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PoliticsSeptember 18, 2017

Baemian Light: A date with the new leader of United Future

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In the 36 Questions Project, Meg Williams takes a politician on a date and asks them the 36 Questions, a series of conversation starters designed to make two people fall in love. In this episode, Williams meets brand new United Future leader, 33-year-old Damian Light, for Japanese food.

Previously on the 36 Questions Project: The Opportunities Party leader Gareth Morgan, Māori Party co-leader Marama Fox, Act Party leader David Seymour, and the 36 Questions in full

Damian Light doesn’t take himself too seriously. He seems a little bit nervous, understandable given his very quick rise to the leader of United Future (and what I’m about to put him through).

“Well, I’ve always wanted to go into space,” Damian, he tells me. “But obviously I haven’t done that because that’s kind of crazy.”

In the few debates he’s appeared in so far, it’s been difficult to get a sense of Damian. He thinks on his feet, easily able to respond well to policy questions, never faltering or coming up empty. Damian is very much the new kid on the block — I’ve dated a few politicians now, and Damian is not your average politician.

In person, I discovered, he shows genuine interest in what you have to say. He smiles and laughs a lot. It’s very endearing. Basically Damian Light’s personality is as lovely as his face, and I had a great time on our date.

“Oh, so you’re a bit of a space nerd?” I asked. We’d got to Question 15 which asks, “Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?”

“Yeah,” he said. I told Damian that I have recently started rewatching Star Trek: The Next Generation. “That was the first science fiction I watched,” Damian said. “I kind of grew up with it in the early 90s. Every Friday night at 7:30, or whatever time it was, I used to go home and watch it. I remember sometimes when my mum and dad were like, ‘No, we’re going down the beach to get fish and chips,’ and I would just go ballistic, like have a massive tantrum, because I was missing the second episode of a cliffhanger, and this was before VCRs and internet so I couldn’t record it, and it was just devastating.”

I knew then that this date had potential.

We had arranged to meet at 7pm at a Japanese place in Epsom. A few hours before, I got a message. Hey Meg, can I give you a quick call? 

Here we go, I thought to myself. I was preparing to be cancelled on. In fact he was apologetically asking if we’d be able to push the interview back to 7:30pm — only half an hour later than originally planned. Such a polite date! I exhaled and told him this was fine, mostly relieved at the extra time I’d have to get ready.

Meg Williams’ not at all OTT day-of-date Snapchat

Damian is a regular at Sakebar Nippon, he tells me when we arrive at the Epsom restaurant. I can tell from the first moment he smiles and shakes my hand that this is someone who likes people.

The 36 Questions are designed to quickly establish familiarity, and every answer Damian gave only made me like him more. He told me he still had his teddy bear from when he was a child, and that it’s named “Teddy.” He told me about his imaginary friend from when he was little. “I very imaginatively called him ‘Friend’. Because he was my imaginary friend! My parents would ask, ‘what’s his name?’ ‘Friend! What else would he be called? He’s my friend! You weirdos.’”

Question 29 asks the subjects to share with each other an embarrassing moment. “I was away for work,” he answers. “And I was supposed to be meeting this guy for breakfast. And I got up in the morning – and I’m not a morning person – I got up, got ready, went down to the restaurant, sat at the table and said, ‘Hi, how’re you doing?’ And he was like, ‘Hi.’ I’m like, ‘How’re you going?’ And he’s just like, ‘Hi.’ And I was just like, ‘This is a bit weird, he’s acting really weird about this.’ And I look over, and he’s sitting over there – it was the wrong guy! He looked kind of similar, but he didn’t look that similar. The guy I was supposed to be meeting, and one of my other work mates, were sitting there and they were looking at me and I was like, ‘I’m so sorry.’ The guy was completely fine with it.”

Next I ask him to complete the sentence: “I wish I had someone with whom I could share …” Damian struggled with this one.

“I was going to say ‘the rest of my life with,’ but I’ve kind of already got that,” he said. Damian has been with his partner, Josh, for almost a year now, and lights up when he gets the chance to talk about him. “I’m quite lucky with my partner. He was a little bit interested in politics but not hugely, and there’s other stuff that I’m interested in and vice versa, but we’re quite good at being able to support each other, being enthusiastic for the other person even though it’s not necessarily our thing, which his kind of a new experience for me.”

