Privilege and the pandemic

Words / Hinenui Wano-Bryant

He Puawai au nō Runga i te Tikanga

He Rau Rengarenga au nō roto i te Raukura.

Ko taku Raukura rā he manawanui ki te ao.

I am the fruit of righteous endeavours.

A healing herb from deep within my Raukura

My Raukura is an emblem of peace, a sign of hope and steadfastness to the world.

When we introduce ourselves within Te Ao Māori – we often speak from the context of Whakapapa.

Whakapapa is a way of tracing our genealogy, experiences, and lineage through the people we are born from. Its pretty much a proclamation that I am not here of my own doing – but I am the result of many a Tūpuna (ancestral) prayer. My position and space in this world, was brought about through the many people that loved and desired for me. I am surrounded by my ‘Rau Kōtahi’. That is, the many, the hundreds, who have gone before me and whom I bring with me on this journey called life.

This saying above was from the Prophet, Te Whiti ō Rongomai – one of our Taranaki ancestors.

It speaks of the emblem of the three white albatross feathers, the Raukura of Parihaka. The Raukura means peace on earth, glory to God and goodwill to ALL mankind. It is from this perspective that we live our life with the same values. I am here because of the deeds of my ancestors. My existence is active healing and restoration. My Raukura, which I wear in my hair tells you I am here, and I, through my descendants will never leave.

Our existence is infinite. Having been born through the actions of ancestors, our continuance is also born through the many interwoven threads of our descendants, our Mokopuna. When we break down the kupu (word) Tūpuna we find two key words Tū and Puna. Tū sometimes interpreted as ‘to stand’ more so speaks to one’s ability to stand. To stand is to continue, preserver and thrive. Tama Tū, Tama Ora, Tama Moe, Tama Mate. A man who stands will live. A man who lies down will perish.

We keep it simple in te Ao Māori – in essence, our ancestors are the spring that nourishes us and allows us to continue to stand. Similarly, we hear the same use of ‘puna’ in the word Mokopuna - known as our descendants or grandchildren. The word Mokopuna can be more accurately defined as the blueprint of that same spring that nourishes us to live. Moko, known as the Māori artform of tattooing, is actually the blueprint which outwardly expresses, the whakapapa or genealogy we carry within.

Life in that sense, is sacred.

Life, and people, and the environment are all intimately connected and of the highest importance.

We believe our existence relies on our relationship with one another and mutual reciprocity.

Which is why you will see most hapū and iwi protect that same whakapapa with 100% unapologetic vigour.

For Māori, living in Aotearoa is worn with tension.

We are fortunate to live a life of privilege that our ancestors never knew.

We are seen as leaders in the art of resistance, cultural revitalisation and reo (language) retention.

And yet, statistically speaking, we largely live as the most marginalised people within our own home.

Currently Māori cases of COVID19 represent 50-60% of all total cases.

Māori only make up 19% of the population.

Go do your googles and you will see many more lines of overrepresentation.

Once upon a time I HATED recounting these stats. A constant jab (no pun intended) and reminder of how we were winning at losing. But that has never been MY experience of being Māori.

Having had the privilege of learning my reo, being brought up on a Papakainga, knowing tikanga intimately from a young age, and having the good fortune of learning matauranga Māori (Maori forms of knowledge) through song, art and spiritual practices. Being last just didn’t compute for me?

Through my mokopuna eyes, we were amazing.

Resilient (still need to come up with a better word than that).

Tenacious. Clever. Powerful.

How can you not see this, when colonialism is still active in the cause of preventable ill health?

Colonialism being the way in which the existence and creation of the ‘New Zealand Colony’, continues to make laws, pass policies, and create systems that benefit their own, largely settler population. I know these are all big words (kinda), but again go head and do them googles. Schooling? Not based on te tiriti or a Māori approach to education. Health system – not a Māori approach. Let’s not even go there with the prisons.

But you know what is? Kura Kaupapa.

Māori and Iwi Health Providers.

Restorative Justice.

Are these equally funded and resourced like their Pākeha counterparts?

(I so wanna say do your googles, but I’ll just say no).

Also, these methods of addressing education, health, and justice all STATISCALLY provide better outcomes for Māori than the whole Pakeha counterpart stuff.

So you know with all this statistically proven, culturally responsive, tikanga informed, spiritually nuanced INDIGENOUS BRILLIANCE – why did the system AKA the Ministry of Health, not respond to calls from Māori Providers to let them lead a Māori Vaccine Response?

Because Colonialism is a pervading ideology that continues to uphold whiteness and all its structures. It seeks to impose its ways, above all else. What we are seeing is the evolution of whiteness not asserting itself as supreme (because we aren’t racist in New Zealand!)

Hell baby, whiteness is just the norm! I mean WE KNOW it’s not better for us to allow colonial structures the mandate to lead our health, education, or justice responses. So, what does the system do? Normalise itself as simply being the standard. Assume now, maybe apologise later.

