The awards allow University Sport New Zealand and Victoria University to recognise students who excel at the highest level in their chosen sport, while also balancing study and personal commitments.

17 students have been honoured with awards for their efforts in fencing, ultimate frisbee, debating, rowing, surf life-saving and hockey. A further four individuals have been recognised for their efforts in sports administration.

“It’s great to be able to recognise the achievement of many of our top sportspeople like this. 2011 was another strong sporting year for Vic students. From Team Vic’s success at Uni Games and the World University Games to DebSoc continued national and international dominance, we have much to be proud of. Congratulations to all the winners,” says VUWSA President Seamus Brady.

The winners of the overall awards, Sports Administrator of the Year and Sportsperson of the Year, will be announced at the ceremony in the Hunter Chambers on Tuesday night.
“The suspense!” exclaimed Brady.

After the ceremony, it is rumoured that “nibbles” and drinks will be provided, though VUWSA Vice-President (Administration) Daniel Wilson told Salient that this year’s event is “massively scaled back on previous years.”

In the past, the awards have incorporated illustrious guest speakers, three-course meals and even a band, but Wilson, who, together with VUWSA Association Manager Mark Maguire and Clubs & Events Manager Melissa Barnard, helped to organise the awards, said that “there was just no money” for those kinds of bells and whistles this year.

At a meeting of the VUWSA executive last month, Wilson himself requested that VUWSA put a further $5000 towards the Blues Awards, but his application was rejected when he let slip that that amount would cover the cost of hiring Sevens coach Gordon Tietjens to speak at the event.

Sports Administration Awards

Richard Carr—Ultimate Frisbee
Udayan Mukherjee—Debating
Sebastian Templeton—Debating
Daniel Wilson—Debating

Sporting Blues Winners

William Bishop—Fencing
Richard Carr—Ultimate Frisbee
Richard D’Ath—Debating
Asher Emanuel—Debating
Angus Hines—Ultimate Frisbee
James Hunter—Rowing
Jonathan Jackson—Ultimate Frisbee
Holly Jenkins—Debating
Samantha Lee—Surf Life Saving
Udayan Mukherjee—Debating
Tamarah Neal—Ultimate Frisbee
Matthew Richardson—Ultimate Frisbee
Lauchlan Robertson—Ultimate Frisbee
Paul Smith—Debating
Sebastian Templeton—Debating
Alexandra Tully—Hockey
Luke Watts—Rowing

But even in the face of these grave character flaws, I strive to be rational, a trait that is not prized enough by modern society. Fuck being earnest—earnestness is just, as P. J. O’Rourke so rightly said, stupidity sent to college. The importance of being reasonable, however, is paramount: if we can’t reach conclusions from deliberate consideration, if we can’t connect our beliefs to our reasons for belief, and our actions with our reasons for action, we are chickens without heads.

Too often, issues that are shaded grey are discussed in black and white terms. The argument over Voluntary Student Membership is a key example: to articulate it as a binary of compulsory or voluntary undermines the influences on and implications of the debate. Even worse than such total statements is hand-wringing, hysterical rhetoric. The New Zealand Union of Students’ Associations were quite rightly mocked for their “desperate” press release that declared that “members of the press release” would “tonight be appalled” that the “extreme… Bill” had not been reconsidered. I understand the intended effect of emotive language, but this verges on being insulting.

The same issue arose at the tumultuous ‘We Are The University’ protest on Kelburn campus a fortnight ago. Call me heartless, but changes to the International Relations programme does not constitute “the death of tertiary education”, and saying so undermines your point, alienates potential supporters, and makes it easier for your detractors to ignore, dismiss or rebut you. Moreover, the letter addressed to Vice-Chancellor Pat Walsh was, quite frankly, cringeworthy—petulant, sarcastic, and reeking of entitlement. I don’t dispute that the lack of consultation with students on changes to the University is disturbing, but snarky repetitions of “Pat” do not convey this, and that the protest’s organisers felt that this was an appropriate way of articulating these concerns—especially on behalf of other students—was acutely embarrassing.

Sometimes people confuse “discussion” with “sermon”, “lecture”, or “verbal assault,” but it’s easy to engage in reasonable dialogue, and doing so fosters constructive, rewarding, authoritative debate. Just be respectful of and open to new ideas; provide proof and justification; and concede to evidence that disproves your point. Your argument is never so powerful that it’s not necessary to talk about it.

By the same token, it is important to recognise the limitations of your opinion. Above all, you need to come to terms with the fact that all your opinions, without exception, are framed by your own experience and understanding of the world. Being a student of Victoria University, you are likely to be a white, middle-class New Zealander, aged between 17 and 25—and by that definition, you cannot be a leading authority on China’s economy or Michele Bachmann or the Israel-Palestine conflict. Not even if you hold a full online subscription to The New Yorker. It is of course vital to pay attention to international affairs, but fronting like an expert on issues that neither you nor I, by virtue of our position within the world, could ever hope to fully comprehend is misleading and presumptuous.

This is why we need to initiate a return to reason. Rationality does not preclude creativity or innovation: in fact, it reinforces their foundations. As one creative type, filmmaker Lars von Trier, noted—”if one devalues rationality, the world tends to fall apart”, and I am deeply concerned about the world falling apart. It is so, so important that we articulate ourselves clearly and intelligently and reasonably; otherwise, we just look like dicks. And if I’m going to look like a dick, it won’t be because I’ve made a blanket or overwrought statement that highlights the flaws in my logic. It will be because I’ve set my hair on fire.

Prez Seamus has not been forthcoming as to why so many meetings have failed to eventuate, dodging your correspondents’ eager questioning with excuses like “There isn’t any business to discuss” (even following VUWSA’s AGM) and “Everyone’s away.”

The meeting opened at 5.34pm, with apologies from Queer Officer Tom Reed and Environmental Officer Haley Mortimer. Prez Seamus acknowledged that the last exec meeting was “a very long time ago”, and moved onto the perusal of work reports, compiled from the past two periods. Had I been live-tweeting the discussion, (follow us; @salientmagazine), I’d have broken it down thusly:

“Welfare Officer Ta’ase Vaoga grills Vice-Prez (Welfare) Asher Emanuel on his considerable deficit”

“Vaoga says that the Pasifika Students Council’s fono at the end of last month was “really successful””

“Prez Seamus says that the National Māori Tertiary Students Association’s AGM was “fun””

“Education Officer Jen Fellows reports that the Undergraduate Review is going well”

“Clubs Officer Jeremy ‘Jezza’ Peters announces that ‘Give It A Go Week’ has been cancelled due to lack of interest”

“Peters reveals that just two students attended The Hunter Lounge’s screening of The King’s Speech, much to the amusement of all present”

Campaigns Officer Josh Van Veen, apologised for not having submitted work reports for either of the past two periods. “That’s because I haven’t done anything of note, and so I’ve probably put in zero hours over the last four weeks,” he explained. Incredibly, no one responded to this, and work reports were passed largely without comment.

Seamus then shared some good news: Student Job Search has helped almost 4000 Vic students find work, bringing them just over $8 million in earnings. VUWSA’s levy to SJS is about $22,000, so this is a solid return on its investment. Fellows praised Seamus’ “good work”; Wilson agreed that “snaps for Seamus” were in order; Emanuel clapped. It was a heartwarming scene until Wilson realised that “snaps” is a quote from Legally Blonde; muttered “I’ve made a huge mistake”; and looked to me for recognition of that very obvious Arrested Development reference.

Taking care of business, the exec approved VUWSA’s drafted strategic plan to be attached to election voting (which, as Seamus later explained, will enable students to read and vote on it “referendum styles”).

Vice-President (Administration) Daniel Wilson, looking dapper in a new suit, then spoke about VUWSA’s plan for 2012, when membership will be voluntary. Wilson has identified areas where VUWSA could freeze or slow expenditure for the remainder of ’11, to ensure that the association has “big cash reserves left over so we can at least function next year”. He recommended that VUWSA aim to save between $100,000 and $150,000 on top of its current operating surplus of over $100,000, but pointed out that saving dollars that students intended to be spent on them in ’11 for use in ’12 presents an issue of principle. Prez Seamus mentioned that he had discussed making constitutional changes with the VUWSA Trust about funding next year. The exec decided to freeze spending on all lines that do not affect VUWSA’s day-to-day operations in a bid to save $150,000.

The exec then moved into committee.

Coming out of committee about fifteen minutes later, Vice-President (Education) Bridie Hood recommended that VUWSA contribute a nominal sum towards pizza for ENVIRO 214 and 314’s class functions, which was passed. Seamus followed this up with the welcome news that VUWSA and the University had finalised a policy for responding to students’ grievances “after 18 drafts”. He praised School of Law Dean Tony Smith for his support during the process, “because you don’t really argue with someone like him”.

Wilson then suggested that VUWSA put a further $5000 towards the Blues Awards, which recognise sporting excellence among Vic students, from the Cultural Clubs allocation in the association’s budget. The exec expressed reluctance, especially when Wilson let slip that that $5000 would cover the cost of hiring Sevens coach Gordon Tietjens to speak at the event (“So there are lots of savings that can be made,” retorted the Prez). Wilson’s protest that the provision for beverages has been cut was met with a scandalised response from Emanuel and Salient. Seamus recommended that the exec wait until closer to the time to make a decision in case the University decided to contribute more.

The meeting closed at 6.22pm.

At time of writing on Thursday 8 September, five students had put themselves forward for one of the 16 positions on the executive, two weeks since nominations opened in mid-August.

With nominations closing on Wednesday, the upcoming election on Monday 26 September could well be a shambles. But, when grilled by Salient, VUWSA President Seamus Brady displayed a laissez-faire attitude, pointing out that most nominations were received on the last day possible last year.

Salient News Editor Stella Blake-Kelly almost managed to convince one student, who she found engaged in a public display of affection on a couch in the Student Union Building, to run. Like former Activities Officer Alan Young before him, the individual expressed interest in the bonuses on offer to members of the executive.

That’s right, there are executive bonuses! That’s correct! Like, executive bonuses! We’ve been told there are executive bonuses. You have until Wednesday to put yourself forward!

How to apply—Check out vuwsa.org.nz for more details!

In this, Salient’s Tertiary Education issue, we look at how the Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association (VUWSA) serves its members, and explore how it could be adapted to suit a voluntary membership environment.

For much of its 111-year history, VUWSA has served as a platform for its members to respond to wider social and political issues, such as the Nuclear Free New Zealand Movement and the Vietnam War. In the 2000s, however, students are no longer as concerned with the state of their nation as they are with the state of their time at university. VUWSA has therefore prioritised the provision of representation and services to reflect the more self-interested demands of its membership. So, the association’s principal responsibilities within the Victoria University community is to act as a voice for students, and as a service provider that supports their interests—which, together, are understood to contribute towards that elusive ‘student experience’.

VUWSA serves as an advocate for students, both in terms of protecting them as a group from the commercial interests of Victoria University and supporting individuals’ grievances through the institutional process.“[Students’ associations provide] an opportunity for the student voice to be heard,” says Labour Rimutaka MP Chris Hipkins, who served as President during 2000 and 2001. “I actually think that’s one of [their] most important functions.”

In theory, VUWSA picks its battles on a basis of what its membership highlights as a priority. President Seamus Brady says that the association’s most recent activities have been guided by the results of the Student Survey conducted at the end of last year. This also means that, as the student community becomes more and more diverse, VUWSA has had to expand its forms of representation. It has done so with an increased number and range of representative groups—for example, the recent and much-publicised establishment of the Science Society, which is an example of how a rep group, overseen by a students’ association, can work to foster a sense of community on campus.

“As the student population grew more diverse, we [felt] we should be able to accommodate the changing student profile within our own association, so that we remained a legitimate representational body,” says Brady.

Over recent years, VUWSA has managed to build on this authority, adding to the credibility of its academic representation. Thanks largely to the efforts of incumbent Vice-President (Education) Bridie Hood, its class representative system is the best in the country, with 91 per cent of classes this year engaged with the scheme, up from just 44 per cent in 2009. VUWSA also employs several student advocates that help individuals with academic grievances make submissions to the University. Moreover, the Association’s improved relationship with the University has further increased its effectiveness: “If you constructively work with [the University], and maintain that independence from it, then you can have an impact on what you are trying to achieve,” says Brady.

Victoria University’s Chancellor Ian McKinnon—a former VUWSA executive member himself—sees a strong partnership between a students’ association and a tertiary provider as crucial to ensuring a world-class student experience. Brady agrees with this sentiment: “We often fill the gap that students identify is lacking, when they want something to happen—we built the rec centre back in the day,” he says. “We built the first library.” (It’s important to note, though, that both of these services are now funded by the Student Services Levy, not VUWSA.)

Today, VUWSA’s attention to the student experience has been realised on a grander scale with the Campus Hub redevelopment project—a huge undertaking that reflects what can be achieved when a tertiary provider and a students’ association collaborate. This also exemplifies how some of the ‘services’ that students’ associations provide are universal, and hard to quantify the value of—after all, even in a voluntary environment, it would not be possible to charge non-VUWSA members for using the Student Union Building or developed Campus Hub.

