Being brown in Christchurch

Recently Christchurch has been in the news again for being racist. Oh, ho, ho! What will those cricket-fetishist, First Four Ships-worshipping WASPs be up to next? But “Christchurch is New Zealand’s capital of racism” as an established storyline that everyone understands doesn’t sit well with me. Just to fill you in, local asian-fusion restaurant Bamboozle…

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Changing ‘The Changeover’

The Changeover has been my favourite novel since I was 15, I’ve read it five times (as a dedicated “once only” reader of fiction, this is a very high number for me) and I’ve written before about what a wonderful gift that book was, and continues to be. How much stress a book-fan suffers when…

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What I learned from Margaret Mahy

Last night I watched Campbell Live and found that the piece on the Fosters, a couple who were so unhappy about their two-year-old being taught te reo Māori vocab in preschool that they were considering withdrawing her from it. I found myself at moments almost shaking with fury at the wilful ignorance on display, at others…

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Christchurch: Urban farmland

Urban farmland? Bit of an oxymoron there, don’t you think, Moata? Mayhaps, pedantic reader. Mayhaps. Then again, I’m not quite sure what else to call my hometown given the odd spate of random livestock appearances we’ve been having.

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Three Februaries: 2011-2012-2016

A picture of me in the same place at three different moments in time. Feb 2011: After the 6.3 magnitude earthquake on 22 February 2011, immediately after we had left the building, my friend and workmate took a photo of me with her phone. The expression on my face probably says everything. I’m looking towards…

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