🟫 'Needs a bit of brown' 🤦♀️
Entry #62 is essential reading on how not to proceed as Paakehaa
Entry #62
A pass-it-on share of someone else’s writing today, but one I really, really urge you to make time for. Click below.
This piece is by Kate Frykberg, published online by e-tangata. It’s gentle enough to read, but you can tell from the title that Kate is speaking on a very delicate topic.
I have read this article several times, there is plenty to sit with and squirm away from.
Dig into it.
For any readers who are head-scratching over why I’ve written this as entry #62, let me say more. It’s partly to do with a comment below Kate’s article. Here’s a screenshot of what caught my eye.
...Little easy bits ...selected bits of brown ...bits that fluff things up.
This got me right in the heart. I have seen it and I am guilty of participating in the selection of convenient brown bits too, Hinerangi.
I’ve been here for 16 years. I’ll always be English, I will never be Maaori nor do I try to be. I will never be fluent in te reo and I will always live with an incomplete sense of who I am (you could say a fractured whakapapa) that I think is experienced by many Paakehaa from Europe.
Hinerangi doesn’t appear to be asking me to be anything more than a better ally. A friendly, anti-racist face, an extra voice, someone who can work with all of the brown, not just the little easy bits.
What’s harder? Learning te reo in evening classes, or really living as an ally with Maaori in your world?
This year I have moved forwards with the journey of being a better Paakehaa. I’ve always been eager to do better. I have walked into ‘brown spaces’ through recent project work and felt calmer, more open, less anxious about fucking it up. It’s been a blast as well, I’ve laughed and learnt so much.
What do you take from the article? My own mistakes are echoed in there. I’ve learnt to do better over the years and I have managed some progress. But it’s a journey, and still:
I’ve entered into hui with my basic pepeha under my arm and felt chuffed with myself, but realised later I was only filling in the blanks on a template and I knew nothing of my own mountains, rivers and people.
I’ve cried at kapa haka on TV, struggled to control big fat tears when waiata are sung and literally had no idea why I was feeling this way, but never paused to look closer and examine my own cultural void.
I have stayed silent when I’ve seen others in the ‘powerful systems’ cherry-pick the parts of te Ao Maaori that they can stomach or afford, or that add box-ticks to the project.
I’ve quietly backed up the lonely ones and tried to say ‘I see you, this is not OK’ but I’ve done it offline, privately and felt bad about it too, for fear I was undermining the Paakehaa in charge.
I’ve had many moments where I knew what ‘better’ looked like but second-guessed myself and how it would be received by other Paakehaa - then bottled out of actually doing better.
Maybe all I can do is sit down and shut up when I’m lucky enough to be around anyone willing to teach me the courage and history necessary for this journey.
If I’m privileged enough to have a hand hold on the levers of a project, or some funding, or a new kaupapa - I know now that I can share power, step aside, release resources - because if we only want a bit of brown, we have to uppercut ourselves and remember that brown has been patient for long enough.
I need to practice louder actions - actions that put my own neck on the line to save the energies and efforts of anyone who is tired, vulnerable and lonely.
Hinerangi, I do want to be one of those people.
Readers, do you?
As always, I look forward to hearing what you heard, saw and felt when reading this.
With love,
Michelle xx
Thank you for sharing this!! Such important conversations to have in order to do better.