Boot out one coaching way in game of two worlds
I’m not sure if I’m allowed to have a favourite All Black, but if I did, it would be Sonny Bill Williams. I admire him for his work and character both on and off the field. He has courage in his convictions, and he’s not afraid to speak his mind; even when doing so generates considerable backlash.
This week at a press conference, Williams raised the issue of Ma¯ori and Pasifika representation in the All Blacks coaching team, saying, “One thing I would probably put to New Zealand Rugby is it would be good to see a Pacific Islander or Ma¯ori in the coaching system who would have a bit of influence, because the way the game is going and is today, there’s a lot of Ma¯ori and Island boys that play for the All Blacks.
“I’m just thinking, how can we get a lot more out of those boys,” he continued. “I know there’s a bit of space there for that growth.”
And, predictably, a number of New Zealanders lost their rags. Williams was swiftly accused of “identity politics” as many clamoured to protest that coaching positions must go to those who are best for the job. Which, it bears mentioning, has always been and always will be, subjective.
Obviously, any member of the All Blacks coaching squad has to be world-class. That’s a prerequisite. The performance of the players and the team as a whole must be the coaches’ first priority, and they have to know how to get the best out of their athletes. But what if there was another way to improve performance, develop champion players and win more games?
In response to Williams’ suggestion, one social media dissenter posted, “What the heck does [race] have to do with it?” More than you might think. As Williams pointed out, there are a number of Ma¯ori and Pasifika players in the All Blacks. I can’t speak for Williams, but I believe he was making the fairly reasonable point that there may be other forms of development and inspiration that could work better for those players than the status quo.
Increasing Ma¯ori representation isn’t (or at least shouldn’t be) just a box-ticking exercise to meet diversity and inclusion targets. It’s a reflection of the fact that the Ma¯ori and Pa¯keha¯ worlds are not one and the same.
When you’ve grown up in Te Ao Pa¯keha¯ (the Pa¯keha¯ world), it can be hard to imagine that there’s another New Zealand that’s different to the one that you walk in. When you’re
Ma¯ori, however, unless you are completely out of contact with your iwi, you walk through life with one foot in each world. At any given time, the version of New Zealand that you experience depends on where you are and who you’re with.
When you’re at home with wha¯nau, out at a Matariki celebration, or on the marae, you exist in Te Ao Ma¯ori. When you go to the service station, the Santa Parade or the pharmacy, you exist in Te Ao Pa¯keha¯. The kawa and tikanga (protocols and customs) in each world are different, and sometimes opposite. Being Ma¯ori in 2019 New Zealand means having a passport to both worlds, and trying to figure out your place in each.
In some sectors, the differences between the Ma¯ori and Pa¯keha¯ worlds have been recognised. In health and education, for example, different frameworks and protocols are applied when working with tangata whenua. That’s not because one framework is better or worse than the other, it’s because, for Ma¯ori who are connected to their Ma¯oritanga (and it is important to note that there are some Ma¯ori — particularly some who have become urbanised across successive generations — who are not), Ma¯ori structures and methods can create better outcomes.
I heard a good example of this during a recent talk given by Children’s Commissioner Judge Andrew Becroft. One of Becroft’s slides showed a graph of academic achievement measured against school decile. He pointed out a cluster of low decile schools that buck the trend when it comes to academic achievement. These schools, while dealing with all of issues that come with poverty, still achieve highly against the same measures as mainstream schools. What did they have in common? They were Ma¯ori medium schools teaching Ma¯ori children in a Ma¯ori way.
There are countless other examples. Dr Mason Durie’s Te Whare Tapa Wha¯ model, for example, is used to better conceptualise Ma¯ori health and wellbeing, rather than relying on the ill-fitting Western biomedical and biopsychosocial models. Rangatahi Court sittings are held on marae and follow Ma¯ori cultural processes, and have been shown to reduce reoffending.
Given that Ma¯ori methods and frameworks can bring about positive impacts for Ma¯ori people, might Williams’ suggestion that “it would be good to see a Pacific Islander or Ma¯ori in the coaching system”, in order to “get a lot more out of ” Ma¯ori and Pasifika players not be so outlandish after all?
I doubt anyone is suggesting that the new coach of the All Blacks should be chosen simply because he is Ma¯ori or Pasifika, but with around half of the World Cup team being of Ma¯ori or Pacific Island descent, I think Williams has a point.
If a member of the All Blacks’ coaching squad (and let’s remember, there’s more than one coach guiding the team) was able to relate better to Ma¯ori and Pasifika players, and in turn improve their performance, surely that would be a positive.
Which is not to say that our Ma¯ori and Pasifika players aren’t already playing outstandingly. They are. Imagine, however, if they were even better than they are now. With international teams finally catching up to our long-standing world champion All Blacks, any opportunity to regain an edge should at least be considered.
Maybe Williams, who has lived and breathed All Blacks’ culture for years, might have some valuable insights to share.