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The wonderful thing about those of us who enjoy democracy, we are currently told, is that we enjoy the fruits of an orderly and peaceful transfer of power between governing regimes.
They are identified by their scars: educational under-achievement; relatively higher unemployment; higher rates of arrest, conviction, and imprisonment; and, poor health. There are measurable disparities between the characteristics of the New Zealand that they endure compared to that enjoyed by the majority of their fellow citizens.
We need ‘upside down’ thinking. If we are going to be hit by unemployment and ‘down time’ instead of allowing the devil to make work for idle hands lets take advantage of the situation and steer the Nga Mokai population into a full on period of learning and restorative action. Instead of having people on the dole help them get into educational courses and skills training programmes: parenting programmes to build whanau ora; Te Reo Maori programmes to acculturate and give a sense of locus; digital design courses and digital broadcasting programmes to build new capabilities in the knowledge economy. Let us move away from the pathological perspective and focus instead on fostering the potential of Nga Mokai. This does not ignore the harsh and generally complex realities surrounding the members of the tribe of Nga Mokai, but ‘assumes the best’ and resonates with the late Michael White’s idea of ‘re-authoring lives’ – forward. |
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The last five years of work with Nga Mokai have provided a number of insights that can help the helping agencies be effective with these whanau: Whakaeke ki te Marae – get back to the Marae. In the rural districts this might mean marae based programmes, growing kai for healthy eating, kohanga reo and child care skills development, Te Reo Maori and Maori language digital broadcast projects using the internet to connect with tribal members living elsewhere, Maori performing arts, micro enterprises in production of art works, indigenous tourism. In the cities the Marae may well be ‘urban marae’ or even makeshift ‘marae style’ arrangements in a in a community hall. Many of the same things undertaken in the rural districts could be undertaken as well as urban skills related programmes, drivers licences, building and trades related work, labour hire pools to respond to short term employment opportunities, breakfast clubs to ensure the tamariki and rangatahi get a good kai before school, after school and holiday programmes and so forth.
So, the Kiwis are the World Champion Rugby League team. What a buzz for every underdog. My lead up to the final game was great fun. I’d gone with Kevin Tamati to the All Golds vs NZ Maori match in New Plymouth. The Mad Butcher was the team manager for the All Golds. He said to me “Denny, I never thought I’d get over what was done to Bluey, but maaate, this Kearney has got something special – he’s very humble Denny, very respectful, and he asks people for their views. There’s something special here. I think this team can do it in the World Cup”.
Cordtz had forgone a trip to Australia for the World Cup to be with his old Unicorns team mates for this grassroots celebration. We had an awards ceremony and I talked about the history of HB Rugby League, of James Rukutai from Tangoio who is still celebrated in the Auckland Rugby League competition today. I told the tale of the Charity Cup, the oldest rugby league trophy in the Southern Hemisphere and perhaps the most unique football trophy in the world, as it has been played for by all three codes (see blog July 2005 ‘The things that bind us’ for the full story).
The following day, the Saturday of the World Cup, we buried Reti Luke, compared to me a young fulla. He is the seventh of a family of nine siblings who have died in recent years, all I think before their 50’s. I don’t understand it. Reti was a lean tall second rower for the Taradale Eagles and a tough and uncompromising tackler. He had a swerve in which he arced his body like a C, break the line, and then pop a beautiful short pass to one of the big forwards. He helped the Eagles stay undefeated as Hawke’s Bay Champions for four successive seasons. He seemed to be fit and trim but cancer cut him down in much the same way as it has taken out the majority of his brothers and sisters. After leaving the marae at Petane I waited with Taape at Waiohiki and saluted him with a haka as the van bearing his body paused at the marae before heading off to the cemetery at Park Island. It seemed appropriate to go out to the centennial celebrations at Omahu and watch the former HB Unicorns play former Omahu Huia team members. Goddam, these Unicorns guys were all in their late 40’s and early 50’s but you would never know it. Omahu Huia have always been known as a tough, uncompromising and ‘physical’ team. “Physical” is a code for the fact that they like to bash you. Nothing has changed. It was brutal from the kick off. Old man Neil O’Dowd was in a scrap within minutes, and Peter Cordtz, who was always the pretty boy of the Unicorns, copped a beauty in the hooter, which probably required a stitch or two and a bit of straightening when he got back to Auckland. It didn’t stop him cutting up the Omhau backline and popping beautiful passes out to Mike Doreen and others as these former Unicorns demonstrated that not only do they still have it but that fast ball and quick legs beat bash everytime. It says something about our code that the General Manager can still hack it on the field and that the event arranged by this little club, formed around a small Maori community, was significant enough to attract such top blokes. Straight after the game I had to drive to Auckland with Boy for a Black Power hui there. We listened to the first half of the game on the misty frequencies of sports radio – it reminded me of listening to the All Blacks in South Africa when I was a kid – using our imaginations to build on the commentary. Damn those announcers can be funny – “ There’s young Luke – he looks like the last of the Mohicans - he’s had his hair cut especially for the game – I hope he didn’t pay much” Then it was into the Auckland clubrooms for the second half, a band pumping in the background and three hundred or so of the bros fixed on the TV, cheering as the Kiwis started to get the upper hand, gripped with the possibility of the impossible dream, that this time we might do it. And then, as the spectre of the impossible faded and reality dawned, ‘Whiti Te Ra !”, it was so. We were World Champions. We. Us. Every leaguester, every follower of our minority game, often badmouthed and ridiculed by the mainstream sports fan, ‘WE’ had done it, shared victory, rooted in belief and commitment. Ross France, my lawyer mate in Auckland told me a story that summed it all up. There is a bloke living down the road from him who needs a wheelchair for mobility. On the Sunday morning after the game this bloke was dressed in his Kiwis jersey. He spent most of the morning sitting at the traffic lights just grinning and giving the thumbs up to each and every car that passed him by. |
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