Which is exactly the situation we are in now.

Now Māori providers are being given the tools, resource, and money to respond to the very real and impending onslaught of COVID19.

Largely contained to Tamaki Makaurau, we now know that we cannot continue to contain this outbreak.

As much as we thank our Tamaki whānau for manning the fort. We are scared.

After working tirelessly to promote, incentivise, mobilise, and hold vaccination clinics – now we are preparing to plan for our whānau to get covid. This was not on our radar a year ago. Now, an already struggling health system is preparing to support our whānau back to health, before they’re even sick.

I live in New Plymouth a largely pākeha township with an almost there 90% vaxx rate.

My dad, brother, sister, brother-in-law and niece live in Waitara. The name might seem familiar because it is the township where the Taranaki land wars started. A community filled with people who care more than I think is humanly possible. Waitara is a proud, resilient, joy filled community. Despite continued colonial attacks, e kore e pouri tonu Waitara i mamae. Lyrics from the lament Waitara that tells of the deep soul wound or mamae left behind by the Waitara wars (google it but yeah, 40 years of colonial occupation – it’s a shit history).

Waitara is the gateway to Taranaki, and has a Māori vaccination rate of 50%

Half of our town is susceptible to covid19.

Take a moment to let that sink in.

Covid19 worldwide is now the third largest cause of death behind heart disease and stroke.

And as the Auckland borders open, and the largest community outbreak of Covid19, that couldn’t be eliminated, suppressed, or eased, will be on the doorsteps of our most vulnerable.

And what does mainstream media ask? When can we go to level GREEN?

Why can we go to get our hair done … but not go to a bar?

The red light green light doesn’t make sense….

Vaccinated people have no restrictions – but there are restrictions?

The casual way in which privilege seeks to uphold itself, sickens me.

For YEARS, Māori have had to deal with constantly being reminded of our poor health stats, being the worse of the worst – and now during a global pandemic and on the precipice of this disease becoming endemic…. We are asking why we can’t have a beer at a pub?

Listen, to a degree I get it – I love an overpriced Prosecco and guessing which tables are on tinder dates, just like you. But like I said, us Māori people sort of see life as sacred?

When Apirana Ngata began to understand how far reaching the 1918 Flu pandemic was, he tasked ethnographers with collating kōrero (verbal accounts) from our elders, regarding our histories. Many of these elders being first language speakers, some not even speaking English.

He knew we were about to lose a window into our culture. After losing so much (at this point I’m not even gonna drop stats, just go google Maori language fluency rates), what you have left is so precious.

What do we have left? Our elders. The standing spring…the depositories of our collective history.

What do we have left? Our mokopuna. The blueprint containers of our culture.

In essence, we have our people.

What is precious? Our imbued existence which lives on through us. It can’t live if we don’t.

Yes. Drink your beer – the time is near.

But asking why you can’t go to a bar but can get a haircut, feels like a guy asking for 3rd base and not being happy with first. Like an over-eager dude who is doing the least but expecting THE MOST.

The system for me is quite easy.

You not at 90% vaxx? RED ZONE.

You got community cases that are still high and putting pressure on the health system?

RED ZONE.

You at 90%, have active community cases, but they’re manageable? ORANGE ZONE.

You at 90% and have no community cases? GREEN!

OH WHAT” “But they said no restrictions for vaccinated” …

Ahhhhh. No. Aunty Cindy said, if you are vaccinated you will have access to most services.

Gym yes. Barber, yes. Sitting in a café, yes.

The restrictions relate to the sizing of events.

In red zone and having a wedding? AKA possibly living in a community with less than 90% or have active community outbreaks? Restricted numbers – but don’t worry, you can still get your hair did for said wedding. So yeah know, nice hair but let’s try not spread the covid!

It’s a change in tact, and we allllll need to bring ourselves up to speed with these changes.

If you got time to moan you got time to google.

Our communities lay in wait, praying that those things we have fought hard to retain, are not at risk of being lost forever.

The least you can do is find out ways in which you can minimise harm towards others.

Is that such a big ask? Like I said, life is sacred.

Hinenui Wano-Bryant is a Wahine Māori of Taranaki, Te Āti Awa and Ngāti Awa descent and lives in Ngāmotu, Taranaki with her 12-year-old son Korban. Hinenui has worked in Māori health for over 15 years and currently works alongside hapū and iwi implementing Treaty of Waitangi deed of settlements. Hinenui is also studying towards her Masters in Māori and Indigenous Leadership through the University of Canterbury - Her thesis explores the ways in which indigenous women’s bodies, have been impacted by colonialism and patriarchy. Her thesis explored issues of sovereignty and autonomy and ways we can decolonise the body. Her views are very much informed by her lived experience of being a solo Māori mother and the way in which marginalisation intersects across these groupings.