Māori solidarity with BLM and the importance of self-reflection in Aotearoa

At everyday needs, we have been reflecting on the Black Lives Matter movement and what this means to us as an organisation and also what it means for Aotearoa New Zealand.

Whilst we have been reflecting on our business practices and thinking about how we can be better as allies to BIPoC, we took the opportunity to spend some time with our EDN team member Sascha who descends from Ngāi Tahu and Ngāpuhi iwi. She grew up in Invercargill and now lives in Mount Maunganui. Together we came up with a few questions as starting points to discuss Sascha’s experiences. We are aware that our team consists of mostly White women and the rest of the team want to acknowledge here how grateful they are to Sascha for taking the time to work on this and applaud her for her honesty and bravery.

Sascha said of her decision to discuss this publicly, “I have been thinking long and hard about whether or not to share my experiences with racism as a wāhine Māori having grown up in Aotearoa. I get whakamā about delving into the pain I have experienced and that of my whānau. But I believe that it is paramount to utilise our voices as Māori, to speak up about injustice while people are listening.”

 

What is the relevance of the BLM movement in Aotearoa? What has this brought up for you?

 

Firstly, I want to acknowledge that the Black Lives Matter is a campaign against the violence and systemic racism towards Black people living in America. Now is the time to enhance Black voices – and for those of us that don’t have one, this means it’s time to listen. At first, I found it difficult to place my indigenous voice within the binary nature of the hard but necessary conversation between Black and White. Because I am not Black, I will never understand the experiences of Black people in America. However because I am Māori, I have lived experiences of racism. I think that, in coming from an oppressed people, sharing Māori voices is so necessary and our alliance with Black Lives Matter even more so.

Black America is angry, true - because Black America is tired. And wouldn’t you be? If you had to keep fighting for issues that continue to take on new shapes – if you had to keep screaming the same desperate sentences that your ancestors did hundreds of years ago only to have them fall on deaf ears - you would be tired too. There have been oppressed voices screaming for centuries in Aotearoa too. I come from a long line of tired voices carrying the weight of our colonial trauma. The effects of our history still remain today and can be seen reflected in every sphere of society – our academic institutions, access to healthcare, incarceration rates and state care continue to fail Māori. The system that exists within western culture is a result of hundreds of years of colonial efforts to epitomise European features, minds, systems and lives. No colonised country in the world is exempt from historical evidence of theft, violence and murder against indigenous people for the prioritisation of white lives.

 

Do you feel Aotearoa still has challenges coming to terms with its colonial history? Do you feel there are things we can do as a country to change this?

 

Yes, without a shadow of a doubt. The main challenge in coming to terms with it is that our colonial history is not the history we are taught. In fact, as the current system stands, the true colonial history of Aotearoa will currently cost you about $800 per paper at University – not only is this inaccessible to many, it also involves making an active choice to learn it.

I would say in order to make any change, we need to decolonise the education system in Aotearoa in order to normalise knowledge of the injustices that took place during the colonisation of our country. We need to be taught the version of our history that fairly reflects the experiences of Māori and values our cultural practices and traditions – those lost and remaining.

 

How have you found it making your way in the art and design industries, do you think your experience has been different to that of others?

 

Before I began working for everyday needs, I saw a strong future for myself in art galleries. I was always drawn to conceptual artists such as Michael Parekowhai, Lisa Reihana, and Fiona Pardington – artists who have all actively challenged the oppression of Māori culture and history in really different but interesting ways. The study of Art History incorporated so much meaning into the way that I look at and value art – which is probably why I am drawn predominantly to Māori artists.

But I found the structure of commercial gallery work quite confusing – I was taught to sell my culture and watched it become a commodity. More meaning and value was placed on money, sales and elitism than it was on genuine knowledge of artists, their practices and the cultural significance of these.

I found for myself that in order for me to succeed in any industry, I need to feel valued and supported on a cultural level.

 

What was your experience growing up in Aotearoa as Māori?

 

I grew up In Invercargill and was one of very few Māori in my year group at school so, with my jet black hair, deep brown eyes and olive skin, I was always very aware that I looked different to my non-Māori peers. I definitely internalised my cultural and physical differences negatively over the years I spent at High School – I was very insecure and shy. I would hear racist jokes come from the mouths of my best friends and peers, even teachers sometimes and I would say nothing. I genuinely believed that I was worth less than my white peers and every racist word solidified this for me. It was like taking a blow to the stomach every time, but I didn’t really know any different.

If I could tap my 16-year-old self on the shoulder and tell her anything I would tell her to prioritise her own self-respect and that of those she loves over the comfortability of others. Then maybe she might have spoken up.

