by Danielle Whitburn
by Melissa Low
Everyday I’m Hustling
Homegrown Banana
Image: Race Relations Poster. (2007)
T
he world is made beautiful by many skills and learned arts. Arts are usually noble, subtly acquired things, like learning how to beat an opponent in a game of chess or possessing a set of killer pipes. You subtly brag of your talent, devising situations to put yourself in the spotlight for all to see. It might be a nice pair of legs you worked hard for at Les Mills, an incredible general knowledge, or an aptitude for putting together a beautiful outfit that is both kooky and classy. Nevertheless, arts are things acquired, admired and often hired to improve your confidence in front of that daily bathroom mirror. Until recently I had never regarded hustling as an art. It was always one of those awkward talents that bordered half on embarrassment, half on fun. Your friend might notice someone giving you the eye and hustle a drink through your looks, but you were always left with a taste of seediness in your mouth after the event. Hustling as a form of bargaining was like the guy you would never show to your parents, but would meet in some secret location away from prying eyes: you liked the feeling in the moment, but you didn’t like the consequences. Unclean, humiliating and with a crooked smile, hustling was a part of yourself you didn’t want to truly embrace. After reflecting on a few of life’s beauties, however, I realised there was more to hustling. Hustling was a way of life. It did not have to be associated with bad boy rappers and drug dealers, or with people whose desperation had got the better of them. Hustling, indeed, was the art of persuasion. After having heard the other day in one of those oh-so-informative classes that persuasion informed any kind of social agreement or relationship, I realised hustling too was an important part of any relationship (if you decided to take that theoretical line). Was hustling just persuasion’s dirtier younger cousin? If we persuaded somebody to do something, we were really proud and told all of our friends. But if we hustled something that was not ‘one of our finer moments’. Hustling had been stereotyped, and I felt bad for him. Being a charitable person, I decided to try and restore hustling’s good name. I applauded those that hustled free drinks or numbers. I began to admire those that could knock money off a dress new to the store that had no defects. I elevated people’s persistence in trying to hustle a good deal out of their next purchase. Consequently, I made a hustling breakthrough. I, the one who had always been embarrassed of trying to get things for free, hustled something of substantial value. I must say, I was rather proud. And why shouldn’t we be? Isn’t it in the nature of New Zealanders to go to Fair Go if they get a bad deal? To try and get the best value for their dollar? Hustling had not only lost its shame, but had acquired a kind of national pride, and I loved it. For those who still despise the hustler, I ask you: have you ever felt the feeling of elation in getting something for free? Did you like the feeling when, after a great bargain you made happen yourself, your wallet was still that bit heavier afterwards? For the unspoken truth is that if human relationships are persuasion, and persuasion equals hustling, then a big part of good socialising is indeed the humble hustle. Hustle friends, hustle contacts, hustle sex if you must. But hustle with your head held high.
24.
L
et me pose a question to you. What is better to follow – the traditions of your people or the traditions of the country? It’s fair to say that there will be a part of our heritage which is foreign to this country. Somewhere along the lines you’re bound to have a great, great, great grandparent that came to New Zealand on a boat, or plane, or some other sort of ocean crossing transportation. And with that ocean crossing transportation, they brought their own traditions to this land. Sometimes their cultural traditions contributed well to the country, but at times they can clash into one big controversial mess. No doubt when you think of the country’s current cultural controversial conflicts (say that five times) the whole burqa argument comes to mind. Let’s face it; the black full body covering can bring so much attention onto the individual, it would be as obvious as seeing Batman walking up Queen Street in broad daylight. It is understandable though to why some New Zealanders don’t like the idea of burqas. Traditionally, Kiwis (and western countries in general) are used to seeing someone’s face. We like seeing smiles and nice teeth and cool haircuts. But the concept of covering one’s face is associated with someone who goes and robs the local dairy, someone who is protecting themselves from swine flu, or is someone that will make you feel that they are stalkish and suspicious, all of which is intimidating. Banks have a reason why they don’t allow caps, hoodies and sunglasses to be worn inside the building; because they want to identify your face. But that’s the tradition in New Zealand. The reasoning behind wearing the burqa for some Islamic females is that they don’t become judged or tempt other men, which I think is a good reason. Imagine all the positives about wearing a burqa. For one, all women could suddenly have an even playing field and not be judged on whether they’re dressing like “sluts”. Make up and hair products wouldn’t take out such a large part of the living costs because you wouldn’t need foundation, conditioner, hair dye, or even concealer for pimple breakouts. Plus you’d probably never have to think about shaving your legs as often if no one other than you can tell how hairy they are becoming. But despite all the positive reasoning I can think about burqas, traditionally it’s not something people of our country would ever decide to do. It’s just not easy to radically change the ideas set by tradition and the society most of us have grown up in. And I guess that’s where I sit in terms of the question I gave you. While some may believe when we live in New Zealand we easily follow the ideals and traditions that we’ve accepted as we grew up here, we cannot expect immigrants to instantly conform to our ideals of society. We should ultimately be thankful of the free choice we have as a country, along with being granted the rights and equality between the genders. So honour those who follow their traditions, whether they wear a burqa or not. Because either way you look at it, they’re allowed free choice in this country too.
issue 16 2011