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Co-founders of Flying Fetu, Grace Iwashita-Taylor and Lana Lopesi. (Image: Tina Tiller)
Co-founders of Flying Fetu, Grace Iwashita-Taylor and Lana Lopesi. (Image: Tina Tiller)

ĀteaNovember 3, 2022

When writers festivals make you feel like a token Pasifika, you create something new

Co-founders of Flying Fetu, Grace Iwashita-Taylor and Lana Lopesi. (Image: Tina Tiller)
Co-founders of Flying Fetu, Grace Iwashita-Taylor and Lana Lopesi. (Image: Tina Tiller)

Nathaniel Lees, Tusiata Avia, Victor Rodger and more are coming together for an event that budding Moana writers shouldn’t miss. 

Lana Lopesi remembers it as the time of her life. The non-fiction author and journalist was speaking at this year’s Auckland Writers Festival with Coco Solid (Jessica Hansell) in what she describes as one of her best sessions she’s ever had. The two wāhine toa held an hour-long conversation about their recent books, until the floor opened up for questions, one of which left the pair temporarily speechless.

“A man asked us what our thoughts were on Foucault. And we both looked at each other, not sure of what to say,” Lopesi says. “My face was stunned because neither of us brought up the French philosopher and so Jess responded to that before we moved on. It was so weird.”

That encounter is typical of the kind of thing writers of the Moana face when invited to such spaces. Lopesi talks about having to act a certain way at writers festival events, awkwardly trying to share her wisdom for the one or two Pasifika audience members in the hopes of inspiring them, knowing that it won’t be of much interest to the wider audience and thus having to keep it short or vague.

Those feelings meant that when Lopesi received a message from poet and spoken-word performer Grace Iwashita-Taylor, she was very ready to receive it. Iwashita-Taylor was asking Lopesi to collaborate with her in establishing a festival to celebrate Moana writers and writing. And this weekend the inaugural Flying Fetu festival will take place.

Award-winning Samoan poet Grace Iwashita-Taylor. (Photo: RNZ Pacific)

Established this year, Flying Fetu is an organisation committed to building abundant futures for artists of upu (word), whether that’s through poetry or theatre. Their mission is to create spaces for budding Moana writers to unapologetically display their craft.

The festival, which begins tomorrow (Friday), is for anyone who’s interested, but in particular it’s a chance for writers from the Moana to get together without having to act “that certain way” of mainstream festivals. “All the shared stories that happen in the green room or after a show when you debrief with your friends, we want those discussions centre-stage during the Flying Fetu festival,” Lopesi says.

The opening night kicks off with a writers’ lab showcase where attendees get to listen to brand new works in development by 12 Moana writers including Jahra Wasasala, Nora Aati, Fetūolemoana Tamapeau, David Feauai-Afaese and Amber Esau. On Saturday, the schedule is filled with on-stage interviews, guest writers talking on certain topics and panel discussions. Each session will be recorded and available to listen to online beyond the festival and there will be giveaways throughout the event.

Amber Esau
Amber Esau is a poet, essayist and slam champion. (Photo: Supplied)

Iwashita-Taylor and Lopesi have spoken at and attended writers festivals both locally and abroad, and they brought that experience into shaping the Flying Fetu festival. “Most of the time, the audience are old, white people with maybe three Pasifika sisters in the corner of the room and I’ll get a question from a white person asking how we can help or fix the problems you’re going through as a brown writer and I’m like, answering that question is out of my paygrade,” Lopesi says. “We want our Moana writers to feel comfortable when sitting in these sessions and feel comfortable to ask questions, be curious and share their experiences with people who have walked that road.”

But that kind of discomfort is only part of the reason why the Flying Fetu festival is needed in Aotearoa. A lot of the time Pacific writers aren’t included at writers festivals at all. And, Lopesi adds, not all Pacific writers write books, which creates another barrier.

“There are a lot of brown writers, but the criteria for a writers festival is that you have to have published a book in the past year and so automatically our numbers shrink,” she says. “And often when we are included, it’s for these Pacific sessions and I struggle with that because you feel tokenised and there are all these conversations that you would really like to have, that you don’t get to have when it’s just Pacific writers in the room.”

Another reason for establishing the organisation and the festival is acknowledging the lonely path of the writer, where it’s often just yourself and your laptop. Lopesi explains that coming out of writing her book Bloody Woman, she realised that all the conversations she had during the writing process were actually bringing together missing pieces in the book. “If I didn’t have those conversations, the book wouldn’t have been made,” she says. “I know that everything I do is 100 times better when I’m able to talk through those ideas and build communities of writers and like-minded people, so I hope for the Flying Fetu festival to be that for our young and old writers from the Moana,” she says.

Faith Wilson from Saufo’i Press (Photo: Supplied)

Flying Fetu means shooting star, and Iwashita-Taylor and Lopesi wanted to create a collective that encompasses big dreams and blue-sky thinking. “Reaching for the stars is the aspiration we want for all Moana writers and to have it be our core, centre principle rather than using the word ‘writer’ in our name as it limits who we include,” says Lopesi. 

Saufo’i Press, which is an independent press that publishes Moana Pacific poetry in Aotearoa, is co-presenting one of the talanoa (talk) sessions called Fanua Feels – Moana Motions. The founder Faith Wilson says this opportunity is a chance for Moana writers to be in one space, to have something that’s ours. “It feels like finally we get to experience a writers festival that recognises the full breadth and scope of our artistry and who we are. We don’t need to shrink ourselves or fit moulds of what it is to be a writer or storyteller,” she says.

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Award-winning playwright Victor Rodger who has over 20 years of literary experience will be chairing a session at the Flying Fetu festival called The Naughty Corner. He also plans to attend most of the other sessions as a spectator. “I’m excited for this space where we can all gather together on our own terms, which has been a long time coming,” he says.

