Salient Issue 10 - Volume 88 by Salient

TOUCH GRASS

In 2019, it seemed like the climate movement was on the verge of genuine change. The School Strike was one of the biggest protest movements in Aotearoa’s history, and would only be surpassed by the record-breaking Hikoi. The Zero Carbon Act promised a genuine foundation, however shaky, for building a carbon-neutral future. When Massey University gathered undecideds in the 2017 election, voters across the spectrum agreed that major parties needed to do more for the environment.

Now, in 2025, climate change appears to be completely off the table. As we slip further and further away from reaching emissions guidelines, and as we increasingly open up our natural environment to exploitation and pillaging, most of our society (or at least the voting public) seems completely nonplussed.

Just a couple of months ago, Just Stop Oil, one of the remaining militant activist movements in the world, announced that it would be suspending its public protest actions. Just Stop Oil held their last protest a couple of weeks ago.

The total collapse of climate activism is partially due to the re-emergence of global conflict and fascism, but it also has a lot to do with the structure of the organisations that dominated the space at the time. In Aotearoa New Zealand, the burden of climate activism was almost entirely placed on schoolchildren, who lacked the emotional maturity and seriousness to withstand the difficult business of running an organised resistance to a global threat. Many of the activists who invested their entire teenage years in School Strikes are now jaded, either disengaged from politics or conceded to mainstream liberal parties.

These organisations were rife with conflict, never truly holding the organisational strength to present clear and coherent demands. This is because, at the end of the day, they lacked a clear analysis of their project and what needed to be accomplished to carry it out. Ours was a generation raised on the politics of infographics. In the place of materialist and intersectional analysis of how climate change was weaponized against the global working class, particularly in the Global South (South Asia, Africa, but also the Pacific), they had nothing but slogans meaningless appeals to cultural identity.

Equally problematic was the lack of ideological clarity within the movement. While some were right-leaning reformers who thought that climate change could be solved through private enterprise, others were free-wheeling anarchists who believed in the collapse of hierarchies as a whole. An overwhelming majority of the children (again, children!!) leading these movements were from privileged bourgeois backgrounds, and had little contact with the people who they claimed to represent. The initial school strike, in 2019, was held on the same day as Polyfest, which outsiders pointed to as a clear example of monocultural leadership.

It’s no wonder, then, that they were unable to survive the post-2020 racial and cultural reckoning, when organisations needed to be genuinely principled in the way they navigated their inward reforms.

Eventually, this all came to a head. In 2021, School Strike for Climate Auckland disbanded, declaring itself racist (which it may well have been). This was the inevitable result of a movement based on liberal idealism -- completely unable to hold up under its own contradictions.

I don’t mean to be too harsh on these people -- after all, running a national movement as a 16-year-old is too much stress to feasibly be placed on anyone. Nor do I condemn them for their political missteps. As I said, it was the zeitgeist of our generation. It was the only way we knew how to build a political future.

Nevertheless, though, we do need a climate movement. The situation is only getting worse, and even when liberal reformers do make incremental changes, they are stripped away immediately by the forces of reaction (Luxon, Trump, etc). This time, though, it’s on adults to take responsibility, and build a movement that directly confronts capitalism and colonialism, that makes demands not just of policy reform but of total revolution.

If we want our planet to survive, we need to stop the forces that try to throttle it.

Thursday

Lavender Menace W/ Thousand Acre Plain

Lavender Menace is returning to Te Whanganuia-Tara with Thousand Acre Plain, and special guests Perpetual Motion Machina and Bug Michigan to bring you a night of the best new music in the greater Wellington Region

8PM - San Fran - $15

Spike F*ck

After the release of the Smackwave EP in 2016— now cemented as a cult classic in Melbourne music history—Spike F*ck is taking their raw, honest, and blood-and-sweat-soaked performances on the road.

8PM - Moon - $30

E Tū Musicians' Union Presents: Louder Together!

Featuring three epic local acts: THE HECTET, FINE WINE SOCIAL CLUB, and GRAINS. Hear from local MP Tamatha Paul, Councillor Teri O'Neill, union activists and more.

7PM - Rogue & Vagabond - $11

24 Hour Party People

What else is there to say?

If you haven’t experienced 24 Hour Party People yet, you’re missing out on a crucial chunk of the Wellington experience. Imagine a club where they only play shit you actually FW. Sincerely, the editor.

Bojack Funkman MOON Songwriter Showcase

Fronted by Ben Hunt, Kaito Walley, and Eilish Wilson (aka the Horn Section of Doom) along with an allstar cast of rhythm section virtuosos, this crossover episode brings together Lettuce, Takuya Kuroda, Ezra Collective, and some hometown bangers. Stay home? Neigh way, José!

Moon’s classic showcase in its 102nd iteration, featuring Burgin, Kerr & Norman, Danica Bryant, Cindy Muggeridge, and Noah Martin

8PM - San Fran - $15

9:30 - Rogue & VagabondFREE (Koha Appreciated)

6PM - MOON - $10

Dear Salient,

I am writing to oppose the inclusion of Matty B on the unofficial worst landlords list and want to see him stricken off. I have been a tenant in a house managed by Matty, and I feel what was written is a deeply unfair misrepresentation. I am writing to correct the record.

Firstly, it’s untrue that Matty owns property in Kelburn. Matty manages properties voluntarily for charitable organisations and is by no means some profiteering landlord. Secondly, the properties Matty looks after are either of average or good quality by New Zealand standards and generously below market rate, specifically to make student accommodation affordable.

I lived for four years in one such house, and Matty has been an excellent manager to me and the approximately 50 other people who lived in these houses over the years, barring this one individual. Communication was fast and understanding, contractors came quickly to fix problems, and Matty was always happy to listen and help. Having talked to many of the other tenants from the past five years, we were horrified to see our former property manager included. It seems either the complaining tenant is an outlier who is not above spreading borderline defamatory falsehoods, or Salient has grossly overexaggerated the complaints.

To conclude: Strike Matty B off the list. Otherwise, Salient is relying on misrepresentation for a juicy story. I have admired and written for Salient over the years, and I would hope Salient is above such sensationalism.

Regards,

CONTENT TENANT.

KIA ORA SALIENT TEAM,

i just wanted to flick an email your way to say how much i enjoyed reading issue 8: te tiriti o waitangi. though i was born & raised in aotearoa new zealand (tangata tiriti) i haven’t really felt a connection or link to Māori culture since primary school, honestly, as my high school in auckland didn’t make it part of the curriculum past year 9.

this issue was fantastic in bringing so many perspectives to the concept of te tiriti, as well as providing a really solid history lesson for those who needed it (me), and i really feel like i’ve gained so much from it!!! i also find the te ao māori sections in each issue great in this regard, especially in providing more depth to the culture and history of this country i call my home.

just wanted to say keep up the great work, and thanks so much for this issue!!

ngā mihi

By Dan Moskovitz

VUWSA to campaign on more job opportunities for students

In what will surely come as breaking news to all, getting a job in Wellington is downright difficult. As a student, even more so. So VUWSA is campaigning for it to be easier.

People aged 15-24 have borne the brunt of the economy’s contraction, with most job losses hitting this group. Add an additional 10 thousand public servants also vying for the same roles which graduates are shooting for, and it’s a downright bleak time to be job hunting. Or to have expenses in general, to be honest.

VUWSA are aware of this too, both due to being humans in Wellington but also via their own research. A recent survey at Pipitea found most third years were apathetic to the idea of working in Wellington or already considering moving to Australia.

Thus, spearheaded by Engagement Vice-President Aidan Donoghue, VUWSA has launched its “Where’s The Work?” campaign.

“The Where’s The Work campaign is really about putting pressure on decision-makers, particularly

within the public service and local Wellington business owners to invest in our students' futures,” says Donoghue.

“We want to encourage and spotlight local businesses that are willing to invest in our students and pay a living wage. So we’re more than happy to partner with local businesses which are willing to champion well-paid student employment.”

“We also want to do more performative types of actions. We intend to walk to the airport - bags in hand - to show how everyone will go if there isn’t more investment in students.”

Donoghue, like everyone in the city, has a story here. While he’s been lucky enough to have work throughout his studies, his partner was let go from her job last year. Like much of the city, constant job searching has yielded no results.

But the economy is its own nebulous thing, which rarely bends to the whims of anyone, politician or not. Is that something you can really campaign against?

When asked, Donoghue points out the election in 18 months. By campaigning on the lack of graduate investment in the public service now, they’re bringing the issue to the forefront.

Government data, obtained via Written Parliamentary Questions, shows that graduate roles have dropped by around 14% since 2023. Government agencies were instructed to make cost savings of 6.5%.

