What I really wanted to say about music criticism in Aotearoa…

A guest post by Anna Coddington

(Editor/Flip That Script’s note)- “As the New Zealand Music Awards of 2016 was running, a group of women in the industry were talking.  Facebook chat. We’re professionals.  We have babies. We were talking, because the music industry can be an uncomfortable place for women. 

The industry is simply over run by men. It’s hard to get a foot in the door, let alone a word in. It doesn’t matter whether you are an instrumentalist, a producer, a lighting-rigger, a manager, or a singer – you’re outnumbered. We’d realised that only one woman had ever won ‘Best Video’  since the awards inception, and not a single woman had been nominated since 2011 for that award.

It really is a boys club. So we were sending power vibes to Aaradhna, we hoped she would take the night out. And she did. Very calmly and succinctly, she explained that she would not accept her second award of the night for Best Urban/Hip-hop artist, as she was a singer – not a rapper (giving it to Onehunga based rappers SWIDT instead). And more importantly, she showed the award for what it was, the ‘brown musician’ award. Boom. Institutionalised racism called OUT.

So once again, the internet has blown up  – because women have stuff to say. AND sometimes, these women have been brown. I know, its shocking right. Who knew women were even allowed to express their opinions at all?

Another singer who experiences being lumped together with other brown musicians is Anna Coddington. As Aaradhna was laying it down at the awards that night and we were chatting, Anna brought up another pertinent issue, one which compounds the ‘brown-blindness’ – The seeming dearth of female music critics in New Zealand. We talked at length.

Then Anna wrote this. He mihi nui ki a koe e hoa – you speak for many of us.”

‘Recently, I was part of a panel for ‘LATE at the Museum: ‘The Music Machine’, a curated evening of discussion, performance and exhibitions at the Auckland Museum. Chaired by the lovely and knowledgeable Charlotte Ryan, the other panelists were musicians Chip Matthews and James Milne, and music manager Scott MacLachlan. We were charged with discussing, basically, whether musos give a shit about what critics think.

It seemed a potentially interesting discussion so, despite my 5-month-old baby induced sleep deprivation and inability to string a sentence together at the best of times, I signed up.

It was well received, “blew up my twitter for a minnit” and we covered a lot of ground in the time available.

What’s the role of a critic these days? Do musicians care what they think? Do listeners? Are they still relevant? etc. But as the hour started winding down I got a sinking feeling as I realized the issue that I thought was the most glaring, relevant and important was not going to be raised – unless I raised it.

In the last ten or so minutes I was trying to find a way to slip it in without straight up yelling over top of my fellow panelists, but no one else seemed to be going anywhere near it. “What is it?” You say. “WHAT?!”

Do a roll call of the first names of music critics in NZ, those you can think of who are writing today. The ones that spring to mind. The “main” ones for lack of a better term. I got:

Simon, Graham, Russell, Grant, Gary, Henry, Nick, Marty, Michael…

My list was short because it’s a small country and an even smaller industry, and like I said, I’m eternally tired slash lazy. Even still – the fact that they are all male and possibly (probably) all white was striking to me. Google the term “music critic” and you’ll see 15 images of white males, then a brown male, then more white males.

White males. They are great. I have two children with one. My Dad’s one. But to note that they dominate yet another element of our industry/society/life – is it surprising? No. Is it noteworthy? Well, it certainly is to a brown female. That’s me. And many of my friends.

I realize now, it was on me to bring it up that night but I missed my chance and immediately regretted it, and it’s been eating at me ever since. Happily though, I feel like Aaradhna and her delightful refusal of the “brown person” Tui at the music awards has opened a window for this kind of sentiment to be aired….

So why didn’t I say it on the night? Other than the fact that the opportunity just didn’t present itself between one hour and five people’s opinions’- I just couldn’t see a way to come out with it and not seem like a brown female with an axe to grind. It is intimidating to be the minority in the room and speak out on a minority issue – to be “that feminist” or that brown person “claiming racism”.

The opinions of white males are as valid as anyone else’s sure, but we all listen to music. Surely the lens through which it’s analysed in the media could be a little broader.

As Aaradhna pointed out, there’s a feeling that brown musicians get lumped in together. And brown female musicians – even more so. I’ve spent my pretty low-key career being compared to my famous brown female mates Anika Moa and Bic Runga. And I do get it – there are musical similarities and our personal relationships probably encourage it a bit, plus they are great and that’s fine. But I’ve not been compared in the same way to my famous friends who are not brown or female, even where I think there are some musical similarities. I haven’t really witnessed any of NZ’s male solo artists suffer the same fate. For example Liam Finn, Connan Mockasin and Lawrence Arabia aren’t exactly occupying different musical continents but they are (rightly) celebrated as individuals even with their ongoing collaborations.

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Actors, not musicians, but you get the idea.

So is it really that us brown women fail to differentiate ourselves while the white men succeed? Or is it that the people publicly assessing these things are better at discerning between one group than they are the other? It’s not for me to answer those questions and they are only examples of course, but in an alternate universe where all the “main” music reviewers were female and brown (you can’t even imagine it, admit it!) I reckon things would pan out pretty differently.

pjimage2Above: The Koi Boys, wrongly identified as Sol3 Mio at the awards, and the real deal, right.

We recently had a prominent female music writer who was well-respected and even (gasp) well liked by musicians. She was criticized for not being brutal enough and giving too many positive reviews. I understand that if someone is only giving out A+s all the time, that mark loses its value a bit, but that wasn’t the case. It felt a bit like saying she needed to be more man-like in her criticisms. (If she had, no doubt she would’ve been considered a bitch but that’s another essay…)

I also heard of a woman who tried to get in as a music writer for a well-known magazine but the male critic-in-residence had such a fit, the suggestion was shut down.

The problem of a lack of women’s voices being heard is of course not unique to music criticism, or to the music industry.

The tendency for everyone to gravitate to a male voice over a female voice as the voice of reason and authority is everywhere. This happens at a subconscious level where it goes unnoticed aaaallll the time.

A woman who went through broadcasting school told me that one of the first things she learned was to lower her voice in pitch. Why? Why can’t a lady sound like a lady? (And for another essay again, why not a whole slew of interesting linguistic variation in our media being taken seriously?)

For the record, we do have female music critics (listed at the end of this post). They’re just not given the platform that the male ones are. And unfortunately, as Ellen Willis says in this article,

‘Female expertise, when it appears, is repeatedly dismissed as fraudulent….. and becoming a recognized “expert” (a musician, a critic) will not save you from accusations of fakery.’

