Learning the power of good democracy from an early age
When I was about 10 my primary school decided to form a school council. Two students from each class were elected to discuss ways in which we could improve the school.
We worked out that more rubbish bins were needed but we didn’t have any real power. Had we passed a motion to replace maths with sport, I’m sure the principal would have rightfully vetoed it. But for a 10-year-old, it was fun to discuss school matters in an environment where students drove the discussion.
By the time I arrived at secondary school – surprise, surprise – I found myself elected to the student council. Discussions focussed on fundraising and preventing litter, yet again, but it was fun.
Yet over the next couple of years, we junior politicians found ourselves wanting to flex our muscles. At my school, like Jacinda Ardern’s, uniforms were a big issue.
The well-meaning principal knew that if he allowed uniforms to be abolished, he would be roasted by other school principals and the media. Yet after agitation from a number of us, he allowed a uniform referendum.
Most students wanted to get rid of the strict uniform with its white shirts for boys and archaic pleated skirts for girls, but many of us wouldn’t have minded a badge or some sort of garment that identified our school.
But the clever buggers who drafted the referendum only gave two options – total abolition or not. This made John Key’s flag referendum look positively democratic.
A slim majority of students voted against total abolition, though most favoured getting rid of large parts of the uniform. I learned a salutary lesson about referendum democracy – the person with the real power is the one designing the question.
My fellow students felt they had been duped so I, having seen Soweto school boycotts on TV, told them that if enough students refused to wear the uniform, there would be little the school could do about it (I often feel very sorry for my former teachers).
The idea caught on and the next day a large number of students – too many to punish – turned up in mufti.
As ringleader, I was dressed down by the principal and even the teacher who spoke in favour of abolishing uniforms chastised me for being ‘‘irresponsible’’. I predicted a big future for him in the Labour Party.
However, uniform restrictions were loosened. In my sixth form year, my best mate and I were both elected to the student council.
He became chairman and I became student representative on the board of governors because we agreed not to stand against each other, lacking the egos of more qualified senior students.
It was a great master class in manipulating FPP politics and prepared me well to understand dirty deals done under MMP.
Our public political activities – such as protesting en masse the actions of the Muldoon government – made our conservative principal wince, even though years later I discovered he heartily approved of our sentiments.
As a board representative, I learned that people with whom I shared little in common politically could be genuine, effective and work in everyone’s best interests. Hopefully, they learned from me that students can act responsibly, and should have a say in the running of their schools.
So when Ms She Who Can Do No Wrong, Jacinda Ardern – in between saying she would not decriminalise marijuana and effectively supporting Key’s tax cuts by promising not to raise the top tax rate – called for compulsory civics education in schools, I reflected on my own political education.
Labour’s idea of teaching voting and citizenship processes in schools is not a bad one. However, I suspect a far better path is for schools themselves to practise democracy.
Some do already, as mine did, but how can you expect a person who has never been given any real political power at school or home to suddenly behave in a democratic manner?
If their schooling has been authoritarian, where all decisions have been made by staff, where prefects have been appointed and there has been little political discourse, of course these new voters will turn to Trump-like authoritarian political figures that remind them of the strict teacher they had at school.
I learned a salutary lesson about referendum democracy – the person with the real power is the one designing the question.