The fight at Rangiaowhia. (Image: Alexander Turnbull Library / Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1-W0475)
The fight at Rangiaowhia. (Image: Alexander Turnbull Library / Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1-W0475)

ĀteaJune 11, 2018

Learning (and not learning) about the New Zealand Wars

The fight at Rangiaowhia. (Image: Alexander Turnbull Library / Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1-W0475)
The fight at Rangiaowhia. (Image: Alexander Turnbull Library / Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1-W0475)

Historian Vincent O’Malley conducted his own survey over the weekend on what people did and didn’t learn about New Zealand history at school. The results, no matter how unscientific, still paint a clear picture.

By now many people know something of the story of the small-town petition from which big things grew. In December 2015 students from Otorohanga College and their supporters presented a petition signed by over 12,000 people to Parliament.

Some eight months later the government announced that a national day of commemoration for the New Zealand Wars would be established. Rā Maumahara was born.

Less well-known is that the Otorohanga College students had a second objective. They wanted the history of these conflicts to be taught in all schools. We are still waiting on that one.

The Ministry of Education strongly opposed this aspect of the petition in a 2016 submission to the Māori Affairs Committee, while admitting it had no idea how many students studied the New Zealand Wars.

Anecdotally, many people have told me they learned nothing of these wars. But I was curious to know more. So I took to social media. Last week I put up a Twitter poll with a simple question: Did you learn about the New Zealand Wars at school?

The response was phenomenal. 1484 people of all ages responded in the three days the poll was running, many leaving comments about their experiences of learning (or not learning) about the New Zealand Wars at school. They were thoughtful, frank, sometimes heart-warming and at others outright depressing.

This was Twitter, not a scientific survey. Individual memories can sometimes be unreliable. And it would be great to have known more about the ages, areas and ethnicities of those who answered. Even so, the number of responses allows for some general impressions.

Some people had incredible learning experiences. Many mentioned teachers who had been inspirational and sometimes ahead of their times. A common theme among these respondents was the power of field trips to the battle sites (a sentiment shared by the Otorohanga students, so shocked by what they learned on a site visit to Ōrākau and Rangiaowhia that they wondered why they hadn’t heard this history before and vowed to do something about it).

Others reported learning only a little about the wars at school or felt what they did learn was incomplete or wrong.

Many more people (61% of respondents according to the poll results) said they learned nothing about the New Zealand Wars at school.

As the Otorohanga College petition suggested, our rangatahi want to know this history. And as a nation it is important that we explore how this might best be achieved, not just for those lucky enough to have teachers and schools that support this kaupapa.

It is a call that history teachers are increasingly supporting. But given that only a minority of students opt for history from year 11 onwards, arguably this topic needs to be introduced earlier, probably as part of the social studies curriculum in years 9 or 10.

By all means debate the practicalities of how this might happen. But to me the principle is just common sense. We need to know, understand and own our history. The New Zealand Wars are a critically important part of that history that defines us as a nation.

This is our story, our history. It happened here, in this place, relatively recently in historical terms and it had profound consequences for what New Zealand was and would become.

When you have young people pleading to be taught the history of the wars fought here you know that it’s time older New Zealanders listened and paid heed. We might even learn something from them.

Dr Vincent O’Malley is the author of The Great War for New Zealand: Waikato, 1800-2000 (Bridget Williams Books).

 

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ĀteaJune 10, 2018

Cellfish: A play about love and prison

CellfishRehearsal_May2018_1204_DS8_1354

Jason Te Kare grew up watching his mum raise and love at-risk youths in their family home. The director of new prison-set play CELLFISH talks about learning how to live a compassionate life.

When playwright Miriama McDowell worked with inmates in a Christchurch prison, she was often asked to sneak in contraband. Not your typical cigarettes or cellphones, but kaimoana. All kinds of kaimoana.

So when she and co-writers Rob Mokaraka and Jason Te Kare needed a new name for their prison-set play (because the original ‘Lucky Fucken Me’ didn’t quite work on funding applications) they were inspired by the inmates of Paparua. They settled on calling it CELLFISH.

The play is about the tough truths of incarceration. It challenges the familial cycles of domestic violence and the systemic failings of a highly punitive justice system. Giving agency to the voiceless, it is offset with wicked humour.