At the end of the panel discussion the lingering conclusion seemed to be that music critics don’t matter these days. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t, but I think it’s important for music to have that space in the media, as music has been so severely devalued overall, that discussing it in these public forums is helping to hold it aloft as something actually worth paying for (yes everyone- musicians like to get paid for their work).

The Spinoff adding a new music arm to their website is great and I think Henry Oliver is a great choice for editor, but I do hope they introduce a wider range of voices to the chorus of humans opining about music, because- shit do I really need to say why?

Diversity comes in all shapes, sizes, colours, genders, sexual orientations, etc. There’s a big ol’ range of humans making music and an even bigger range of people listening to it so it seems strange to have such a small range listened to for comment on it.

So here I am- a brown female grinding my axe about a thing that it seems most people don’t even notice. Not my usual vibe to jump in at length on this stuff but I’ve seen a lot of mana wāhine lately speaking up on “the issues” and I feel like not saying this in the panel was shirking my responsibility as the brown woman in the room. Because of course I was the only one who felt this way. Of course it was on me to say it. And now I have. Kia ora.’

Āmene to that, and kia ora to you Anna!

If you are interested in changing the tide, and supporting women in the industry, you can do so! Here are some of the female music writers and critics in New Zealand. We all need to know their names and work:

  • Charlotte Ryan – Air NZs ‘The Pitch’
  • Silke Hartung – NZ Musician
  • Lydia Jenkins – formerly NZ Herald
  • Vicki Anderson – The Press
  • Melody Thomas – RNZ music 101
  • Kirsten Johnstone – RNZ, music 101
  • Yadana Saw – RNZ music 101
  • Emma Smith – formerly RNZ & formerly The Listener
  • Leonie Hayden – Spinoff & Mana Magazine
  • Briar Lawry  – RNZ ‘The Wireless’
  • Eliza Beca – bFM
  • Rachel Morton – RDU
  • Amanda Mills – NZ Musician & Audioculture
  • Aleisha Ward – Audio Culture & nzjazz.wordpress.com, NZ Musician
  • Laura Dooney – Dominion Post
  • Sam Vegar – NNZ Musician
  • Kiran Dass  – NZ Listener, NZ Herald, Sunday magazine, Sunday Star-Times, Metro, Landfall, The Wire (UK), RNZ & 95bFM
  • Claire Duncan – Pantograph Punch
  • Anna Loveys -NZ Musician
  • Danielle Street – Undertheradar
  • Ania Glowacz – Radio active & NZ Musician
  • Dee Muir – NZ Musician
  • Jennifer Sheilds – RDU
  • Pip Ormrod – Newstalk ZB
  • Ellen Falconer – RNZ
  • Frances Morton – VICE/ ex Metro
  • Courteney Peters – Gather & Hunt

And I know there will be more of you! Please mention yourselves/others in a comment

Here is another comprehensive list of women from all over the world, who write about music!

Their writing shines a bright light on other women in the industry, and brings a bit more justice into our world.

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How Moana Maniapoto’s APRA speech proves Don Brash wrong

This week was a good one for my young whānau. We spent it at a kura reo (language course), run by and for the various hapū of my partner and children’s marae. We spent the days extending our Te Reo, composing mōteatea and pātere (forms of waiata) and whakataukī (proverbial sayings). As well as collecting pipi, and wrangling many, many children at the local papa rēhia (playground).

The marae was noisy, busy and happy the whole week. There was a real sense of arriving at a destination for these whānau, or at least being back on track. Fulfilling the dreams of many tīpuna who had been punished for speaking their own language, by bringing Te Reo back into the marae. Reclaiming and revitalising a culture and language that were long suppressed, and bringing life to land that was stolen, forcibly removed or sold under duress – is no mean feat. It takes decades.

One evening, after my kids were asleep, and while far too many were not, I took advantage of the wireless connection at the local motor camp. Far enough from all the haututūs, I loaded up the APRA Silver Scrolls live stream on my computer. This night has become an annual event in my living room. I was so happy when I remembered that Moana Maniapoto was being inducted into the New Zealand Music Hall of Fame that night. Rawe!

My mother in law and I sat absolutely mesmerised throughout her heart-felt and thoroughly straight shooting speech.  Less than a minute in I wished I had stayed at the marae to watch this after all. All those kids ruckusing around on their mattresses needed to hear her acceptance speech.

It is an affirmation that being Māori is fantastic and a rousing call to action for everyone. Kids need both those things. And after reading and listening to a lot of media over the past week, I realise almost all New Zealanders do.

After her speech, and in between the other awards, I flicked back and forth between various news sources. I noticed my social media feeds (so news-y) were heaving with Don Brash and separatism – goodie, oh how I had missed him. I read a few articles; academic, personal blogs, Māori TV and the Spinoff about Hobsons Pledge and got the picture. Brash’s racism, ignorance and attitude momentarily indented a little corner of my over inflated bubble – but it didn’t pop it. You’re just not that sharp sorry, Don.

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Moana Maniapoto, Don Brash

All week, I had been floating on a cloud of hope and vision held high by the steadfast fortitude of the many dedicated Māori who include me in their lives, share with and teach me.  People who are committed to their language, their (and our shared) histories, and not the least of all, their children’s futures.

The contrast between Moana’s speech and all the rubbish about ‘one law for all’ and the appropriation of the phrase ‘he iwi tahi tātou’ couldn’t have been more stark that night. Moana has worked tirelessly in her 30 year career to advance opportunities for Māori. She sees politics and her music as inseparable. And thank goodness for that. Still, since the 90s she feels that very little has changed.

When she grew up, her people didn’t hear their own reo on the radio. Recalling this bought her to tears. Because, apparently it didn’t  ‘fit the format’ – to this day there is no quota for music in Te Reo, it still doesn’t fit the format.

Music in sung Te Reo rarely gets played on mainstream radio, even when the likes of Park Jae-Sang’s Korean language ‘Gangnam Style’ single swept the country and globe. So we know it isn’t really about the language.

It’s about the culture, the people and the politics of power and greed. And if we’re being honest, the Pāhekā fear of te Ao Māori. It is about the largely unchallenged and accepted dominance of Pākehā culture in this country. Whiteness is the format, and this is what Brash really means when he says we can all be one.

Now, I’m sorry to go back to Brash for a bit. But only so we can see the connect, or more, the disconnect between his thinking and Moana’s.