Students’ associations also provide services designed to create a sense of community and support students’ needs. In VUWSA’s case, this includes Orientation programmes, clubs, student media (such as Salient and The VBC 88.3 FM), and the food bank. The impact and importance of these services is hard to gauge, as they tend to involve a small but dedicated group of people. For example, with 1979 members, cultural clubs involve only 10 per cent of the student body; sporting clubs, with 822 members, five per cent.
Having said that, there is less pressure on VUWSA to provide cultural opportunities, as these are widely available in the central city. Moreover, core services, such as the library and recreation centre, are provided by the University. This goes to show how the concept of a students’ association can be adapted to reflect the needs of its student body: the University of Otago Students’ Association, for example, clearly prioritises recreation and entertainment over academic representation.

Under universal membership, VUWSA can speak for all students of Victoria University. This legitimises the association’s status as a student voice; as all students are members, it is assumed that VUWSA’s stance extends to that of the entire student community. But students have a wide range of views, and an automatic mandate is an unearned mandate. This argument is often voiced by supporters of Voluntary Student Membership (VSM), which—due to the persistence of ACT MP Heather Roy—looks likely to affect students’ associations from 2012.

VSM will greatly reduce the power of students’ associations, as, in a voluntary environment, they will only be able to speak on behalf of their members. But, argues ACT on Campus president (and vehement supporter of VSM) Peter McCaffrey, this is democratic.

“Representation is when one person allows another person to represent their views on their behalf,” says McCaffrey. “In a voluntary organisation, if you believe you are being misrepresented, you can leave so that that person no longer represents you.

“Unfortunately, because students’ associations are compulsory, if you think you are being misrepresented you can’t leave the organisation or refuse to join the following year. Voluntary student membership lets everyone decide, for themselves, whether they wish to be represented by their students’ association.”

McCaffrey is exaggerating. Even under universal membership, it is possible to disassociate oneself from one’s students’ association—it’s just difficult. Under current legislation, a student can choose to opt out, but the rationale must be ‘conscientious objection’, and their membership fee has to be donated to charity. Moreover, how this loophole is exercised is at the whim of the executive in question: a number of students’ associations nationwide have either conspicuously failed to publicise the option of opting out to their membership, or adopted policies with complicated withdrawal processes.

Even acknowledging that the current process of opting out is inadequate, it’s important to recognise voluntary and universal membership as ideological extremes. Universal membership assumes that a students’ association can accurately represent the views of an entire community, but this depends on its being transparent, accountable and engaged; moreover, it is impossible to represent all students’ views. But under voluntary membership, an association can operate only on behalf of its members—meaning that the university no longer has to recognise it as the voice of the student body. This would shift the balance of power in favour of tertiary providers, which has the potential to jeopardise the student experience: supporters of students’ associations often maintain that universities could and would not prioritise this if left to their own devices.

Voluntary membership presents VUWSA with a great deal of uncertainty. Will Victoria University continue to recognise it as the voice of students, or will it be reduced to being the voice of individuals? Will VUWSA still be able to appoint student representatives on the University Council and various committees? And how will those students who choose not to join VUWSA make their opinions known to the University?

Currently, VUWSA depends primarily on membership fees for revenue. Next year, with this certainty removed, VUWSA has two options: it can either be contracted to the University to provide services, or it can focus on soliciting for membership. Either way, the association will have to reflect seriously on its purpose and its goals to ensure that it does not lose sight of its responsibility to the student body, and the Strategic Plan, which was open for consultation in August, is a first step towards this. However, student engagement—which is how VUWSA remains relevant—has been low: for example, voter turn-out to elections and meetings has been consistently low. (In 2009, the meeting to approve the contribution of $12m of student funds to the redevelopment of the Student Union Building failed to reach quorum.) This apathy compromises the validity of VUWSA’s decision-making: if students aren’t letting VUWSA know how to proceed, how does it know it is making the right decisions?

This indifference is particularly concerning in the face of voluntary membership, when VUWSA will, in all likelihood, have to shake students out of their passivity for revenue. But for pro-VSM group Student Choice spokesperson Lauren Brazier, this is part of a democratic society.

“Students are smart—if you’ve got a good students’ association, they’re going to realise that,” she says. “I think that’s a problem that underlines the arguments for compulsory membership—there seems to be this assumption that as soon as membership’s voluntary, no-one’s going to join. But contradictorily, [students’ associations] say ‘Hold on, though we provide all these great services, no-one’s going to join us under VSM’. It makes no sense.”

More than ever before, under voluntary membership, VUWSA is going to have to be what students want it to be; otherwise, it will not have the authority to speak for the student body. But does VUWSA know what students want? If it did, would voluntary membership seem so devastating a threat? After all, as Brazier points out, VSM doesn’t, by definition, stop students’ associations from fulfilling their role: it will just make it harder.

In its current form, VUWSA might not have what it takes to meet the challenge. So will it have to drastically restructure? Will it have to cut all services, sell off Salient, give up representation and their mandate to speak for students as they become reliant on the University for funding? Only time will tell. The environment is changing, and VUWSA—as do all students’ associations—needs to adapt or die.

Regardless of one’s stance on the matter, the cases for both Universal and Voluntary Student Membership make a bold statement about the purposes of students’ associations. While neither questions that when a person enrols in a tertiary institution, that person becomes part of a student community, the argument for Universal Student Membership relies on the idea that there can only be a strong student experience through a students’ association—and then, only if that association is Universal. But the VSM debate is further complicated in that it hinges on different interpretations of what a students’ association should be. Current legislation gives us no exact definition, so how do we know if ours serves us well?

The ambiguous nature of students’ associations means that the concept can be interpreted to meet the different needs of different student bodies. While one association might focus on providing representation at an academic level, another might prioritise ensuring students’ access to student-controlled or -directed services, such as student media and food bank initiatives. Either way, the emphasis of an association should be dependent on what its student body identifies as a priority.

“Students’ associations do things because their students have asked for them to happen,” says VUWSA President Seamus Brady. “It’s always evolving—you can never achieve the perfect student experience, because students change.”

Most students’ associations tend to focus on either acting as a voice for students, or as a service provider that supports the interests of the community. It’s reasonable to assume that a good association would achieve, or at least strive for, a balance between the two.

As co-president of the New Zealand Union of Students’ Associations and 2010 VUWSA President Max Hardy notes, both roles are important.

“Students should have a say over their own education, and how a university is organised,” he says. “Institutions have a huge amount of power over students, so it’s really important that students have some independence for them to be able to protect themselves.”

Hardy points out that VUWSA’s other functions, such as welfare services and Orientation events, contribute to a well-rounded tertiary experience.

“These things are often linked to building a community, and about ensuring that students get the best out of their time at university.”

Brady agrees. “It’s not just representation; that’s why [we] provide all these other services. There’s more to university than going to class.”

In the past, however, students’ associations have prioritised a response to wider social issues, rather than academic concerns, reflecting the interests of students at the time. This reflects how a good students’ association is responsive to the needs of its body.

“In the 70s and 80s, students’ associations were extremely political places, and very much focused on external, international, political affairs,” Hardy says. “There was a far smaller student population back then, and a good chunk of them were involved or interested in those issues. There’s definitely been a move away from that as students have become more interested in looking after their education and their own experiences at university—and more interested in having their association look after their interests.”

But regardless of their focus, students’ associations can achieve little without the support and respect of the tertiary provider, and so a strong relationship between the two is fundamental. Both Brady and Hardy feel that VUWSA has succeeded in this regard in the past half-decade or so, although the former concedes that the success of the relationship is dependent on the personalities in question.

“[VUWSA and Victoria University] concedes that the success of the relationship is dependent on the personalities in question,” Brady says.

“In recent history, we went through a number of years where the reputation of the association was under a lot of strain,” Hardy remembers. “The esteem with which people held VUWSA kind of plummeted, and that was a big shame.”

Brady points out that Victoria “has its own priorities.

“There’s always a tension, but Victoria has recognised VUWSA as an integral part of what it’s trying to achieve—a strong student experience,” he says. “So it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Victoria University’s Chancellor Ian McKinnon, who served on VUWSA’s executive as Men’s Vice-President in 1966, believes that this experience is as important as a good education, and that VUWSA contributes to achieving this balance.

“I want students to be very well educated so we really make a contribution to New Zealand society, but at the same time, I want them to be well-rounded, and [becoming] well-rounded actually comes from the experience and the opportunities that are available,” he says. “The student experience is a combination of the university and the students’ association working together.”

McKinnon goes on to point out that because students tend not to deconstruct that ‘experience’ (no-one thinks in terms of O-Week ’11 making or breaking their time at uni, MGMT or not), VUWSA’s work often goes unrecognised.

“I would think that the majority of students take it for granted that they are entitled to a good student experience at Victoria—that is, access to social, pastoral, sporting and access opportunities,” he says. “I suspect, though, that a lot of students wouldn’t relate that to VUWSA, so it probably doesn’t get as much credit as it should for its focus in those areas.”

“A lot of the representative work that associations do goes totally unnoticed by the bulk of the student body,” says Chris Hipkins, Labour’s Rimutaka MP, former VUWSA president and VUWSA life member. “Representation doesn’t have a monetary value.”

Regardless of one’s opinion of students’ associations, this is an important point. Few students reflect on, or engage with, their experiences at university in terms of the services and representation that a students’ association provides. The impact that associations have on ‘the student experience’ is difficult to evaluate, but it seems fair to state that the value of students’ associations exceeds the sum of its parts.

Prez Seamus has done, in his own words, “lots” so far this year, and indeed, there’s no obvious padding in his extensive, 15-page work report. That he’s often in his office until 10pm, his dedication to the role. Seamus has continued to improve the relationship between VUWSA and the University; overseen the best O Week festival in the country; and actively worked on improving engagement and communication between VUWSA and students. He’s represented students’ interests on a number of national boards, and moreover, he’s fulfilled the diplomatic part of presidency very well—especially compared to his predecessor Max “Power” Hardy. But for reasons unknown—perhaps lack of confidence, or a sense of resignation to the inevitable—he has been unwilling to do much more than go with the tide. Seamus has failed to rock the boat, even though the likely implementation of Voluntary Student Membership next year has meant that it really was necessary. Looking at the media coverage that Otago University Students’ Association president Logan Edgar managed to reel in for the CSM cause, he could have been a little more outspoken. Overall, though, Seamus has been an excellent captain, keeping VUWSA on an even keel after many years of stormy weather. If Max and Seamus’ legacy is upheld next year, VUWSA is in good hands.
Rating: 4/5
Fun fact: Seamus’ office is full of dead ladybirds!

Bridie Hood, Vice-President (Education)

Bridie, the star of VUWSA 2011, is in the Association for all the right reasons. Consequently, her work report reflects work that she has done: there’s no sense that she is exaggerating her achievements. She has single-handedly revitalised the class representative system, transforming it from a token, tiresome gesture at the start of each course to a real, legitimate chance for students to have their voices heard. In Trimester 1 of this year, 91 per cent of classes had class reps, and just under 80 per cent of them attended a class rep training session; there are now even scholarships to reward them for going above and beyond the call of ‘class rep’ duty. That’s huge, and that’s more or less entirely Bridie’s doing. She’s been a genuine advocate for students, and has ensured that they have a real, legitimate voice within the University. So far this year, Bridie has clearly been Seamus’ right-hand woman, following on from a relationship they built in the Vice-Presidents’ office last year. This goes to show what can happen when people see VUWSA as an ongoing commitment, rather than a year-long term. Bridie is passionate, tuned-in to other parts of student culture and society, and genuinely believes in the importance of VUWSA and tries to convince others of the same.
Rating: 5/5
Fun fact: Bridie looks a lot like Uther’s sister Freya!

Asher Emanuel, Vice-President (Welfare)

Asher is working on a huge deficit of hours that he is unlikely to make up over the course of the year. However, that he has managed to achieve such a considerable amount regardless highlights the flaws in VUWSA’s quantitative methods of assessing work. Calculating work in hours encourages exec members to pad out their fortnightly work reports with ‘tasks’ such as responding to emails and checking voicemail messages. Asher’s work to date proves that it is possible to make a difference within VUWSA despite apparently not being on top of his workload. Together with Welfare Officer Ta’ase Vaoga, Asher has improved the profile of VUWSA’s welfare-related services (especially at the satellite campuses) immeasurably. It’s also reassuring to see that he looked outside of Victoria University for ideas as to how to improve initiatives such as the VUWSA Food Bank. His position as a newcomer to VUWSA has enabled him to identify and address the Association’s weaknesses clinically, efficiently and without undue emotion. Moreover, as was demonstrated at the VUWSA AGM last week, Asher—a DebSoc veteran—is easily the Association’s most effective and convincing communicator. And today, more than ever before, VUWSA needs more effective and convincing communicators. Keep up the good work Emanuel.
Rating: 3.5/5
Fun fact: According to his IMDB profile (yes), Asher starred in an episode of Shortland Street in 2008 as ‘Harley Henley’!

