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ĀteaOctober 29, 2019

Marcus Lush is on the right side of history. Mangling Māori names is no longer ‘the way it is’

Image: Youtube
Image: Youtube

Calls to Marcus Lush’s Newstalk ZB show defending the incorrect pronunciation of Māori place names in Otago have been captured and shared by angry listeners. Should we despair at the callers’ attitudes, or celebrate the popular response, asks Māori Language Commissioner Rawinia Higgins

It’s the way it is.

These are the words a caller to Newstalk ZB used to defend her right to mispronounce the Māori names of the places she grew up in during an extraordinary exchange with broadcaster Marcus Lush.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-b3PxXtSEE

The truth is that “the way it is” has been changing for years.

Generations of Māori New Zealanders who were determined to change “the way it is” is how the Māori Language Commission came to be. In 1985 a Treaty claim successfully called for te reo to be made an official language in its own land and after a Waitangi Tribunal recommendation, Te Taura Whiri i te Reo Māori was born.

The mammoth challenge facing the first Māori language commissioner and his staff was promoting a language where only decades earlier, schoolchildren had been beaten for speaking it out loud and assigned new names that were more acceptable to English speakers. It was a time when te reo was barely heard on our radios and televisions or seen in our newspapers. Editorials argued that making Māori an official language would divide us.

Thirty years later, they have been proven wrong because te reo brings us together. Māori Language Week 2019 saw tens of thousands marching in seven parades across Aotearoa, millions engaged with us online and hundreds of initiatives were celebrated nationwide. Our prime minister told the nation that te reo is part of our identity as New Zealanders.

Marcus Lush is on the right side of history, and on the side of the historic revitalisation of te reo Māori we see around us. I would like to pay tribute to him and other non-Māori influencers – people like broadcaster Guyon Espiner, Governor General Dame Patsy Reddy (two of our Māori Language Week Ambassadors for 2019), Race Relations Commissioner Meng Foon, presenter Jack Tame and actor Jennifer Ward-Lealand – who are helping to shift attitudes. Te reo brings us together as New Zealanders, whatever our background. And our common effort to learn a little and use a little, to learn more and use more is how we start.

At one time a bank occupied the ground floor of the building where the commission is based and one day, the then Māori Language Commissioner was waiting in line when he began speaking with the man behind him, a Waitangi Tribunal member and revered scholar. A bank teller shouted at the men and told them to speak English or go somewhere else. The men did go somewhere else: they went to complain to her manager. 

When it comes to attitudes to te reo Māori, while the centre of gravity has changed since the 1980s, some attitudes have stayed the same.

The reality is that colonisation did not just affect Māori New Zealanders, it affected everyone. Those callers to Newstalk ZB may have grown up in a world where Māori language and culture wasn’t valued by New Zealanders: but that world has gone forever and it’s not coming back. They are victims of an education and social system that taught them it was more important to learn how to pronounce the name of a cheese from northern France than the name of their own town. 

The caller was quite right to say that these were the pronunciations she grew up with. But that does not make those pronunciations the best choice. While we can’t ever get our voices entirely away from the way we were brought up, we have a choice.

https://twitter.com/Kingi187/status/1187804739842367488?s=20

Some argue that pensioners are too old to learn how to change but that’s not true for everyone (even though the infamous ZB caller was only 43). My friend’s 75-year-old migrant mum recently signed up to learn te reo at a community course in Wellington. A retirement home in Auckland has seen mostly Pākehā elders learning Māori, while kaumatua in Wairarapa are learning to speak their own reo for the first time. The future for te reo Māori looks bright and it’s not just our young ones leading the charge.

A country where we deliberately mispronounce Māori words because they’re Māori words, or where we reprimand people for speaking Māori, is not “the way it is”. It is the way we were. And it is not the way we are heading.

Kia kaha te reo Māori!

Keep going!
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ĀteaOctober 28, 2019

Innocent until proven guilty? Not if you’re Māori, poor or homeless

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Like other parts of the criminal justice system, bias in New Zealand’s remand system continues to discriminate against Māori.

Many of us take for granted that if we are ever accused of a crime, we will be treated as if we are innocent until proven guilty. This idea is such a cornerstone of our democracy and justice system that it is enshrined the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act.

This principle has come under sustained attack from far-right lobby groups such as the Sensible Sentencing Trust, with major changes to our bail laws over the last 10 years that have undermined the presumption of innocence.

As a result, the justice system has reached a tipping point. Data released to me under the Official Information Act shows that in 2018, for the first time on record, the majority of people remanded in custody were not sentenced to imprisonment. This is ground-breaking and extremely concerning.