“Where’d you guys meet?” I asked.

“Online,” said Damian, without a hint of shame because a) this is the 21st century, b) we’re Millennials, and c) online dating is normal now. Also without a hint of shame, I told Damian I met my partner of three years on Tinder. “It’s how you do it now, right?” said Damian. “I’m not ashamed of it, it’s how you do it. People go, ‘But how do you get to know someone?’ But actually in some ways it’s much better because… you can be quite honest, and then it kind of builds from there… And if it goes horribly wrong, you haven’t really embarrassed yourself in front of a whole lot of people or anything… If you do it properly, I find it’s — I don’t know if ‘easier’ is the word, but yeah.”

We had been together for just over an hour and a half at this point, our plates and empty sake cups cleared away, and so I let Damian know that if he needed to rush off or if the questions were becoming too personal he could just let me know. But Damian is an extremely good sport, so we kept going.

“If you were going to become a close friend with your partner,” I said, continuing with the 36 Questions (‘partner’ in this context means the person you’re completing the exercise with), “please share what would be important for him or her to know.”

“That I have a terrible sense of humour is probably something you’d have to put up with,” said Damian, laughing. “Like I think puns are really funny… My friends all have a terrible sense of humour so it’s kind of okay.”

“It’s a subjective thing, right?” I said.

“Yeah well it is, right?” said Damian. “But it’s pretty bad.”

“Objectively bad?”

“Yeah.”

The end of the night came around and, having gone through all of the questions (skipping the part where we have to look into each other’s eyes for four minutes), we decided to call it a night. While we waited for our separate Ubers, Damian told me that he’d be keen to catch up again after the election.

“Yeah,” I said. “That’d be cool.”

We hugged goodbye and I got into my Uber. As I was driven away, a notification from Twitter appeared on my phone: @damianlight followed you back!

I smiled. Something something the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Previously on the 36 Questions Project: The Opportunities Party leader Gareth Morgan, Māori Party co-leader Marama Fox, Act Party leader David Seymour, and the 36 Questions in full

Keep going!
KIRI ALLAN CASTING AN EARLY VOTE WITH HER TEAM (PHOTO: THE BEACON)
KIRI ALLAN CASTING AN EARLY VOTE WITH HER TEAM (PHOTO: THE BEACON)

PoliticsSeptember 18, 2017

Labour’s Kiri Allan on going into #labour4Labour

KIRI ALLAN CASTING AN EARLY VOTE WITH HER TEAM (PHOTO: THE BEACON)
KIRI ALLAN CASTING AN EARLY VOTE WITH HER TEAM (PHOTO: THE BEACON)

Five days out from the election, Kiri Allan writes about being both a first-time candidate and first-time mum in the latest instalment of her campaign diary.


Read more candidate diaries for the Spinoff here


It’s been about 17 days since I’ve had a good night’s sleep. Well, actually, perhaps a little longer than that. But given I decided this year was the right time to mount a political campaign for the first time, I thought, why let all the ‘first-time’ fun end there? So, we decided to have a baby – at the same time.

On 29 August, I was supposed to host New Zealand’s next prime minister, Jacinda Ardern, in Gisborne. Instead, I had to text Jacinda at 5am saying that while I wanted to make a really good impression on my new boss, I was going to have to stand her up as my future ‘boss’ had decided to come into the world that day.  Our wee bundle, Hiwa-i-te-rangi, emerged at 11pm that evening, commencing a journey of immense joy – and sleepless nights.

For a family that is relatively focused on planning, some might think this was ridiculously bad timing. They are probably right. No, actually, they are completely right. But, it seems to be in Labour’s water! Going into #labour4Labour must be a thing, because first time candidates Heather Warren and Sarb Johal have both recently had newborns in the past six weeks, and Northland candidate Willow-Jean and Kris Faafoi, MP for the Mana electorate, also recently welcomed new additions to their growing families during this election campaign.

I guess that’s one thing I’ve quickly discovered over the course of this campaign: all of us running are just ordinary folk, doing ordinary things, who care about where our country is headed immensely. That seems to be part and parcel of being in Labour.

