People with Purpose: Aliesha Embleton
On a Saturday night in Canberra the rink vibrates with that particular kind of joy only sport can conjure. Sticks tap the ice, a drumline finds its groove, families huddle over hot chips and a shared sense of belonging. In the stands, a woman follows the warm-up like a coach studying small habits. Later she tells me,
“The ice rink feels like home because I grew up figure skating during my youth and was at the rink morning and night each day.”
Her name is Aliesha Embleton, founder of Sapling Minds and a child development specialist whose life’s work is deceptively simple. She helps children and families build mental wellbeing skills long before life gets loud.
“I’m someone who’s loyal, trustworthy, and kindhearted or at least that’s what my friends would say,” she laughs. “Family means a lot to me, both the family I was born into and the family I’ve built along the way. Family supporting each other is a core value I hold close to my heart.”
She is a proud step-mum of teenage boys, a loving wife, and fur-mum to Ollie, the cheeky Bernedoodle who keeps the household honest. It is not a brand story so much as a compass. Every path we talk about points back to connection, contribution and practical care.
A personal north star
If you want to understand what moves her, start with what she cares about.
“I care extremely deeply about making the world a better place. What can I do to help others. How can I be of service. How can I grow in myself so that I can bring something more to the world. How can I help others have what I may have not had, for example helping kids learn core skills earlier than when I learnt them.”
She is not speaking in slogans.
She is speaking in verbs.
Help. Grow. Bring. Teach.
Her love of ice hockey fits that ethos perfectly.
“I care deeply about ice hockey and supporting the growth of the sport within Australia,” she says.
She is a Canberra Brave tragic in the best sense, the sort of person who never misses a game and knows that what happens on a rink can teach us plenty about how we show up at home, at school and at work.
Practice beats panic. Team beats solo. Repair beats blame.
Outside the rink you will find her walking the dog, on a yoga mat, in meditation, soaking in a long bath with a film and a small glass of gin, scrapbooking, dancing, and happily lost in live music.
“Being on the dancefloor or in the mosh pit for a live music gig,” she grins, “watching ice hockey, walking in nature, reading a book with a nice cup of cacao or tea.”
She loves to travel slowly.
“I tend to take my time when I travel, staying for a few weeks so I can properly soak up the local way of life,” with a particular pull toward history and ancient ruins.
The energetic and the reflective live side by side. “Whether it’s a relaxed evening or planning the next big trip, I try to savour life’s little moments and stay grounded in what matters most, connection, family, and finding joy in the everyday.”
The milestones that mattered
Two moments shine as turning points.
“The first is publishing my book and seeing it be so successful. I was really proud of this experience because it was something I had put my heart into and was so passionate about. This work in raising awareness of and making a change in how kids develop core mental wellbeing skills is something that I feel is my true calling and purpose for being on this earth.”
Writing was not a grind.
“It just flowed out of me and was such an enjoyable experience. I loved being able to get up and write every day. There wasn’t a day that I ever sat down to write because I had to. It was always because I deeply wanted to and was excited to keep expanding what I was bringing to the world,” she says, then adds with a grin, “the editing part was less fun.”
The second milestone was a quieter triumph.
“Graduating my uni degree. My uni journey was longer than normal as I needed to reduce studies and take time off to help family. So to be able to get back and finish the degree was a wonderful feeling. I still remember wearing my gown and being handed that bit of paper. The document seemed so small and insignificant compared with the journey it had been and the pride I felt.”
She had started early, completing a university subject in Year 12 through Start QUT, funnily enough in education. Life, as it often does, eventually circled her back to the very place her work now concentrates: learning.
The quiet power of subtle change
If there is a single message she wishes more people understood, it is this: transformation is often quiet.
“The impact of my work isn’t always visible and often, that’s the point,” she explains.
“Sapling Minds is focused on supporting mental health in children and families, not through crisis response, but by building resilience, self-awareness, and emotional tools before they’re urgently needed.”
What does that look like in real life? Sometimes it is a parent who leaves a conversation feeling steadier and more confident about the next hard moment. Sometimes it is a child who finds a word for what is happening on the inside, or practises one small strategy that turns a morning around.
