Kate Taylor (left) and Sam Unger, first female president of the GC, have lived on opposite sides of the world for 25 of the 30 years since they left Queen’s. Despite the distance, they have common goals, both are equally set on, (some may even say stubborn about), the promotion of women, the taking on of challenges, the pursuit of silliness, and most vehemently of all, the unwavering love and support they have for one another.

Sam

We met in Queen’s, I was two weeks late as I wasn’t accepted in the first intake. Admittedly, I have a bad memory for details, I’m more about general feelings but Kate will give you some obscure fact about me that I will not even remember, she’s like my own personal historian. One of the things that attracted us to one another, and why we have such a strong friendship is, we both loved being at Queen’s, and both of us were involved in a ridiculous number of College committees.

My first impressions still stand true, she is quirky, self-confident, comfortable in her own skin, and has an amazing sense of fun. Her inner courage, and strength has seen her through many challenges, I’m not even sure she realises it. She is unapologetically Kate. That’s one of the things I just love about her. Kate will speak her mind, cut through the crap, just come out and make a statement, and it often makes me laugh. It can give you pause, but it comes from an incredibly good place and what she says holds a lot of weight. She does it because she cares about you or is passionate about something. She was a huge supporter when I wanted to be GC president. She can push people along, and was encouraging in her way, ‘Yes, of course, why not, Sam?’

Queen’s provided a safe harbour where life ran the full gamut of serious pursuits such as study, exams and learning, through to ridiculous College games and pranks. I have strong memories of Kate and I just giggling our way through it all. From watching the rowing with watermelons on our heads, to going down to breakfast and seeing how high eggs could be thrown, to running around Melbourne on the O-Week committee together, trying to do a human pyramid on the front lawn. One pervading memory that always makes me think of Kate is lying on the floor between our rooms chatting about God knows what. For me, it’s the quieter moments that really solidified our friendship.
Our mutual love of travel and having both lived overseas also binds us. One of the golden threads of our relationship is we can pick up from where we left off. I’ve lived in Dublin, Bangkok, and now England for a very long time, Kate has had two stints in the UK and has also spent time in Canada, but no matter where we live in the world, if I had a problem and needed her honest advice, Kate would give it to me, in a heartbeat. She’s an incredibly intuitive and kind person, I can absolutely lean on her, open-up to her. Kate has an ability to cut through noise and uncertainty, it’s the directness which makes her brilliant at challenging preconceptions.

One of the many things that binds both of us is our love of challenges. To some they may be ridiculous or perhaps be a sign of our stubbornness. We have both separately completed 100 km continuous hikes, then a couple of years ago, I did the Skyscraper Challenge for a charity. We had to run up a 40-floor building in London and then abseil down. The reason I chose the challenge was not simply for the adrenalin, but because the charity supports families who have suffered miscarriages and stillbirths. Kate went through her own difficult journey and was my inspiration for doing that challenge.

When Kate is struggling you know there must be something really wrong because she is usually so strong and stoic. One year she had three pregnancies but couldn’t keep the baby. It was heart-breaking to see her go through that physical, mental, and emotional pain. I remember when she finally told me about these struggles, her raw emotion has never left me. Thankfully, after a lot of heart ache, they have an amazing daughter, Clementine. She clearly wanted a child and put her body through so much. It was difficult to see she couldn’t control something because Kate is so amazing at whatever she does.

With Kate, you ask direct questions, sometimes more quietly, separately and let her decide what she wants to tell you, in her own time. Kate will say yes or no, depending. I love that about her, she will tell you what she needs. There are times I have wanted to ask more questions, but she will only open up when she’s ready. Many times, I have seen the stress on her face from her huge job as the executive director of research strategy at the University of Melbourne.

Over the years, we have often had conversations around women in business or sport and both of us are passionate about the fact that sadly, despite it being 2025, equality is not a given. I don’t always put myself forward, I have a lot of self-doubt, that’s my natural state, something I will have to work at all my life. With someone like Kate, I can hear her when I’m doubting myself or going backwards and forwards on a decision, I think, ‘What would she tell me to do?’. It’s such a help having someone like Kate who I can speak to, or just channel in the back of my mind.

Every year Kate has a gentlemen’s lunch, she’s the only female with about 12 men from our year at Queen’s. This is so Kate, it says something about her personality. It makes me giggle. If I was in Melbourne I’d love to try and wriggle my way into this lunch. That’s what I love about her. Of course, Kate has a gentlemen’s lunch.

She’s very open but at the same time she can hold a lot of things to her chest. I wish she could be kinder to herself, and perhaps do less. In many respects I think she is a renaissance woman because she has a very scientific mindset and is also highly creative. She has a much broader range of talents than I do. Kate will hold up a mirror to her family and friends, she’s great at pushing others but sometimes I think, You don’t realise how brilliant you are.

Kate refers to us as being ‘middle-aged’ just to annoy me, so in turn I stubbornly say we are 34 plus16, rather than 50, to annoy her. But at the heart of it, I refuse to accept middle age as there are still too many adventures to go on with her.
With Kate, it’s less about big events, of which there have been many, it’s more about the moments in between, the quieter moments. I can’t believe 30 years has gone by.

