Iona Winter

This post may be seen as contentious, or a myriad of other labelling things. So if you’re someone who thinks that oppression, separatism and exclusion are okay, please feel free to unfollow me.

What has become clear is that I can no longer remain quiet, in response to what I observe happening in the world we inhabit. Inhabit, to occupy permanently (until we die) — not only the earth but also the vessels we’re in, our bodies. How come we’ve fallen out of relationship with the earth, which nourishes and sustains us, and subsequently with one another and ourselves?

If Reuben were still alive, we’d be having hearty discussions about what is playing out on the world stage. I know he’d be staunch in his views, but equally open to hearing opposing views. And he would continue to love fiercely those closest to him. The same is true for me; after all he is my son.

For the record I’m not ‘anti’ or ‘pro’ the current debates, neither am I sitting on the fence. My kaupapa is to be a loving and authentic human in my relationships with others and our earth — even when those viewpoints are not aligned with my own. Yet I cannot follow blithely along with what appears to be an increasingly divisive narrative. I’m growing more concerned about the ways I see people treating one another, in response to fear. And as you know, I fear nothing now that my only child is dead.

A wise person once said, ‘there are always three sides to any argument.’ I tend to agree. It feels important to look past any dominant narrative, and delve deeper, while exploring my responses first — so that I’m not projecting my stuff onto you. The one thing I’m not doing is coercing anyone to join me, because we are all entitled to personal opinions and decisions, when it comes to our sovereignty. Sadly I’ve had too many experiences, where people have felt entitled to ram their opinions down my throat. I don’t want to repeat that.

George Carlin said, “Don’t just teach your children to read…teach them to question what they read. Teach them to question everything.” I can honestly say that I am proud to have taught Reuben to question everything, because I grew up in a time when that was not possible. I encouraged him to do his research, and question what he saw — particularly online with his first or second scroll. Let’s face it algorithms are part of our online world now. What we view most often equals more of the same.

I admire Reuben the researcher, and how he’d talk anyone’s ear off about what he’d discovered. But I was sad when many people commented (after his death) that it was often too much for them. I realise it was too much for him as well, and that was a contributing factor in his decision to take his life — a component of that decision worth noting.

In the past month I’ve said no to three exciting writerly opportunities, because they were offered under a protocol that privileged one group of applicants over another. Morally I had to say no, regardless of my ‘status’, because I can’t engage with biased exclusion. And I’ve found myself muttering under my breath repeatedly, ‘Have we learned nothing?’ It appears not.

It is incredibly difficult to live with graciousness, in such a divisive environment. Restricting groups of people from exercising their human rights strikes me as toxic and oppressive. The only option is to take it seriously, because it’s not in me to collude with rules that continue cycles of injustice, inequality and exclusion. I’ve been reminded of the time when a pregnant colleague was made redundant, because she was hapū and I was not. It was a no brainer to quit my job the same day.

Other countries are punishing people for exercising their human rights. And it’s begun here in Aotearoa New Zealand, despite the promises that were made. I can’t help but notice the absence of varied news reports, but I guess when there’s only an ‘accredited press’ there’s no space for it — unless, like me, you’re prepared to dig deeper. While I’m not an investigative journalist’s right butt cheek, even I know when something’s amiss.

I love you regardless of your decisions, because those decisions are your own. I won’t stand in a place of judgement, and will continue to respect you. All I ask is that you do the same for me. Let’s both continue to ask questions, with love and authenticity.