Daniel Wilson, Vice-President (Admin)

Kudos to Daniel Wilson, this year’s Vice-President (Admin), for admitting that his role is one of the most useless in the VUWSA exec. Vice-President (Admin) was first instated as a paid alternative to Treasurer, and has since become more or less redundant since VUWSA’s appointment of a general manager at the end of 2009. Consequently, it will be dissolved next year. As the Association’s final Vice-President (Admin), Wilson claims to have made VUWSA more accountable, and to have reduced expenditure on sports and cultural councils. He has also played a lot of Minesweeper. It is worth noting that one of Wilson’s chief responsibilities was to organise and oversee the Publications Committee, which governs Salient, but he has failed to attend at least two meetings and has had minimal engagement with the publication. Also, he identified his sole weakness as an initial lack of institutional knowledge—though this has since been rectified. Phew! Daniel’s done a passable job as VUWSA’s last Vice-President (Admin), but not enough to convince us that the position needs to be retained in 2012—though this is more the institution’s fault than his. Good on him for acknowledging this.
Rating: 3/5
Fun fact: Daniel is a big fan of Neil Patrick Harris!

Jennifer Fellows, Education Officer

Education Officer Jennifer Fellows’ relationship with Vice-President (Education) Bridie Hood has been the most efficient of the entire exec, with the two working to ensure quality academic support and representation for students. Jen has been proactive and helpful, as typified by her work on the Faculty of Humanities and Social Science and Faculty of Architecture and Design boards. Fellows is a worthy addition to the general exec team.
Rating: 3/5

Ta’ase Vaoga, Welfare Officer

Working alongside Vice-President (Welfare) Asher Emanuel, Ta’ase has improved the profile of VUWSA’s welfare services across Victoria University. She helped out with study week breakfasts and flu shots, and also organised a trip to Christchurch to help out post-earthquake. Vaoga has also enthusiastically contributed to other areas of VUWSA outside of welfare.
Rating: 3/5

Jeremy “Jezza” Peters, Clubs Officer

As Clubs Officer, Jezza has had an active presence within VUWSA. He has ensured that the relationship between the Association and clubs has been smooth: both Clubs Week and his Meet and Greet were well-attended. He was also the sole exec member to give a detailed justification of his application for a bonus.
Rating: 3/5

Campbell Herbert, Activities Officer

The ‘wildcard’ of the exec, Campbell resigned from VUWSA at the end of last trimester in order to go to Germany on exchange. His last column in Salient criticised the structure and functions of VUWSA, but this was seen as an extension of his trolling the exec in a misguided attempt to hold them accountable. In his half-year report, Herbert acknowledges his being “outspoken” as a weakness that “can often lead to dissent”.
Rating: 2/5
Fun fact: Campbell Herbert appeared in an ad for
cheese in a spray can called ‘Mr Cheese’!

Josh Van Veen, Campaigns Officer

Campaigns Officer Josh Van Veen started the year off well, organising a lively launch to the Education Action Group with guest speaker Winston Peters. However, the rest of Trimester 1 saw little promotion of public debate, though this is likely due to Van Veen’s illness. This has also seen him miss half of the general exec meetings so far.
Rating: 2.5/5

Tom Reed, Queer Rights Officer

Tom has had an active presence on campus, organising Pink Shirt Day, creating and facilitating the Safe Space training programme, and organising queer mentoring. His involvement with UniQ is obvious and commendable, but the promotion of their events could have been improved.
Rating: 3/5

Haley Mortimer, Environmental Officer

Environmental issues have not featured prominently on campus so far this year, and Mortimer’s designated Environment Week passed without comment. Perhaps more concerning is that this was not questioned by the general exec. Also: VUWSA has a vegetable garden?
Rating: 2/5

Andy Gao, International Student Officer

The role of International Student Officer within VUWSA has always been problematic, and this year has been no different. The position aims to actively engage with international students, but international students’ needs are dealt with primarily through a specific council, so it seems like the role exists purely for the sake of political correctness.
Rating: 1.5/5

Necia Johnston, Women’s Officer

As Women’s Officer, Necia has continued with the initiatives her predecessor established in 2010. She has also mobilised and maintained a small group of interested individuals as part of VUWSA Women’s Group, but this affects a small number of Victoria’s student body, and it must be questioned whether the role of Women’s Officer is worth retaining in the long-term.
Rating: 2.5/5

Dr Brash spoke at VUWSA’s Mid-Winter Feast about how ACT would tackle the issues facing students if it reaches the five percent vote threshold to remain in Parliament after the November election.

Although the Greens have prioritised targeting record levels of student debt as an election issue, Dr Brash said his personal view was that taxpayers supported students too much.

“I opposed the abolition of interest on student loans because that raised the level of subsidy very high indeed, so I’m not advocating additional subsidy,” Dr Brash told Salient.

“I’m not surprised [student debt is] so high, because if you offer tertiary students interest-free money, they will take it. And if they aren’t bright enough to take it, then they shouldn’t be in a tertiary institution.”

A number of politicians, including ACT MP Heather Roy, made an appearance on campus last week, highlighting the importance of the student vote to politicians.

Dr Brash acknowledged that public perception was that ACT was “very much a man’s party”, and said that ACT on Campus leader Peter McCaffrey’s role on the party board would help to increase support amongst youth and women.

When pressed as to if and when McCaffrey was destined for leadership of the party, Dr Brash said that there was “no age discrimination in the ACT Party”.
“I’m not planning to roll Don any time soon,” quipped McCaffrey.

Dr Brash himself took over leadership of the party from Rodney Hide in a rapid coup earlier this year.

Jason Post and Lewis van den Berg-Shaw, who have both had extensive involvement with the station in the past, have been appointed to fixed-term paid positions to get the station up and running. The VBC Trust intends to appoint a new station manager in early August.

The VBC hopes to perform multiple technical upgrades to ensure consistent broadcasting into the foreseeable future. A new website will also be launched in the coming weeks that will enable up to 250 listeners to stream the station at one time.

“Following the upgrade of the Student Media Centre last year, we’re lucky enough to have one of the best broadcasting facilities of any tertiary institution in New Zealand,” says van den Berg-Shaw. “We’ve got a great group of volunteers who have the passion and determination to ensure that students have their music and voices heard.”

VUWSA President Seamus Brady is also looking forward to the VBC being operational in Trimester 2.
“The station has a lot of exciting new initiatives planned, such as broadcasting in The Hunter Lounge and podcasting regular programmes,” he says. “Fans of my show The Hour of Power with Caitlin and Seamus will be stoked to know it’s returning to the airwaves.”

The VBC will be broadcasting and recruiting volunteers at Re-Orientation Clubs Days at Kelburn, Te Aro and Pipitea campuses.

The meeting began with the usual formalities. President Seamus moved to accept Clubs Officer Jeremy Peters’ absence and Vice-President (Welfare) Asher Emanuel’s lateness. Wilson requested an explanation for both but was dismissed as a pedant.

We then moved onto the perusal of work reports. A number of exec members, including Wilson, Emanuel and Environment Officer Haley Mortimer, have failed to make up their deficit of hours. Vice-President (Education) Bridie Hood resolved to collate the number of hours owed by each exec member after the meeting.

Herbert updated the exec on his pet initiative ‘T-Bone Tuesday’, which is scheduled for Re-Orientation next trimester. As far as I could glean, this is a somewhat vitriolic response to ‘Meat-Free Mondays’, an event that I have never heard of but am told is hosted on campus each week. President Seamus referred to a group such as Auckland University’s Meat Club, which is hosting a BBQ of emu in the near future, as “something to strive for”.

“Maybe we could look at importing kangaroo and alligator or something,” agreed Herbert with enthusiasm.
Reader, I couldn’t make this up.

President Seamus then asked International Students’ Officer Yuan Guo on a project he is involved in that appears to be of questionable relevance to Victoria University students. The nature of this undertaking seemed unclear to all other members of the exec, and after a laborious explanation failed to clear matters up, the two resolved to discuss it at a later date.

Wilson managed to raise a laugh when he pointed out that Mortimer had identified meeting with Peters “to discuss hook-up” as her objective for the coming fortnight. Other than that, work reports were accepted without comment.
Wilson then reported on a Sports Council meeting that was held two weeks ago. He put forward that 13 clubs, including DebSoc, be affiliated to VUWSA for 2011, which the exec accepted unanimously.

He then recommended that over $10,000 in total be granted to nine clubs to assist with expenses. This included a grant of $1,700 to the VUW Badminton Club to cover the cost of new shuttlecocks, which even Wilson conceded seemed a ridiculous amount.

“It was explained to us that you can apparently only use them once,” he explained.
The motion was passed without opposition.

Wilson then moved that a total of $1,900 be granted to five sportspeople to assist with expenses relating to attendance at an ultimate frisbee test match and a rowing test series, both held in Australia. This was also accepted by the exec.
The exec then moved into Committee for 12 minutes from 5.54pm to discuss “confidential and commercially sensitive matters” that I am not allowed to report on. During this period, I took an amusing photo of myself on Photobooth that made it look like I was on a roller-coaster, prompting a barbed comment from Wilson about the activities of “the fourth estate”.

Emanuel and Welfare Officer Ta’ase Vaoga then talked about their plans for ‘stress-free study week breakfasts’, which are scheduled to begin in early June. Vaoga referred repeatedly to a ‘doodle’, which stumped this reporter. Goodbye, ‘soft copy’: VUWSA’s got a new buzzword.

Both Hood and Education Officer Jennifer Fellows expressed concern that not enough exec members had come forward to volunteer with administering said breakfasts. Hood said students could not be trusted to serve themselves because “they can get very messy”.

At Wilson’s request, VUWSA discussed the Budget announcement. Herbert questioned the point of this but President Seamus said one of the association’s eight goals was to promote discussion on issues concerning students as citizens, to which Herbert waspishly retorted: “Do you realise the seventh one is efficiency?”

Wilson said that he was “generally in favour” of the Budget announcement, and expressed a desire to pass a motion to this effect. When this was met with negative reactions that ranged from irritation (“we’re not supposed to be giving our personal view on the Budget”) to open hostility (“let’s not politicise this, Daniel”), he withdrew his request, stating that he’d felt a “vibe”.

The meeting was closed at 6.18pm. At under an hour long, this was one of the shortest I’d ever attended, but it was not without its points of interest. It might be burn-out from the end of a long trimester, it might be the stress of approaching exams, but cracks are beginning to show in the VUWSA exec. Watch this space.

According to this article, the decision to cancel Fairfax’s subscription was a straightforward one. Chief executive Allen Williams explained that the company had “made a choice to concentrate on development of its unique content” because a tailored service was not forthcoming.

So far, so sensible—but what the article understated was that Fairfax held a majority share of NZPA, and without its support the organisation would be forced to close. NZPA wasn’t so much “under review” as abandoned without funding or resources. Sure enough, it was later announced that its operations were to be wound up over the next four to six months. David Farrar of Kiwiblog was not exaggerating when he titled his blogpost on the decision ‘Fairfax kills NZPA’.

Moreover, Fairfax would have us believe that NZPA was gone to a better place, rather than hit on the head with a shovel. Williams even insinuated that the move would benefit all providers and consumers of news in New Zealand, but few agreed with him. As freelance writer Karl du Fresne wrote after the announcement: “Try as I might, I can’t see this as anything other than a seriously retrograde step.”

‘News agency under review’ embodied the kind of ‘churnalism’ that NZPA, as a reliable and prolific source of raw news, worked against. The irony of this was not lost on media commentators: as Farrar noted, the article read “like a Fairfax advertorial”, and gave no comment from outside that organisation. Even the 40-odd journalists that work for NZPA were not permitted to cover the decision that justified their redundancies.

Why did Fairfax decide to withdraw from the association?

The truth is, the closure of NZPA will only benefit Fairfax— which already dominates New Zealand media. It publishes 79 newspapers, including The Dominion Post, The Sunday Star-Times, The Press and six regional dailies, as well as 25 magazines and Stuff.co.nz. According to a Nielsen National Readership Survey, Fairfax reaches 2.9 million New Zealanders across its multimedia platforms.

Put simply, Fairfax is a force to be reckoned with. Its closest rival is APN News & Media, publisher of The New Zealand Herald and second major shareholder of NZPA, which holds sway only in Auckland. Fairfax’s extensive portfolio of regional dailies and community papers means its influence extends far further across the country.
Media analyst and former New Zealand Herald editor- in-chief Gavin Ellis says Fairfax forced the closure of NZPA to further increase its advantage over APN.

“[Fairfax] believed its better geographic distribution of publications would give it an advantage over APN,” he says. “This is all about competition.”
Alan Samson, a lecturer in journalism at Massey University, says Fairfax has spent several years “steadily building up what is effectively its own group news agency”. This means that instead of subscribing for non-exclusive content from NZPA, the company will develop its own stories, which APN’s publications will not have access to.