Flying Fetu festival opens Friday 4 November, 6:30pm – 8pm, at the Basement Theatre, Tāmaki Makaurau, with sessions all day Saturday 5 November.

This is Public Interest Journalism funded through NZ On Air.

Keep going!
Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)
Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)

OPINIONĀteaNovember 1, 2022

The alcohol licensing system has failed communities for years. It has to change

Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)
Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)

Responding to years of outcry, the government is planning an overhaul of the way liquor licences are granted. Emily Worman, Grant Hewison and the team at Communities Against Alcohol Harm explain why change is so desperately needed.

Mereana Peka is a respected Māori warden who has been working hard to reduce alcohol related harm in Tāmaki ki te Tonga (South Auckland) for decades. Like her mother before her, Mereana takes her duties concerning alcohol related harm, set out in the Māori Community Development Act of 1962, very seriously.

Across the country, the evidence is clear on the harm  alcohol does in the streets and in our homes. Put simply, it’s all about too much access to alcohol. The easier it is to get alcohol, the more harm we see or experience. That’s why Mereana is passionate about stopping the proliferation of alcohol outlets.

Since May 2021, the Turehou Māori Wardens ki Ōtara Charitable Trust has submitted 66 objections to alcohol licence applications and sat through five District Licensing Committee (DLC) hearings. How many times do you think those objections have been fully upheld by the DLC?

Only once.

With our support, Mereana successfully convinced the DLC that a new Thirsty Liquor on Bairds Road in Ōtara wasn’t a good idea. The fact that all three regulatory agencies also opposed a brand new liquor store in this location added significant weight to her opposition. What about the other 65 objections? Some are waiting in the system, a few have encouraged applicants to withdraw, and she has had some success with slightly stronger conditions imposed and variations withdrawn. The majority are approved.

Often, she has to fight being “struck out” as the alcohol industry lawyers argue she shouldn’t have the right to object at all. Currently, the Sale and Supply of Alcohol Act 2012 requires potential objectors to show that they have a greater interest in the liquor licence application than the public generally.

Members of Communities Against Alcohol Harm protesting outside a liquor store in Ōtara, July 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif)

Alcohol industry applicants, including the supermarkets, work hard to successfully strike out objectors on the basis that they live too far away or there is a main road between where they reside and the liquor outlet. Sometimes this leads potential objectors to withdraw. In having to provide their residential address, other objectors have been put off due to privacy concerns. Some objectors report being approached by applicants at their homes to discuss their objections instead of through the formal channels.

If it’s hard for individual members of the public to object, perhaps community groups will have better luck? Not likely. In February 2019, for example, the Gisborne-based Māori group Ka Pai Kaiti had their objection to a new liquor store struck out by the Alcohol Regulatory and Licensing Authority (ARLA) because they didn’t have standing, despite their deep connection to the local community. The same year, ARLA also concluded that our group, Communities Against Alcohol Harm, did not have a greater interest than the public generally. This ARLA decision means groups like us, who are motivated and organised, cannot object to liquor licence applications. Even local members of parliament, local councillors and local boards have had their objections challenged.

This is hard mahi and it wasn’t meant to be this way. The Sale and Supply of Alcohol Act had good intentions. It was written in a way that allowed the community voice to be heard. Miserably, due to the influence and role of the alcohol industry, what we have now is a highly litigious environment that inhibits community participation. This is largely due to the rights of cross-examination included in the act which allow lawyers to cross-examine objectors.

This is why we exist. CAAH navigates objectors through the process and we do everything we can to prepare them for hearings, and protect them during the hearing itself. We are a very small group of largely volunteers. Our heart is in South Auckland, we have a committed group in Ōtautahi, and we have supported objectors in Gisborne, Tokoroa, Hamilton, Southland and Northland to navigate these highly legalistic processes.

‘Like a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, each member is vital to the whole picture. Join today.’
Calum Henderson
— Production editor

We welcome justice minister Kiri Allen’s announcement that the government plans to change the law to make it easier to object to new liquor stores. We want to see more everyday people participating in this process. Their love for and knowledge of their own communities should not be tested by the alcohol industry.

In drafting the new legislation, minister Allan might like to look to the Resource Management Act 1991 for inspiration. That act includes a section requiring that hearings avoid unnecessary formality and recognise tikanga Māori; cross-examination of objectors is not permitted. These provisions were deliberately included to ensure RMA hearings are welcoming environments for community submitters.

We trust that local people understand their community the best. We are relieved to hear that the proposed changes to the act would remove the ability to appeal Local Alcohol Policies (LAPs), which allow local communities to decide on where and when alcohol is sold in their neighbourhood. The current appeals process is costing councils and ratepayers millions in legal fees, as alcohol companies and supermarkets have thwarted efforts by local communities and their councils to limit the sale of alcohol in their communities.

In Auckland, a provisional LAP has been in the appeal process for seven years, at a cost to the council of more than $1 million in legal fees. The matter is currently before the Supreme Court. There are similar stories in Wellington, Christchurch and Hamilton, where councils have abandoned their efforts to put in place LAPs after facing legal opposition from the supermarkets. Many councils, including the four largest authorities accounting for half of the total population, have halted or abandoned their efforts to implement LAPs.

This has increased the gap between community expectations for greater control over the availability of alcohol, and the legislation that was meant to achieve that.

The entrenched, powerful and extremely well-resourced alcohol industry (especially the supermarket duopoly) have fought tooth and nail to preserve and expand their alcohol licences so they can sell and supply more alcohol, including to very vulnerable communities. Right now, standing up to the alcohol industry is very much a David versus Goliath struggle for community objectors like Mereana. For us, change cannot come soon enough.


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