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The little nation that could, and can, and will

24/3/2019

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With thanks, and in response to, so many people from so many countries
who have sent messages of regret and goodwill.

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Nine days ago our country was rocked by an event that few here expected would ever happen in Aotearoa-New Zealand. Even though we’re not so naïve to believe it’s perfect, we Kiwis often refer to this place as ‘God’s Own’ or ‘Godzone’.
     As the perpetrator of this horrendous event apparently made clear before he carried it out, he chose New Zealand as the place for his hate-inspired action for the very reason that most here would think it would be the very last part of the world it could occur. In that belief alone,
he was right, which made us wrong. Hence the shockwave that resounded through the country, and will continue to do so.
     When, on that first dreadful day, I heard of his statement that his purpose was to send a warning to the Muslim world that if this could happen to their people here they were not safe anywhere, I knew he had failed to understand the mind of New Zealanders.
     He was too young to know that we are the people who, in 1981, stopped a rugby tour in order to demonstrate to South Africa we did not agree with its policy of apartheid. 
     And he was too young to know that this is not the first time Aotearoa-New Zealand has experienced international terrorism on our shores. Thirty-four years ago the French government sent a team of secret agents to bomb the Greenpeace vessel, Rainbow Warrior, in Auckland Harbour in order to stop it leading a flotilla in protest at nuclear testing at Mururoa atoll in French Polynesia. That time too the planners underestimated the reaction of our citizens. 
     On that occasion, so incensed were we that our land had been made the scene of such an abhorrent deed, and so indignant that our sovereignty had been breached, that the population rose as one against the act. Within days some of the agents were arrested to be put on trial. 
     Even more spectacular was the way the population rallied in support of the planned protest. People who had barely thought of the issues before, flocked to donate money, goods, ships to make the voyage, so it could go ahead. This little-nation-that-could stood against larger powers, in solidarity with its smaller South Pacific island nations, and passed nuclear-free legislation, a stance that is still supported fiercely. 
     It was not the place of this recent terrorist to try to overthrow our policy to allow immigrants to become citizens of this country. By doing so, he flouted the hospitality he himself had been shown as a visitor here.
     If he knew us, he would have known how New Zealanders of every faith and none, would strip gardens and florists bare of flowers to place in front of mosques and Islamic centres around the country, how we would stand outside those places to ensure that those inside could pray in safety. He could have foreseen that Kiwi women, heads scarf-covered, would stand alongside their Muslim ‘sisters’. 
     He might have known that at so many of those gatherings a haka, either rehearsed or spontaneous, would demonstrate the fervour of our intent. Anyone visiting these shores should never, ever, underestimate the power and the warning of the haka.
     From his cell in solitary confinement this murderer won’t know of the events of the days that followed – how people would embrace Muslims in the street, invite their neighbours into their homes. He will be ignorant of the rallies as people massed to state their opposition to his hate. He would not know that those martyred were buried at the state’s expense, and of the multi-million dollars collected to help their families. On the following Friday as the nation stopped to remember, he didn’t hear the Islamic call to prayer broadcast on National Radio, but by default he joined in the two-minute silence observed across Aotearoa.
     If this murderer had thought of the reactions around this country he might have thought again about coming here on his mission of hate. As it is, he has made us more united.
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​To the unnamed woman who…

13/3/2019

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In my previous blog (see below) I mentioned International Women’s Day.
    On the afternoon of the day, while I did some tidying in the garden, I listened to National Radio here in New Zealand.
    The announcer gave the day good coverage and asked people to send in nominations for the woman they felt deserved more recognition than she received – presumably in her lifetime or since.
    Names were forthcoming and, while busy with trowel and rake, I heard of women who invented things, who worked for reform in a specific area, or otherwise made some contribution to the world. That’s great, they should all be remembered for what they achieved – often against the odds because of societal pressure.
    At the same time, I felt a growing sadness that maybe we were partly missing the point. The women nominated are remembered. Knowledge of them lives on in records. We know their names. Most likely, they could act as they did because they were privileged women – educated, in a situation where they could make some mark and be acknowledged for it.
    I found myself thinking of the millions of unnamed women we will never know anything about – women who toiled all their lives just to survive, and probably to ensure that others did also. 
    Perhaps I’d nominate the pioneer woman who accompanied her husband to an unknown land away from all she knew and bore the brunt of the hardship. A woman who had 15 children, one a year, without any relief from pain or release from the day’s work, who watched the majority of them die of various illnesses, and who herself died, worn out, in childbirth.
    Who was she? I don’t know. That’s the point. There will be not one but many whose life followed a similar pattern. 
    And across the globe, over centuries past, millions of non-privileged, ordinary, women lived lives marked by other circumstances we might now consider extraordinary. We don’t know the names, but they too deserve more recognition than they have received.
    So, here’s to the unnamed woman who…

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2 days dear to my heart

7/3/2019

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​I see there are two notable specially designated days this week – World Book Day, and International Women’s Day – both marking concepts very dear to my heart.
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Today, on World Book Day, relevant participating organizations aim to give every child and young person a book of their own. 


   I contributed by posting a bag of children’s books I’d bought a while ago for gifts, to a whanau group hoping to mark the day in that way. Very nice books they were – they’ll be lucky children who get them. And I like to think they, their children, the country, will benefit in the future if the recipients learn to love and appreciate reading. Win-win-win!
​   
Everyone can help today, or any day, by reading a story to a child.

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Tomorrow, March 8, it’s International Women’s Day.
   This year’s theme for the day is #BalanceforBetter – building a gender-balanced world. I’ve been working for that aim all my life. Over the decades I’ve seen improvements, so I’ll spend the day reflecting on and celebrating that.
    This is a principle that can’t be left to one day in a year. For the next 356 I’ll be doing my bit, however I can, to make sure I can celebrate it even more confidently next year. 

   In 1893 one of my women ancestors signed the Women’s Suffrage petition that made New Zealand the first country to grant women the vote, and bring in universal suffrage. It’s a legacy I, my sisters, our children and grandchildren are very proud of, and we’re not letting her down.

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