“We want to challenge all major and minor parties to hear what they’re going to do about this,” says Donoghue. “We’re more than happy to be pragmatic, but we want to see something happen rather than continuing the status quo.

“Public investment in universities is just going to Australia. All we’re doing is investing in Australia’s working market. If we want to be competitive with Australia, we need to have competitive jobs, competitive conditions, and fair pay.”

VUWSA intends to cap the campaign off by handing a petition to parliament.

Law Faculty Takes Students by Surprise, Exams to Be Handwritten

Law students were taken aback after law faculty dean Geoff McClay informed them that mid-year exams for the courses LAWS312 Equity and LAWS334 Ethics, which are both mandatory, would be handwritten only. In the announcement, McClay said he had become increasingly worried about the embedding of AI in many students’ laptops. It appears that the law faculty failed to have sufficient invigilation (anti-cheat) software prepared and ready to go for the exams. “I had hoped that the university would have a technical solution, which is now very unlikely,” said McClay. Provost Professor Bryony James told Salient that for now, “students’ handwriting their exams means the university can be confident the results truly reflect the students' own knowledge and effort—free of any suggestion of the influence of AI”.

Exam timetables have also yet to be announced for law students, highlighting possible disorganisation within the faculty and adding to the confusion. The faculty “hopes” to have adequate invigilation systems in place for the end-of-year assessment period. This all relies on the university finding an “IT fix”. Because the two courses are externally regulated by the Council of Legal Education (CLE), which decides if law programmes are robust enough to allow students to practice in New Zealand, the CLE has to be certain that students deserve a pass, contributing to the faculty’s decision.

In a statement put out by the Victoria University of Wellington Law Students’ Society, they said they had been advocating for better invigilation software for some time and expressed students’ strong preference for typed exams to reflect their eventual professional lives.

“Once it became clear that the faculty felt they needed to proceed with handwritten exams we emphasised that students should be informed as early as possible, accessibility options should be made clear, and exam content and timing should reflect the fact that many students have not done handwritten exams since high school” read the statement.

One of the major concerns raised following the announcement is the impact the decision will have on disabled students. Speaking to Salient, Hope Cotton, Co-President of the VUW Disabled Students Association (VUWDSA), said that whilst she understood the validity of the concerns surrounding AI, the VUWDSA was disappointed by the actions of the law faculty. “The banning of laptops in exams will create a bureaucratic nightmare for our disabled students,” said Cotton. “The faculty has stated there will be exceptions, but disability services are already understaffed and under the pump. The deadline for accessibility arrangements is fast approaching, and law students will be scrambling to ensure they can complete their exams”. Cotton says this is simply not good enough. “All our students should have the

opportunity to complete their exams to the best of their ability”.

Professor Bryony James ensured Salient that no student would be disadvantaged by the change. “We are committed to working with students, including those with disabilities, who may need further support to participate in exams and final assessments as a result of this change”.

VUWSA president Liban Ali, says the faculty waited until the last minute to make a decision. “If they were going to change to pen and paper exams, it should’ve been done earlier, and their should have been more software options available”.

When asked if the university was ripping off students due to its disorganisation, Ali said that students weren’t being ripped off, but misled. “I’m pissed off that students have been caught off guard with four weeks to go until exams”. The President said situation was impacting a lot of disabled students who study law and demanded more transparency from the university. Salient asked what support VUWSA can offer law students, especially those with a disability. Liban says students can find support through VUWSA’s advocacy services. Through the advocacy service, students can receive free and independent counsel when taking concerns to the university. Ali says advocates are directly focused on helping students through the coming weeks.

Will Irvine (he/him)

OPINION:

Students Left Confused and Disoriented After Being Asked to

Leave University

On May 1st, as we went to print on our most recent issue, Metservice issued an emergency “red” wind warning. The University immediately sprung into action, cancelling all classes and instructing students to leave most of the University’s buildings. As we watched from our delightfully heated Salient office, hundreds upon hundreds of students made the brave trek home through extreme winds, as buses filled up with huddled masses.

Some students, though, feel that the University’s communication during the storm left something to be desired. After one student wrote in to Salient, expressing that they were blindsided by the rapid closing of the Kelburn Library (Rankine Brown Building), we decided to

ask our social media following for their thoughts. One reader told us that the late release of a text was particularly frustrating, as not all students had access or were looking at their emails during the period -- “Absolutely useless, in my humble opinion”. Another told us that they “had to awkwardly tell my lecturer that we were closed”.

The problem isn’t that the University didn’t provide spaces for students to go -- it did, most notably in Nga Mokopuna and The Bubble. But for many students, these announcements were not clearly communicated, especially by security staff in the library, who students say simply asked them to leave the building as soon as possible.

It’s also unclear why the library, clearly one of the University’s biggest and most populated buildings, was deemed unsafe for students. Many students, especially those who live in more remote suburbs with less clear bus routes, were forced to endure unsafe conditions that Metsafe explicitly advised against going out in. The question remains -- would students have been better off sheltering in place? And if so, why were they not given more guidance on how to?

The University has not yet responded to Salient’s request for comment, so this story will remain ongoing until we are able to fully understand what took place internally that day. Until then, stay tuned.

OPINION: Is there such a thing as too many cookies?

Recently Salient ran an ad for the Cookie Time Christmas Cookie Sellers initiative, and I felt the call to action. The call to prevent other foolish youths from making the same mistake I know others did.

The ad for Cookie Time Christmas Sellers quotes the average earnings figure of $13,196 “(before tax and business expenses)”. The model runs pretty simply. Cookie Time allocates you an area of Wellington to sell your cookies in, and gives you a certain number of buckets of Christmas Cookies. You do a mix of “quick selling” (standing on the street with your stall), and trying to land bigger deals by talking to various businesses to see if they want to buy any.

But here’s the catch. Those “business expenses” include a

pretty large asterix. Cookie Time gives you a sizable pile of buckets, and every bucket you don’t sell by the end of the two-month period, you have to buy back at retail price. Cookie Time keeps the majority of money from every sale.

One anonymous person who I spoke to said they only made about $10,000 split between them and their sister, and that to do it they ended up being out selling most days across the entire holiday period.

And you can only find this information out by talking to previous sellers. I went as far through the application process as I could, and had little success finding any information about the job. The actual concrete details of what you’re signing up

to are hidden behind a form on the Cookie Time website that effectively acts as a CV. Until I’d get a contract sent over, I can’t get any of these details, and by that point, it’s realistically too late to back out.

The whole process of being a seller is built around catching and keeping young entrepreneurs, lured with the promise of an even better performance the next year with your newfound experience.

There is absolutely such a thing as too many Cookies. Unless you want boxes and boxes of Cookie Time Christmas Buckets, please, don’t sign up to sell them over this Christmas. Spend some time with your family instead. Grandma’s cookies are better, I guarantee it.

UC Security Injures Students Protesting “Armament” Investments

Protestors who rallied outside of UC vice chancellor Cheryl de la Rey’s office on the 1st of the month left with bruises, concussions, and even a broken bone, according to Peace Action Ōtautahi (PAŌ). The group, alongside Students for Justice in Palestine, had organised a peaceful protest with a single demand, an opportunity to speak with the vice chancellor. However, their efforts were met with violence from the university’s security, who tried to forcibly keep students out of the office building which is normally open to students.

Students had begun the protest at the library, before heading over to the staff building, where they found the entrance blocked by campus security guards. A video of the incident posted to the organiser’s Instagram shows a steady stream of protestors wearing keffiyehs and carrying Palestinian flags enter the building, as security guards tried to keep the foyer doors closed.

As protestors made it inside, security began to psychically target the attendees, grabbing and throwing them to the ground or against the wall of the building. In the video a student can be seen

shoved to the ground and held by the scruff of his jumper, while others are pulled from the doors.

In what protestor Bruce Mcaulay describes as a “scare tactic”, UC staff, accompanied by police, eventually arrived at the protest telling the protestors that they would have to hand over their student ID cards or leave.

The protest was sparked by a lack of communication from UC over their $330,040 investment in “armaments”, which is 0.23% of the university’s total investment portfolio. The investments were revealed in an internal report discovered by PAŌ through an Official Information Act request.

The report notes that “armaments” does not necessarily refer to weapons manufacture, as the category of investments can include civil aerospace manufacturers. However, as PAŌ points out in a statement, the fourth largest weapons manufacturer, Boeing, is considered a civil aerospace manufacturer. PAŌ is demanding to know specifically which armament companies the fund is invested in.