“If you see the world in financial terms, it was good sense to Fairfax to pull the plug,” says Samson, “even if it brought the news agency crashing down.”

When was the decision made to close NZPA?

Though the official closure of NZPA was announced just last month, Samson maintains “there’s been an air of inevitability to Fairfax’s withdrawal” ever since the association became a commercial service in 2006.

Before then, NZPA had acted as a nationwide co-operative, where member newspapers had exchanged their local content for free.

du Fresne said this arrangement helped bring the nation together: “New Zealanders had ready access to news and information from beyond their own regions… creating a sense of national cohesion in place of the narrow, regional parochialism that previously prevailed.”

The commercial shift came about in the early 2000s when New Zealand’s two major newspaper publishers came under the control of Australian companies, Fairfax and APN. In his excellent master’s degree thesis on the demutualisation of NZPA, Ellis pointed out that the executives in charge of Fairfax and APN in New Zealand “saw the game in zero-sum terms, and the consequences for a cooperative-based NZPA were almost terminal”.

The aggressive rivals were unwilling to share content with each other as part of NZPA. In fact, when APN launched The Herald on Sunday to compete with Fairfax’s Sunday Star-Times and Sunday News in January 2006, Fairfax threatened to withdraw from the service altogether.

NZPA was forced to restructure to overcome this threat to its existence. It abandoned the cooperative model in favour of becoming a commercial service responsible for the gathering and production of its own news. These reports were then provided to subscriber newspapers, who paid an annual fee based on their readership figures.

“It was a pale shadow of the old service, but at least the restructuring bought a stay of execution,” wrote du Fresne. “And in hindsight, that’s exactly what it was—because as radical as the 2006 upheaval was, it probably succeeded only in postponing the inevitable.”

Samson states that, despite the changes made in the restructure, “no-one in the know was surprised by [NZPA’s] failure to make enough money to survive when Fairfax chose to quit the fold.

“In a competitive world, Fairfax’s actions were, from their own perspective, financially (and possibly strategically) sensible.”

What role did NZPA play in the national media sphere?

Even demutualised, NZPA provided an important service, distributing stories of national and international relevance to newspapers nationwide. This served to somewhat lessen the impact of the duopoly of Fairfax and APN, ensuring that both companies had access to the same no-frills reportage to offset the flashier stories written in-house.

“NZPA was an honourable [news media] voice, not tainted with the universal pressure to be sexy and… make lots of money,” says Samson.

NZPA editor Kevin Norquay says NZPA’s services enhanced those offered by Fairfax and APN, rather than competed with them: “Its closure will mean those organisations will have to replicate some of the services NZPA provided.”

The association’s strength was in “providing fast, accurate copy” without a political agenda, says Newspaper Publishers’ Association chief executive and former Dominion Post editor Tim Pankhurst.

As Ellis puts it, NZPA “provided an independent source of news and a third news filter” that complemented those of Fairfax and APN—and in such a duopoly, the loss of a ‘third filter’ must have repercussions.

How will its closure affect New Zealand’s news industry?

Regional newspapers are expected to feel the loss of NZPA the most, as many relied on the association for content.
“Each of those newspapers will have to make arrangements with APN and Fairfax to fill their pages,” says Norquay.

“Some have already indicated they will cut when and how often they publish as a result of the newswire closing.”
Ellis believes this to be a great loss.

“NZPA was the means by which newspaper readers learned about happenings in other parts of the country,” he says. “In this way, [it] helped to contribute to the sustaining of a national identity and a broader understanding of the needs of each community.”

As du Fresne put it, as a cooperative, NZPA “provided the means by which readers in Whangarei and Timaru could be informed of a murder trial in Invercargill or a plane crash in the King Country.”

Now, says Samson, “the ground will be covered much more thinly. Even a relative giant like The Dominion Post will only have a few reporters in Auckland.”

The loss of NZPA’s Parliamentary service is also predicted to affect political coverage. Norquay points out that NZPA’s reporters “scrutinised the passage of legislation… and the roles of MPs in the law-making process, listening to every minute of every debate”. He doubts that politicians will be held so accountable in future.

Ellis says NZPA retained much of the ‘agency of record’ approach to political reporting that large areas of the news media have sacrificed in favour of covering personality politics. “[NZPA] was also often the only means by which news outlets in the smaller population centres learned about political events that related to their own communities,” he adds.

For these reasons, Samson expects the lack of a national newswire to result in an even greater homogenisation of news.“Today, except online, there is almost no escape from the duopoly [of Fairfax and APN],” he says. “The loss of any honourable news media voice is a loss for democracy.”

Who will be most affected by the closure of NZPA?

The closure of NZPA will also affect the career paths of aspiring journalists, for, as Ellis points out, it has been their “primary training ground”.

Norquay says NZPA regularly provided tertiary and secondary students with work experience, and often employed first-year graduates.

“As a workplace, NZPA’s concentration on national news stories means its journalists—even the less experienced ones— dealt with news at the highest level, interviewing politicians, the All Blacks coach and heads of industry, which would never be the case on a regional or community newspaper,” he says.

“Its double-edged focus on speed and accuracy acted as a kind of pressure cooker for young journalists, with both attributes very much valued throughout the industry.”

“Agency journalists are highly prized because of their ability to quickly summarise often complex or wordy or dull subjects and turn them into copy of interest to readers,” agrees Pankhurst. “Sadly, NZPA’s closure does mean an important avenue for junior journalists is closed off. We have had some great young reporters through here and did our best to encourage them.”

Pankhurst is quick to point out that “there are some positives” for the current staff of NZPA who face redundancy.
“A number of our journalists are considering job offers… APN is expanding its national footprint in alliance with the independents… and Fairfax has advertised for staff as well.”

However, Samson doubts that this will offset the loss of “one more significant employer of journalists.
“The two big newspaper owners might argue they’re taking up the slack, but it would be a brave man or woman to predict their employment levels will continue on an upward trend,” he says.

Where to from here for national news?

Even though most agree that the loss of NZPA will affect New Zealand’s news industry, it seems unlikely that another newswire will be established to take its place. Even if, as Ellis suggests, Radio New Zealand decided to offer a state-owned service, it would be “unlikely to be highly successful” without the support of Fairfax or APN.

In any case, as Samson points out, “the big papers can still afford to pay for the services of international agencies like Reuters and Australian Associated Press—The Westport News cannot!”

Having said that, as Samson points out, all news media are “facing huge resource pressures”.

“The reaction of many papers has been to go the entertain- ment route, eliciting scorn from numerous commentators,” he says. “I can live with this as a reality as long as these papers and television channels still function by fourth estate ideals and have the courage to report the big news and fractures in our society.

“And so far, [Fairfax and APN] have not let us down. Witness the Louise Nicholas reporting. Or even the reporting of Parliamentary misspending.”

What Samson is suggesting is that, even with NZPA gone, we can count on Fairfax and APN to report on the issues that matter. But when two companies dominate the media landscape, we should be concerned when the third—no matter how small or superfluous—is lost. Now that the nail is in NZPA’s coffin, the country’s newspaper industry will become even more of a two-player game, and this is bound to have implications for the standard and breadth of new we consume.

VUWSA President Seamus Brady briefly reviewed the exec’s work reports. Many members, including Vice-President (Welfare) Asher Emanuel and Vice-President (Education) Bridie Hood, had failed to make up the hours they owed, but promised to make amends over the next fortnight. Welfare Officer Ta’ase Vaoga had forgotten to include the writing of her Salient column in her work report, but joked that even this was not enough to get on top of her deficit.

Daniel, Education Officer Jennifer Fellows, Clubs Officer Jeremy Peters, and Activities Officer Campbell Herbert shared their experiences at Uni Games. Seamus spent some time listing the successful teams and athletes, and moved that the exec should congratulate them. Jeremy suggested that VUWSA’s Clubs & Events Manager Melissa Barnard should be thanked for her efforts, and the motion was passed unanimously. It is not known whether these sentiments will be passed onto the relevant individuals, or were merely symbolic.

Association Manager Mark Maguire was then granted speaking rights to present figures on VUWSA services for the first quarter of 2011. He said most are “going well”, especially advocacy, locker hire at Kelburn and Pipitea, the free bread service, the food bank, and the class representative system. Maguire said this year’s O Week attracted a combined attendance of over 12,100 people, with the Toga Party and MGMT the most popular events and First Bass and High Five the least.

Maguire then proposed to the exec that VUWSA write off $4,737.50 in aged debts, unpaid by Coyote, the Greater Wellington Regional Council and Wellington City Council. Maguire said there was “no chance at all of getting this” back, and the motion was passed. The exec then approved a revised Memorandum of Understanding with Ngāi Tauira.

I was granted speaking rights to question Campbell about the “general comments” made in his work report. Campbell is leaving the exec on 1 August in order to travel to Germany on exchange, and recommended that the position of Activities Officer “be abolished” on his departure as “any work [he does] is entirely superfluous to that which [Melissa Barnard] does”. He stood by this statement, saying that a part-time position of 10 hours a week could not offer substantial help to Barnard, who “has contacts” and more time to devote to organising VUWSA activities.

And, with that, the meeting was brought to a close. While I doubt that Campbell’s position will be abolished, it was refreshing to see an exec member critically reflect on his role and duties—especially as VUWSA prepares to operate under voluntary student membership.

Mum and Dad have variously floated ideas of owning a motel; starting up an emu farm; importing plastic-covered fabric tablecloths from the UK; finding the last moa and “touring” New Zealand with it; and battery-breeding macaws in the sleepout. Sure, they’re half-joking—but if someone offered Mum big bucks for her encaustic artwork, who’d be laughing then?

Their enterprising attitude has manifested in me as a love of ‘free money’, where one maximises income, not workload. Time-and-a-half at work, annual tax back, selling something on Trade Me for more than you spent on it, Instant Kiwi wins, Christmas cash from relatives, a promotional $20 boost to your TAB account—all are an unexpected but welcome boost to the bank account. Just today, I sent a copy of my driver’s licence to unclaimed.monies@ird.govt.nz to see if $358.14, owed by Inland Revenue to one E Hunt, is owed to this E Hunt. What can I say—cash rules everything around me.

Having said that, it’s just as well that I look out for such opportunities, as halfway through next year, I’ll become the one thing more lowly than a Media Studies student: a Media Studies graduate. I’ll have considerably less disposable income than I do right now, and I’ll be faced with the prospect of paying back a $20,000 loan. Moreover, despite having ostensibly maximised my earning potential with a tertiary qualification, I have no guarantee that my employer will recognise this—if, that is, I manage to secure a job worthy of my newly-minted degree at all.

In fact, the future’s not shining bright-brassy-bucks for any of us. Uther holds a Bachelor of Arts with Honours in Theatre, and he genuinely believes that the nominal amount we receive for editing Salient is the most money he’s going to make in his lifetime. And the outlook’s not much better for students with more focused qualifications—a law graduate will be seeking employment in just as competitive a market as a philosophy major.

It’s something of a Catch-22: spend thousands of dollars on a degree to get a decent job, find there are no jobs going to pay for the degree. The Government’s short-sighted approach to tertiary education funding is at least partially to blame for this hole we’re in. The increasing cost of uni means most of us are forced to juggle a job as well as study in order to live. By pursuing higher education, we’re resigning ourselves to getting into debt, but with no guarantee that a qualification will give us a leg-up in the job market.

It’s not the best of situations, but we’ve got to make the most of it. Focus on learning skills that could benefit you in whatever position you might find yourself in. Get involved in clubs, Salient, the VBC and other extra-curricular activities to maximise your employability. Be flexible, be open to new opportunities, and be on the lookout for free money. Keep on filing those tax returns, and keep on hustling.

Diversify your bonds,

Elle

We all know the basic rules of plagiarism prevention: acknowledge others’ ideas, reference the source of those ideas, and be honest about their origins. But pinpointing unoriginal work can be more problematic than simply running a dodgy essay through TurnItIn—especially in creative fields.Salient co-editor Elle Hunt looks at the line ruled between inspiration and theft at Victoria University’s School of Architecture and Design.

It’s every final-year student’s worst nightmare: in 2008, design student Brittany Bell was barred from graduating from Victoria University.
Bell, who was on the cusp of gaining a Bachelor of Design with Honours in interior architecture, had been found guilty of plagiarism after she allegedly failed to adequately attribute images used in her final project. The University’s Disciplinary Appeals Committee recommended that she should fail the paper—a verdict that would have sent Bell back to uni for at least another semester.

However, Bell disputed the Committee’s ruling that she deliberately attempted to pass other architects’ work as her own. The images that she included in her final project were from the design website suckerPUNCH, and included the work of award-winning Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava and recent graduate Sarah Schneider. Bell argued that she had referenced both the website and the artists’ works in the appendix and bibliography attached to the final draft of her project.

The Committee upheld the ruling on appeal, and so in mid-2010, Bell began legal proceedings against Victoria University at the Wellington High Court.

Old Enough to Know Better?