There are spaces in society that I don’t feel like I belong because I am Māori, such as University. I started my studies at Otago Uni, where I always felt so uncomfortable and judged - I just couldn’t find a place for myself there. I distinctly remember one day sitting right at the back of a classroom for a Gender Studies tutorial where we were (ironically) discussing equality. Somehow we got onto the topic of Māori and Pasifika at university and, being the only Māori in the room, I sunk into my seat and just wanted to disappear. I knew what was coming. A young girl sat at the front of the room piped up with exactly what I expected - “I think it’s really unfair that Māoris get into uni easier and pass with lower grades. Like, I’d rather have a Doctor that was genuinely qualified than one who’s there cause they’re brown.” I have never met a single person who approached their coursework with the belief that they will still pass because they are Māori. This reiterates the lazy stereotype that I have worked hard my whole life to shake. Flippant comments like this are reflective of how far we still have to go in Aotearoa to normalise the presence of Māori and Pasifika in academia and the multitude of other spaces we have been historically excluded from.

When the validity of your presence is constantly being questioned – you start to believe that you don’t deserve a seat at the table. My hope is that inclusion efforts continue so that my daughters and granddaughters can sit in these classrooms without ever wanting to disappear.

 

How would you describe the culture of racism that exists In Aotearoa?

 

I often hear people comparing the racism in New Zealand to the overt, violent racism that we know happens elsewhere and decide that this makes our country racism-free. I hear this all the time about what’s happening in the states – “that would never happen here,” “racism here is just subtle jokes, it’s not that bad.” It is of absolutely zero credit to our country that there are more oppressive, overtly racist countries elsewhere. That’s a really regressive mindset. It’s lazy.

Racism here may be subtle on the surface because the internalised stereotypes of minority groups seldom slip from the mouth - unless in the company of people who might agree. This is a far more insidious form of racism because no one can challenge what isn’t said out loud. No one can stop you from teaching your children or whispering to your best friend. And so the stereotypes perpetuate.

We still see your racism, even when you don’t verbalise it. It’s in the disapproving looks, the guiding of your children away from our direction, the way you follow us around your stores, the vice grip in your purse, the assumption that we have nothing of value to say. We see you.

If you look at a person of colour and make a judgment on their character based on their skin colour, whether you verbalise it or not, you are racist. And you have work to do. Dismantling internalised racism starts from within and can only happen if you allow yourself to acknowledge it’s there, then actively work to let it go. Call yourself out. Then practice this when you hear racist comments from others.

 

For EDN to become a more inclusive and proactive ally, what changes have you been advocating for over the past few weeks?

 

I feel really lucky to work within a team that values equality and social justice but still acknowledges that we have a long way to go. I have been blown away by the efforts of my colleagues and director in keeping the momentum behind the scenes to create meaningful content in support of Black Lives Matter.

We are working hard to ensure that we provide meaningful, authentic content to support the BLM movement and equality and justice in Aotearoa. We are constantly researching resources that we believe will be helpful in further educating our audience and ourselves. We are working on strengthening staff policies.

Working toward this has naturally brought about some deep discussion about who we are as a business and what we stand for. In talking to our director, equality is a key component to who we believe we are, but we recognise that there is still so much work to be done.

 

Some of the observations that we have made are:

• • Our collaborators and makers include very few BIPoC.
• • Our EDN content (such as The Edit and Journal) consists of some incredible creatives but is in need of diversification.
• • The cultures from which the practice required to make a lot of our products remain underrepresented.

 

Some of the suggestions put forward to strengthen the diversity of our brand are:

• • Looking at ways we can strengthen staff policies in be more inclusive of BIPoC.
• • Invest time into researching and reaching out to makers and brands which are owned by BIPoC.
• • Provide a platform to share the practices of creatives from all sectors of society including the disabled community, the aged community, LGBTQI, Māori, Pacific and other BIPoC from Aotearoa and beyond.
• • As well as valuing the creative processes that our products are made from, celebrate the cultures from which they come. Share the significance of these practices to their cultures.

 

Looking to the future, what do you hope the outcome from the current BLM matter movement will mean not only for Aotearoa New Zealand but for the world?

 

I think the Black Lives Matter movement has provided a powerful and long awaited opportunity - first and foremost for Black Americans but also BIPoC globally. As a result, individual countries are being encouraged to look within and reflect on their own racial issues.

We need to learn the true history of our colonial past so that we can understand the unjust treatment of Māori and other minority groups. We also need to call ourselves on our unfair assumptions of others based on racial background. It’s going to be confronting and uncomfortable but it’s an opportunity for Aotearoa and the world to create a future for our tamariki that so many of our tired ancestors would be proud of.