PAŌ is also concerned with the finding that $162,000 of UC

funds are invested in companies with links to Israel. According to the report, the companies are in the cybersecurity and software industry, and are not necessarily Israeli owned, but trade in the country.

When Salient questioned UC on any plans to release details of the investments, we were stonewalled with a generic media statement that did not address transparency concerns. Similarly, UC did not respond to any questions on the behaviour of security staff at the protest and made the claim that the university “supports the right of students and staff to engage in lawful and peaceful protest”.

However, Jackson Duguid, a regular at PAŌ protests, has some optimism. He told Salient, “from what they've told us outwardly there is an effort and a commitment to making the change.” Jackson hopes for more transparency from the university on which companies are being invested in and expects more protests to come, “we've got commitment for change, let's make sure that we can keep this movement going and make sure it actually happens.”

By Darcy Lawrey (he/him)

Generative AI is here to stay. The university recognises this, unveiling its AI policy earlier this year.

However, chances are this is the first time you’ve heard of it. The same was true for me; my chat with VUWSA’s Academic VP Ethan Rogacion was the first time I became aware of the policy.

Basically, the university states that you can work with ChatGPT (or another AI) as if it were your friend. But just as you can’t pass off your friend’s work as your own, neither can you claim an AI’s work as yours.

Issue is, individual course coordinators have a lot of leeway on how lenient they are with AI use, meaning policy isn’t standardized, which is part of what Rogacion is working on.

“What this means is that across the university, there are differing levels of acceptability of AI, and it really depends both course by course and faculty by faculty,” says Rogacion.

“We’ve seen some schools where lecturers have said no AI use is acceptable at all, while others are being a lot more pragmatic.”

Rogacion says he’s working on ensuring students know the course coordinator has to lay out the course’s expectations regarding AI. If they don't, students have much more of a case when it comes to academic integrity issues.

In addition, Rogacion is working with the academic office to have practical, pragmatic, and accessible guidelines for students regarding AI.

By Dan Moskovitz

Whakataukī o te wiki/Proverb of the week: Whatungarongaro te tangata, toitū te whenua People come and go, but the land still remains.

Toitū te Moana - Hapū across the country fight against Fast Track applications

Kua tūtū te pūehu ki ngā tōpito maha o te motu nei i te whakaputanga o ngā tono mā ngā kaupapa whakahaere hei tā te ture Fast-Track, inā hoki ki ngā wāhi o Taranaki, me te whanga o Waipiro ki Te Pēwhairangi.

Ko tā Taranaki raru ko te hia o tētahi kamupene nō te Whenua Moemoeā kia hukea te takutai o Taranaki, ā, nā rātou i tono atu ki te kāwanatanga kia whakaae ai rātou ki ēnei mahi. Kua roa te wā e pakanga ā kōti ana te kamupene nei, a Trans-Tasman Resources, ki ngā iwi o tērā rohe, ā, nā te ture Fast-Track i wehe i ngā mahi kōti kia whai i te ara Fast-Track. E hia ana a TTR kia hukea i te onepū o te takutai o Pātea kia unuhia ngā kohuke, nā, ka whakahokia te toenga o te one ki te moana, whakatūkino ai ngā tamariki a Tangaroa.

Hei tā te whanga o Waipiro, kua tono atu a Hopper Developments rātou ko Azuya Property Limited ki te kāwanatanga i raro i te ture Fast-Track kia whakatū he tumu herenga waka ki reira me te 250 wāhi ūnga. E whakahē marika ana ngā hapū o reira, a Ngāti Kuta rātou ko Patukeha, ki ēnei mahi. E mea ana rātou kāhore anō tēnei ture i te whai whakaaro tika ki ngā āhuahanga o te taiao, ā, i ngā hapū o te iwi Māori anō hoki. He take nui anō tēnei mō ngā mana whenua i te mea he wāhi tapu te whanga o Waipiro, i tapaina i te piro o ngā tūpāpaku i te mea ko ngā ana o reira te wāhi nehu o ā rātou tūpuna.

Tērā te kōrero o Shirley Hakaraia, he ahi kā, “Mō ake tonu atu, ka whawhai tonu mātou.”

In Ōpunake, hundreds of Taranaki community members stood together, their message clear, layed out with surfboards on the beach: NO SEABED MINING! Trans-Tasman Resources, an Australian company which has attempted for years to gain consent to mine iron sands in South Taranaki, and is now seeking permission from the government to do so under the fast-track legislation. TTR has already been approved to mine 50 million tonnes of sand a year for 35 years to extract minerals such as iron from the seabed. The issue is that they cannot go ahead with the project without consent to dump 45 million tonnes of leftover sand back into the moana. Although they claim to provide an economic boost for the Taranaki area, the hapū of Taranaki as well as other concerned groups reject this project altogether with the main concern being the environmental damage to the moana. This includes superfine sediment discharge from the mining drifting out and fatally affecting sea life.

In Te Pēwhairangi (Bay of Islands), local hapū Ngāti Kura and Patukeha are rejecting an application made by Hopper Developments and Azuya Property Limited under the Fast-Track legislation. They want to build a 250 berth marina in Waipiro Bay, which local hapū say will cause irreparable damage to the area. In an interview with Te Ao Māori News, local hapū member Kohu Atatu Hakaraia said that fast-track legislation is an unknown beast, which does not adequately consider environmental impacts. Another reason that local hapū are opposing this application is that parts of the area are considered to be wāhi tapu (sacred sites). The name of Waipiro is derived from the caves in which their tūpuna laid their deceased to rest.

Shrek: Kātahi te Korokē, Kātahi te Kiriata nei!

I ngā wiki kua hipa i takahia a Shrek: Kātahi te Korokē i te mata o te whenua, mai te Tai Tokerau ki te Tai Tonga. Ko tēnei kiriata rongonui nā DreamWorks Animation kua hautū e te rōpu rā a Māoriland Productions. Ko Tainui Stephens te kaitohu, ā, ko Maaka Pōhatu a Shrek, ko Te Puaheiri Snowden a Donkey, ko Tuakoi Ohia a Princess Fiona, ā, ko Jeremy Tātere MacLeod a Lord Farquaad. I hua mai tēnei kaupapa i tā ngā rangatahi o Ōtaki pātai ai ki a Māoriland kia whakamāori i tēnei kiriata. Nā, i toro atu te kairarahi o Māoriland, a Libby Hakaraia, ki a Scott McCarthy, te tumuaki tautoko o te peka o DreamWorks e aro ana ki te panonitanga ā-reo. Nāna i whakaae kia tū ai te whakamāoritanga a Shrek, ā, ka whānau mai te kaupapa nei. Ko ngā kiriata e hia ana a Māoriland Productions kia whakamāori, ko Shrek 2, Kung Fu Panda, ā, ko How to Train Your Dragon anō hoki.

Over the past few weeks, Shrek: Kātahi te Korokē – the reo Māori dub of the classic film Shrek has made its debut and its rounds across the country. This iconic film by DreamWorks Animation was produced by Māoriland Production, a Māori film production company championing indigenous storytelling. Shrek: Kātahi te Korokē is directed by Tainui Stephens, with Shrek, Donkey, Princess Fiona, and Lord Farquaad being voiced by Maaka Pohatu, Te Puaheiri Snowden, and Tuakoi Ohia respectively. This project came about after rangatahi in Ōtaki, where Māoriland is based, asked the production company to dub Shrek in te Reo. Libby Hakaraia, head of Māoriland, reached out to Scott McCarthy, vice-prez of International Dubbing at DreamWorks, and got the green light to start this project. At a screening in Te Whanganui-ā-Tara, they announced their next projects include a reo Māori dub of Shrek 2, Kung Fu Panda, and, How to Train Your Dragon.

MPI Song of the week:

Hinemoana - Hirini Melbourne

A beautiful waiata about Hinemoana - the ocean personified.

Taipari Taua (she/they, Muriwhenua & Ngāpuhi)

Album Review: Te Whare Tīwekaweka

by Marlon Williams

Te Whare Tīwekaweka, or “the messy house” describes Marlon’s state of mind during the creation of this album. As he told Apple Music, “The seed of creativity can be very confusing until it turns into something, then things start to make their own mark on the world and the chaos gets put into some sort of orderly life. That speaks to that first inception of creativity that comes out of absolute disorder.”

Marlon is of Ngāi Tahu and Ngāi Tai whakapapa, and this album is the whakatinanatanga, or the embodiment of his long-held longing to sing in te reo Māori. He credits his friend, Kommi TamatiElliffe (stage name KOMMI), a reo Māori lecturer, songwriter, and rapper, in helping him with this project. KOMMI features heavily on the album in the beautiful songwriting, as well as lending their vocals in the chanty track Huri Te Whenua. Te Whare Tīwekaweka, is certain to be a classic, a tino taonga for any young Māori person, and a rangatira contribution overall to the world of waiata Māori.