Plagiarism is often dismissed as the offence of new students still getting to grips with academic referencing: a crime borne of sloppiness or ignorance. But Bell, in her fourth year of study, would have been in no doubt as to what was expected of her, argued defence counsel Bruce Corkill QC.

Corkill said course guidelines were “crystal clear” as to the requirements for sourcing images, and that students were reminded to refer to them at regular intervals.

However, Bell’s lawyer Les Taylor noted that Bell had in fact referenced the images in the appendix and bibliography attached to the final draft of her project.

“It would be a curious form of plagiarism that directed the examiner to the very work being copied. If there was any intention to deceive… Ms Bell went about it in an extremely unusual way.”

The University responded that the website citations Bell provided were vague and inadequate. Moreover, a series of panels on her final project lacked references altogether.

Taylor said that the design Bell submitted, of a conceptual seed archive, was “clearly heavily influenced” by Schneider and Calatrava, but that it was an original work.

This is the crux of the issue. There is a fine line separating inspiration from theft, and no more so than in creative fields such as architecture and graphic design, in which the use of artists as ‘precedents’ is encouraged. This makes validating suspected instances of plagiarism problematic: how much ‘borrowing’ is too much?

In “Brothers From Another Mother”, an article published for the online magazine The Morning News, contributing writer Clay Risen pointed out that architecture is held to a different set of standards than literature, making it harder to detect plagiarism.

“A book’s value is decided in large part by the accumulated impressions gained from reading it; therefore, if part of the book was written by someone else, its author has rigged the reader’s appreciation of their work… [but most people] judge a building by the sum of its parts to the near exclusion of its individual elements”—meaning, therefore, that it’s more difficult to prove that one architect stole from another. A striking resemblance between two balustrades is not conclusive enough evidence, and for this reason, catcalls of plagiarism in architecture often go unheeded.

However, Risen argues, to accuse architects of theft is to underestimate the design process, which sees “artists draw on and play off each other as a way of getting closer to particular aesthetic truths.

“Is it fair, or even wise, to expect every architect to be completely isolated from others, and for every building to look completely different?… Architects are not trained in a vacuum, so why expect them to work in one?”

Though Risen’s argument is idealistic—all creatives, not least of all architects, should be able to secure ownership of their ideas—he makes a fair point. Budding architects and designers are taught to refer to others’ works to learn the tricks of the trade, sometimes to the exclusion of genuine original thought. For example, NCEA Level 3 Visual Arts students are required to refer to “established practice” in order to achieve the external standard, which suggests that that work that lacks obvious precedents might not meet the achievement criteria.

This trend of using precedents, or ‘artist models’, continues at a tertiary level, although not to the same extent. While students are encouraged to use the process or ideology behind a work as a starting point for their own designs, a straight interpretation of a designer’s aesthetic does count as plagiarism. So, design and architecture students more so than their Kelburn counterparts are required to tread that fine line, as their courses require them to draw from existing work—but not too much.

Tribute or Theft?

What constitutes “too much”, however, is debatable—bringing us back to Bell. At the end of 2008, her seed archive was featured in the influential online magazine Dezeen. There, unaware of the allegations levelled against her, commentators picked up on the influence than Schneider and Calatrava had had on her work.

However, Zaha Hadid, Ross Lovegrove, Hernan Dia Alonso and other architects were also speculated to have influenced Bell, while earlier in the year, Dezeen readers dismissed Schneider as a “wannabe Zaha”. This reinforces the notion that imitation is part and parcel of the design process: Bell draws from Schneider, who has in turn found inspiration in Hadid.

As much truth as there might be in this argument, it’s not given credence at academic institutions, and perhaps this is for logistical reasons: after all, the policing for plagiarism motivates students to at least aim for original thought.

Victoria University’s website gives a broad definition of plagiarism (it extends to “design and ideas”, as well as “the organisation or structuring of any such material”) and a grave warning of its consequences.

“Plagiarism undermines academic integrity simply because it… involves stealing other people’s intellectual property and lying about whose work it is… If you are found guilty of plagiarism, you may be penalised under the Statue on Student Conduct… You could fail your course or even be suspended from the University.

“Plagiarism is easy to detect. The University has systems in place to identify it. Plagiarism is simply not worth the risk.”

The University’s “systems in place” include the use of plagiarism detection software TurnItIn, which identifies sections of text that bear resemblance to other sources. That’s all well and good for students cribbing paragraphs from their readings, but TurnItIn is of little use at the Te Aro campus. So what is the process for plagiarism prevention and detection there?

“Information is included in all course outlines within the Faculty of Architecture and Design. It states: “The University defines plagiarism as presenting someone else’s work as if it were your own, whether you mean to or not,” says Jenny Christie, the Faculty’s Associate Dean of Teaching, Learning and Students.

“‘Someone else’s work’ means anything that is not your own idea. Even if it is presented in your own style, you must acknowledge your sources fully and appropriately.”

Perhaps in a bid to address the ineffectualness of TurnItIn at detecting plagiarism in visual projects, a declaration form relating to plagiarism and copyright is being trialled in one course this trimester. Christie says that this could result in a full rollout at the Te Aro campus later this year.
Moreover, an “academic integrity online inter-active learning module” has been spearheaded by Deputy Head of Design School and senior lecturer Margaret Maile Petty as one of the funded Learning and Teaching Development Projects scheduled for 2011.

As for Bell, Justice Denis Clifford of the Wellington High Court found fault with both her and the University’s appeals committee. Justice Clifford said that the University’s finding that Bell had plagiarised others’ work was not unjustified, but that the committee had failed to take into account a number of factors, such as the website references included in her project. The committee had also failed to prove that the plagiarism was a deliberate attempt to deceive, and neglected to give Bell a chance to respond to their charge that it was intentional.

Justice Clifford recommended that the appeals committee reconsider the case, and that process is ongoing, although Bell now works at Weta Digital.

If we’re to accept that some level of imitation is par for the course in artistic fields, the level of influence exhibited in Bell’s work might have been considered acceptable for a practicing architect. However, as a student of Victoria University, Bell was held to rather more stringent standards, and perhaps this is understandable: cries of “copycat” are even harder to prove in the workplace environment, which lacks lecturers and tutors to monitor and vouch for the development of one’s work, and this might have resulted in a freer flow of ideas. At this vulnerable stage in their careers, though, design and architectural students would do well to err on the side of caution in their bibliographies. Not only will it uphold your academic integrity, it might also foster origianlity that will be rewarded later on in your career. And what’s more, just as it’s difficult to prove instances of suspected plagiarism, it’s hard to disprove them.

UPDATE: Bell graduated in May 2011 will first class honours.

In May 2000, when Jess was seven and Elle was nine, we left our home in Dorset, England, and moved onto our family’s 18-metre yacht, the Willy Bolton—which Dad had dreamt of doing ever since his late teens. The story goes that, just after Mum had met Dad, Dad said that he wanted to sail around the world; Mum said she wanted kids; and Dad replied, “Well, we’ll have to get a bigger boat.”

So, we were more or less born into this adventure, as though it were an arranged marriage. The biggest heartbreak of our departure was not selling our house and most of our possessions, or farewelling our friends and family, but having to give away our pet hamsters. Such is life when you’re a child.

For the best part of four years, we lived a nomadic existence. We travelled down the coasts of France, Spain and Portugal, which were familiar territories from a lifetime of school holidays spent preparing for this adventure. Then, we sailed for three weeks straight as we crossed from the Canary Islands to Barbados in the Caribbean. From there, we island-hopped our way to Panama, and then spent 2001 cruising the South Pacific.

Although Mum, as a teacher, was ostensibly home-schooling us, the trip itself was all the education we needed. We’d do about an hour of maths, science and French ‘study’ each day, and chalked things like “climbing up a tree” and “snorkelling” to being PE.

The boat not having mains power for more than an hour per day, we had no TV, and our cutting-edge 16MB RAM laptops had limited battery power. So, we read everything we could get our hands on, regardless of age-appropriateness. We read John Grisham, Tom Wolfe, Agatha Christie, Charles Dickens, Dick Francis, Oscar Wilde. We read books for English language learners, and the complete works of the Brothers Grimm.

Apart from the Harry Potter series, which we had shipped, book by book, to marinas all over the world, we didn’t read many children’s books. In fact, we didn’t see a whole lot of other children. Although there were plenty of ‘yachties’ doing the same thing as us, they were mainly middle-aged or young couples: there were very few families, and so we came to prefer the company of adults.

Though we missed out on interaction with our own kind, as well as typical primary and intermediate school shenanigans like Pet Day and productions, we had other experiences. Like swimming with manta rays, turtles, and black- and white-tip reef sharks. In the Galapagos Islands, Jess rode a giant tortoise. Dolphins became as commonplace as pigeons, while in Tonga, a humpback whale almost breached on top of us. We climbed machete-hewn paths up mountains; we drank kava with Fijian chiefs. This was our childhood.

In 2002, we found ourselves in New Zealand. Although we had vaguely intended to return to England, Mum and Dad reached the conclusion that we’d benefit from a more formal education. The fact that the savings they’d put away for our adventure had about dried up was also a motivating factor. Yachting is the most expensive hobby it’s possible to have.

And so, in 2004, after a year-long ‘farewell tour’ of Fiji, New Caledonia and Australia, we settled in Nelson permanently, and we were faced with making the awkward transition to school life in New Zealand. Jess, aged ten, went straight into intermediate, and 12-year-old Elle, into college.

Our last experience of formal education had been in the late 1990s in an English primary school, and so at first it was hard to reconcile ourselves to the nine-to-three school day in New Zealand in ’04. But we got there in the end, and to meet us today, there are few clues that our childhoods were any different to yours. And in all likelihood, they probably weren’t. Childhood is a universal experience, much the same on land or on sea.

You mightn’t know it, but a number of Victoria University students moonlight as soldiers within New Zealand’s Army Reserve—the Territorial Force. Salient caught up with a couple of student reservists to find out what it’s like to be involved in two very different institutions.

Put simply, the Territorial Force or Army Reserve is the part-time component of New Zealand’s Army. It aims to provide trained individual volunteers “from all walks of life” for overseas operations. From the Reserve’s website: “They may be civilians with no prior military experience, or former Regular Force soldiers who have chosen to continue their link with the Army while pursuing a career in the civilian sector”.

Reservists generally train one weekend per month and some weekday evenings, which allows them to maintain those careers “in the civilian sector” outside of the force. The minimum commitment is a cumulative total of 20 days per year, and it’s also possible to take a leave of absence of up to two years—so it’s an achievable exercise for even the busiest student.

Just ask Private Michael Rennie. In September 2010, the 23-year-old LLB/BCA student was named Defence Reservist of the Year, beating out ten other Army and Navy reservists. The contestants were assessed in their performance of such tasks as weapons handling, physical fitness, first aid and public speaking.
Rennie is modest about his title, attributing his success to his simply attending training sessions and being “keen”.

“The more you turn up, the more people notice you around. And so, the people in charge of my unit thought that I was capable of representing, and so they picked me to go forward.”

Rennie joined the Army Reserve in mid-2007 after a lifelong fascination with “military activities”.
“I’ve kind of always been interested in it,” he says. “It’s kind of like a little itch at the back of the neck.”
So joining the Territorial Force was a natural step?

“Yeah, it was. Half-way through my second year, I was thinking ‘what am I going to do over summer? I’m going to be here for five years, doing a couple of degrees’. So I thought I’d have a look into it online, and it looked really good—and it kind of just went from there.”

Rennie points out that the Army Reserve’s “core blocks” of training sessions tend to suit students well.

“Big lots of training are usually held over summer, so it works out well for university students because you have these big summer breaks, and you can go away,” he says.
7 Wellington/Hawkes Bay (7 WNHB Bn Gp) Battalion Commander 2Lt Erin Sampson points out the annual Annual Field Exercise (AFE) is typically held in early February “to make it fit into the uni year.

“This exercise tends to last two weeks, and is the highlight of the training year, with up to 300 soldiers from all over the country participating.”
Rennie points out that there are financial incentives to being in the Army Reserve, too.

“It’s really legitimate part-time work. You go away for the weekend, and you can get a good few hundred bucks.”
Kim Maisey, a 19-year-old student of Criminology and Psychology who has just finished her initial ‘basic’ training session with the reservists, also signed up to the Territorials in search of a source of income.

“It was kind of like an impulse thing,” she recalls. “I thought it’d be quite a good summer job.”

One reservist Salient spoke to estimated that he received $750 per week he spent at basic training—not bad, considering that more and more students are struggling to secure part-time work of any kind. Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) figures for the September 2010 quarter showed that 19.4 per cent of New Zealanders aged between 15 and 24 were unemployed.

Moreover, Rennie says that Victoria University has been accommodating of his reservist commitments on the odd occasion that there’s been a clash with exam dates.
“At the end of my first semester in 2009, I had to start training to go overseas during the exam period,” he remembers. “I was doing five papers at that time, and the law school was really good in that they… were flexible in their approach. And the accounting school was really good as well, and let me sit my exams around my training timetable.”
Not all his courses were so accommodating, however.

