Ah, the New Zealand Dream, a whimsical notion that’s a bit like the American Dream, but with fewer skyscrapers and more pirikahu fucking. Picture this: rolling green hills, mint as landscapes, and hobbits casually strolling down the street. Actually that’s just Aaron Smith. It’s the Kiwi version of a fairy tale, where every sheep has its own little patch of paradise, and the biggest concern is whether the neighbour’s cow is plotting to steal your spot in the sunshine.
Or at least that’s what we’re so used to seeing on TikTok as those optimistic yanks or brits think as they haul themselves and subsequent kids across the pond to start their new life in the new land. But I think there’s a vital missing link in this dream–we’re all still here. It’s pointless me throwing around some shit about the rising cost of living and how we’re doomed to all fail into the endless cycle of the system. Instead let’s look at some facts and talk to a couple of the young people in Aotearoa to see what their idea of a “NZ dream” looks like.
Lifestyle block, couply cows and an unheard of nightmare
There’s no denying that growing up that there was a massive divide between rural kids and them townies. As a rural kid, it was easy to look at the ones in town as if they were perched on some sort of pedestal. Somehow being closer to the three shops and four square meant their world was inherently better than mine. Weekends spent roaming the forest, trawling rivers for koura and planning big missions across the rolling maunga. Wow doesn’t that just sound horrible as I now subject myself to the growing rat race of office life and career progression.
You watch on as droves of people arrive in the hopes of slicing a piece of their NZ dream, delicious. Without a beat, Aotearoa’s finest are facing crippling debt, shit housing and this ever-growing sense of dread that everything that they know is no-longer a part of the foreseeable future. Catastrophizing is never going to solve the problem, though it’s hard to always keep your head up in the face of adversity.
Our current government doesn’t support the growth of farming and agriculture as one of our largest economic drivers and exports. There’s tax upon tax placed on a system that, while not perfect, has paid for those fancy trips to the UN and allowed you to comfortable smile from your top floor balcony as the backbone struggle 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year just to create a revenue worthy of a measly 1 day off to spend with their whānau but end up sleeping as a result of fighting for the only damn thing they know. I’ve watched my father LITERALLY (like surgery and all) break his back to prove he’s more than some dropout Māori from Maniaiti–showing the mana that our current government sees an easier way to make money and kill off those making it. Labour make it hard to keep working as farmers, kind of ironic considering their initial reason to exist huh?
What it means to be a gangster
The election season brings the worst and best out of us as people, this isn’t isolated to Aotearoa though, but with the TikTok coverage running rampant–mp’s are no longer hidden in their comfy million dollar homes. Mark Mitchell has been under scrutiny recently as he’s seen approaching whānau Māori protesting, blatantly calling them racists as they defend themselves–pleading for an apology more than anything. How did this man react to the request? Well by doubling down of course. We’ve been exposed to all this media coverage of the numerous debates and politicians saying shit they think we want to hear, somehow missing the point of everything. He aha te mea nui o te ao? He tangata he tangata he tangata.
Tangata Māori are facing systemic racism. Fact, while not new of course. As we watch on to our leaders as a representation of who we are as people it’s easy to think that it’s some sort of sick joke as the true blue throw around that they believe we’re the problem and need to crack down on who we are, as if it’s not a defence of our mere-existence in this world. Racism is alive, and well, in the ecosphere of Aotearoa. You don’t have to look very far to hear the stories, the accounts and situations that led to my people feeling hopeless. Is there hope? I don’t know, I’ll let you know when I find it in a miraculous discovery. Shout out to Joseph Smith.
As National and ACT gain traction, so do the far right radicals thinking it okay to announce their thoughts and opinions online. “Guys, todays the day 🤠. I want to announce something important 🙏🏻. Trav and I would like to let everyone know we hate the savage mouldys 🤭😱 and we’re proud to vote blue and pink,” This isn’t a smear campaign on the far right, but it’s certainly me looking at you with a newfound impression. I hope it’s worth looking like an ignorant racist in the grand scheme of things, pōkokohua kai a te kurī.
$20 cheese and full pockets
We’re staring down the barrel of the gun. Oh it’s not a real gun, but the cost of food is making us all falter as we roam the aisles of our respective supermarkets. As a Pak n Save skank (UP THE SAVES) I am saving a little pūtea each week by buying the cheaper options and living on garbanzo beans, though not without the “Doesn’t look like you miss a meal neph,”. Gotta love tāne Māori culture right? Just straight insulting each other and then basically knocking each out with a mighty pat on the back. Back to kai, as it always is, we’re looking at exponential growth in the greedy monopoly over food prices. Woolies (Loves a name change back to the original) reported a profit of $4.1b in 2022 and it’s set to be a 56% increase in 2023. $4.1b. That small b there, yeah that means billion. So while we’re hustling to buy that $8 broccolini, they’re raking in record profits by owning the largest square in the board compared to the FoodStuff North, sorry southland coldies, $44.9m in profit. I see that number too guys, it’s still a lot of money.
Here’s the thing. Foodstuff is New World, Pak n Save AND Four Square (shout out Kaeo).
I asked three students from Nawton primary school what their idea of the NZ dream is. Nawton Primary, for me, is a place that represents community and who those affected by the current climate of Aotearoa. Their names have been changed for safety and privacy.
“My mum can buy food,” says Maya, 8. “And I can buy pretty shoes so my feet aren’t sore” A cursory glance sees feet covered in scars and sores from being barefoot.
“My whānau can buy a mean car that we can take on trips to go see our maunga back home. We don’t have one and so we can’t go home” Tama, 10.
“Everyone can just be happy” Ana, 7.
Hate isn’t nature, it’s nurtured. Kids aren’t destined to only think that they’re meant to hate everything about the world, they grow into that through years of neglect and feeling like they’re forgotten. Understand one thing from me today. The NZ dream isn’t the rolling hills, pirikahu and mighty awa. It’s allowing its people the space to allow it’s people to be kaitiaki of the whenua, it’s seeing Māori valued as the indigenous people, it’s the joining of culture and it’s the growing of who we are without putting money over all else and ignoring the pleas of its people.
It’s what we make it and we’re doing a shit job right now.
