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The Matariki collectors’ issue of Woman. (Image: Woman/School Road Publishing)
The Matariki collectors’ issue of Woman. (Image: Woman/School Road Publishing)

ĀteaJune 25, 2021

My stars of Matariki are wāhine Māori

The Matariki collectors’ issue of Woman. (Image: Woman/School Road Publishing)
The Matariki collectors’ issue of Woman. (Image: Woman/School Road Publishing)

Writer Sarah Sparks on feeling inspired by nine stars of Matariki – namely the wāhine Māori that feature on the cover of a new issue of Woman magazine.

I would like to imagine that the Matariki cover of Woman magazine, out this week, has set a precedent for the industry. When have you ever seen a collective of wāhine Māori in a gate-fold front page on a mainstream consumer title?

Like, never.

That constellation of nine captured with such splendour by Taaniko and Vienna Nordstrom of Soldiers Rd epitomises tino rangatiratanga – each of those women has forged her own path in a uniquely wahine Māori way, from the venerated author Patricia Grace to rising star Te Ao o Hinepehinga Rauna. They say a picture speaks a thousand words. Well, for me that cover unlocked a thousand wāhine Māori… tūpuna and uri, voices of the past, the present and the future intertwined. Our indigenous sisterhood visible and valued. It sure blows the usual women’s mag formula to smithereens.

I’m sure we all have our own war stories of how certain media makes us feel, as women or as Māori. Our media is guilty of casting spells that harm us by typecasting women, or sidelining diversity until it’s no longer expedient to do so. Historically, popular women’s titles here haven’t excluded wāhine Māori and Pasifika, but neither have they been champions for our cultures.

But this layout well and truly breaks that “one-size-fits-all, one-world-view-serves all” homogenous depiction of New Zealand women. My hope for this collectors’ issue is that it offers the potential to shift limiting unspoken and unseen boundaries of belief. Those handbrakes of uncertainty that hijack impulses to bust out and dare to do, to think, and to be different.

Matariki is about honouring those souls since passed, embracing the new and releasing the old. The principles of rebirth are nothing new to Woman, which was born from the ashes of Covid 19’s destruction of the Bauer stable of magazines. Former Woman’s Day and NZ Woman’s Weekly editor Sido Kitchin was approached to galvanise a team producing diverse and inclusive content. Broadcaster Stacey Morrison has been there since day one enlightening readers with her te reo Māori column, and stands shoulder to shoulder with Kitchin as co-editor of this issue.

Māori stories curated by two editors in the true spirit of a Te Tiriti partnership – how fresh and equitable. Now if only we can achieve a similar outcome in certain policy design at government level.

All power to this and long may other media (let alone the private and public sector) be inspired to adopt similar practices alongside tangata whenua.

As the saying goes, where you place your energy is what you value the most.

The resourcing by a self-made, indie publisher is a message of real kaha. It has synchronicity with the news cycle, too, given what has been unfolding politically, socially, culturally, economically and environmentally in Aotearoa recently.

And wāhine Māori and highly respected kuia like “the dames” (Dame Naida Glavish, Dame Tariana Turia, Dame Iritana Tāwhiwhirangi, and Dame Areta Koopu) have been right in the middle of the cut and thrust of it.

In these times of He Puapua, when our nation and the world is grappling with how to honour indigenous human rights with integrity, who were the constitutional scholars behind that powerhouse piece of commissioned research responding to the United Nations declaration? Wāhine Māori.

Who has boldly challenged the government ad infinitum to take its hands off our tamariki and sort out Oranga Tamariki? Wāhine Māori.

Who has been calling out health inequity (one was even touted as having a 10-1 chance of being the next governor general), litigating reductions in Whānau Ora funding and lodging significant claims in the Waitangi Tribunal that paved the way for the emerging framework of a Māori Health Authority? Wāhine Māori.

Who led the charge at Ihumātao to protect and preserve the whenua to uphold its spirituality, culture and history? Wāhine Māori.

Who has been pushing back against the Ministry of Culture and Heritage for its highly unpopular selection of Mataharehare Pā site for the National Erebus Memorial that risks harming a sacred pōhutukawa as old as Te Tiriti? Wāhine Māori.

What does all this have in common with a glossy like Woman? The parallels are centred on principles. Those little things are also big things that matter.