“INFO 101 and MOFI 201 decided that I wasn’t allowed to sit my exams out of place and out of time because it was ‘too much of a risk’,” he says, savouring the irony. “So, although the country would let me carry a firearm into the Solomon Islands with the possibility that I’d have to shoot people, the Faculty of Commerce would not let me sit my exams out of place and out of time, because there was ‘too much risk’.”

Reservists are often ridiculed for their part-time status—a
cheap shot that’s been reinforced by the British TV series The Office. The Territorials have a low profile compared to that of the Regular Force (a title that surely doesn’t help to even out the difference in public perception), and so self-important, humourless paper merchant/“fighting machine” Gareth Keenan has come to be the most iconic depiction of the Territorials in pop culture. [Author’s note: Some in the Salient office contested this, arguing that Mike Watt in Spaced is more notable. They’re wrong.]
In December 2005, at the peak of the series’ popularity, The Mirror reported that Keenan was “damaging the image of the Territorial Army and hitting recruitment”, while the then-Minister of Defence commented that “the Gareth character… has featured in an internal presentation for officials as an example of public perceptions of the TA”.
This is likely to have contributed to the New Zealand Territorial Force’s rebranding as the Reserve Force, which, according to the official website, “more accurately reflects [its] actual function and role.

“These forces are a Reserve for the Regular Force, demonstrated through our deployments to the Solomon Islands and East Timor… The Army Reserve name reflects the role of its soldiers as Reserves for the Regular Force, trained and ready to deploy for periods of full-time service when called upon to serve their country.”
Rennie isn’t so sure that Regular Force soldiers are in a superior position, anyway.

“Hardly anyone goes from the Territorials to the full-time Army. The thing about the Territorials is that everyone’s got a civilian job. And I’ll soon have a law degree and an accounting degree—I’m not going to go from that to being a soldier.”

In any case, Rennie argues, this is one of the “cool things” about the Army Reserve.

“The people who are in charge of us used to be in charge of the Regular Force soldiers… and they often talk about the different skill sets that the Territorial soldiers have. We often have a lot more life experience than someone who’s been in the army the whole time; a lot broader skills. We have all types of people here—there are lawyers, there are accountants, plumbers, builders, people who work in security.”

Reservists’ civilian jobs do not render them less effective than the Regular Force, as, Rennie points out, “whatever situation you get put into, you’re trained to do it.
“It’s not like you’re thrown into the deep end straight away… and if you did get in a dangeorus situation, coming from the NZ Defence Force, you’re likely to be more trained than soldiers from many other countries—unless they too are ex-Regular Force soldiers.”

Rennie was deployed to the Solomon Islands at the end
of 2009.

“We have to be prepared for if anything goes wrong, but it’s our presence that is the main deterrant for anything that could happen. So we’re just there to support the police that are there.

“We did quite a bit of patrolling, so we’d just go through the streets and… support police, especially at rougher times of the day and night… I was there for four months.”
The Army Reserve is one of the arms that the government can call upon in the case of a civil emergency, and this also presents reservists with a number of opportunities.

“A lot of a time, as a reservist, you have to nominate yourself by putting yourself forward, and there are heaps of opportunities as well—it’s not just about going and fighting overseas. There’s things like the Christchurch earthquake, some riot control…”

80 reservists from the 7 Wellington/Hawke’s Bay Battalion were sent to Christchurch in the wake of the 23 February earthquake. Along with 164 South Island Territorial soldiers already at Burnham, they helped to clear sediment from streets and properties, as well as acting as a support network for the police.

“It’s just being eyes and ears, as well,” says Rennie, who was one of the 80 reservists to be sent to Christchurch. “The police are busy, they’ve got a lot going on. Our job isn’t to… arrest people or tackle people who are breaching the cordon. Our job is to help the police.”

Rennie allows that it “takes a certain person” to be a reservist: “You gotta be pretty resilient at times, if you’re going to be living out of your backpack for six days, digging holes, living outside, eating cold reconstituted food…”

Maisey says a degree of “mental hardness” is beneficial, especially basic training.

“I really enjoyed it, but sometimes it was the worst time of my life… You definitely need to have a ‘never give up’ attitude, as they do test you quite a lot. And probably a cruisy attitude, too, because there’s a lot of stuff [during training] that’s real crap, and you just have to get through it.”

Having said that, Maisey believes “it’s a thing that most New Zealanders should do, even if it’s just the basic training.

“The things you’ve got to do, and the experiences you’ve got to get through… do have a big influence. They change your perspective.”

Even the application process, Rennie says, isn’t as gruelling as you might think: “If you wanted to do it, you could put some training in, and anyone could do it.”

Although further intake details for 2011 are to be confirmed, the current requirements are to be a minimum age of 17; have completed at least three years’ secondary school; have a proven ability in English and Mathematics at NCEA Level 1; be free from criminal convictions; and to be a New Zealand citizen or permanent resident. You will also be required to undergo a full medical, as well as to meet minimum fitness requirements.

To be honest, they’re total bastards. Their namesake, and their chief unpleasant trait (although there are a few to choose from), is their excruciating sting, which has been likened to the pain of being shot; with a 4+ rating, it’s ranked as the most painful sting on the Schmidt Sting Pain Index (above even that of the tarantula hawk wasp!). Adding insult to injury, before it stings, the bullet ant will throw itself from its tree-nest, shrieking, onto the perceived predator.

Yes, it can shriek—loud enough to be heard several meters away. As you can see, bullet ants are incredibly efficient, and their speed of hive construction is beyond belief. Can they form themselves in a crude catapult mechanism and launch themselves at prey? Not yet, but give them time. Since no animal can eat the bullet ant, and humans keep their distance, the bullet ant really has just one known enemy: the parasitic fungus Cordycep, the Derren Brown of the mushroom kingdom. The fungus’ spores infiltrate and devour the ant’s mind and body in order to increase its own chances of reproduction. Eventually, fruiting bodies of fungus violently sprout out of what’s left of the ant’s ravaged body, thus dispersing spores to infect any other hapless insects nearby. It may seem a tragic and unnecessarily violent way to die, but it’s hard to feel sorry for an insect that causes “waves of burning, throbbing, all-consuming pain that continues unabated for up to 24 hours”. Live by the sword, die by the sword.

Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach. Or, at least, so goes the adage.

In these times of economic recession, those who ‘can’t’ aren’t looking so misguided. While new graduates are struggling to secure work of any kind, let alone that which relates to their areas of study, teachers have a great job outlook, an above-average annual salary, and the perfect combination of a personal challenge and regular holidays. On the face of it, education looks like an appealing and accessible career path.

But there are cons. Those long holidays are spent recovering from the previous term and preparing for the next one. You’ll have to kowtow to parents who think that their child should be your first priority. And even that above-average salary won’t compensate you for the hours you put into your job, as more often than not, work travels home with you.

And then, there are the people for whom these drawbacks don’t even register; those that refer to a career in education as a “calling” while keeping a straight face. For them, teaching is more than a job with advantages and disadvantages: it’s an earnest bid to do best by the next generation.

Teaching student Brent Amer put a different spin on the role with an anecdote.

“A father and son were walking down a beach where thousands of starfish were washed up and dying in the sun. Every so often, the boy’s father would bend down, pick one up and throw it back into the sea. The boy said, ‘Dad, what are you doing? You can’t save them all!’ As he tossed another into the water, the father replied, ‘Made a difference for that one’.”

Switching on the lightbulb

According to recent graduate Matthew Williams, going into teaching stems from a desire to “make a change, to make a difference”. He admits, however, that this isn’t a day-to-day goal.

“Making that difference isn’t gonna happen all the time. You’ll get the odd lightbulb moments, which are fantastic, but you may not get them for a couple of weeks; you may not get them for a term. But they are out there, and if you persevere, and apply yourself to be a good teacher—they will happen.”

For Williams, the chance of an “odd lightbulb moment” was incentive enough to make a career change. He completed his conjoint BA/BTeach in English Studies and History at the end of last year, and, while he is doing some relief work at the moment, he’s quick to point out that not even a teaching qualification guarantees one a job.

“I’ve applied for a few, but have yet to be successful,” he says. “So, while there might be lots of vacancies, it doesn’t mean you’re going to get a job. You’ve got to apply and be picked.”

Nevertheless, he remains confident about his career choice.

“It was something that, I must admit, goes right back to my intermediate days, when I saw a teacher there and said, ‘I want to be like them’,” he remembers. “So there was an inspiration in what I saw as good teaching, and I felt that now was the time where I could do the same.”

Vaughan Smith, who has just commenced his Diploma of Teaching with view to teaching at an intermediate level, stumbled into the profession. He completed his LLB at Victoria University a couple of years ago, though he admits that he “never had that same passion for being a lawyer”. Teaching became a viable option about half-way through 2010, when he realised he valued flexibility in his working life.

“I’d just started travelling and wanted to do a bit more, and teaching allows you a lot more freedom in your travel options,” he says. “Things such as being flexible with the 40-hour week, 20-hour week… I see it as having a bit more of a control over [my life], and those options with teaching are great.”

Smith also felt teaching would act as a personal challenge to better himself.

“I came to realise the importance of teaching, and I think, most importantly, I came to figure out that it’s something I’m really passionate about… And I think any job that you go into, if you can find that thing that really drives you to do your best, it’s gonna help you to be the best at what you’re doing—and nothing else will.”

With great power, comes great responsibility

Both Williams and Smith give the impression of having given teaching and its importance a great deal of thought; in no way is it just a pay cheque to them. But, Smith argues, that’s to be expected, as teachers have a great deal of responsibility.

“Socialising society is the role of schools, and not so much parents anymore,” he says.

“All these issues in the paper, like mobile phone bullying, that sort of stuff, you don’t hear them going, ‘Oh, what’s wrong with the parents or the church they go to or the movies they watch’—it’s the school that takes the flak, and that’s because we think it’s now the school’s job to turn our kids into who we want them to be. And that’s why we spend all our money on education—it’s the best tool our government has in society.”

The upshot of this, Smith remarks, is that teaching is perceived to be the answer to “‘that ambulance at the bottom of the cliff’ cliché that they throw around.

“[With education] you want to try and do the early intervention stuff, so you’re not only dealing with the courts system and putting people in jail,” he says. “By that stage, [there’s] a really big struggle to get them out of that mindset. A lot of legal work was going through the motions and being part of a system which has some really big flaws.”

For Amer, on the other hand, teaching impacts on an individual basis.

“I don’t know about shaping future generations, but every child and family I have a chance to interact with, I hope I can make a difference in their lives.”

Williams, too, notes that teachers’ responsibilities don’t begin and end with learning: “It’s no different from being a parent sometimes, and in fact… you can be considered the ‘third parent’.

“To some degree, the teacher can be that ear to listen to. And it can be helpful to have a teacher you know you can trust, [especially] when you as a student get older. Your ego has landed, as it were; you’re more independent, but you still may need guidance. It may be [about] something that you can’t talk about at home, or you may need to be able to talk about it because it’s related to school. So a teacher, I think, should be seen as someone who is approachable in that way, and not everybody is.”

So, schools owe it to their students, their students’ parents, their wider society, and the government to make a positive contribution. Surely this must place a great deal of pressure on teachers?

Williams points out that the introduction of NCEA and National Standards—both of which have been maligned by many within the education sector—has in fact alleviated some of the burden by acting as “a safety net for the pupils, as well as the teachers, as well as the parents, as well as society.

“There’s always been a cry from society to know what our children know… ultimately, society needs to know what people are capable of,” he says. “Not every employer, or prospective employer, is going to look and see what NCEA passes or achievements a student has, but some will. National Standards are a benchmark that people can point to… You know what you want your students to be able to do, and society knows what they expect people to be able to do… [but] beyond that, it’s up to the teacher, and how well they facilitate the learning.”

Perception versus reality

Williams is certain that most people don’t understand the reality of teachers’ workloads.

“A lot of people will see teachers as people that work from 9.00am ‘til 3.00pm, get those six weeks off here and those two weeks off here, but the reality is quickly borne by when you start at [teachers’ college at] university,” he points out.

“You’re in there by 8.00am to have things ready for that day, and you’re then there ‘til maybe five, and then you maybe take stuff home. It doesn’t really stop.”

Smith agrees.

“It is a really tough profession, and it is an all-consuming profession. I did some teaching at a polytech in Gisborne and I was really struck by how I couldn’t leave it at the desk. You always carry these ideas about your education, and if you’re really passionate about being the best teacher you can be, then you’re always going to be thinking about that.

“And there’s always more you can do to be better—things like turning up to a kid’s soccer game on Saturday morning. If you’re trying to be the best, your weekends aren’t really yours.”

Williams says a certain level of selflessness is required to enter the profession.

“I don’t think teachers are out there to get the kudos, to get the glory, they’re out there to teach—and teaching as a profession is not one that calls for the limelight, because if anyone’s to go in the limelight, it’s the students.”