KIRI ALLAN WITH HER NEWBORN (PHOTO: SUPPLIED)

Having a newborn changes the campaign game a bit. Well, a lot actually. In the first week after she was born, I had to go away for four nights. It was the toughest time I’ve had on the campaign. While Snapchat, Viber and Facetime are useful tools, there’s nothing like cuddles with that soft little face squished into yours, or undertaking your share of the parenting duties and relieving the other parent for nappy changes during the long nights. Being the family that we are, we try to do it all. At eight days old, baby attended her first political meeting, a First Union Rūnanga and Fono meeting (with cuddles from Uncles Robert Reid and Syd Keepa), followed by a day of meetings throughout Kawerau. She certainly got her fair share of attention, and I had a bigger spring in my step looking at her knowing that the New Zealand our team was standing up for was the one I wanted to bring my girl up in.

We named our taonga Hiwa-i-te-rangi, the youngest star of Matariki (the Māori new year constellation cluster that appears in July/August). It is the star people would look to and throw forth their dreams and aspirations for the year ahead.  A star to hang your dreams on, some might say. Her name captures where our family is at perfectly – it is time for our generation to throw forth our aspirations for a better world for our families and communities, and that is by and large why I have put my hand up for Labour in this year’s election. The advent of Jacinda as our leader has made that aspiration more and more like a real chance of being a reality, and I am immensely proud of the team that is pushing for change; from our leaders and members of parliament to our grassroots volunteers. It feels like we are on the precipice of change.

The past few weeks have comprised of (alongside the sleepless nights) candidate debates from Kawerau to Gisborne. Only one debate actually had all of the six candidates vying for the honour of representing the East Coast. One aspect of New Zealand’s democracy that I really value is that fact that it is accessible – and politicians should be able to be held accountable to their constituents in person. So these debates, hosted by community groups throughout the electorate, are an important part of the campaign for candidates to hear our communities’ concerns, aspirations, and challenges. Regardless of whether we are in government, opposition, or not yet in parliament, I hope that all of us seeking the trust and confidence of our electorate continue the long-standing tradition of being transparent and accountable to our voters – and showing up to public debates is an important part of that.

KIRI ALLAN CASTING AN EARLY VOTE WITH HER TEAM (PHOTO: THE BEACON)

This past week, early voting commenced and it was Te Wiki o Te Reo. With baby’s arrival comes transforming our house into a primarily te reo Māori environment and realising this is absolutely the learning environment we want for our little one at home. I heard Stacey Morrison say recently that Sir Tīmoti Karetū had once said to her and her husband, Scotty Morrison, that “te mauri o te reo, ki te kainga” (the life force of the Māori language is in the home). This was a lightning bolt for us – we both speak te reo to varying degrees, and yet we had not been good at all at speaking te reo in our home. So we reaffirmed our commitment to te reo Māori this week, and I acknowledge all of those language champions who have fought for our reo to remain a living language.

This last weekend of the campaign has been epic. The East Coast volunteer team has fired up all over the electorate from Kawerau to Te Teko, Whakatāne to Ōpotiki, Te Kaha to Gisborne. Our team have been out there knocking on doors, calling houses, taking people to polling booths, enrolling voters, attending public meetings on important issues like freshwater, and hosting front-bench members of parliament. The commitment from every single person involved in a political campaign is immeasurable – the one thing compelling all of these people to act is the very real hope of a genuinely different, and caring government. I have been awe inspired by my volunteers and I thank every single one of you for all that you have done, and continue to do, for change.

We now enter into the last week of the campaign for this general election 2017. What a journey it has been. I saw a post pop up on my Facebook timeline from one year ago on 10 September 2016 of the first video I made on the East Coast electorate. It has been a one year journey to this point and we are into the home stretch.

This election will come down to the wire, and it is a real contest in terms of vision for our country: prioritising the interests of the few wealthy at the expense of our communities and environment, or the opportunity to see change – real change – and return New Zealand to our original value proposition, a country where everyone has the chance to have someone to love, somewhere to live, somewhere to work, and something to hope for.

We have five days to go. Will you put your hand up to help us change this government? Our folks need you now, more than ever.

Hoake Tātou. Let’s Do This.

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