As the whakataukī says, “Me aro koe ki te hā o Hineahuone” – pay homage to the essence of womankind.

The magazine intuitively picked the right time to celebrate in such a substantial fashion the mana of wahine Māori in word, action and deed.

It mirrors the power of how they are spreading light on environmental advocacy, cultural preservation and improving health and social services around the globe.

Our perceptions can form our reality, and for many, media have a direct influence and impact on that. So, thank you Woman for sprinkling the stardust while elevating the standard.

Yet as we all stargaze, let’s dream of even higher aspirations.

With the demise of Mana magazine four years ago, it’s no longer the norm to see beautiful Māori faces in an explicitly Māori context staring back from the magazine stands, so who can blame me for wanting more now I’ve had another taste? Would the masthead ever become Wahine, perhaps timed to honour Te Wiki o te Reo Māori? Or decide that half the quota of annual covers would showcase only wāhine Māori to inspire us all? What about scholarships and mentoring to attract more wāhine Māori writers and creatives into its workforce? How about a publishing mandate (à la Stuff’s Ta mātou pono) that’s an enduring commitment to content that is unabashedly Māori in storytelling, design, and mātauranga? And weaving in music, art, poetry, fashion and photography from a te ao Māori perspective that showcases the next generation of young up-and-coming creatives?

While we look up at the heavens trying to map out Te Iwa o Matariki, Matariki, Tupuārangi, Waitī, Tupuānuku, Ururangi, Waitā, Waipuna-ā-Rangi, Pōhutukawa and Hiwa-i-te-Rangi, let’s take a moment to reflect with respect the special wisdom and beauty of our own taonga on the ground – our wāhine Māori – who are collectively advancing and taking us with them.

Keep going!
Eight former Māori MPs from season two of Matangireia. (Image: Aotearoa Media Collective/RNZ)
Eight former Māori MPs from season two of Matangireia. (Image: Aotearoa Media Collective/RNZ)

ĀteaJune 23, 2021

Eight incredible moments from the new series of Matangireia

Eight former Māori MPs from season two of Matangireia. (Image: Aotearoa Media Collective/RNZ)
Eight former Māori MPs from season two of Matangireia. (Image: Aotearoa Media Collective/RNZ)

Heartbreak, scandal and intrigue are never far away in the new conversations with former Māori MPs. Leonie Hayden points to the highlights. 

Maybe it’s only ever possible to see the true humanity of politicians once they’ve left politics. Take away the campaigning, the party lines, the spin and the relentlessness of the job, and you’re left with relatively normal but still complex human beings that think and feel much like you and me.

In the second series of Matangireia, named for the carved Māori Affairs Committee room at Parliament House, eight former Māori politicians talk about their time in parliament and their respective legacies in depth. Produced by Aotearoa Media Collective for RNZ, three hosts share interviewing duties – Mihingarangi Forbes, Scott Campbell and Maiki Sherman – and although each is (or was, in Campbell’s case) a formidable journalist in their own right, they’re not there so much to challenge, but to prompt and let their subjects tell their stories.

As in season one, they discuss their childhoods, their triumphs and their darkest days, and reveal hitherto unknown parts about life in our nation’s seat of power. It makes for fascinating and sometime heartbreaking watching. Here are some of the most interesting revelations.

Hone Harawira couldn’t get on the dole after he left the Māori Party

Harawira was a founding member of the Māori Party, which formed in 2004 in the days following the 50,000-strong protest march against Helen Clarke’s Foreshore and Seabed Act. In 2011, he left the Māori Party after a disciplinary hearing proposed he be kicked out, and formed the Mana Movement. Harawira says he has no regrets about joining or leaving the Māori Party ,or starting his Mana Movement, but revealed that after his MP salary was stopped, he was unable to go on a benefit. He says the entire time he was campaigning for Mana, for which he won the Te Tai Tokerau seat in 2011, he had no income of any kind.