It seems clear that those who pursue teaching for the holidays and the salary are in for a shock. In any case, though, Williams is confident that those who go into education for the wrong reasons “will be found out.

“That’s the way teaching works. They’ll soon realise I can’t do this, or the kids will say—pfft, yeah. You can’t teach.”

Tovah Rachelle Reed, a student delegate at the Karori campus studying towards a graduate diploma in Performing Arts and English, sums it up.

“If it was only a job, we wouldn’t be in it for long,” she says. “If it was only a job, we wouldn’t bust our guts making lesson plans that work, and building trust and relationships with the students. And if was only a job, we would probably choose a better paying one for the amount of effort and energy we put into it.

“Teaching will always be more than my job—it’s a never-ending learning opportunity. Not all teachers can shape a student’s future, but I hope I definitely nudge a lot of them along their way.”

For a minstrel of love, social media can be a loud and stirring instrument. But what if the intentions aren’t so pure? Salient explores what can happen when love meets the Internet.

During your first week at university, you meet a lot of people. And by ‘meet’, I mean—you learn their name, but you’re too intimidated to talk to them, and so you look them up on Facebook. You discover that you have friends in common, similar taste in music, a mutual love of Arrested Development—you even both attended that party that time.

Don’t worry: we all do it. Facebook pours oil on the stormy waters of social interaction, flagging shared interests and potential conversation starters. It can be a great tool for forging or reinforcing friendships—but Facebook can also be used for altogether more sinister purposes. What do you do when a ‘Like’ becomes one ‘Like’ too many? When your inbox is flooded with wrathful and poorly-spelled notifications from just one ‘Friend’? When you receive unsolicited ‘Pokes’ time and time again? When a little harmless Facebook-stalking is, in fact, just plain stalking?

Social media was established with the intention of making it easier to keep tabs on your friends—but that extends to people you’ve noticed in lectures, or who live down your street. It’s even possible, with considerable time and dedication, to track down that girl you glimpsed at a sold-out screening of The Room at the Paramount, with whom you have no mutual friends. As a result, Facebook is a powerful tool for those whose routines bite hard, and resentment rides high—for those who have been torn apart by love, again.

In the eyes of the law, there’s online harassment, and there’s cyber-stalking. In simple terms, online harassment consists of sending unwanted abusive, threatening or obscene emails, which extends to Facebook posts. In contrast, cyber-stalking refers to the use of electronic devices, such as the Internet or email, to pursue another person. New Zealand law has three Acts that deal with harassment in ‘the real world’: the Harassment Act 1997, the Domestic Violence Act 1995, and the Telecommunications Act 2001. As District Court Judge David Harvey outlined in his paper, ‘Cyberstalking and Internet Harassment: What the Law Can Do’, these Acts can be manipulated to cover online offences, thus leading to convictions.

In November last year, 20-year-old Joshua Ashby was sentenced to four months’ imprisonment for posting a photograph of his ex-girlfriend naked on Facebook. In an “irresponsible drunken jealous rage” following a break-up, he accessed his ex-girlfriend’s Facebook account, uploaded a nude photo of said ex-girlfriend, and then removed the account’s privacy restrictions, so that any of Facebook’s 500 million users could view it.

Ashby was found guilty under the seldom-used morality and decency section of the Crimes Act, which restricts the distribution of indecent or immoral subject matter. This was believed to be the first time someone was sentenced for a crime committed using social media under this section of the Act—although his conviction also reflected six other charges of threatening to kill, willful damage, theft and assault, which presumably made up the majority of the sentence.

Be that as it may, Ashby’s is just one in a string of stories that reassert the need for caution when operating on the internet. Although you might not have nude self-portraits published online, it’s still sensible to remember that what you put up on the internet is more or less public information. So, if there’s a moral to the story, it’s this: when it doubt, take it offline.

Students’ associations across New Zealand look set to be left in the lurch, after an amendment to ease the introduction of voluntary student membership (VSM) was defeated in Parliament.

The ACT Party’s Education (Freedom of Association) Amendment Bill, which will see voluntary membership imposed on all students’ associations on 1 January 2012, was debated in Parliament again last Wednesday.

The introduction of VSM is predicted to reduce the membership of student associations and result in the reduction of essential services.

The main topic of debate was an amendment–Supplementary Order Paper (SOP) 203– introduced by the Green Party’s David Clendon. If passed, this amendment would have smoothed the transition to VSM by channelling extra funding to student organisations for the next two years.

The amendment was defeated, meaning that when the bill is passed, student associations will have no extra time to adjust to working in a VSM environment.

Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association president Seamus Brady is concerned that this will place unreasonable pressure on students’ associations.

“If [ACT MP] Heather Roy and the Government weren’t committed to destroying students’ associations and students’ ability to have a meaningful voice, they would support sensible amendments like this.

“It is unreasonable to expect institutions and students’ associations to negotiate funding arrangements and to carry out massive organisational change in such a short period,” he says.

“The select committee recognised this in 2010 and pushed the commencement date out to 1 January 2012—they knew that any transition as a result of such reckless and irresponsible legislation would take longer than allowed at the time.”

ACT on Campus president Peter McCaffrey notes that Clendon’s amendment was based on the Australian government’s introduction of VSM, despite the legislation for the two being different.

VSM was introduced in Australia in mid-2006 but, by 2010, legislation had changed to allow universities to charge up to $250 in compulsory fees to pay for services such as sporting facilities, childcare and counselling.

“Under the Australian bill, membership was made voluntary, but universities were also banned from collecting any fees that weren’t directly related to education, such as for clubs, the gym, welfare or health,” McCaffrey points out.

“The New Zealand bill makes membership to students’ associations voluntary, but still allow universities to collect fees for these essential services. Moreover, at most NZ universities, most of the things listed in the Greens’ SOP are already funded by the university, rather than the students’ association.

“For example, Victoria University—not VUWSA—funds Student Health, Student Learning Support, Financial Support, the Creche, Disability Support, Counselling, Career Development, Accommodation Service and the Recreation Centre—meaning all these things will be completely unaffected by the VSM bill.”

Brady believes that VSM will have a negative impact on the university experience in New Zealand.

“It is unfortunate that such a tiny group of supporters, and a party that is languishing at 1% in the polls, is committed to wrecking the voice, experience, and quality of education of thousands of students at Victoria and around the country currently enjoy. This Bill remains a ideological solution looking for a problem that simply doesn’t exist”.

News Writers

Work with the News Editor to bring comprehensive coverage of student affairs on campus and in wider Wellington. Break stories. Report on what’s going on. Sharpen your writing skills. Cover the 2011 election as it happens, and as it affects students.

Campus Correspondents

Report back on the goings-on at the Pipitea, Te Aro and Karori campuses to your fellow students.

Cartoonists

Make us laugh with your creations. Or not. Serious cartoons are cool too.

Artists/Illustrators

Those of you with a creative bent, grace our pages with your work.

Photographer

We have a camera. Please take photos.

Reviewers

Games, arts, film, music, gigs, books, classical music, food, beer…

Sub-Editors

Make Salinet Salient!

Friends, it is with considerable sadness that I write this, the last ‘Animal of the Week’ of 2010. Since our wild ride began in June, we’ve learned about creatures both cute and clever, random and rare, newsworthy and novel. It’s been a pleasure sharing the natural world’s anomalies with you, and, with your support, the column will return in 2011—come hell, high water or VSM. But this week’s ‘Animal’ may not be around in 2011. That’s an exaggeration: the Chinese giant salamander is currently considered critically endangered, meaning its numbers will have decreased by 80 per cent within three generations—the point is, it’s on its way out, which is a great shame. These things are awesome: the largest species of salamander in the world, they can grow up to 180 centimetres in length. Unfortunately, they very rarely do so, as they’re considered a delicacy in their home country of China, where their habitat is being destroyed and polluted. Wikipedia describes giant salamanders as having “a large head, small eyes, and dark and wrinkly skin”—like Gandhi, a friend remarked, and the description stuck. The Gandhi of the salamander tribe. Now tell me that’s not worth fighting to save.

ANIMAL FACT!
Salient‘s spirit animal is the red panda. Because we are adorable and consume a lot of bamboo.

ANIMAL FACT!
Hamsters, due to their name, are not kosher.

When did I first get the idea to build the ark? I guess the interesting thing is if I look back on what may’ve influenced the decision, it goes way, way back, actually. When I was in my first band—Goldfish Shopping Trolley, GST for short, which later became Opshop—we decided to make a video [for a song] called ‘Put up a Fight’. I won’t go into a whole bunch of detail here, but we ended up filming the majority of it at my landlord’s house, and he lives in a monolithic dome structure.

Norm conceived the idea after he survived a hurricane in Darwin; pretty much all the homes around him had been decimated, apart from the dome house, so he started looking into that. He and his father came up with this structure that’s really unique in the way it’s put together, the details of which I can’t disclose, due to a non-disclosure agreement. But suffice to say, it’s a pretty special place. Norm’s actually lived in this structure for the last 20 years with his family. When I stayed in one of his other places out near Kerikeri, we had a lot of discussions, and in this thing we call ‘Thursday Think Tank’, in which a bunch of like-minded people just kind of… think things through, we eventually got to this point where we’d effectively redesigned an upgrade for his house.

I call it an ark because, you know, if I said to people, “hey, I’m building a bach, it’s a monolithic dome!”, they’d be like, “oh, that’s cool, man”, you know, “that’s nice”. But if I throw something that’s a bit… tangential and provocative in there, it gets people thinking. I think the word ‘ark’ is awesome, because people start going into their own historical archetypes of what that word means to them. Even a conversation I had last night at the Prime Minister’s dinner was “hey, so you’ve got a boat in your backyard, eh, mate?”

That’s really the point. It gets people to start thinking about what an ark is—just to have that conversation about the word. Hopefully they delve into “what was that ark built for?”. The idea is, the natural path you’d follow is, “oh, an ark.

Oh, a flood. Oh, hopefully we’re prepared when anything like that happens.” The ark conversation is about being prepared. I’m not saying I have any answers—I’ve got a lot of questions more than anything, but I want to provoke that discussion, so that we can all evolve from having had it.

I’m not religious in any way, shape or form. My context was a Christian as a kid, because I was brought up in the Catholic church, but I’m probably a practising atheist if anything these days. I read too many Richard Dawkins books, y’know? Don’t get me wrong—he’s not my next saviour either. [The ark is] a structure that, ultimately, is ultra high-tech, off-the-grid, and the start of a sustainable community. That’s what we’re looking at. We’re literally looking at structures that will be able to withstand (according to the engineers that we’ve talked to) earthquakes of 8.1 magnitude plus. I’d rather be in that than a straw house.

I don’t think anyone knows what’s going to happen on 21/12/12. There’s a book called The Mayan Pophecies: Unlocking The Secrets of a Lost Civilisation, by Adrian Gilbert and Maurice Cotterell, and what it says is, ultimately, it’s the end of the great cycle; it’s the end of the Zodiac, and the beginning of it yet again. It’s only literally in the last 10 years or so that we’ve worked out what our universe and our solar system and our Milky Way consists of, but [the Mayans] were only a couple of seconds off predicting full moons and the lunar cycle. They’re just so accurate. They were the skywatchers, the timekeepers. I just think—who are we to say that these people didn’t have something that is worth looking into? I see the discussion as actually a catalyst for people to once again evolve themselves to be prepared for anything, any time, anywhere.

If you look around you, there are more earthquakes of 7.0 magnitude plus at the moment than ever before on our recorded history. 90 per cent of all fish stocks have actually been fished out of the ocean. Most large fish are actually gone; a third of our coral reefs are gone; 70 per cent of the world’s biodiversity is gone. Whether you’re waiting for a particular date, the fact of the matter is, change is happening—so what are we going to do about it? Are we going to be prepared? Are we willing to all stand up as a collective and make a difference, with our government that represents us? And are we going to be prepared to set up
structures and communities?

There’s an idea at the moment to be part of an initiative to create an off-the-grid sustainable community. These things are popping up all over the world, so what we’re doing isn’t necessarily unique—in fact, far from it. We’re borrowing models from all over the place, and trying to integrate into it specific requirements. Not everyone in the community will share exactly the same view, other than having a sense of preparedness, because you just don’t know when and where, or how nature’s going to unleash her fury. Whether it’s to do with the planets aligning with the centre of the Milky Way, or a fault line in Christchurch decides to wreak a little bit of havoc… you just don’t know. At the end of the day, the key message is about being prepared for anything, no matter what, no matter when.

I’ve started up an initiative called Earth Prepared with a couple of like-minded friends, and really, our directive inside of that is to help people be more prepared in whatever way they possibly can, at whatever level they can integrate and afford. We’re going to start making bug-out bags available in the easiest possible places—hopefully, we’ll get [supermarket] chains on board. For Cantabrians especially, there really is a real sense of being at the mercy of nature, and realising that you can simply either be prepared, or not. At Earth Prepared, we realise that there are various levels at which people are willing to integrate at—whether it’s getting a bug-out bag, or building a bunker, or, in inverted commas, ‘an ark’, like we’re doing ourselves. We’re trying to engage on as many levels as possible, with ultimately the key message being, “Are you ready? Are you prepared?”’