Kate

With Sam, there was an immediate connection, she was friendly and open, had a kind demeanour, and very early on I realised had a good sense of humour. She was a doer, a participator, not a stand back person.

I’m a state school kid, grew up in Ballarat and went to Mount Clear Technical High School, and Sam went to ‘Riiiii-ton’ (Ruyton Girls’ School). Quite a few people at College were from ‘posho’ private schools so that was really interesting for me. There were lots of jokes with the eastern suburbs’ kids, ribbing each other.

I left after third year and Sam stayed on and became the first female president, which I am very proud about. It was a full-on proposition for her to do honours and take on the load of president. Sam winning that role is testament to how well liked she is. She’s good at connective tissue, is a good person with a good heart. We all knew she would do a great job because she’s incredibly competent.

I was the first female head of the Cavalry and that was quite funny because my brother (Matt Taylor, Wyvern 1991) had been the head too. We played it in a comical way. Looking back, I can’t believe it took that long to have a female president. In the ‘90s, I don’t think we were as strident as I would be about it now.

In College, there was lots of hanging out, wasting time in a fun way, in each other’s rooms, chatting until all hours. That’s where you form your lifelong friendships when you are doing things like that then running off to uni. We did different courses, Sam arts and I did science, so we weren’t in the same subjects. The formative years of friendship at Queen’s, the time you have at College is such an amazing experience, the really close friends you make there, it’s not hard to keep them up, even if you live overseas or hardly see each other, you just pick up where you left off.

Last year for my 50th we caught up in London. Sam doesn’t like to say our age, nor admit we are middle-aged, she calls it 34 plus 16. She’s still in denial, so I deliberately like to say we are middle-aged, just to frustrate her. The year before, 2023, I was in Paris and she came over for 24 hours. It was awesome, so special, we walked and walked, and talked and talked – it was like we were still at College. Solving the problems of the world and laughing ourselves silly. The things we talk about and the dramas we have going on in our lives have changed across that life course, but our close link is still there.

When Sam comes home at Christmas time we always have a girls’ dinner with a bunch of other Wyverns and friends. Amusingly, I also have an annual gentlemen’s lunch with Wyverns. It is funny. I am the only girl. It’s not like I said there can be no other girls, it’s just the way it has transpired. Many of the men are good friends with Sam. It’s a close year.

I can see Sam has a lack of self-belief, I think it’s a common thing for women. To the outside world she looks incredibly competent but people would probably also say the same thing about me. I definitely have confidence issues. We all have self-doubt ,or we would be narcissistic, but just look at her career, a director at Deloitte, it’s pretty stellar. She’s a freak overachiever. I also think there’s something about the age we are, you do start to think, ‘What am I doing?’ I think in the ‘90s our generation was sold that there was equal opportunity and that’s just bullshit. That’s 30 years ago and the patriarchy is still everywhere, mate. That can be a bit tiring.

There’s lots of times we have supported each other with life’s twists and turns. My journey to parenthood was long and hard and I’m going to cry just saying it, reflecting on things. Having someone like Sam I can reach out to, chat to, just be with, and who has no particular agenda, is the best. You grow up and are told you can do anything; but when it is to do with family, relationships and children you can’t control it, even though you really want to. She had great empathy and support for me. I did have a baby, one child, and knowing that at the same time, she’s learning to accept that’s not going to be her journey, it’s really hard, it’s so unfair. Seeing her have her heart broken various times, it’s been hard to watch because she is such a wonderful, loving person.

After College, her parents divorced and there were stages when it was very difficult. Family plays a central part in Sam’s life, especially her six nieces and nephews. Her parents are both now happily re-partnered, with the overall family unit being a strong and loving one. She copes with challenges by doing physical activity, and makes light of some of the things with funny stories about stuff that is actually serious. We often use black humour.

We are both prepared to go further than most to get a laugh. When former police commissioner Christine Nixon was head of the Bushfire Reconstruction and Recovery Authority, I arranged for her (via my partner Greg) to write a letter to Sam’s mum congratulating her on a milestone birthday. Christine was a heroine of Sam’s mum, and her wife. When it arrived in the post we swore we could hear her screams of delight from the other side of Melbourne. The fact that for some time she had no idea who had organised it was particularly delicious.
From a selfish perspective, it would be great if she moved back to Australia. I think she could be really happy here, professionally and personally. Her professional skills are vast, and readily transferable to any number of sectors. I’m actually thinking about starting a petition, I think I could garner a lot of signatures (and not just from her family).

This is all about sharing the life journey, it’s part of being human. You can bring it all back to Queen’s, to people you wouldn’t have met otherwise. I thank Queen’s for throwing her into my orbit. Sam is an amazing human and I love her. She’s hilarious, a really kind person, a good listener, who accepts me for my crazy self, for who I am.

Kate (left) and Sam at Kate’s 21st