Set in the present day, CELLFISH focuses on a fiercely determined woman whose relationship with prison is in teaching inmates Shakespeare. Shapeshifting through seven characters, actors Jarod Rawiri (Shortland Street) and Carrie Green (Bless the Child) embody teachers, inmates and super heroes, with a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dance thrown in for good mix.

“We’re taking a real heavy subject and investigating it with a bit of lightness, humour and charm,” says co-writer and director Jason Te Kare. “This approach allows audiences to listen more. They are charmed by the characters and see them as people instead of the crimes they have committed.

“Two actors play all the characters in the prison. Part of the magic is seeing the pair create a whole world with very limited help. There are no props or costume changes. Using the audience’s imagination, they tell the whole story while never leaving the stage. That is the power of theatre.”

Te Kare has enjoyed a long career exploring the different facets of theatre.

He spent a decade as the drama producer at Radio NZ, worked for youth focussed music and arts facility Te Oro in his childhood neighbourhood Glen Innes, is artistic director for Theatre of Auckland and is Silo Theatre’s current artistic associate. He has been on, off and, to the side of stage since his early years.

Performance came naturally to the young boy with Tainui and Ngāti Maniapoto roots. His first experience was in the rows of his school kapa haka group. Te Kare learnt stage presence and had great rhythm, but his best memory was learning that he was Māori.

Director Jason Te Kare with CELLFISH actors Carrie Green and Jarod Rawiri. Image: David St. George

In a school where the Pacific Island kids would proudly identify as Tongan, Niuean, Samoan, Te Kare wasn’t sure what to answer when they would ask what ethnicity he was. Back then, he thought everyone was the same.

“One night mum told me my whakapapa. The next day I walked around telling everyone “I’m a Māori!” he laughs, as he recalls the moment.

He eventually progressed into acting and as a teen partook in the Ngā Moemoeā a te Rangatahi drama programme doing skits about Māori health. While his interest was influenced more by the fact it included overnight stays at Queen Victoria Māori Girls’ School, he went on to join the early roots of what is now Massive Company, alongside the likes of Oliver Driver and Tamati Patuwai.

“I definitely prefer the directing chair,” he admits. “I equate it to being a first five in rugby – you get to have a lot more say in implementing the game plan.”

He is pretty good at it too, winning Most Promising Newcomer and Director of the Year at the 2011 Wellington Theatre awards for his mainstage directing debut with I, George Nepia.

In CELLFISH, real life experiences underpin and inform the storytelling. For Te Kare, he drew on his childhood in Glenn Innes where his mum, social worker and community champion Barbara Te Kare (Nanny Barb), housed at-risk youth in their family home.

It started when a cousin, who was meant to be looking after the home, had a house party. Nanny Barb caught wind, came back and kicked everyone out. There was a group of youths who were living on the streets and didn’t have anywhere else to go. She invited them to stay with one rule: go to school or get a job. Te Kare was aged seven.

“It was a very colourful childhood. I remember watching the Queen St riots on TV and seeing some of the kids from the house on the news, throwing rocks and charging police,” he laughs. “I never saw them as naughty kids. They were complex, charming, sometimes volatile. In that environment I experienced first-hand the way a young person’s perspective on life can become skewed, so crime and violence are idolised.”

Their home was formalised into a social welfare halfway house, then a home for CYFS kids. It was here he realised how potent and life changing parental and whānau love could be. And how quickly society could judge those affected by the inter-generational cycle of violence.

It is something he hopes audiences will reflect on when coming to view the show, in amongst the fits of laughter.

“Crime is something every society has to deal with, but how we deal with it is the question. This is a war and the thing that seems to be killed first is compassion. Those of us who have not been brought up in environments of abuse, those who have had loving, caring upbringings, need to be the ones who show compassion first.

“Through the lighthearted way we approach the themes in this show we have tried to remind those with really judgemental ideas of inmates, of people who have committed crimes, that sure they have done some bad things but in the end they are still people. Just like the rest of us. ”


CELLFISH runs from Tuesday 13 June to Sunday 24 June as part of Silo Theatres 2018 season, playing at Q Theatre. Click here for more info.

Ātea