He is Pāhekā, and I am Pāhekā, and as such I have a responsibility to say that I utterly disagree. To stress that he is completely misguided. To show he does not understand Te Tiriti o Waitangi, that he does not get mana motuhake, and that his followers do real damage every time they wave the separatist flag (they are the ones raising it, not Māori) and cry foul at supposed special race based treatment. Does he not understand cultural structures, and that New Zealand is entirely guided by British, Western and Pāhekā frameworks?!

For years there was scant representation of things Māori at the APRA awards – (this was the structural real race based privilege, Don) until Moana and some friends asked Mike Chunn if APRA would create a Maioha award for Te Reo Māori music content. It has been in existence since 2003.  Now, I’m sure Brash can’t stand this, race based treatment! How dare they!

It is glaringly obvious that Brash denies history and doesn’t understand equality verse equity. So perhaps this image will help. Because at the top of the list of what the Hobson’s Pledgers believe is:

  • All New Zealanders should be equal before the law, irrespective of when they or their ancestors arrived in New Zealand.

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When one group (English/Pāhekā) not only take the vast majority of resources from another group (Māori) but actively strip a culture of its centrifugal force, its language, the playing field is completely unfair. Thus, the Maioha award is necessary all these decades after colonisation began. It is needed because Te Reo music does not get fair play. And because Te Reo is not understood by most New Zulanders. If these songs were in the mix with the other entries, they would have much less of a chance. And we would all hear less waiata Māori.

When one culture has been oppressed for over 150 years by another, the descendants of the oppressors are obligated to right the wrongs, and this is APRAs contribution. This is equity in action.

Now, on the note of most Pāhekā not bothering to learn Te Reo, ka aroha, you missed a lot during the Silver Scrolls.

The Māori world is one of eloquent speakers. What can be expressed in Te Reo is not necessarily translatable into English. Connections are made, acknowledgements are given and the love is spread at the start of speeches in Te Reo. Rarely is all this said again in English.

Rob Ruha’s acceptance speech for his second Maioha award was no exception. He spent at least the first 2/3 of talking about others, and made special note of Moana.  During his tribute, he said:

“E tika ana te whakahonore i a koe i tēnei pō, i te whakahōnoretanga i a koe, e ta, kua wini katoa mātou”.  “It is right that you are honored tonight, and in your honouring, my friend, we all win.” I urge you to watch his whole speech, click on the Te Reo above.

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Beautiful eh. And so true.

After their parents and grandparents were stripped of their rights to a Māori identity in the eyes of the law,  her peers struggled to see themselves reflected in the world around them, to see that their lives mattered. “music and the arts are not just a window to the world, but a mirror to our own”. She uplifts all Māori – and Te Reo really was the winner on the night. She has done her generation proud and has changed the course for those who follow her.

I support a Māori music commission in order to see Te Reo really hit the airwaves and stages with full force. So that more bands like Alien Weaponry have a fair shot at success. It is about putting things right, celebrating Māori, Te Reo, and ourselves in this country. So go take that race based idea Don, put it in your pipe and smoke it.

Learning happens in relationships. How Hekia’s new plans are an attack on inter-personal connections.

Three days a week I head to work at several early childhood centers. I love my job. I take my toddler with me on two of these days. For many parents the work and childcare balance is a weekly struggle. A juggle to meet everyone’s needs. Taking my youngest to work with me creates peace in our lives and provides stability for our children.

I have an older kid too. She’s not under my wing as much as I’d like, but that is what happens as kids get older. She is however, under the protective watch and guidance of trusted adults each day. They are all at once her teachers, our friends, our partners in politics and also part of a wider group of people who have collective philosophies and aspirations for our children. This school is small, and it  meets the needs of its children as best as it possibly can. It is a real community.

These places, my work and our school, are absolute community hubs. Every other week someone new arrives, a new whānau is taken into the fold. They are eagerly welcomed with open arms. They are accepted and absorbed….whether they see it coming or not! Education centres are crucial meeting places. They bring people together, at a time when new little lives are coming into fruition. At their best, places of education should be equalizers, and they should be there for everyone. No matter what your needs are. And for the most part, schools are these things.

I say all this, because there have been two pieces of news in two days this week that have worried me greatly. As a teacher with a background in special education, with a child who requires extra learning support, I feel under-valued as a teacher, fearful for my child’s future educational possibilities and fiercely protective of her rights as a citizen and learner in this world. And I feel worried for everyone actually, for our communities who strive each day for the betterment of children.

Hekia Parata,you have stung twice. And it really hurts.

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First you say that youth aged 18-21 years will get less funding, which will be reallocated to pre-schoolers. My first thought straight off the bat is that I just don’t believe you. I doubt this will happen. Well, I don’t doubt you’ll authorise funding to be taken away from those who need it, but I can’t see it going anywhere else productive. Here are the reason this makes me furious:

  1. Kids aged 18-21 in the education system are at a critical turning point in their lives – they are being supported so they can live as independently as possible. To live lives that are fulfilling. You know, the kind of stuff we all want and expect at the end of our schooling. These young people can be painfully aware that their peers have moved off into work or further training and education, and that they are still at school – this is hard. However, staying on may make them happier too.
  2. The whole idea that youth with extra learning needs can stay at school until they are 21 is because they need MORE, not less – hence the extra three years. Is this not blindingly obvious? More. Not less. Yes, littlies need early intervention too, but not at our youths’ expense.
  3. For many families it takes a long time to establish that their children need extra learning support – not from lack of trying either. For some families this isn’t clear until their children actually start school. So these kids could miss that early intervention and the support in the last stages. Sure, extra funding for ECE may catch more children who might otherwise fall through the gaps. But if you take my kid as an example – a child who started ECE, and then on to Kōhanga from age 2.5yrs, with a specialist teacher for ORS children as a mother, it still took us 4.5yrs to diagnose her needs-  it is not always simple.
  4. Finally, why does it have to be one or the other? Are all children not worthy, regardless of age or stage?

Hekia is trying to make this move under the guise of a more inclusive education system in which she says there needs to be more “clear accountabilities” and “at the moment we mostly focus on and measure inputs”.

To quote Stuff – ‘This would mean schools would need to show students receiving funding had made progress in their academic achievement, which would be measured through their National Standards and NCEA results.’

