would be microscopes and a sound system for our labs (and by this she still means UWC).”

What defines her is not what she lacked, but what she gave. Her decision not to pursue a PhD was shaped by the demands of single parenthood and the responsibility of raising two boys and a girl. 

“I chose family over a PhD and academic ambition and I have no regrets. My legacy lies in the students I mentored.” Titles never fazed her, but her reward lay in the structures she built, the students she mentored, and the systems she strengthened.

“I am pleased that I can look back and see how we built structures that remain in place today — reiterating that support staff also deserve a career path.”

Performing lab work as a teacher trainer in her spare time. Image: Supplied

Looking ahead, Dawn’s retirement is not an ending but a continuation. She plans to remain involved in the activities of the non-profit company.  “ I am proud to be part of the programme and it fits in with my commitment to accessibility: bringing equipment, knowledge and opportunity to communities that need them most.”

When asked about this philosophy she lives by, she said, “My satisfaction was always in seeing others thrive; it is what truly makes me happy.

“Even in retirement, I will continue giving back — where they are most needed,” she said.

Her story is one of loyalty and humility, but also of profound impact. She has demonstrated that structures matter — that when systems are designed with fairness and foresight, they are more resilient. She has reminded us that compassion is not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength, and that legacy is not measured in accolades, but in the lives uplifted and the futures secured.  

The university community pauses to honour her. In a world that often celebrates the loudest voices, she stands out for her quiet strength. It is a moment to acknowledge a job well done, to celebrate a career that has left the University stronger, fairer and more resilient. 

Her influence is everywhere: in the career paths of support staff, in the confidence of tutors, in the resilience of students who found their footing because she believed in them.

As the University steps into a new year, it does so carrying the gift of her service — a reminder that quiet dedication can shape generations.