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AuthorCavaan Wild

Author Archive: Cavaan Wild

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September 24, 2018

Turn off that radio I can’t hear myself above the drums of flava 106 I want to tell you about where I came from Specifically: Karamea St, the “nice end of Spotswood” (We weren’t part of a suburb till 2008 when the new subdivision came in and we were officially Whaler’s Gate, before that Mum […]

August 13, 2018

My family and I did a roadtrip of the South Island in memory of my grandad when he passed. We called it the “blue cod trip.” You see, Grandad always waxed lyrical about the taste of blue cod, obtainable only in certain parts of New Zealand. The blue cod trip went from Invercargill to Christchurch to […]

August 6, 2018

Gang Patches & Boxing Gloves in Newtown, New Zealand. The year is 1985. Oscar Partsch is 3. Of Tokelau and German descent, his family has just immigrated to New Zealand from Hawaii. They come to Wellington, and settle in the suburb of Mount Cook, in the Arlington flats. Oscar described it as the “concrete jungle”. […]

May 21, 2018

There are two centres of vulnerability in New Zealand. One is our public hospitals, the other is our District Courts. It’s 8:30 in the morning in Wellington District Court, and bedlam is slowly unfolding. A visibly homeless man shakes his leg restlessly while picking at a sore on his face. A father with a Black […]

April 30, 2018

This article is about the mental health system in New Zealand. It is drawn from 2016, when I visited a friend in the Newtown Psychiatric Ward. Two years later, I conducted an interview with him. It is not intended to be a criticism of the system or the staff they employ. Any interpretation to that […]

April 16, 2018

Short for poverty. Up until I reached university, I had never heard the word “povo” before. Indeed, I had lived in my community, in the apparently mistaken belief that we were normal. We are normal — let me emphasise that. We didn’t have the most. But compared to others a short walk away, we were […]

March 12, 2018

I was 10 when I fell in love with materialism. Specifically: a pair of Nikes. Rebel Sport had just set up in New Plymouth and it was, literally, the talk of the town. This was the first sports store that didn’t sell guns and ammunition next to their running shoes. No, Rebel Sport had all […]

March 20, 2017

TW: This article contains discussion of suicide and drug use.   After eight years I still have questions. Twelve and thirteen-year olds aren’t equipped to deal with suicide, and I remember sitting in the chapel feeling helpless; dumbly wondering at the magnitude of it all as your mother, father, and brother gave testament to your […]

October 4, 2015

I read books, not cards or palms. But I reckon I can see your life written across your hands. Calloused skin and sinewy veins, nails blunted and cuticles in tatters, knuckles ashy and split.  Dermatological milestones, ten fingers worth of 30 years.   If given a second chance I doubt you’d go through it all […]