E Māwehe Ana Au plays like a modern mōteatea, and with no instruments to fill the gaps of Marlon’s voice, the space in between feels as though it is filled by Te Kore, the void of potential.I see it as a sort of takutaku that opens the album, much like the tauparapara or maioha that leads whaikōrero, or a karanga when entering a marae. Just like the karanga negates negative energy and clears a path for manuhiri (guests) to enter a wharenui, E Māwehe Ana Au, calls you in and clears a path so that we, the listeners, may enter Te Whare Tīwekaweka.

Kei Te Mārama also plays like a mōteatea, through its heavy lamenting themes on the ending of a quite turbulent relationship. This folky rock track is great for contemplating the woeful and turbulent relationships in your own life, even if you can’t help but bang your head to the beat.

Aua atu rā – oh, the Roy Orbison of it all! This track is a retort of sorts to that one kīwaha that Pākehas love, “he waka eke noa,” meaning, “we’re all in this boat together.” Grappling with the communalism of te Ao Māori and his own individualistic disposition, Marlon describes being on a sinking waka by himself, the outrigger breaking off and carried away.

Me Uaua Kē is one of my personal favourites, I particularly love the synth that trails behind him throughout the track. Both Me Uaua Kē and Kōrero Māori are reminiscent of old Māori singing groups from the 80s such as Pātea Māori Club. Kōrero Māori is another personal favourite from the album. It’s such a fun, joyful, and free expression of te reo Māori and reminds me a lot of many a classic ngāhau song. The backing vocals make you feel as though you are in a wharekai and are being entertained by the haukāinga (people of the marae).

The guitars, Marlon’s soft vocals, and nature themes in Ko Tēnā Ua remind me of the late, great Hirini Melbourne. While Ko Tēnā Ua is a soft warbling, Marlon goes full wartime waltzy warbling in Whakameatia mai. It’s a classic ngāhau waltz that is reminiscent of old Māori Battalion songs, and reminds me in particular, of the Maniapoto Voices. It’s the kind of waiata that makes you want to get up and pull out an East Coast takahi. Kuru Pounamu is a Dobbyn-esque power anthem, and Kāhore He Manu E is a sorrowful piano piece with fellow NZ icon Lorde.

Rere Mai Ngā Rau, another favourite, is an upbeat earworm that will be sure to really stick to your neurons so that you have no choice but to listen to it at least 20 times to get it out. It’s a beautiful pop-rock track that uses the metaphor of the tree to describe the relationship between generations. Grandparents are the pool of water that feed the roots, which then grow into the trunk, who are perhaps the parents, who grow branches – the mokopuna – that then grow leaves and bear fruit. This may also be referenced to the saying that it takes one generation to lose a language, and 3 to get it back.

Overall, the album is a classic Marlon Williams – all swooning, crooning, warbling, and serenading. This was his exact intention, “I just wanted it to be a Marlon Williams record that happened to be in Māori. Marlon is often referred to as the Māori Elvis, the Māori Leonard Cohen. If anything I’d argue that this album makes him a Māori Lorde of sorts, as it is bound to be a tino taonga (treasure) in the lives of many young Māori navigating love and loss, as well as their own Māori identity.

Putting the comparisons aside, what truly makes this album is Marlon’s own reo - reo meaning voice as well as the Māori language. There is nobody in the mainstream quite like Marlon, and nobody in the reo Māori space who is like him. If I were to take us back to the whakapapa tree metaphor, the realm of atua are the puna (pool) that sustain the roots of which our reo comes from. The trunk represents our tūpuna, who grew us, the branches. No matter how much colonisation has tried to cut off our branches, we kept growing. No matter how much Marlon sings about being on his own waka, he is a branch of this movement and this album is another beautiful leaf that he has grown that will sustain more generations of trees to come.

Nā Taipari Taua (she/they, Muriwhenua & Ngāpuhi)

The first week of every term at kura was spent at one of the marae in the Muriwhenua region, often the furthest north you can possibly go in the summer terms. There we learnt about the local hapū, ancient stories, key figures and landmarks, as well as natural features of that place.

Mum also regularly took us to our marae, our moana, our awa, and our maunga. She and a few other aunties and uncles eventually set up a mahinga kai (communal garden) across the road from our marae. Led by the maramataka, it grew from a heap of saplings to big mounds full of veggies, tall banana trees, metres and metres of kūmara and kamokamo. I can’t say I enjoyed being forced to pull weeds, wheel dirt and compost around, constantly refill heavy watering cans to feed the produce, and the tons of other work my mum had me doing for hours upon hours. I also, however, cannot say that I totally regret it, as I am able to say that I know how to plant, nurture, and harvest kai from my own whenua. I also understand that it was a part of my role in feeding the ahikā, in keeping the home fires burning. Ko au te ahikā, ko te ahikā ko au.

Kaitiakitanga, being a protector, is serious mahi because there are real things my whenua need protection from. A day-to-day issue back home is people being stupid at the beach. This could be people doing burnouts in the sand and ruining the sandbed and endangering the creatures within, people littering, people parking their cars on sand dunes that are tapu and have endangered plant life. My mum always set an example, showing me how to assert our rangatiratanga in protecting our land. I used to feel very anxious whenever mum would pull the car over to give someone a growling, never embarrassed though. Looking back on these times I always feel proud remembering my mum standing up to someone, or even groups of people, explaining to them what the tikanga of our whenua is and our priorities in protecting the taiao.

When a local landowner tried to plough his way through sacred sand dunes where the bones of our ancestors lay at rest, she parked her little Toyota Platz in front of his digger to stop him. He was adamant on ploughing through though, and the situation escalated to a successful full on hapū occupation of the area that lasted over a month, which she and my aunties led.

Since I was in her kōpū, she’s sung waiata to me, she’d kōrero to me, she’s taken me to protests – in fact, one of the photos around this piece is of me in 2008 at an occupation up home in Rangiputa! She’s the most badass staunch person I know, she is the example of expressing our mana motuhake, and I’m proud to have learnt everything I know about kaitiakitanga from her. Ko koe te whenua, ko te whenua ko koe.

It’s hard being so far away from home, living on the head of the fish instead of the tail. My relationship with my whenua now that I am away from home has completely changed. I miss being enveloped by ngahere, I miss swimming in my moana. I miss out on marae hui and I miss out on my cousin’s birthdays. While Te Whanganui-ā-Tara is my home and I love living here, it is not my ūkaipō, my tūrangawaewae, my kāinga. My mum always makes me promise to come home when I finish my degree, and I do. In the meantime I remind myself that I am a tangata whenua. I arrived in this world with my whenua, and to the whenua I will return.

DECOLONISING THE LABCOAT

The integration of Māoritanga and Science

The scientific method, as it is commonly taught and practiced, promotes a binary worldview where information is either valid or invalid, true or false, alive or not. These rigid categories often exclude indigenous knowledge systems, which embrace a more relational and reflective approach to understanding the environment. Mātauranga Māori teaches us that we are not separate from nature, we are part of it. We whakapapa to the land, to Te Taiao. For example, Maramataka reflects a deep understanding of environmental patterns, planting, fishing, and harvesting guided not by chance, but by observation of lunar phases, tides, and seasonal shifts. This is data collection over generations, recorded through experience and kōrero rather than written documentation. It shows that our science is embedded in our relationships with the whenua.

Ko au te Taiao, Ko te Taiao ko au. I am the Earth, and the Earth is me

Our role is to be kaitiaki, to protect and care for the whenua that gives us life. This connection goes beyond the physical, it is spiritual and ancestral. We, as Tangata Whenua, learn to respect the environment as if we are one. There is no separation between science and the stories passed down to us, they are one in the same. Our knowledge is exchanged through kōrero, not written and published in scholarly articles. Māori have always been curious people, using trial and error to explore how the world works, the only difference is that we record our findings differently. We keep them in everyday practices, passing ideas through stories from tīpuna to mokopuna, our actions reflect our knowledge.

However, Western science has often pushed these dimensions aside, elevating physical science while dismissing pūrākau and other forms of indigenous knowledge as ‘unscientific’. We have no gap in knowledge, just a gap in recognition. Our ancestral systems are still seen as ‘less than’, because they are rooted in whakapapa, kōrero and interconnection. Are our ways deemed lesser than because of who we are? Why does our knowledge not reach your standards? When we use different practices and methods but end up with the same results, but your ways are considered better, is it privilege?

