Learning and earning
IT is tough being marginalised. It is tough being overlooked, underpaid and unappreciated. It is tough having to work twice as hard just to be recognised, then twice as hard again to make one’s mark. It’s tough at the bottom and on the fringes.
For many women, indigenous people, immigrants, LGBT people, the mentally unwell, the disabled, the young and the elderly, this is reality, however. It is a long slow road to the top — and many won’t come close.
They face an uphill battle to overcome prejudice and injustice, when all they want is the same status as others, the same freedoms, choices and opportunities, that means their hopes and dreams might be possible, too.
New Zealand is becoming increasingly diverse, and the change has happened quickly. Political parties are working hard to lead from the top — to show that their candidate selections, party lists and caucuses represent that diversity. The public needs to see people with whom they identify; it is a potential votewinner.
The Greens have always been upfront about diversity and equality — and their policies are implemented with little fanfare. (In terms of gender, they have named six women in the top 10 of their initial list for 2017.)
The National Party lineup is becoming increasingly diverse and each change to balance the numbers seems to attract positive press. (Its listranking process for the election is under way.) In stark contrast, the Labour Party’s attempts at balancing the ledger have often attracted controversy and ridicule — the worst of which comes from within its own ranks.
When the party tried to address the issue of gender imbalance in the leadup to the 2014 election, the accusations of a ‘‘man ban’’ prompted then leader David Shearer to put an end to the policy, calling it a ‘‘distraction’’ that most New Zealanders ‘‘don’t want to know about’’. Many of his MPs agreed.
This election year the policy has been reinstated. Labour has com mitted to at least 50% of MPs being women — although it has only named three women in the top 10 of its party list. (It is also increasing its representation of ethnic communities and Maori.)
Unsurprisingly, some highprofile male noses have been put out of joint. Newcomer Maori broadcaster Willie Jackson was the first to throw his toys out of the cot when he was named 21st on the list. He ticked one diversity box, but was below several new female faces. A ‘‘crisis meeting’’ was called, but he did not advance his cause.
This week it was the turn of Rohan Lord, Labour’s candidate for East Coast Bays. He was standing in a safe National seat, and ranked 72 on the party list, which he said sent a message from the party that ‘‘you’re probably not for us’’. ‘‘It’s difficult for people in my circumstance — I did feel like I had something to offer,’’ he said. ‘‘I’m white, middle class, male. I couldn’t really see a longterm future.’’ It’s an extraordinary comment surely seldom heard in New Zealand.
Mr Lord, a former Yachting New Zealand and London Olympics team manager, could have had a lot to give. He certainly had a lot to learn.
And that surely would have benefited him as he learned the political ropes — particularly as a Labour candidate. He could have learnt that many people have to start at the bottom and work their way up. They may be overlooked and underpaid and unappreciated in the process. He could have learnt about service above self (surely the reason for standing in the first place). He could have impressed the party and his community with his attitude and aptitude, earned respect and moved up the ladder. Instead, he threw in the towel at the first hurdle.
Mr Lord is fortunate his experience and contacts will likely open up other doors for him — as they did to the Labour fold in the first place. Not all get the same chance. That is why any attempts to balance the ledger are welcome.