the start

I do not really remember the exact moment I began my conscious journey of identity and feeling that I was different from the rest, but I do remember the time.  I had moved schools shy of intermediate where the school roll was more than double my previous school, I knew nobody and the kids were mostly white.  An incredible contrast to the mostly brown faces I was used to schooling with.  There was no Polynesian group and singing practice consisted of songs only in English.  Importance was placed on how trendy your clothes were and the latest duraseal your books were covered in.  Meeting and connecting with a brown face was something very novel and exciting.  The Rents had not thought enough of the cultural changes I would face and as a consequence I struggled with my lack of preparation.  It felt like I had moved to a new country, not a school in a new suburb which made for hell at times, but I did manage to make a few friends along the way who I am still friends with today.  These school years also prepared me somewhat for high school, thankfully, even if it was the hard way.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

war of the worlds

I had never seen anyone terminally ill until my mother's brother became sick during my teenage years.  As an extended family we banded together as best we could to offer my uncle and his immediate family our support in what became his last months of life.  In sickness and in death the doors were always open for those who wanted to spend time with my uncle and the family.  As other family members passed away, I took the Samoan way of facing sickness and death to be the norm.

Some years later, my father's mother became sick and in her tender age, she began residing at a rest home - something I did not like, although had no say in.  After a short time at the rest home, my grandmother became unconscious, and surrounded by her children and grandchildren, she slipped from us slowly, day by day till finally she passed away.  In sickness and in death the doors tended to be more closed than open to anyone but family, and even then, there were seemingly unsaid limitations.

From my grandmother's decline in health till we laid her to rest with her husband, I felt like a foreigner living in some surreal reality.  The way everything was handled was not what I was used to.  I regularly thought to myself, who are these people I am meant to be related to?  My mother must have had an affair!  Is my father really the milkman?

So where does that leave me all these years on?  Thankfully I am still very much my father's daughter!  I still get a little sad thinking there were things I could have done or said differently, however I have to remember it was about my grandmother, not me.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

castle conversations

A few months ago I moved into a new place we sometimes like to call The Castle - an apartment that looks like a castle and feels like a castle, but really, it is an apartment.  The girls and I hit it off straight away when I met them, much to my relief.  One palagi, the other Maori.

After a few weeks I move in - someone who has been on a rather winding journey with my identity.  A journey I am still on and will be for quite some time.  Not too soon after that, the three of us are in the lounge talking over a few bottles of wine and the conversation moves to the harmless topic of what colour to dye our hair.  All of a sudden the Maori looks in my direction and blurts out "With you, no matter how dark your hair gets, it doesn't make you look any more native than what you already are BUT ME, dark hair makes me look really native, really Mau-ree and I just don't want that look for myself".

In that moment my jaw mentally dropped as my mind raced with a myriad of questions, thoughts and realisations.  Most prevalent in my mind was why I ended up in this place of all places, living with this person of all people who is intensely out of touch with who she is, out of touch with her roots and seems to be doing all she can to disassociate herself with being Maori, which from my observation is exactly what she needs most in her life.  She is running away from everything I am running to.

I have no idea how my journey living in The Castle is going to pan out with a Maori in denial about being Maori and I frequently feel restless when I think about it because I know something has to give with this girl.  I do not know how it is going to happen, I do not know when it is going to happen, I just know it is going to happen.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

kiss me, i'm irish.

Even though the Rugby World Cup pool matches are over, I want to take you back to the night of September 17, when Ireland rose victorious against the Wallabies.

It had not occurred to me to make the concerted effort to watch the game, and it was only the enthusiasm of a friend's fiancée that turned my attention to the television.  I was thinking to myself, why would I want to watch a game where it is not my beloved Manu Samoa playing?

In the early stages of the game it was quite obvious the household would have been happy with any winner on the night, as long as it was not Australia, which suited me just fine being loyal to the land of my birth.

At half-time, the game was locked 6-6 and I could feel some part of my being unfurling.  Then when the final whistle blew, I sat back in my chair with a sense of elation, not because Australia had been defeated.  No, I was elated because Ireland had won.