To study science at university is an honour in its own way, to attend a university that attempts to respect our culture is inspiring. The very act of being in an institution that acknowledges Māori identity, language, and traditions is a step forward. But the question remains: are they doing all they can? As someone who grew up surrounded by Māori kaupapa, studying science felt, at times, like stepping into a space that existed separately from the ones I was raised in. There are efforts to represent our culture, we are mentioned in lectures, our ways presented on a screen, yet I can hear the chatter from the students around me: Why do we need to learn this? These are old ways, they are not practiced anymore? But that’s where they’re wrong. Our knowledge is alive and active. It’s just a matter of knowing where to look.

It’s in the way I carry homemade Kawakawa balm when I'm getting a cold, the same way you might carry a bottle of methanol. In many ways, rongoā Māori functions similarly to modern medicine, using plants like kawakawa, kūmarahou, and harakeke, plants with medicinal properties that western pharmacology is only just beginning to validate. The difference is that our tīpuna understood these healing properties long before they could be tested in labs. We have known how to use these plants because they have been used for generations. Yet, Western science did not recognise this knowledge until it could be put through its own framework of testing. It’s also in the way many know what to plant and harvest by the placement of the moon or the rise of the tide. How is this not deemed what you call ‘science’?

Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of working on projects where Mātauranga Māori was woven into scientific practice and Mana Whenua were actively consulted about the projects we were undertaking. In those spaces, labs and meeting rooms became more than just sites for testing and gathering data; they became spaces for listening, reflecting, and connecting. Science, for me, transformed from a process of merely collecting and evaluating information to one of collaboration and deeper understanding. The integration of Māoritanga and science opened up new possibilities, possibilities where indigenous voices were not just heard but actively shaped the way we engaged with the world of science. A world where our ancestral knowledge wasn’t just acknowledged, but practiced and brought to life. It was a world I felt proud to be a part of, one that reflected both my heritage and my commitment to science.

Mātauranga Māori creates a way of seeing the world that complements and strengthens scientific inquiry. Where Western science often seeks to isolate variables and measure outcomes, Mātauranga is grounded in connection, observation over generations, and a more holistic understanding of the natural world. Western Science and Putaiao Māori are not in conflict with each other, they are different ways of understanding our world. Weaving them together encourages a move away from narrow research to work that is more ethical, relational, and grounded in long term wellbeing of both people and the planet. Knowledge is not just found in data but within relationships, between people, species and whenua. This adaptive way of thinking can facilitate more sustainable decision-making, especially in a time of such global uncertainty within the science sector.

To truly weave together science and Mātauranga, we must honour those who came before us, the land we stand upon, and the interconnections that sustain us. Science must evolve into a space of inclusivity and reflection. Not as a rejection of Western science but as an expansion of what science can be. When both systems of knowledge are brought together, the outcomes can be powerful. We can create spaces and open doors for future scientists and researchers to connect and engage with the various views of the world. A space where we as Māori and anyone alike of where they whakapapa can wear the lab coat with pride, not as a symbol of assimilation, but as a reclamation of knowledge and guardianship. A reclamation of our Tīpuna.

Rebekah Tolhopf

It’s somewhat strange to think that not very long ago, Wellington was made up of low-lying swampland, hillsides swept with the red blooms of rātā, and streams threading down to the harbour. It’s difficult to visualise. For me, the Waimapihi and Te Kopahou Reserves are different. The ngahere is different. When far enough away that the city becomes something small and insignificant and mildly picturesque, it becomes easier to visualise what this place must once have been like. Way up there on top of a maunga, the scale and beauty of this region hits me. As I’m looking out over the lush bush and the mountainous valleys sprawling out to the ocean, I remember, Oh. This is why my tūpuna settled here. This is what they saw, this is the kind of place they lived.

I don’t come from the roar of Willis Street; I come from the quiet of the hills and the soft rush of the awa. Fragments of me are still here, bubbling away. I just have to search hard to find them between the cracks of the concrete surface. And search, I have. Lately, I’ve taken it upon myself to slow down, be more observant, and keep an eye out for places where artists have already attempted to uncover the mana whenua history of this area. If you pay attention to the footpath as you walk through Aro Valley, you’ll find blue niho taniwha patterns of triangles painted onto the road, accompanied by the words “Waimapihi Stream.” They’re there to remind you of the awa that now lies buried, flowing through underground pipes beneath the CBD. Another example sits between Lambton Quay and the Terrace, where upon walking into the Woodward Street pedestrian tunnel, you will be met by the unexpected sound of native birdsong and gently rushing water.

The sound installation commemorates the path of the Kumutoto Stream, which also runs beneath the concrete there. In fact, Wellington is full of solemn artistic odes that attempt to uncover what this city has buried.

Te Aro Park, more widely (dis)regarded as Pigeon Park, is the work of artist Shona Rapira Davies: marking the site of Te Aro pā, the ceramic tiles form the shape of waka. Nearby on Taranaki Street, when an old building was being demolished to make way for a shiny new apartment complex, remains of that very pā were found. Now, Te Aro Pā visitor site is preserved on the ground floor, where you can peer through the glass at these fragments of history.Or at least that’s what I’ve been told, but whenever I’ve walked past, it never seems to be open. Do I have impeccably bad scheduling? Are automatic doors allergic to me?

Please help.

Meanwhile in the Pipitea area, artists like Brett Graham and Ra Vincent have installed large-scale sculptural works to recall what was once the shoreline of a thriving pā and the mooring point of many a waka. In Civic Square, the City-to-Sea bridge itself is the work of artists Paratene Matchitt, Rewi Thompson and John Gray, depicting taniwha, birds, fish, whales, maunga, gateway poles, celestial pou, and the intertwining whakapapa of it all that creates the cultural significance of this location on the water’s edge. We walk all over history every day, but most of us don’t even look up to realise it. I guess that’s easy to do when your surroundings feel so anthropocene. But that drain cover you’re tapping your heel on while you wait for the light to turn green? That’s covering up a beautiful stream that my tūpuna used to gather pipi around.

‘Cause our history is still here. My history is still here. Yes, parts of it have been built on top of, turned invisible and made hard to find. There’s mamae in that. We deserve to be allowed to mourn that. But there’s also so much about Te Whanganui-a-Tara that is still beautiful. There are parts of this place that still feel a little bit like the home my tūpuna once saw. On top of the maunga, that southerly wind still rolls in. Auē! How chilling and how beautiful. And look at all those valleys! They’re surrounding me! They tower over that puny little city! Sheesh, didn’t realise how vast all this whenua was. Didn’t realise that I still have all this ngahere and land and ocean to embrace me, if only I manage to break out of my inner-city hall of residence and go re-seek it, re-find it, re-claim it. The world is wide. Bonkers concept, I know, but last year I really did feel like my world was confined to an urban cage. I’m trying to break away from that now. My answer is running away to the mountains; so far it’s working. Who knew I’d be doing day hikes? Me from one and a half years ago would’ve laughed her head off at that!

Existing in Unseen Spaces

Te Urukeiha Tuhua (He/Ia) (Tūhoe)

Back in my hometown, I would slip outside my house silently to go for nighttime walks. Mum didn’t like it and she said it wasn’t safe, but I’ve always felt safer in the dark. I become invisible. There were rarely any other people out, and few cars drove by. It was almost as though I was the only person left in the world, which was lonely, but it was a reprieve from constantly performing for other people. I am uncomfortable with being perceived, and I hate feeling as though people are watching or observing me. I would prefer to exist in a dark space, alone. I feel limited in the ways that I can exist and simply be when other people are near me.

In a society that places a lot of value on the way that we look, and our physical appearances are intrinsically connected to the way that people treat us, it is challenging to not constantly think about the way others view us. How could we not place so much value on the way that we look when it is ingrained in us to be hyper-aware of it? New insecurities are introduced everyday on Tiktok, each equally as nonsensical as the other. What on earth is ‘runner face’ and ‘leggings legs’? Social media encourages us to construct our identities for an audience, and rather than existing as myself I am adopting and taking on the opinions of other people. I crave being seen and understood, so I try to figure out which artist represents my personality and aesthetic the most: Mitski or Lana Del Rey? I go out thrifting, and instead of thinking about practicality and comfort I am thinking about what I should wear that will make me seem cool; perhaps a little mysterious. I am packaging myself up in a way that is pretty and presenting my identity in that way; but it makes me feel disconnected from who I truly am and what feels right to me. I spend too much time worrying about the appearance of my body and how to make myself attractive and desirable. Shaving different areas of myself even though it doesn’t feel right. I feel that I have to shape myself and conform to a standard that doesn’t come naturally to me, and always leaves me feeling inadequate. My own sexuality feels like a performance that is entirely centred around the wants of a man. He can think about his pleasure, and everything that we do will inevitably lead to him having an orgasm. Maybe I will have one too, but it is the secondary thought. It’s not a priority. A bonus, but not considered necessary. Because of this, I don’t even know what feels good to me. I haven’t thought about it, because I have never felt like what I want matters or is of any importance.