“Other times, it’s the child who picks up life-changing skills they didn’t know they were missing, because things already felt fine or good enough,” she says. “But over time, those subtle shifts make a profound difference in how they manage challenges, navigate relationships, and understand themselves.”
She loves the seed metaphor for a reason.
“My work is about planting seeds early, so children and families can thrive in ways they may not even realise until much later. Just because the transformation isn’t loud or dramatic doesn’t make it any less powerful.” Then she goes one step further. “In fact, the subtle transformation that occurs through deeply developing these core skills, resilience, authenticity and an entrepreneurial spirit, is far more powerful because it is not visible or obvious. Those subtle transformations that some of us are fortunate to experience in life are some of the most profound, and when we look back at the person we were before that learning journey we can hardly recognise them.”
A toolkit you can use tomorrow
Ask her for practical help and she will not hand you a theory. She will offer tiny, repeatable moves that add up.
Name the feeling, not the child. Saying “you are feeling frustrated” validates emotion without casting identity. It teaches language, not shame.
Keep rituals small and steady. The same three steps before school. A two-minute transition timer. A shared sentence to start homework. Routines carry families when energy runs low.
Repair out loud. We all get it wrong. Coming back to apologise and try again is the stuff strong relationships are built on. You are modelling exactly what you want children to do.
Teach pattern spotting. Two questions she loves for kids: “What helped last time?” and “What is one gentle next step?” Small steps build agency.
Make the invisible visible. In classrooms, stick a feelings word-bank where eyes land. Teach a two-breath reset and use a simple hand cue to prompt it. Praise the process as much as the outcome.
Underneath these strategies is a more generous philosophy about growth.
“Transformation can take place at any time in our life, and often throughout the entire journey of our lives. It is never too late, and you don’t have to do everything all at once.”
The line she returns to, again and again, is the line many of us needed to hear earlier.
“You are enough just as you are right in that moment. We are already more than who we were before, and we will be even more tomorrow than who we are today, but for today, just know that you are enough just as you are.”
And if you feel a tug toward a path that scares you a little?
“If you know your life calling, take the leap and follow that pull, even if it seems scary.”
What the rink teaches
It is hard not to notice how often the ice shows up in our conversation. It is a place of memory and a very practical teacher. On the rink, you practise skills in calm conditions so they are there when the stakes rise. You learn to stop and start, to balance and turn, to trust your edges. You learn to recover from a stumble, which is its own kind of mastery.
“The ice rink feels like home,” she has said, and you can tell it still is.
The sport itself is a community classroom. She does not simply watch the Canberra Brave for entertainment. She watches because team sport at its best is a masterclass in culture. Shared purpose. Clear roles. Repair after mistakes. Celebration after effort. All of it translates to families and classrooms.
Joy as a method
Spend time with her and you will notice that joy is not a garnish, it is an ingredient.
It is there in the live music nights. In the slow travel that privileges markets and side streets over checklists. In the daily resets that make room for rest, a walk with Ollie, a book and a warm cup of cacao or tea. Joy is not the opposite of seriousness. It is what makes seriousness sustainable.
It also explains why her work resonates with parents and educators who already have full plates. She is not asking anyone to become a different person by Thursday. She is asking us to try one small thing, then another, and to notice what happens when we repair quickly and praise the process.
Why this story matters now
Canberra is full of people who get up every day and do the quiet work that keeps hearts, households and classrooms intact. We tell these People with Purpose stories because the city is better when we notice them.
In Aliesha’s case, the purpose is easy to name but powerful to witness. She is helping children and adults build inner skills before the storm, so when hard days come they can respond with steadiness rather than fear.
The final words are hers, because they are the ones many of us need on the fridge, in the staffroom and taped to the back of our phone.
“You are enough just as you are.”
While the Brave season has come to a thrilling end, if you are at the rink next year, look for the woman who watches warm-ups like a lesson plan, cheering for a community she loves. She will be the one who knows that practice beats panic, team beats solo, and that planting seeds early is how you grow a life.