Amidst all the screaming and cheering and frightening my two-year-old niece (who did not know whether to laugh or cry staring at all the crazed adults in the room) an apple came crashing from the sky, smacking me nicely in the head.  I remembered, during of all things, a rugby game, that I have Irish blood running though my veins too.  Truly I do.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

it does matter if you are brown or white

Monday morning saw Breakfast host Paul Henry questioning New Zealand Prime Minister John Key as to whether or not Governor-General, Sir Anand Satyanand was a New Zealander, and whether the next Governor-General was going to look and sound more like a New Zealander.  From this, two vocal camps have emerged - those in support of Henry (particularly after being put on a two-week suspension without pay, even after a public apology), and those screaming for blood.  Then there is the gaping majority who don't seem to give a toss!

I will be one of the first to admit I am a Paul Henry fan.  I even tweeted my love for him after his People's Choice Award acceptance speech at the 2010 Qantas Film and Television Awards!  I became a Paul Henry fan earlier this year because A. I started watching Breakfast semi-regularly  B. He is funny and a bit dorky  C. He is not reluctant in sharing his opinions and is prepared to back it or back off, and D. I find the other Breakfast host Pippa Wetzell somewhat boring and Tamati Coffey rather irritating.  While I do think the comments made by Henry were inappropriate, I do not think them inappropriate enough to terminate his contract with TVNZ.

In my eyes, Henry's words are a very real reflection of the view of a number in New Zealand society, both young and old - if you fall outside the category of white middle-upper class and do not speak Kiwi, or Posh-Kiwi for that matter, you have no real claim to belonging to New Zealand.  As much as people in this country are in disbelief that racism like this could and should exist here, the fact remains, racism, in its many forms, is happily rearing its ugly head in Godzone.

And if you don't believe me then just talk to the drunk palagi I saw a few years back aggressively yelling racial slander at anyone walking by who did not mirror his dirty pink skin, or the naive palagi teenagers on my bus last month playing "Spot the Coconut" accompanied with an abundance of sniggers, or the fat-mouth-palagi I met through work blatantly admitting she is racist, or the drug-fucked palagi neighbour three houses down telling my mother to go back to where she came from.  I could go on, but I won't.

All this talk has me coming up with more questions than answers .. When are people going to stop shooting at Paul Henry as if he is the only racist in this country and look at the bigger picture? .. In New Zealand today, how are the seeds for an environment of basic understanding and respect for people from all walks of life nurtured? .. How do I learn to love the aggressive drunks, the naive teenagers, the fat-mouths and the drug-fucked despite their lack of love for me?

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.

who am i?

After my very minimal attempt at researching the word 'afakasi on Google, I found that according to Urban Dictionary there are two definitions for the word.  The second definition I really cannot cope with while the first one I can as it is very much in line with my definition: derived from the word half-caste, 'afakasi is a Samoan term which refers to a person with one Samoan parent and one Palagi parent.

Often throughout my life I have been asked the questions "What are you?" and "Where are you from?" to which, in more recent years, I have responded with "a human being" and "I am from New Zealand" knowing full well the answer they are actually searching for is an explanation for the way I look - Polynesian yet fair skinned.  Every time I get asked those questions the person is usually sure I am Māori and checking to be polite or feels a need to label me for whatever reason as they are quite unsure of my race and ethnicity.

History all over the world tells us the word half-caste was very much a derogatory term and I firmly believe the term 'afakasi is derogatory today although maybe not as widely.  The thought of someone that does not know who I am calling me 'afakasi makes my insides churn because today it seems, being called 'afakasi goes beyond describing genealogy and extends to describing the understanding of an 'afakasi's own ethnicity and culture.

As an 'afakasi, I am not a human being roaming this earth doomed to incompleteness for the rest of my life because I am merely half of something and half of something else.  I am a complete human being who carries my genealogy as a whole - Samoan and Palagi side by side - even if I do not know every single detail due to factors beyond my control.  I do not pick and choose things Samoan with an air of ignorance and arrogance to make up half my identity because I am not just half.  You can look at me and stop at the fair skin, however it takes a brave person to go deeper and find out not what I am, but who I am.

This is me - Teine 'Afakasi.