Paula Bennett told a roomful of iwi leaders how many children from each iwi were in state care, and then said it was their doing

In one of the most ballsy moves on record, Bennett reveals to interviewer Maiki Sherman that as a way of addressing the number of tamariki Māori in state care in her role as minister for child, youth and family, she went to a hui at Tūrangawaewae in Waikato, and told the room, iwi by iwi, how many children had been taken from their families by the state. Like a wolf demanding that lambs explain why they continue to be eaten by wolves, she then asked why they had let that happen. After a period of shocked silence, Bennett was, unsurprisingly, asked to leave. Even more shockingly, in her recollection of the incident, Bennett doesn’t seem at all aware of the offensiveness of the action (and even recalls an ashen-faced, trembling aide telling her it was going to go very badly), and says she believes it contributed “in a small way” to positive changes for child welfare in this country. Credit (or an Oscar) goes to Sherman, whose horrified reaction registers for only a millisecond before regaining her professional, serious interviewer face.

Te Ururoa Flavell became depressed after the Māori Party was voted out

In one of the saddest moments of the series, a clearly still traumatised Flavell describes how much he struggled during his three terms in parliament, admitting that he “wanted to go home after a year”. If he struggled in parliament, it seems it was nothing compared to the distress and depression that followed when the Māori Party were voted out in 2017. He says the night of the election “destroyed him”.

“I felt our people had let us down, after all the work that we’d done.” The most heartbreaking part comes when he’s asked what he hopes his mokopuna will see when they look back on his legacy. Breaking down into tears, he replies: “That their pāpā did the best by his people.”

Denise Roche really hates John Key

When John Key accused Labour of backing “rapists” detained by Australia on Christmas Island, Roche and a group of women MPs, all survivors of sexual abuse, staged a walkout in protest. They demanded an apology but it never came. Roche’s one word to describe the former prime minister? “Prick.”

Ron Mark was employed in the private army of the Sultan of Oman

As one-time minister for defence, Ron Mark’s armed forces background is known to many, as is his reputation as a loyal, stand up guy. Mark revealed that a turning point in his army career had come after he had nearly been dishonourably discharged for hospitalising someone in a pub fight. Rising quickly through the ranks after that, some years later, he was blocked from entering SAS training so decided to take a job in the Sultan of Oman’s armed forces. A year on, he entered the special forces where he worked on the Yemen border for four years. Another fascinating revelation: his full name is Rongowhitiao Maaka.

Former NZ First MP Ron Mark in the Sultan of Oman’s armed forces (Image: Aotearoa Media Collective/RNZ)

Dover Samuels regrets not giving Richard Prebble an ‘uppercut’ 

Only a year after taking up the Māori Affairs portfolio, Dover Samuels was stood down from his post after historic sexual abuse allegations were made by the mother of an alleged victim. He was cleared of the allegations after a criminal investigation but was dismissed by prime minister Helen Clarke anyway, after other charges on his police record came to light. Today Samuels says that then-Act leader Richard Prebble was the “architect” of the campaign to get rid of him, and he wishes he’d socked him between the eyes.

https://youtu.be/Zt8wCgPP5tI

Harete Hipango was assaulted by police while working as a lawyer in Whanganui

As a young criminal defence lawyer, Hipango found herself standing alongside whānau at the occupation of Moutoa Gardens Pakaitore in Whanganui, while also working in the courts, where she defended family members after arrests during the protest. She says as a result she was treated appallingly by judges, police and other court staff. Hipango tells the story of entering the courts with a Pākehā colleague, and a police officer giving the command for her to be stopped and searched. She says two officers restrained her while another patted her down, and then she was slammed into a wall, before being “frog marched” and forcibly thrown out of the courts, her place of employment.

At the time of filming, Hipango had lost her seat in Whanganui, but this week she reentered parliament following the abrupt departure of Nick Smith.

Georgina Beyer never made it into Helen Clark’s orbit

For someone whose past is more colourful than all other parliamentarians put together, Georgina Beyer, the world’s first transgender MP, has the least to reveal. Her days as a sex worker and the abuse she suffered is well documented, as are her former lives as a drag queen, an actress and a mayor. She says of her time in parliament as a Labour MP, the foreshore and seabed act was the beginning of the end – describing it as a “nightmare” and a “disaster”. Beyer explained that she had never been close to prime minister Helen Clark (“I was not within her inner, outer, or extra-outer circle, really. I was just a cannon fodder backbench MP”) but after Beyer asked to abstain from the vote on the foreshore and seabad legislation, her request was rejected and Clark’s demeanour towards her became even more frosty. “I vowed and declared from that time on that I would never be torn between who and what I am as far as my heritage is concerned, and political expediency.”

Watch series one and two of Matangireia, made by Aotearoa Media Collective for RNZ.