Thank goodness my kid’s school refuses to drag our children through the time-consuming, unhelpful and ultimately humiliating process that is National Standards. If they did, my daughter would be WELL BELOW, all the time. Well, she ain’t below anything Hekia.

Again, a few pointers:

  1. National Standards compare children against each other. How fair is it for a kid with a developmental delay, or a sensory processing disorder to be pitted against a child who glides through academic learning? What does that achieve, and for whom?
  2. When you measure kids who don’t fit the mould with NS, they bring down the whole school’s score – by which I mean, the final NS results for a school appear lower, which puts pressure on the teachers who are already doing their best. NS are not reflective of what the teachers DO do and how individual kids progress themselves, from their own starting points. This is what matters, not how they compare to others.
  3. NS only measures some areas of learning, and disregards the arts, much of technology and science, and critically – social learning. Yes, these things are all inseparable from each other, but NS sure knows how to drill down to the fine points to compartmentalise learning. Some kids won’t necessarily thrive in academic subjects but that may not matter, depending on how everything else goes for them. Again. My kid would look like a failure on paper to Hekia, but she’s never seen her in centre stage.

I’m glad Labour’s Education spokesperson Chris Hipkins chimed in with some sense. ‘using those measures was “utterly uninclusive” and “bizarre”. Kids are receiving ORS funding because they have a serious impairment or physical disability. To suggest National Standards or NCEA as a way to assess their success and the quality of their education is ridiculous.’ I couldn’t agree more.

And the second sting from the Hekia machine…

She is suggesting that some children could learn entirely online from providers who are ‘COOL’. That is, a ‘Community of online Learning’. This proposed change is part of the Education (Update) Amendment Bill introduced to Parliament this week.

COOL Providers could be schools, tertiary providers or *shudder*, private industries. The former is not too far-fetched. I can imagine some schools setting up online learning for children who may do better at home, or who have a mix of on and off site learning. Tertiary education providers delivering entirely online is nothing new. But private industries?! Here are my points:

  1. Private industries have no place in schooling. They are out for a profit, nothing else. They may say otherwise, but they are not primarily for the benefit of children. End of story. No one can convince me otherwise.
  2. Hekia sells this as an effort to appease digital companies who have made it clear to the government that there are not enough school leavers entering the work force with the skills required for working in technology. Saying that technology can just teach the kids technology is like whacking kids over the head with a maths text book, or expecting children to learn to play instruments by simply watching a band play all day, or sitting in a room full of instruments. Kids need support and direction from people.
  3. Social connections and relationships are the most important factors in any learning. We need more people not less. More skilled teachers for all students to meet ALL needs, whether they need extra support or not. Better teacher to child ratios.

Going back to my first statements about how wonderfully immersed my family is in our children’s educations, and how important these sites of education are for us each day. They are not just places our kids go to learn. They are places for all of us.  There we meet other families whose children may be on a similar path to ours. We swap notes and support each other. We up skill ourselves. Our children know there are many adults who have their backs. They know they belong somewhere, that they are a part of something that matters. That they matter. Critically, they see their parents interacting positively and meaningfully with their teachers. There are no barriers. We are teams, for the benefit of our families.

Hekia, please do not remove the funding that so many young people rely on in their final years, within the safety of their schools. It is crucial for that big step they take into the world , a world which is ultimately not made for them, that is hard enough. The more knowledge and resources they take out there with them the better, for them and for society as a whole.

Hekia, please stop side lining us teachers. We understand kids, we know about teaching and learning. It is what we do. We are professionals, we are experts. We are telling you that relationships are what matter. That connection is what supports children. It gives them confidence, courage, and companionship. These things are invaluable and National Standards doesn’t measure them. Computers can’t teach them. But communities do. Parents know who has their kids backs and who doesn’t. Don’t pull the rug out from beneath us. Make the foundations stronger instead.

Lastly, Hekia – watch this, because every kid does need a champion. Educationalist Rita Pierson breaks down the importance of relationships in learning, and life. I have lost count of how many times I have watched this and it still makes me laugh, and cry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hoake tātou! Everybody, get on the waka

Me he manawa tītī!

and…….Oh kuuuummmmon.

Today, or yesterday, or every day, John Key said this:

“Obviously like any language, (Māori) is a series of words, and of course if you can understand those words, then I can understand what they’re saying”

Choice, John Key. Choice. That didn’t really make sense grammatically though did it (they or I?), but hey, talking good is not eveyone’s strength.

Sorry everyone, for kicking off a post with a quote from him-most-truly. I am going to move on reeeeaally quick, I promise.

John – love the honesty! “what they’re saying”, keep up the othering why don’t ya.”Series of words” – yeah nothing much to it really. “Any language” – nice and dismissive, with a pinch of a diminishing smirk. Te Reo Māori is just like any other language. Piece of cake. Others, them, those, not me. Not my issue. cause’ “I’m John Key, and I can understand things”, “I know words”.

Ok, like I said, moving on.

When I read or hear quotes like this, I feel really defensive. I feel offended. I feel protective. I feel disappointed and angry. BUT Ko tēnei te wiki o Te Reo Māori!!!!, so I ain’t going to let anyone, especially not John Key get me down. Here is why.

I’ve started this important week of the year, like any other Monday, at my mahi. Where  I support several early childhood centres: their educators and tamariki, in learning Te Reo, in actually walking the talk with Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and just generally being amazing citizens and not racist people. They are so great. I love them. They are dedicated and hard-working. They see the importance of and value in Te Ao Māori. They are doing what we should all be doing. Having a kōrero, and seeing how amazing it is. No more excuses, enough of the blame game or defensiveness. Te Reo is choice.

I also attended a wānanga all weekend long at my big kid’s kura. Parents and teachers dedicated their weekend for their tamariki. For their kura. And it is our kura. It is a marae away from marae. It was all about their learning, and of course about their reo, the reo of the kura and wider community. People got up, one after the other, and poured their hearts out. Sharing what being Māori means to them, what Te Reo is for them, and what they have to contribute to the kura going forward. Laying down all lengths they will go to. And there are many.

It was a beautiful time. Something I will always remember. We laughed and cried, together. In Te Reo.

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These wānanga are things that many kura and kōhanga do, a lot. A time where teachers and parents get together and really communicate. Where tamariki are truly at the centre of the conversation. This is the kind of thing that mainstream schools can only dream of, because of the way they are structured. Now, this post is not about education per se, but there is a lot to be learned from Māori ways of knowing and living, that everyone can learn from. I’m not saying lets all operate like a kura.

