Paradise lost a chance to revisit who ‘we’ are

Idon’t know about you but it has been a tough week. Crying at random moments. Sometimes, as we say, ‘‘crying for no reason’’. But of course we have so many reasons to cry right now. I find myself trying to hide the profound loss from myself at times, and then from others.

Struggling to process this loss means different things for different people. Why do we tend to hide our tears from ourselves and others? Extremes of emotion, some might say, even much of emotional expression, is not socially acceptable. Facing those feelings at times like this is looking into an abyss. The implications are vast.

None of us are immune to this pain, are we? And surely that is the point. As much as we try to hide our pain and anguish, we can’t. Our minds are designed to break the grief down into chunks: sorrow, anger, hopelessness, helplessness, washing back and forth like the tide. Sometimes there is a lull of emptiness, of numb, white, emotional silence. And then the next wave hits.

What this horror has forced us to do is to feel. And so feel we must, for our collective wellbeing. That shared heartopening pain after the terror attack in Christchurch is evidence of our humanity.

The sheer size and devastation of the event gives us licence to show our feelings and to share our grief. This is healthy. While we might still keep our deepest fearful moments at home, we are feeling compelled to share more and more of our real, raw emotion with each other.

And doesn’t it feel good to share a good snotty cry with people you haven’t met before? We are allowing those layers to be exposed. This is something we cannot avoid. We are all suddenly bonded because, like it or not, we are here, we are in this together. We are the ones who are going to get through this as best we can. We all bore witness to these most terrifying events.

It is one of those moments when we will look back and ask each other, ‘‘where were you?’’

‘‘This must not change who we are,’’ is a phrase I have heard a fair bit this week. This has sat heavy in my gut. I have a different view. I think this must change who ‘‘we’’ are. I don’t think we have much of a consistent shared view of who we are.

Who the bloody hell is ‘‘we’’ anyway? ‘‘We’’ as a country? If there is one positive to this horrifying event it is that we must examine who ‘‘we’’ are, much more critically – this idea that Nu Zild, the quarter-acre paradise, is some kind of utopia, a ‘‘great place to bring up kids’’.

This is, for many people, utter rubbish.

Exhibit A: we are a country where Muslims have been slighted, attacked, abused, and discriminated against for years, and attempts to bring this to the attention of our statutory bodies, our authorities, have not been taken seriously.

Exhibit B: we are a country with a long history of colonial atrocities, still not taught in our schools. History is a bitch – depending on who writes it, obviously.

Let’s look at that. Let’s get schooled by our history. Let’s teach it, let’s pass it on. This is one crucial way to build a more real understanding of who ‘‘we’’ actually are. This is essential if we are going to take full responsibility for becoming the ‘‘we’’ that works to ensure this kind of atrocity never happens again. Prevention, if you will.

Exhibit C: we are a country with people with extreme ideas. We are a country that has not been active in identifying, diminishing, or extinguishing these ideas. Sadly, March 15 is clear evidence of that.

However we identify ourselves now, with the tears comes the responsibility to develop into a stronger, more resilient ‘‘we’’. A ‘‘we’’ that can rip off the rose-tinted glasses.

The way ‘‘we’’ are, needs to change. We can no longer pretend that we are living in some kind of paradise. At the very least, we cannot turn away from recognising the many and variable experiences of being New Zealand citizens.

And that, for many, that identity does not mean safety, equity or freedom, in our own country. NZ identity is not one thing. And it hasn’t been for a long long time.

Child and adolescent psychiatrist Hinemoa Elder PhD is a Fellow of the Royal Australia NZ College of Psychiatrists, and Ma¯ ori strategic leader at Brain Research NZ.

Kotokoto ana i waikamo i te aroha komaingo noa ki te kura ka riro. Tears flow because of the great affection for the treasured ones no longer with us.