A politician at my table
The rising star of New Zealand politics recently fell to Earth in my town. In my kitchen, in fact. Earnest, intense, immensely likeable, Chloe Swarbrick sat sipping black coffee, no sugar, at my table and picking at a piece of cake in a brown paper bag.
How did she get here? I had no car the day she was visiting Nelson, but was keen for a natter. Could she come to me? She could.
‘‘The problems this country is facing are not new problems,’’ she said. ‘‘They’re the same problems a lot of other countries are facing, and there are clear solutions. It just requires more political willpower.’’
Swarbrick was giving some public talks alongside Nelson Greens candidate, Matt Lawrey, who had the good grace to bring me a slab of salmon quiche. I should clearly invite politicians to my house more often.
A former broadcaster with a law degree but no previous political experience, Swarbrick contested the Auckland mayoralty last year, coming third. The media banged on that she was only 22, which drove her mental. But I could see why. When I was 22, I was an idiot. I wanted intoxication, loud music, irresponsible sexual encounters, not piles of tedious reading material and months of windy argument in debating chambers.
After her mayoralty bid, Swarbrick was head-hunted by the Green Party, whose membership recently voted her No 9 on their party list. If the Greens retain their current level of support, she’s certain to win a seat at the upcoming election.
‘‘I’m stoked!’’ she said. ‘‘I’m really excited!’’
And she looked it, too, her piercing green eyes as big as coach lamps.
‘‘This is the kind of stuff I nerd out about. I studied law because I wanted to understand the issues I was critiquing as a journalist, and my previous BA was in philosophy, so I feel very well-equipped.’’
I’ll say. Swarbrick admits she reads Hansard Reports of political debates for, you know… fun.
‘‘Politics has its downsides, especially if you’re a woman. I’ve had every comment possible on my appearance, the way I dress, my sexuality, my family. People invent all sorts of horrible back-stories for me. It took a while to get accustomed to all the weird hate mail.’’
She just had to keep her mind on the bigger picture, she said.
‘‘People are ready for change, and the Greens want to help deliver that. And it’s important the public sees more young women getting involved in politics.’’
It was time to go; my Green visitors had an evening rally to prepare.
But it struck me I should do this again. It’s election year, and friendly dialogue is to be encouraged.
Perhaps the local Labour candidate might want to whip around next week with a filled roll?
I’m less inclined to instigate a lunch meeting with local National MP, Nick Smith, given the hash he’s made of the housing and environment portfolios.
But a man’s gotta eat. I might not invite him in for coffee, but I’d be quite prepared to shout ‘‘Thanks, Nick!’’ out the window if he slid a steak pie into my letterbox and drove away.
Perhaps the local Labour candidate might want to whip around next week with a filled roll?