But I’m also not saying “like any language, is a series of words” either.

As I said earlier, I feel defensive when I hear people, particularly those in positions of massive influence and power, shrug off Te Reo. When they don’t pay it the due attention and respect it demands.

Actually, I’m sorry, I do need to go back to John Key now. But the following is for anyone – not just him, and it is said out of my love of Te Reo, my love for my partner and our children, my love for things Māori, and especially for my kid’s teachers – for our whānau and whānau whānui.

Every day I am in contact with the sharpest of tacks. The most willing of people. These people, myself included, are hell-bent on using Te Reo whenever we can, wherever we can. And it is not always easy. But we know its beauty and power. We love the way it sounds. The things that can be expressed in it, the knowledge that can only travel in it. Keeping a language going can be really hard mahi:

  • We arrange expense babysitting, or twist an aunty’s arm so we can attend night classes in Te Reo after a long day at work.
  • We attend weekly playground session in Te Reo, so the door is opened for our little ones.
  • We organise BBQs and kids play dates around learning Te Reo. Creating places in our lives where we can kōrero. This is easier said than done, believe me.
  • We painstakingly type, print off, cut out and stick labels on every object in our whare. In Te Reo. Because if you are learning Māori as an adult, it is hard. You need all the support you can get!
  • We learn lullabies for our little ones in Te Reo.
  • We compose waiata in Te Reo Rangatira.
  • We petition our schools to do more in honouring the treaty.
  • We seek to understand the treaty.
  • We go to workshops and upskill.
  • We are Māori. We are Pāhekā (only .3% though according to latest stats), we are Japanese and Spanish.
  • We are women and LGBTI. We are men and children. Young and old.
  • We do it in spite of. We do it as well as.

We kōrero, kōrero, kōrero. And:

I can understand what they are saying.

I really can, John. Well, I try really hard to – as a Pāhekā Nu Zulunda. And I  don’t actually think you can. Understanding enough to get through a pōwhiri, or to mince another mihi at the start of a meeting does not amount to “understanding what they’re saying”.

Because, what we are saying is:

Te Reo Māori is a taonga. It is absolutely fundamental to being Māori, to this land, to history and to the future of Te Ao Māori. Arguably, there is no Ao without it. And it is in dire straights right now. You can do something about this. Me tīmata i te wiki nei!

– Fund kōhanga and kura equitably with mainstream.

– Insist, and legislate, that ALL teachers must learn Te Reo and make learning it compulsory in all schools while you are at it. Kids love it, and it is EASY for them! It opens a whole new world for them. There is nothing to be lost. Only gains to be made. Start with the tamariki. This will save the government a lot of money.

– Understand that bilingualism and multilingualism are GOOD FOR THE BLIMMIN BRAIN. And even the economy.

– And, that people can only really understand each other when they understand each others languages. There is no way that you can say that you “understand what they’re saying”. You do not. Your politics say it all.

– And finally, leave it up to them. Relinquish control. Or at least, stop suppressing the power and control that Māori already have over their lives. It is there, let it shine and prosper.

And ending on a positive note, here is an amazing blog post on super sneaky and effective ways to get your kids speaking Māori along side you. This is the future, this is the solution.

’10 ways to trick your kid into speaking Māori again’

Mauri ora!

What you feed, grows

This week has been one foot in front of the other. All week. Plod plod, hurry hurry, bang crash, slam and slide. Shuffle. Each step has felt heavy and unavoidable but somehow deliberate and purposeful. Perhaps thanks to all the self talk I’ve been doing. Trying to keep it all in check. ‘It is ok to feel this way’, ‘Stop for a minute and think, ‘Take a few breaths’, ‘What really matters right now?’, and my favourite – ‘I am the adult, they are the children, I am the adult, they are the children’….it so easy to say isn’t it?

And this is just my parenting.

Thoughts have been swirling around my head, thick and hazy. Hard to get a hold of. I feel really tired. But the kids aren’t hanging off me right this second, so I have a little time to myself. They are sleeping in fact. I really love them when they are sleeping, for obvious reasons. Also, all kids are beautiful to gaze at as they sleep. Their big juicy lips, pouting. Their eyelids, crescent and peaceful. Their day is done, another is on its way. A fresh start. A clean slate. I wish adults would operate like this too. But we hold on so tightly to everything, until we are so full it hurts.

My partner and I have recently finished a parenting course. Because parenting is hard and all too often it is done in isolation. But we did this together. Along with 16 other parents who also have challenging children.

Of all the wonderful things we got out of this time, one thing really stood out to me. A gem of wisdom I think the whole world could take heed of. Something I don’t do enough of myself.

‘What you feed, grows’

In the context of parenting, it is fundamental. But it is also a principal for all to take hold of. Give attention to the behaviours you want to see. Even when they are only being displayed them 1% of the time. Even when you are so mad and bad yourself. And they are mad and bad to you. Make a big deal of the 1%, or the 15%, or the 50%. Be consistent with your attention. Ignore as much of the bad behaviour as possible, and be straight to the bone with any negative behaviour you do need to address. Practice restorative solutions. Simple and clear. Focus on what they have done, rather than them when they are off target. And really hone in on exactly what it is they did well when they are on track. As well as letting them know they are amazing and that you love them all the time.

Kids constantly seek attention and they are excellent at getting it any way they can. So give them good attention. Play with them. Celebrate them. Then, get better behaviour. It doesn’t take too long until they re-wire themselves to seek attention positively.

It makes complete sense. There are no holes to be picked in this theory. It is so solid, it isn’t even a theory, it just is. It is a simple truth: Water plants, they grow, smile at someone, they (usually) smile back, practice makes perfect, eat well, rest and cope for another day – see, all of these things. Proof.

But as always, there is a flip side – Worry too much and everything compounds, plant vegetables in the shade and they won’t thrive, only ever yell at your kids and your relationship will turn toxic, burn the candle at both ends….and so on it goes.

‘What you feed, grows’

I need to fess up here, I am a glass half full kind of person. I am very practical, I like to get things going, get things done – subsequently I focus on perceived gaps in situations. The parts that I feel are less than. I notice when things have gone wrong in my books, or if I think something should be done better, or a certain way. As a result, I often fail to see what IS already there, what HAS been done and the things that ARE working well. It is great to see the next step, but it is crucial to know what is actually already happening too.

As a society, we need to think about what we focus on. What we shine a light on. Who we give air time to. What we celebrate and who we celebrate. Because, what we feed is what will grow. We have a choice in this.

