Being born white is its own reward – a scholarship of sorts
Last week, over dinner with people I didn’t know too well, there was a suggestion we hold hands and pray before the meal. This was followed by nervous atheist giggling on my part. In fact, I didn’t think anyone was serious until I realised my mitts were the only ones that remained unclasped.
As I reached out and wondered what cult I’d inadvertently joined, one of the blokes gave the most beautiful Te Reo blessings I’d heard.
I amone of the whitest people I know and admit I understood only about four words but it sounded so nice. It made me feel proud to come from a bicultural nation.
One hears a lot about the evils and perils of social media but Twitter is where I’ve picked up more Maori perspective and ‘friends’ than in my many years on Earth.
Earlier this month, an old school friend updated her Facebook page with a complaint about what she perceived as racism.
She said she was looking through the scholarship database at a university and was outraged at the number of ‘‘Maori only’’ awards.
‘‘How is it that they are allowed at all?!’’ she asked.
‘‘Isn’t that completely racist? I don’t see any Pakeha awards. I don’t get it!?’’
We both went to Christchurch Girls High School, as white a school roll-call as there can be.
In response to her post, there were plenty of people agreeing but through my whitey filter, I explained as best and nonconfrontationally as I could.
Being white is its own reward. It’s like a scholarship from the getgo.
Maori are chronically underrepresented in many areas like tertiary education and overrepresented in poverty, ill health, prison and crime statistics.
If education is one of the greatest tools for self and societal improvement, why is it a bad thing?
It’s hard to put yourself in another’s position, I get that. Seeing someone offered a prize you have no chance to obtain does seem unfair but take a historic and wider look.
The best I can explain is recalling a tour through the Beehive where the walls are adorned by paintings of old white men with beards. They were the ones who decided the rules therefore they were the ones who got the step up in life.
If that’s not a type of scholarship I don’t know what is.
I’ll bet my bottom dollar that old white men with beards weren’t thinking about Maori or women’s rights because they were, unsurprisingly, thinking from their own perspective.
People seem to complain far less about ‘‘women only’’ awards or support.
We should be happy to right historic wrongs. If encouraging Maori in education is a start then we should see it as enlightened not misread it as racist.
You can’t have it both ways. In one breath, I’ve heard people complain that Maori are dolebludgers but in the next complain when they take opportunities to improve or govern themselves.
Maybe I’ve listened to too much talkback radio but I feel as though people divide our indigenous population into ‘‘good Maori and bad Maori’’.
One of the most heart-opening things I’ve done this year was spend time at Te Matatini Kapa Haka festival in March. Even without some kid yelling, ‘‘Oh my god, there’s Maoris everywhere,’’ you could see it was so.
How uncomfortable and white I felt while so many people hugged and greeted each other. How nice for Maori to feel like a majority for a change.
Better yet, what can we learn from their old women? I’ve never seen so many golf carts ferrying older women to and fro. If you want to learn something about tenacity, have a yarn to an old Maori woman. They’ve got it in spades.
New Zealand’s race relations are far better than Australia’s and for that, I amproud. I hope it continues to improve.