To many New Zealanders the link between remand and the presumption of innocence may not be necessarily clear. Let me explain. When a person has been accused of a crime and comes before a judge, that judge must decide if the person will be released to their community or held in prison awaiting trial or sentencing. The judge either remands them in custody or bails them into their community, usually with some conditions.

In other words, when someone is remanded in custody, they have either not been found guilty of any offence, or they haven’t been sentenced to imprisonment. This means that, according to the data given to me, 50.1% of people who were locked up in prison before they were sentenced were not ultimately sentenced to prison.

So why is this a breach of the presumption of innocence? Quite simply, remand is an extreme form of punishment. Anyone who’s been in prison knows that remand is the most dangerous part of a prison lag. As shown by the “Fight Club” revelations at Mt Eden (remand) Prison, as well as in numerous reports by the Office of the Ombudsman, people on remand are the most likely to be violently victimised. They also often don’t have access to programmes, education, or work, and are much more likely to be placed in solitary confinement. Most concerningly, people in prison are most likely to take their own lives while they are remanded in custody, at a rate that outstrips almost any other group in society. All of this means that remand is a harsh form of punishment on people who are supposed to be presumed innocent.

The fact that more than half of people remanded in custody are not convicted of any crime or sentenced to imprisonment is a profound injustice that undermines a fundamental principle of our democracy.

As with basically all issues in the New Zealand criminal justice system, Māori experience this injustice at a disproportionate rate. Other data released to me shows that, in 2018, Māori made up 54% of the people who were remanded in custody but against whom there was no “proved outcome”. That same year, 3093 Māori people were locked up even though it was decided there was not enough proof that they had committed the alleged offence.

This is not a matter of a small number of innocent people being swept into a punishing prison system as an unfortunate side effect of an otherwise well-functioning bail system. Thousands of innocent people are being imprisoned every year because of our racist bail laws. When more than half of the people remanded in custody are not convicted or sentenced to imprisonment, it represents not only a broken system but a crisis in our democracy.

This system didn’t just emerge organically. It was designed to work this way. In particular, the ever-expanding remand population has been caused by changes to bail laws in 2013. Following the murder of Christie Marceau in 2011, the ultra-conservative Sensible Sentencing Trust used the case to push for changes to bail laws it wanted. For the Trust, it was the perfect opportunity: a blonde, white woman was brutally murdered by a man of colour. The New Zealand media lapped this up, stoking the fires of the tough-on-crime rhetoric. In a frenzy of political opportunism, Parliament passed an amendment to the bail laws in 2013 which was supported by National, Labour, NZ First, ACT and United Future. However, based on the findings of the Coroner’s Inquest into Marceau’s murder, the Bail Amendment Act would not have prevented Christie’s death.

Instead, it has led to a rapid expansion in the prison population, at a time that the government was expecting prison numbers to decrease. Since the changes came into effect, the overall remand population has increased by 122.1%. This has disproportionately affected Māori with 55% of the total growth in prison numbers coming from Māori. At the same time, the number of women in remanded in custody has increased by 232.6%.

Importantly, this rapid increase in the number of people remanded in custody isn’t because there are suddenly many more violent people in our society. It is simply because parliament decided to make it harder for people to get released into their communities while on trial or awaiting sentencing. As JustSpeak’s 2017 report outlines, the law changes, alongside the housing crisis, mean that homeless people and people in insecure housing have been thrown in prison simply because they don’t have a permanent address.

This problem is only getting worse. The corrections minister has made some attempts to reduce the remand population, such as ensuring that people who are functionally illiterate have someone to help them to fill out forms. As a result, in 2018 the prison population briefly fell slightly. However, when the injustice of our bail laws is written into legislation and case law, tinkering around the edges can never be enough.

The fact is, our parliament passed legislation that fundamentally undermined our rights to being considered innocent until proven guilty. It has led to an explosion of the prison population that has disproportionately affected Māori and poor people. Our parliament also laid the foundation for the racist, systematic, and widespread punishment of innocent people through remand in custody. When denial of the basic right to presumption of innocence is baked into a fundamentally unjust system, a complete transformation of our system is required. This will only happen when New Zealanders choose to reject the politics of tough-on-crime and demand a justice system that is fair, equitable, and that actually works. When a fundamental principle of our democracy is at stake, we can’t just leave it to the politicians.

Ti Lamusse is a PhD Candidate in Sociology at the University of Auckland, studying the New Zealand Criminal Justice System.