This week I’ve felt the weight of the world. There are days when it feels like everything is coming together – not in a ‘ohh, this is really coming together now’, kind of way, more of a – ‘argh there a bit and pieces of broken dreams, scary nightmares and devastating lived realities all flying around and smashing into each other, kind of a coming together.  And potentially getting together, against you, despite your best efforts, kind of a way.

Like you are falling into a vortex of darkness, with said small sharp things swirling, which you are of course, deftly ducking to avoid.

Images of our awful government flash in front of my eyes as I watch my children playing, feeling frustrated that there is literally no way we can buy a house, or even hope to continue affording renting in the suburb they were born and raised in, no matter how hard we work.  Angry thoughts that my friends with small babies are not fully supported to stay at home with them if they so choose. A horror at the growing number of people living in poverty in our communities, and the contempt in which the rich of this country hold them.  A sense of doom when reading world news and politics.

All the while a moaning ‘why do I even bother’ bellows from somewhere deep within.

There really is a whole bunch of bad shit going down in our communities. There is no disputing this. We hear about it all the time. Sometimes I think it is all we hear about, purposefully. It is overwhelming. Bad news is disempowering. The dark spots are joining up, blocking out the light, the good, hard work people are doing. This doesn’t have to happen.

 ‘What you feed,  grows’

How are we to counteract all the narrow-minded, hateful news reporting we are feed? How can we show each other that there are other ways? How do we raise children who are understanding of each other and respectful and celebratory of difference?

We feed what we want to grow.

In this week of heavy footsteps, another mantra of mine is:

‘People are good, and they are doing good things’

If we stop and think, if we look around and take stock. We see that people are good. Almost everyone wants to do right by each other (there sure are some bad eggs out, but I’m not talking about them right now).

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Philly Pride Parade 2015

People are trying really hard every where I look, in spite of what is thrown their way. This is where the focus needs to be. I’m sick of hearing about Isis attempting to take over the world and Trump wanting to build a wall. Of course we need to know and understand these things, but I want to hear more about all the amazing peace work on the ground. The grassroots – these people are the majority. Then surely there will be more hope and fewer people mindlessly nodding along to the news in their living rooms at the ‘need’ for more civilian airstrikes. Because this is what they are. It is the civilians who suffer.

Mainstream news is spun to incite more hatred, to create more power for the greedy. I don’t buy it. Muslims are not terrorists.  Governments and corporations are. I want to know more about LGBTI communities in the US, and their work in dismantling decades of prejudice against them. Can this be the news please, rather than Omar Mateen?

I’m tired of hearing about lazy indigenous people (not true), instead I want to read news about all their awe-inspiring social and education initiatives – and just about them, amazing them. The Ainu of Japan and their friends at Parihaka this month for example.

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Māori teach Ainu the ‘Te Ataarangi’ method of language learning, June 2016

And, as funny as ‘like Mike’ is, I’m tired of hearing about Mike Hosking. I want to know more about the peace hīkoi from New Plymouth to Parihaka at the moment.

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New Plymouth mayor Andrew Judd is back by his supporters as they hīkoi to Parihaka.

We each have visions of how we hope the world will grow. But these visions are purposefully blurred in the deprivation of what should be receiving positive attention, the love, the nourishment. To the point that we stop looking up as we walk about. Instead, we look down at our tired and drudging footsteps. ‘Why bother’.

This week, I’ve been consciously looking up, looking around and taking stock. And I’ve seen people everywhere who are thinking differently, who are trying new ways of doing things, people who refuse to put their energies into vortexes of darkness, sadness and doom.

I am certain that if we all read and learn about each others successes and ideas, and just hear each others voices more often, uninterrupted by mainstream media – we would feel much more secure in the knowledge that people are good.

We would be much more likely to reach out and help each other. Much more likely to give something new a go, or to support someone else in their ventures. We would be less likely to believe that we are powerless. It is in the interests of the corrupt and powerful to lead us to this conclusion. It is not true.

The people are the majority, we have the power. We are not all our to get each other. Quite the opposite.

Stop and reflect, attend to and nourish those around you. And we will all grow.

 

 

A challenge to Alan Duff’s damaging words

Alan Duff, I find it hard to know where to start. As a mother of two beautiful Māori girls – you have offended my whānau deeply. Our immediate kura and kōhanga community and my girls hapū and iwi. In fact many Māori will be upset now, because your latest opinion piece infers that child abuse is a part of Māori life . This is simply not true, and so I will challenge you on the broad, ad-hock and completely disconnected statements you have made. Also, I will not stomach your sexist attitude, that reinforces the gender power imbalances which are the undercurrents for almost all domestic violence cases.

There is enough Māori bashing, enough racism and enough misogyny around without you adding to it. It defies belief that a Māori man could misrepresent his own people so hurtfully, be so blatantly sexist and willingly lead people astray on an issue that intersects several deeply embedded problems in our society: colonisation, systemic poverty and patriarchy. When what we need most is robust discussion and analysis.

I feel frustrated at the amount of airtime you get to spread your views, and don’t wish to give you or the Herald anymore, however – I cannot ignore you this time. The public need an alternative.

I hear and feel your outrage at the shocking levels of child abuse we withstand in our country. Most people do. Māori children are twice as likely to suffer any form of abuse. It’s not ok. You are right.

As a Pākehā woman, I won’t talk too much to the disparaging comments you have made about Māori, as that is a mantle for Māori to take up – I will not tread on toes. But I will go into depth regarding your sexism.

So here we go, I’m going to flip your script. Here are your comments, followed by what I hear.

Some Maori have no moral values because they’re not taught them. Violence is perfectly acceptable behaviour, indeed admired; whether it’s king-hitting a stranger in a pub, beating up the wife or partner, thrashing their children.

FTS – Yes, some Māori do not have a good moral compass, but you could say this for any ethnicity.

It must be instilled in everyone’s brains from a young age that certain behaviours are totally unacceptable. Love must be taught as the founding base for a successful family. Education as the way forward. Every act of violence except in self-defence must be socially outlawed, considered a shameful let-down of the entire community.

FTS – Yes, agreed. Again, this applies to all people. Moving right along.

Cultural leaders should review the entire kapa haka syllabus, I believe. I’m sick of the screaming, eye-popping haka. The standard of predictable, simplistic singing should be lifted.