I know I’m not alone in this. Colonisation brought about a lot of shame surrounding sex, particularly for women and queer people. We often feel guilt around experiencing pleasure in our bodies and expressing what we want,

because we were told that the way that we do things is wrong. There is also a lot of pressure to conform to Western standards of beauty and ways of life. It can feel as though we must discard parts of our identity in order to be successful in life. When we try to mould ourselves differently to fit a standard that has never worked for us, we lose some of our own self-expression. It takes us away from who we are.

I venture outside and find a space where I am hidden from the eyes of other people. Thousands of stars are dotted around the sky, and even though I have seen it many times before I never cease to be amazed at the largeness of it all. I think about how the universe is not confined to a box. It expands and adapts and transforms, and I am a part of it, moving with it. I am a ballet dancer, and when I dance I become more than just my body. I am creating a presence on the stage, becoming larger than I am as I bound across the floor, lifting and lilting with grace. I think about the strength of my movements and how far I can leap. My arms mimic the patterns of the waves, pushing and resisting. I am no longer focusing on the way my body looks and I am not performing for anyone other than myself. Instead, I focus on how I feel. Connected to the world around me, the movements making me feel free and inhibited. For a moment I can shake away the pressure and expectations of existing for other people. Nobody watches, except for the moon.

Takatāpui is an identity that doesn’t make me feel as though I need to live up to anything. It doesn’t demand anything of me, and it makes it easier for me to believe that how I am right now is enough. It connects me to the land and tells me that I belong here. It encourages me to decolonise my own mind, to reconnect with myself and my culture. Slowly, I begin to trust what my body and intuitions are telling me about myself. Who I feel drawn towards, who I feel safe around. Who causes my heart to race and flutter like butterflies. I learn about the ways I can express myself that feel right and good, and don’t make me feel like I am trying to perform for an audience. Accepting that I am allowed to feel good and that I deserve to feel good can feel like a radical step; this is probably remnants of generational trauma of being shamed for the way we do things, but it’s hard to tell really. All I know is that it gets easier the more that I embrace my identity. It helps to go for those nighttime walks, although in a place like Pōneke it’s hard to find a place where nobody else is around. Maybe I’ll actually have to go for a proper bush walk.

About the Centrefold Artist:

Kia ora koutou, I’m Frankie, an artist who managed to create a pretty neat poster. Other than art, comics and stories, I’m in awe of the tremendous tree of life* and being holistically entwined with the Earth. I was pretty fucking pissed off, to find out most life is

under threat from a handful of oily bourgeoisie. Unsurprisingly there’s a bunch of spineless losers in “power” who’ll gladly lick those oily boots to get rich quick. What we can do is stick together, stand up and fight back. Here’s a small contribution to the green revolution.

Aries

You’re going to need to lock in. The whole ‘I can do it last minute’ thing is not going to work for you this week. Get organised, get busy, and do things ahead of time.

Cancer

Cancer Cry-babies, I’m not going to hold your hand when I say this: try stoicism. Maybe not everything is a reason to cry? Have a water off a duck’s back approach to things.

Libra

This is going to be a nice, chill week for some alone time. A nice time for rest and relaxation. Take a chill pill, and have some quality time with your own thoughts.

Capricorn

Everything you are manifesting and hoping for is going to happen. Romantically, financially, academically, socially. It’s going to be a nice week for you. Make the most of it!

Taurus

Things are rough right now. Bad grade? Bad date? Bad weekend? All I can say is keep at it and persevere. Don’t drop out because of one essay. You’ll get them next time, champ!

Leo

This is an unlucky week for you. Petrol is going to be even more expensive, you will have to wait at every traffic light and the train will have a bus replacement. Sorry.

Scorpio

It’s a nostalgia time. Re-read that favourite childhood book, talk to an old friend, look back on memories, Maybe it’s also time to get over that childhood fear of vegetables/heights/something else.

Aquarius

You’ve been listening to Stevie Nicks recently, and it shows. No judgement. You have a sense of lightness and freedom about you. Embrace your divine femininity; it’s bringing a nice joyfulness into your life.

Gemini

You’ll be better off if you have some sense of a routine. Get a bit of structure into your life. Act like you’re an Earth sign, instead of the classic Airy Fairy you are.

Virgo

Congratulations on your successful love life! This romantic pursuit is new and exciting, and most importantly, you align on your values and beliefs. Isn’t that lovely!

Sagittarius

Looks like you're a bit of a group leader right now. This can be helpful, but not this time. Consider taking a step back, to let people do things on their own.

Pisces

You’ve been working very hard. You’re managing a lot right now, and it’s taking its toll. But it’s also working. You may suffer from burn-out, but your grades aren’t. Maybe you know what you’re doing?

VUW FOUNDATION FAILS TO UPHOLD PLEDGE TO DIVEST FROM FOSSIL FUELS

It’s fair to say that things around the world aren’t going too well. Alongside a clear rise in militarization, facism, and authoritarianism, the climate system that supports the lives of everyone on Earth is starting to fall apart. Temperatures are continuing to rise, with the planet surpassing 1.5°C and our carbon based economies showing little sign of slowing down.

Fortunately, the Vice Chancellor of Te Herenga Waka announced in 2014 that the University had taken an “ethical investment stance” and pledged to divest up to $650,000 away from fossil fuels. It’s reassuring to see that a university which prides itself on political thinking, environmental studies, and even Antarctic research would be committed to mitigating their participation in one of the most destructive industries on the planet.

Over a decade later, the VUW Foundation has yet to put their money where their mouth is.

Early last year, in the absence of any divestment confirmation from VUW, we emailed the foundation to see if they had followed through with their promises. Unsurprisingly, they did not confirm any specific exclusions of fossil fuels, but pointed us towards their weakly-worded Statement of Investment Policy and Objectives, which states that their “preference is that there be no direct investment in… carbon emitting fossil fuels”. But does reality reflect their preferences?

Well, we were also provided with the Foundation’s current investment managers, one of which is branded as “sustainable”, yet its funds include companies such as ExxonMobil and Shell in its portfolio. Former VUWSA president Marcail Parkinson, who held a seat on the board, was also able to confirm firsthand that the university remains invested in fossil fuels.

The UN Secretary-General said in 2024 that fossil fuel companies are the “godfathers of climate chaos” and are causing “planetary destruction”, yet they continue to see record profits year upon year. For a university who runs marketing campaigns based upon “challenging injustice” and putting “people over planet”, having any money at all invested in climate criminals like ExxonMobil is disgraceful.

Around the world, dozens of universities have already divested from fossil fuels, including the University of Auckland and the University of Otago here in Aotearoa. Fossil Free UoA was a student-led movement that won their demands in 2019, with support from over 1.6K Facebook followers and 240 staff. Financial choices are ethical choices, and VUW needs to step up!

Last year at Te Herenga Waka, massive student pressure forced the Foundation to move their money away from Israeli government bonds. It has been done before and can be done again. Universities should be led by the values of their students. United, student power can prevail!

We are now calling on VUW to be transparent about the amount of fossil fuel investments that they currently hold, and to promptly divest this money as per their promise in 2014.

If reading this has left you feeling frustrated with our university’s hypocrisy and you’d like to take action, then make sure to sign our open letter to the VUW foundation and take part in some of our upcoming events!

For those of you who’d like to learn more about how to partici pate in hands-on activism, our direct action training workshop during the VUWSA Sustainability Week is perfect for you (Friday 23rd May, 2pm, SU229 MT Foyer). This can prepare you to take meaningful action for people and the planet.

We will also be hosting open discussions centred around climate justice on Fridays from 12:30pm to 1:30pm, in the Hub. This will be an opportunity to meet new people, share your thoughts, and just hangout!

To keep in the loop about upcoming direct actions, chuck us a follow on instagram @climateaction.vuw or email us at vuwclimateaction@gmail.com.

THE PERFECT STUDY BREAK

Take

memberships from

One of the privileges unique to living in Aotearoa is how safe our nature is. Aside from the very shy katipō (which hasn’t killed anyone since 1923), there are no truly dangerous animals in New Zealand. This is partially due to how Aotearoa, alongside Ireland, Iceland and some smaller islands, are one of the few countries on Earth with no snakes1

That hasn’t stopped the slippery specimens from trying to join the party, however. New Zealand catches a handful of snakes at the border each year, mostly hiding in pipes, furniture and other imported items. The Ministry for Primary Industries (MPI), which runs our biosecurity system, takes the threat very seriously.