FTS – What the hell?! Where does this bit come from? Do you understand kapahaka? Do you get that haka and waiata come in innumerable forms which have many uses! What you may be talking about is the cherry picked haka that mainstream media trot out to represent ‘good Māori’ and the ‘kiwi way of life’. These haka are great, don’t get me wrong. But they are a drop in the vast ocean. This comment is so offensive, to all Māori who waiata daily, whose tikanga practices incorporate haka, mōteatea and patere – and the list goes on. And to all composers of kapahaka – these are incredible people. Taonga. Have you ever been to Matatini? You are buying into the colonisers simplistic interpretation of haka. It is all much more than a supposed incitement of violence. The worst thing about this, is that your comment represents so many others.

When you say “The standard of predictable, simplistic singing should be lifted” What I hear is  is “be more nice and lovely on the side, just a little flourish here and there, so as not to unsettle those who do not understand.”

For those of us who are involved in Te Ao Māori, this sentiment is so tiring, it so boring.

Now here is the doosy……

In everyday life, my opinion is girls should be brought up like the French are: to be feminine, take a pride in how they dress, walk with dignity and grace wherever they go out in public and always keep the standards.

FTS – WHAT HAS THIS GOT TO DO WITH THE PRICE OF IKAAAAAAA?!?!? OMG, wrong number Alan. I’m going to keep this one simple for you, like bullet point simple. Seems you need a feminism 101 lecture.

  • Do not insult French girls and women by minimising their existences to their dress, the way the move one foot in front of the other and their choice in how they express themselves. On behalf of all French people, I am truly sorry.
  • Girls are taught to be nice, accommodating, uncomplaining, quiet and meek – all the time. Men are taught the opposite. This is one of the biggest factors in our gender imbalances. This plays out in its most dangerous form in volatile relationships and domestic violence. This is a cause of domestic violence for goodness sake and YOU have just advocated for it. GIRLS MUST NOT BE NICE and SMILE in the face of bullshit. WOMEN’S dignity is in the respect they receive from others, for being whoever they want to be. You have no place defining what is graceful or not for women. Who’s standards? Yours? Men’s? Go get.

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    Kia ora, I’m Alan Duff and I like long walks on the beach and women who ‘keep the standard’
  • What does feminine even mean? You need to understand Gender Essensialism:Gender essentialism often excuses gender-based oppressions and discriminations in societies, such as what roles parents play, what jobs people hold, expectations held of each other and skill bases. Gender essentialism simultaneously reinforces gender stereotypes, while being informed by them. Gender essentialism relies on the perpetuation of a binary, polarised world, free of ambiguity, where two neat tidy genders exist and know their place in the world.  – So yeah, no thanks. DO NOT tell women that they need to be feminine. They can be if they want, how they want. We certainly do not need another man telling us how to be.
  • Rape culture, you also need to know about this. Because what I heard you say is that somehow, women need to take responsibility for the ‘reasons’ they are attacked by men. That what they wear, how they move, what ‘standards’ they uphold – lead to the actions that men take. – Rape culture as a term is designed to show the ways in which society blames victims of sexual assault and normalises male sexual violence. It is a culture that encourages boys and men to be macho and aggressive, and girls and women to be submissive and compliant. A society that allows a quarter of women and girls to be raped or sexually assaulted, and 1/6 of men and boys. Where 3 per cent of rapists are jailed after just 6 per cent of rapes and assaults are ever reported. A social culture in which rape jokes and cat calls are heard and normalised, where the male gaze pervades pop music and the visual arts. Where children are sexualised by clothing and toy companies. Rape culture has implications for all and is everyone’s issue regardless of gender.
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Dear Duffy, I hope your dreams are filled with Māori women being dignified with amazing standards. I know mine are: of my daughters growing up like this.

Also:

Boys should be taught to respect females.

FTS – Why, yes they should. How about reversing everything you said about what women need to do above, and apply it to boys and men too, that would be a good start. A few other things would help too:

  • Educating, and then ignoring the ‘Boys will be boys’ brigade. We don’t need to hear it anymore. The buck stops. Accountability is made. No more excuses.
  • Again, you have positioned women as passive actors. As if it is only boys and men who have the control and power to make change. Untrue. Girls can be taught differently too. They must be empowered. Boys must be empowered. Girls can lead the technology group and boys can cry if they fall over, simple as.
  • Finally, go and research heteronormativity: Heteronormativity are the actions of a gender essentialist’s ideal world, one in which men and women fall into distinct categories with clear roles and expectations, where heterosexuality is the norm reinforced in power structures such as legislation and the media. I say this because many LGBTQ people are attacked every day for not being man or woman enough. I guess, for some women, your logic says it is their fault for not being feminine and holding up the right standards. Still, I don’t know what these standards are. One can only guess. Actually, I don’t want to know about your yucky standards.

There would be no shame in taking a leaf out of the Chinese book where parents, family members, all work hard to push a few more up into the educated or business-owning bracket. Reading has to be an essential part of that home environment.

FTS –  Again, where does this come from? Do you mean that Māori don’t try hard enough? That they don’t have hopes and dreams for their whānau?! Privilege check Alan, Poverty: it excludes a lot of Māori from tertiary education. Regardless of how supportive any family is, not everyone wins in monopoly. Not every whānau wants to operate in this pushy Chinese style you speak of. Not all Chinese do. Don’t be racist.

Yes, I love reading too. So do my Māori children. So does their kura.

Pre-European Maori culture was simple and no blame is attached. But I think it is when this too basic societal model is applied in the 21st century.

FTS – Ok, now you are just sounding outright crazy. It’s not like my partner and daughters have just stepped out of a cave wielding kotiate or anything….because this is what I hear. Guess what, all cultures evolve – and the picture you paint of pre-colonial Aotearoa is untrue. Anne Salmond illustrates this beautifully. Guess what, the European colonisers of Aotearoa have really out done everyone else throughout history (an continue to do so) in the violent, black and white, good vs bad, uncivilised vs civilised approach to solving issues. War war, everywhere.

Everyone had a Jake as a father, older brother, any number of uncles. Some were women.

FTS- Yes, it is ok for a woman to be called Jake, or to be a non-feminine woman, sure (I don’t think this is what you meant though, but I like to think it is). Everyone had Jake as a Dad? Again, you’ve overstepped the mark. This is just not true. Maybe you did, and we are sorry for that. That was not ok. It sucks.

And finally:

And someone has to point out that cultural activities do not get them a job or a mortgage.