It’s for good reason. Native mammals, reptiles, and birds in Florida have been decimated by an invasion of Burmese pythons. Closer to home, the naturally snake-free Pacific island of Guam lost all but two of its native bird species following an invasion of brown tree snakes.

So alongside 14 others, MPI snake handler Zoran Sinovcic leads Aotearoa’s defence. But in a nation with no native snakes, this begs the question: What does a snake handler in New Zealand do most of the time? And why become one in the first place?

“When I was a kid in Croatia I used to go around the edge of town to find a snake and catch it.

“There was one popular snake called the Bjelouška or European grass snake. If you played with a bit too much it would pretend to be a cobra, rear up and make sound. Which is interesting, because Europe has had no cobras for six and a half million years.

“Then I moved to slightly more dangerous snakes, like the European Horned Viper.”

For reference, the Horned Viper is the most dangerous snake in Europe.

These days, Sinovcic’s job rarely involves snakes, as he works elsewhere in the biosecurity department. MPI’s snake handlers are all staff from other areas skilled in snake handling, which requires two years of training in Australia.

So how do you safely catch a snake?

“You want to offer them some sort of shelter. When you place an empty bag in front of them, some will just go into the bag. You then use your snake-catching hook to pick up the bag safely.

“Whatever you do, you do with the least possible disturbance. The nature of the snake is that they're reclusive, not aggressive. So you have to keep conditions relaxed.”

Sinovcic says you always find a snake where you least expect it. One occasion saw some washing machines imported into New Zealand get through several stages of biosecurity, before people noticed the rope at the bottom of one machine wasn’t rope.

Aside from the Bjelouška, Sinovcic says his favourite snakes are the American Blue Racer and the African Boom Viper.

1Alright, technically we have a few (highly venomous) sea snakes, but they rarely come onto land. They’re also as shy as the katipō.

Dan Moskovitz

Hunter/Gatherer

Once again, I have looked upon Desire like the sun and they left a lavender bag of themself in my pillowcase. I stow my fears, bind them in cloth, and lie deep into early morning.

The sun rises: my body turns anew and my hands are ripe with fresh cherries, soft pink on my fingertips. I swallow your offering; your grip tightens. They sit in my throat like a foreign body meets an unforeign body.

The sun sets: my body turns anew and we become acts, entwined the way a coat would wear a jacket. My body has become something to give to you like a wildcat dragging prey to its den. For now, I am your modern-day Eucharist: you’ve always looked for a higher power to believe in. Your eyes worship, I ache. The night ends and I bind myself in cloth. Forgive me, your heart is prone to wanting; mine falters like a stopped clock.

The sun rises and I am already forgetting the one, the many. Desire’s hot hands trace my body, but I fear I have not missed their absence, their wanton, their hospitality. Forgive me, you grow lonesome in my absence; my body turns anew.

POETRY

Joshua Toumu’a (he/him)

Octopuses Holding Glow Sticks.

Scientists gave octopuses MDMA, just to see. You see, they hate each other. The octopuses, I mean. They just really, really hate each other (unless they’re fucking) (and then they go back to hating each other). And it’s not their fault. It’s not as though every individual octopus woke up and decided to be a misanthropic mass of tentacle and rubber skin. Their corally strings of fate simply lead them to a life of assured self sufficiency. (Aside from the fucking, sometimes.) Living this way, they have no reason to doubt the ocean floor belongs to them only them only them. And so the scientists said: Oi! Let’s change that! And pumped them full of rave candy. The poor things loved it.

POETRY

Kermit Winona

In the Middle of the Night

SHORT FICTION

Fariddy Yunis

It is four thirty in the morning, and I have just opened my eyes. No more sleep for me anymore. I cannot stop thinking about situations that happened to me during the day; I cannot stop praying and giving thanks for all that I have; I cannot stop seeing flashes of episodes that happened to me during the day.

I am thinking about how lucky newspaper editors are. They can write and publish anything that they want and anything that they are thinking about. For instance, the editor who wrote about her dilemma of how to keep fit in winter, or the editor who wrote about his love of seeing Te Mata Peak on his way home. I wish to be an editor. So I can write about my thoughts when I wake up in the middle of the night.

I am thinking about Paul. I think of the sensation I felt when he hugged me. It was a strange hug for me. What is a strange hug? Strange hugs are the hugs that happen when the energy of our bodies don’t know each other; or when the energy is not latent in our body. So the hug is a hug of the body, not of the soul.

The body is the one that wants to hug, but the soul and energy are not present. Some people might call this 'attraction’, and they are right. A 'no strange' hug is the attraction of the energy and the souls.

I also think about the word 'pretty' — when I told Paul that Mary Summer Rain said in her book that she knew she was ugly and always would be. I don't remember Paul's exact words, but I remember his smile saying something about pretty or ugly; I'm not sure what he said.

I am thinking about my first husband, who used to joke, “If you were as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside, you would be perfect.” We used to laugh when he said that. He probably meant that I was pretty. On the contrary, my friend Emilio, for years and years, kept telling me, “You are not only beautiful on the outside; you have the greatest beauty on the inside” — I believe Emilio probably doesn’t know me very well. He doesn’t know how fastidious I am, how complex I am, and how demanding I am.

Fastidious is a fascinating word. It is the first time I have used it. It is more Paul's word than mine. I learned two words from him: fastidious and cynicism. I knew they existed, but I hadn't heard people use them, and Paul uses them most of the time.

It's almost five in the morning, and I'm thinking about the upset lady I visited a few weeks ago. She was not angry with me; she was probably resentful with herself, and therefore with life. How frustrating it must be for her to see herself alone, unable to talk, unable to laugh, unable to walk, unable to prepare parties. She must see all the people who have to visit her as invaders of her privacy. People who don't care about her feelings. I know it is her choice in life to think and do what she wants, but what a miserable day, and another day she might live. Is that living or dying?

I am thinking about what I did when I left Paul in his house. I spent a few minutes watching some young boys playfighting – one boy pressing the other boy's head with his arm. Then, they were punching each other. I was unsure if they were playing. I assumed they were because they were smiling. I didn't like seeing them do that. It reminds me of the many fights I have seen in the streets of Lima. It reminds me of the terrible feelings I get in my body when I see people fighting.

After seeing the boys running and no longer fighting, I drove to the house of an elderly couple I met a few months ago. It was interesting the feeling I had when I met this couple. I thought they didn't like me, and that was a big mistake. I discovered that they enjoyed my company very much. Anyway, I visited them because I wanted to see them and see if they were well.

The couple was glad to see me; they said they had missed me. I missed them too. I offered to iron their clothes in the half hour of free time I had. I did. I wondered why I was doing this. I think of Paul's words... maybe to feel approval? Or maybe to feel good? I don't know. I only know that I like to do useful things for people to cheer them up. Well, I just read last night before I went to bed that if you want to lift your soul and be happy, start doing things for others. Maybe I'm just an egoist, visiting people who aren't expecting me and ironing their clothes! I don't know.

I wish to be an editor, so I can publish whatever comes to my mind in the middle of the night.

NATE MURRAY (he/him)

Hello!! My name is Nate, and I have the honour of being the junior designer for this wonderful student magazine. This year, I’m not only a fresh face at Salient, but also at the university itself. I’m in my first year of a Bachelor of Design Innovation, majoring in Communication Design, with my main goal being to blow up and then act like I don’t know nobody.

Op-Shops outside of the city

Part of my weekly-ish routine is catching the bus to Kilbirnie, Karori, or Petone, and scouting out the op-shops. Sure, the city has a few good options, but I find that the lesser-travelled spots are superior. No crazy prices, less people, less Depop warriors — and often it’s more fun to crate-dig through the racks than have everything readily-curated for you. Searching those city-centric curated stores makes second-hand shopping feel like something of a competitive sport rather than a fun, rewarding act of sustainability.

Coup de Main Zines

Goated independent Kiwi publication that does cute-as collab zines with your favourite musicians, actors, etc. Some of the coolest things plastered on my wall are thanks to CDM, and yes, this is my plea to them to let me work for them. Not much stuff comes out of this country that has been able to connect with some of this generation's most adored celebrities, but they have collabed with the likes of The 1975, Beabadoobee, Joe Keery, Paramore, and so many (para) more. These folks have been going strong for a few years, cultivating a fanbase of loyal fans that eagerly await every new release.