FTS – Again, lies. Heaps of people make a living in the arts. Heaps of Māori do. They are awesome at it. Isn’t this what you meant in your remarks about haka earlier? Now I am confused. Also, YOU WRITE BOOKS AND MAKE FILMS FOR A LIVING…….these are cultural activities and THESE ARE YOUR JOBS. Or am I missing something?

And who wants a mortgage anyway (ha ha ha, rolling around in maniacal laughter, because – who buys a house these days?!?…..cue housing crisis conversation). Please refer back to how not everyone can win monopoly – capitalism and neo-liberalism is actually killing the planet. I’ll have more singing, dancing and visual arts in my life any day. Not everyone is in it for a 9-5 office job and not all Māori are deeply involved in whatever it is you are reducing to and relegating as ‘cultural activities’. Or if they do work 9-5, sweet as. Good for them, not your place to judge.

And actually, these cultural activities that I think you are referring to are intrinsic to being Māori . The problem is, that people like you come along – and say that violence against women and children is somehow intrinsic to being Māori – and that crucial elements like the ‘arts’ (ie things that are part and parcel of operating in Te Ao Māori) are a waste of time for Māori. How wrong you are.

To me, herein lies the solution.

Bubba Moko: A victim of patriarchal violence

Yesterday, hundreds of people took to the streets of Aotearoa New Zealand – crying for change, calling for action. They respectfully demanded attention for the 200 plus children that have been killed in this country in the past two decades alone. All at the hands of caregivers who should have been nurturing them.

In August 2015, Moko Rangitoheriri was killed by two adults who were entrusted with his care. He was just 3 at the time of his torturous death. His killers: Tania Shailer and David Haerewa, were 26 and 43 respectively. Shame, shame, shame. Debate surrounds their convictions of manslaughter. It is hard to imagine they did not murder him. They are parents of young children too, they egged each other on as if it were sport. It was calculated.

Regardless of what we call it, their actions and the outcomes. Their own back stories need to be understood. In most cases, those who kill children, have suffered immensely in their own lives. I do not mean to diminish Shailer and Haerewa’s actions in the slightest. But we must not disregard their lives if we are to prevent further abuses of children under our watch.

We are not yet managing to stop the cycles of violence against women and children. The Haerewa whānau are a case in point. David’s uncle, Ben Haerewa, killed his step-son: 4-year-old James Whakaruru, in 1998. At that time, the Whakaruru whānau had come to the attention of care and protection services 6 times, the Haerewa whānau – 13 times! In 2010, David’s brother John was sentenced to 17 years for the murder of a Wellington woman. Although it does happens occasionally, it is rare for this sort of violence to come out of the blue. The webs of violence go a long way back, and are intricately connected to some of the most powerful forces in our society: Patriarchy, poverty and institutionalised racism. Right now, I want to draw your attention to the connection between our violent society and patriarchy now.

I define patriarchy in the following way:

Patriarchy describes male-dominated power structures, which permeate throughout organised society, in political systems as well as in individual relationships. It is systemic bias against women and non cis-male people. Patriarchy can be recognised as the intuitions and companies that are run in the majority by men that mostly benefit men; where taking maternity leave or breastfeeding a baby at work is a problem; where being a transsexual makes using the toilets an issue. Patriarchy is also a family group or community controlled by powerful men – fathers and grandfathers who give more privilege to boys and men in that group. Patriarchy is a world that benefits cis-men over everyone else.

Among those marching yesterday was Vic Tamati. He is a courageous and committed man. He is insistent that violence needs to stop with the perpetrator, and knows that they cannot do it alone – that community support must surround them. He also recognises that all to often, it is men committing the violence, largely against women and children. He continues to dedicated a large chunk of his adult life to turning the tide around for his own whānau, and also supports others to do the same.

We need more Vics’ out there. More men seeing the sexism at play in their actions. More men understanding that mens’ violence against women and children is structural in its roots and that the buck stops somewhere, somehow.  More men seeing that this sexist-violence is everywhere. Enough of women picking up the pieces.

Although Moko’s face is another beautiful brown one, this is everyone’s problem, our collective responsibility. Our Pākehā whānau are just as prone, just as guilty.We have our mainstream media to blame for skewing the view and hiding the realities we face.

We see the faces of Māori and other non-Pākehā in the news more, because that makes it so much easier for a huge swathe of society to wash its hands – unsurprising, the large group that is comprised of white men who weld the most power in this country. The section that does not want to admit that violence is perpetrated by all ilks, and that we are all part of the solution. All lives are affected by men’s violence somewhere along the line.

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We all know that Moko was killed by a woman and a man. We also know that David was released from prison weeks before Moko’s death, and that his relationship with Tania was a violent one. We know too, that many children, who experience abuse like Moko did, do so at the hands of their mothers’ partners.

These partners and step-‘fathers’ are not only violent to the children, but to their mothers. These are men who silence mothers, preventing them from seeking help, these are men who seek control and power in the abuse of those they should care for.

We have men’s violence in these epic proportions because we are a patriarchal society. We tell our men that they have the power, that they have the control – and this is what we get. We let our little boys push girls around because “this is how they show they like you” and after all, “boys will be boys”. We encourage our teenage boys to play hours of violent video games while we cook dinner, where they can hire and run over prostitutes for points. We let groups of young men off the hook for drugging and gang-raping underage children. We don’t let little boys cry when they get their immunisations, and we admonish any other signs of less-than masculine behaviour on a daily basis. Because, an unmanly man will have no control, and therefore no power. This is what we are saying.

I plead with readers to look beyond the latest headline. To ask ‘WHY did they do that?’, ‘What got them to that place in their lives’ ‘Why are these men so angry?!’ ‘Why can’t they communicate in non-violent ways?’

And most importantly, ‘What should have been done differently’. The reports of Moko’s death are harrowing and should keep anyone up at night. However, while lying there awake at night, think about how our society is structured as well.

Why are our men killing us they way they are? Why are our women and children not safe in the streets and in their own homes? Our media needs to be asking the same questions. They are our mouth pieces whether we like it or not. They must weave the threads of patriarchy, poverty and racism into their reporting as well as the horrific details. We get nowhere otherwise, all we do is deflect and protect the privilege that men hold in society.

And why we are all pondering, flick $5 to the Women’s Refuge, while finding out more about our patriarchal society:

FREERANGE VOL. 10: FEMINISM AND TECHNOLOGY WOR(L)DS – Digital Fundraiser