Lupe Fiasco’s Food & Liquor (Lupe Fiasco, 2006)

My favourite debut rap album of all time. An hour straight of the sexiest flows and quirkiest yet most thought-provoking bars I’ve ever heard. Listening to it makes me feel like I should be wearing OBEY or those big ass DC skateboarding shoes. With production credits from The Neptunes, (the old) Kanye West, and a feature from Jay-Z, Lupe manages to exemplify the feel-good energy that was ingrained in 2000’s hip-hop to a high standard. Fav tracks are ‘I Gotcha’, and ‘Just Might Be OK’. Also, check out his latest album ‘Samurai’, where the concept is based around if Amy Winehouse became a battle rapper. Insane stuff.

Black Lion Cafe

When I get tired of solitary confinement (Boulcott Hall), I take a trip down the road to this often quiet cafe, to get some work done and to grab an unneeded latte. The music they play almost always hits for me. I’m assuming they get the younger workers on playlist duties, and it seems to be working well. Unfortunately, their opening times are seemingly randomly generated as I’ve turned up many times only to see the place closed. Either way, grab a latte with a caramel shot and get on the grind.

The Great Outdoors

CROSSWORD: THE GREAT OUTDOORS The Great Outdoors

Across

2. Salient designer Ma

5. Level of wind warning experienced last week

Across

5. Level of wind warning experienced last week

9. New deputy PM at end of month

12. "Yellow" tree

9. New deputy PM at end of month

12. "Yellow" tree

13. Hitchcock film, or disorientation

14. Indigenous people of Alaska

15. Most popular baby name 2024, boys

16. Biggest night in fashion

17. Island prison in San Francisco

21. Salient designer Murray

23. Māori for forest

24. Greek Island of Sappho fame

26. Lover of Piggy

27. Kiwi slang for thick forest

30. Faculty that recently banned laptops in exams

32. Spider-Man with exaggerated swagger

34. Companion to roses in band name

36. Māori for the natural world

37. "I AM" ___, this fashion brand proclaims

38. High-flying cloud

41. Creatures explored in "Sinners"

43. Boycott, ______, and Sanction campaign

Down

1. Acronym for affordable housing opponent

Down

1. Acronym for affordable housing opponent

3. Departing Kiwi F1 driver; son of 30 across

4. Early US Settlers, or a prude

6. Cafe that hosts Salient Blind Date

7. Bookstore with yellow dot logo

8. Type of team to kill Bin Laden, or furry friend

10. Female version of hustler

11. Star born in 2018 movie

18. NZ City; rap musical

19. Cheeky local parrot

20. Something that a King or Jedi might do

22. Singer "cloned" according to popular theory

25. 4+4 = , according to Insta captions

28. English name for Welly Harbour's Matiu

29. Bird of the Year 2024

31. Māori for land, placenta

33. Franchise celebrated on May 4th

35. "Sea view" en Español; Welly suburb

37. Williams and Montgomery, NZ comedians

39. What you might find in Greenland

40. UK PM Starmer

42. Most popular baby name 2024, girls

Bolshie

UC Students Association complicit in assault on pro-Palestine students

On Friday, 2 May, UC Students for Justice in Palestine (UCSJP) and other pro-Palestine activists organised a rally and sit-in at the University of Canterbury. The students wanted a conversation with the Vice Chancellor after a long-awaited university report suggested it had invested around $330,000 in ‘armaments’, and that it was too difficult to determine if any were used in Israel’s genocide on Gaza and the West Bank. The sit-in was to be held in the Matariki building, normally open to students at any time.

Upon entering the building however, UC security guards started assaulting students. Footage shows the guards suddenly turning to grab protestors, wrestling the flags and signs from some and tackling others to their knees. Police received no complaints of assault from the guards, but this didn’t stop the university, police and students association ‘both-sides’-ing what police called a “melee”. According to the university, protestors entered a “secured staff work area”, somehow endangering them by sitting down a room over. The students association (UCSA) backed up the administration, claiming that by entering the building, protestors “no longer adhered to the agreed protocols and imposed significant health and safety risks.”

What a transgression: to step inside a building hundreds of students enter every day! Clearly those who broke “agreed protocols” deserved one broken arm and two concussions from headlocks, being sat on, and faces slammed against glass windows.

The real question isn’t who started it. Footage in the Stuff article on the incident shows no violence by the protestors. A more interesting question is why the UCSA was so quick to side with those beating up the students it represents. It even had the gall to counterpose the sit-in to “lawful” protest, and fob off “any student who was harmed” to student counselling. But in fact this slap in the face wasn’t unexpected.

Under Luc MacKay’s leadership, UCSA has repeatedly distanced itself from Palestine activism. For all its statements in support of students “right to protest” in

the abstract, it does nothing to back them up against actual threats to that right. It even reprimanded one university club making pro-Palestine statements for “failing to acknowledge the complexities of the conflict and…the trauma also faced by Israeli and Jewish students”, and ignored complaints of harassment and persecution of Palestine activists by security in the lead-up to the recent assaults.

Student Unions exist along a spectrum. At their worst, they see themselves as merely service providers, a place for future parliamentarians to playact politics before getting on the list, and another tool for the administration to manage student sentiments. Better ones can be made to act like a real union, standing up for students when they are mistreated, and amplifying the political causes they care about. Most are only a little better than the UCSA, but all can be improved only through constant pressure from students.

VUWSA has typically been more willing to take up leadership of pro-Palestine causes, but this hasn’t always been to their benefit. Both VUWSA and UCSA have historically taken the attitude that partnerships with administrations are the way forward for various causes. But these partnerships often serve to demobilise: channeling dissent into reviews, subcommittees, and negotiations. Administrations are experts in this. Many student unions and protest leaders go along for the ride.

UCSJP, the only campus group in Aotearoa to set up camp during last year’s global wave of campus occupations against the genocide, demonstrated a rather better understanding of change in doing so. Students don’t have any intrinsic bargaining power in negotiations with administrations, unless we make everyday operations inconvenient. Better yet, we can build alliances with staff able to withdraw their labour. Both methods bring us into conflict with university management when asking nicely fails. That conflict is inevitable, and if student unions don’t side with students, they should be called out as our opponents.

Bolshevik Club is a space for revolutionary students. Come find us at Red Lunch Hour, our regular discussion group, 12pm every Tuesday in the Hub (look for the banner), or get in touch at vuwbolshevikclub@gmail.com.

SOC 101

Byline:

VUW International Socialists / ISO

Near the Brazilian city of Belém, thousands of acres of protected Amazon rainforest are currently being cleared to make way for a new four-lane highway. The highway is being built to accommodate this year’s United Nations Climate Change Conference, COP30.

What makes this decision thinkable? In other words, how did we arrive at a place where “saving the planet” and shredding it, can so easily coincide?

Here’s one answer from Marx: metabolic rift.

It goes like this. Humans cannot exist separately from our environment, so cannot be considered separately. Closer even than members of the same family, humans and wider nature are of one ‘extended’ body—metabolic refers to the exchange between cells that keeps an organism alive.

In more concrete terms, this refers to a direct feedback loop between the land and those working on it. We change the world around us by ploughing soil, damming rivers, and building shelter, and the world changes us in return: providing rain, bringing tides, and growing pasture.

For most of human history, this mutual and intimate relationship had to be respected. If the land is the source of all food and resources, it must be protected for any chance of ongoing survival.

Capitalism, however, cleaves this connection. Instead of a reciprocal balance, it prioritises accumulation. Under this system, the land becomes an endless source of raw materials, a site for commodity production, and ringfenced as private property.

The rift in the metabolism, here, appears all over modern life. Communities are driven from their land through colonisation and enclosure—along with their material, cultural, and spiritual ties. As a result, we have a deepening divide between ‘nature’ and ‘culture’ (a word that literally comes from cultivating and preparing the land): a way of living and understanding the world, detached from the world.

It is within this context that a rainforest-clearing COP30 emerges, where the circuit of ecology and humanity has split so profoundly that it fails to communicate with itself.

The socialist response, then, is to re-centre our focus from consumption to production. What and how we buy isn’t irrelevant, but it only challenges the outcome, not the source of the problem. Living sustainably in a way that’s truly meaningful requires fighting for a sustainable system—from below, and immediately.

Contributing Writer

ABOUT US

Salient is published by, but remains editorially independent from, the Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association (VUWSA). Salient is funded in part by VUWSA through the Student Services Levy. Salient is a member of the Aotearoa Student Press Association (ASPA).

COMPLAINTS:

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Walter Zamalis

Fergus GoodallSmith News Writer

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