I’ve written an album that, to me, incorporates a lot of these concepts. I think an unprecedented number of cultures have predicted this end-time, and that’s effectively why I called the new record Until The End of Time. It’s not the end of the world, it’s the end of time, it’s the end of a grand, great cycle. With the end of a cycle, comes a new one. Just like with the end of night comes a new day, with the end of the month comes a new moon, with the end of the year comes a new year. It’s just on a much grander scale that our little part of human civilisation doesn’t quite involve itself in yet.

From the timeline we’ve got, we’re hoping [the ark] will be done this December. We’d like to have it finished as soon as possible, certainly before the next solar maximum or mythological crossing point. I want to have my bug-out bag ready by tomorrow. But at the end of the day, Norm actually built his external structure in literally two days. We’re not in a hurry; we’re just in project management mode. We’re intending to build whatever works best by the time we’ve collated all the data that we need to. We’ve looked at 20 metre domes, we’ve looked at 15 metre domes, we’re looking at smaller domes… The 300 acres of land that we’ve got set aside for it could potentially house a lot of these domes.

At the end of the day, the ark is a self-sustainable home that incorporates a lot of cultures’ ideas and concepts. That’s really it. It will be something ultra high-tech and modern; something that’s quite extraordinary. In my heart of hearts, I think it’s going to be just the most wonderful thing. Shit yeah, it’s going to look really cool.

Please do not believe a thing I say—go check it all out for yourself, and make your own conclusions, and work it all out for yourself. Your truth may not be the same as mine; it might be slightly different. Hopefully, though, the fact you’ve engaged in a conversation about it means that you’re ultimately more prepared.

Obviously, you throw yourself out for potential ridicule when you start talking about this type of stuff, and I had to make a conscious decision at the beginning about doing that, about sacrificing the lamb for the greater good—taking one for the team, if you like. But I think of Bob Dylan, and that line—I’ve used this quote before, because I think it’s so perfect—“Don’t criticise what you don’t understand, for the times, they are a-changin’”. I love that. You’re either onto it, or you’re not, and either way’s fine. End of story. We’re all human, with the opportunities to make choices for ourselves.

My main objective is to make people consider that events could happen, and that they should be prepared for them. Whenever I get an opportunity to talk about it to the media, it means hopefully, someone sitting at home or in the quad at university gets a moment to have that consideration. And if they’re in a space in their lives where they feel that they want to go a bit further down the rabbit hole to check it out, then, that’s great. If not, that’s completely their choice, too.

Fish have been underrepresented so far in ‘Animal of the Week’, despite there being 31,500 species to choose from—but perhaps that’s the problem. Having decided that the penultimate ‘Animal’ was to be a cold-blooded, aquatic vertebrate covered in scales, I was faced with the task of choosing a particular kind. The handfish, which ‘walks’ along the seafloor on its ‘hands’? The blobfish, dubbed the most miserable-looking fish in the world, due to the morose ‘expression’ on its ill-formed ‘face’? In the end, I chose the anglerfish: the buck-toothed, grotesque poster girl for life in the deep sea. If you’re as avid a fan of nature documentaries as I am, you’ll be familiar with the anglerfish’s namesake: the fleshy growth sprouting from its head, which lures its prey close enough for it to devour. A nice example of how evolution works, but old news—what’s more interesting about the anglerfish is its method of reproduction. The male is a great deal smaller than the female, so in order to exchange genetic material, he latches on to her with his teeth and fuses with her body, down to the blood-vessel level. First, he loses his digestive organs, then his brain, heart, and eyes, until he is nothing but a pair of testicles that release sperm into her bloodstream. Clearly, the female anglerfish wears the pants—and, hem, her boyfriend’s gonads—in this relationship.

ANIMAL FACT!
Dolphins designed the Large Hadron Collider.

From that point onwards, travel will likely either be a strategic move (you get paid more in Australia, I hear), or much further down the track.

At this point in our lives, we’re more flexible and foolhardy than we’ll ever be. When we end up in nine-to-fives, will we regret choosing that MacBook Pro over two weeks spent backpacking in Thailand? Maybe. When we’re climbing the career ladder, will we be able to take a month out to travel on a shoestring around Asia, around South America, around Europe—or all three—and back again?

Probably not. So, why don’t we make the most of the world’s opportunities, while we have the chance?

Going it alone

“I guess it’s just about opposing the conventional path of the young adult in New Zealand,” says Tammie Blundell, a 19-year-old first-year student of Religious Studies, Environmental Science and Theatre, who spent ten months travelling solo around Europe upon finishing high school.

Blundell talks quickly; her conversation is littered with place names, time frames, and allusions to anecdotes.

“In March, I flew to Hong Kong—stayed there for a week, couch-surfing with some randoms. Then I flew to Germany, and worked on vineyards for almost two months with some crazy old German men, who were kind of fun,” she says. “I hitchhiked all around Germany, went down to France—spent a couple of months there, went tramping, went festivalling… just had good times.

“Then I decided I was going to go to Spain, so I went to Spain, then I travelled around Morocco by myself, then back up to Spain, then to Portugal, then flew back to Germany, then to San Francisco—and then home! That’s the basic outline of ten months.”

At first, Blundell intended to spend the duration of her OE in Germany, learning the language and working in the film industry, in which she had contacts. Her plan “evolved” as she made new friends who had different travelling agendas.

“I kept on meeting people, and they’d pull me further south, and further south, and further south, and I just got to this point where I was like—screw it, I’m going to keep travelling. I’m here, so I might as well.”

Blundell says she purposely went to places where she didn’t speak the language, and put herself in situations that were completely alien.

“You’d just meet people and you’d instantly be on the same level,” she says. “You’d connect somehow.

“I WWOOFed [Willing Workers On Organic Farms] for a while in the middle of Spain for a couple of weeks, and I couldn’t speak Spanish at all, so we communicated through music,” she says.

“We played guitars, ate lots of paella, got really pissed… it was great.”

Blundell recommends travelling alone (“yeah, shit yeah”), as it forces you out of your comfort zone.

“When you meet new people, they don’t judge you by the person you’re with,” she says. “They just see you, directly for who you are…

“Or who they think you are, or who you want to be,” she adds. “Also, all the decisions you make are completely up to you; it’s more of a personal journey than a team mission.”

Blundell dismisses suggestions that travelling alone is more dangerous than with others. She hitchhiked everywhere, and estimates that of the ten months she spent overseas, she paid for accommodation for a total of just 12 nights. The vast majority of time, she couch-surfed, using the website http://www.couchsurfing.org.

“Everybody says ‘oh, that’s brave of you’, but you just need to be street smart, and have your head screwed on in the right direction. It’s something you learn as you go, really—you find the courage while you’re doing it.

“I mean, I had the odd scary experience… But I have this theory that 99 per cent of the time, it’s going to work out—like with hitchhiking. That one per cent of the time that happens to some people, that you hear about in the media—well, it’s not worth thinking about. If you go through life freaking about that one per cent, you’re not going to get anywhere.”

Blundell carried a Swiss army knife on her for her entire trip, but she only needed to draw it once: while wandering the suburbs of Barcelona at 4am, she realised she was being followed.

“That was the first time where I actually felt I needed to have my knife in my hand, and that was the only time,” she says. “But it was actually fine.”

Blundell notes that her experiences have added to her studies.

“Travelling like that takes you out of the system completely; you’re not institutionalised anymore,” she says.

“So coming back to that—where you can’t just go down to the road, stick your thumb out, and say, ‘I’ll go where you’re going’, which is something I like to do—was pretty hard, actually. But it also gave me a range of opinions and ideas that I’m actually able to apply to my studies, now that I’ve been there and done that.

“You also learn to really appreciate showers, internet—a mattress, if you’re lucky… and if not, then, you don’t care anyway, because you’re a cool person.”

A role in the community

Meg Howie, a student of design at Massey University, echoes Blundell’s sentiment that travel—and total immersion in another culture in particular—prompts people to reassess their priorities. Last year, she and other 13 school leavers spent six months in Vanuatu, teaching classes of Year 4 students maths, English, social studies, general science, PE and art, through Lattitude Global Volunteering.

“They came to our school, and did the little blurb,” remembers Howie. “Most people go to work in boarding schools in England and Scotland, that kind of thing, but they also do six months’ teaching in Vanuatu.

“When I first heard about it, I thought it would be a really cool thing to do, if I was the kind of person that did crazy things like that. Then I realised: if I did it, that would automatically make me that kind of person.”

Howie notes that the 13 other volunteers—all Australians, bar for one other New Zealander—got involved in the programme because they were Christian, or because they wanted to be teachers.

“I didn’t really want to do either of those things, and, in six months, I wasn’t too focused on making a big difference in the world or anything,” she says. “Just knowing that I’d have a role in the community was really cool. Also just to see other cultures, get that experience…”

Upon arriving in Vanuatu, the 14 volunteers were split into pairs and based on different islands around Vanuatu.

“I lived with another girl from Wellington—we lived in a little bamboo hut in the village,” says Howie. “We had a week of orientation with the volunteers that were there before us, and one day of teaching workshops. The rest was kind of culture stuff.”

Howie found teaching “physically exhausting”.

“I don’t think I ever realised this at school, but it’s a lot of work—especially primary school,” she says, wide-eyed. “The whole day, you don’t stop for a moment: you’re constantly trying to juggle all the kids who want attention, you have to be onto it all the time. It definitely helped my work ethic a lot—and I definitely don’t want to be a teacher.”

In the school holidays, Howie and the other volunteers decided to travel to a neighbouring island for two weeks of respite.

“It was kind of hard to organise because we’d have cellphone reception sometimes, while the other people in other villages would have cellphone reception sometimes. Everyone only had a vague idea of what everyone else was doing.”

Eventually, the 14 of them arranged to catch a cargo ship from Vila to Santo.

“We left two days early, because everything happens really, really slowly over there… which is lovely when you get used to it, but frustrating if you need to get somewhere.

“The cargo ship didn’t come. We weren’t too surprised by that—it’s Vanuatu,” says Howie. “The next day, it came at about 3am, and we were just waiting on the beach ‘til then.

“It was so cool, because our other friends from the villages further down the coast were already on the boat, and we hadn’t seen them for about four months. We all got onboard, and found a little space about the size of a picnic table for the six of us; someone gave us a straw mat, and everyone slept on piles of rice and timber.”

The experience has made Howie “feel like there’s kind of a lot more to [her]”.

“You have more of a sense of what you’re capable of,” she says. “You think: I can get myself to this place; I can really do this stuff. Everything you see and experience adds to who you are. I feel like the more I see and do, the more of a person I am.”

Her six months in Vanuatu also taught her the value of money.

“For uni, I have to buy a lot of art supplies, and living in Wellington, you tend to just go out and buy stuff, whereas [in Vanuatu] we got paid $30 a month between us for living expenses—and we didn’t spend it,” she laughs. “There was one shop, and it had, like, crackers and oil and tomato sauce for sale, and that was it. On average, I bought one thing every two weeks; it’s just cool knowing I could do that.”

A fortnight after returning to New Zealand, Howie headed off again: this time, to South East Asia with one of her fellow volunteers and his friend.

“It was very much ‘I’ve just been working for six months, and I’m just going to just—have fun’,” says Howie. “One of the best things about both trips was meeting people, but the people I was meeting in Asia were other travellers. Immediately, you have something in common with them: you’re backpacking, we’re backpacking… but I didn’t really engage with the culture, or get the same kind of understanding of it, as I did in Vanuatu.”

Howie is returning to the village for a month in January next year.

“It’s really amazing—lovely, lovely people; gorgeous kids,” she says. “Living in a village is so incredibly different; I’ll keep going back for the rest of my life.”

Howie agrees that taking a working holiday in another English-speaking country is not really ‘travel’.

“It doesn’t really count,” she says. “I’m sure you still have really good times, but… yeah.”

Travel broadens the mind, they say; well, it also makes the shit you study seem more relevant. Understanding and knowledge of cultures other than your own gives you new perspective; as hackneyed as the term is, it turns you into a ‘global citizen’. And in a country as isolated from the rest of the world as New Zealand is, that’s no bad thing.

Above all, though, what Blundell and Howie’s stories both illustrate is the allure of travel: catching a ride with whichever car that stops; sleeping on a new couch every night; waiting for the cargo ship, even when it doesn’t show up. These are the experiences you’ll remember for the rest of your life—not the time you got your first iPod. Make the most of the flexible lifestyle you enjoy as a student: take some time off university, and get out of New Zealand.

In May this year the door was shut: the University Council announced that Victoria University would accept no new domestic undergraduate admissions for the rest of 2010. The decision was unexpected—as VUWSA President Max Hardy told Salient at the time, it disadvantaged students who had been acting on the “entirely reasonable assumption that admissions would remain open”.

However, Vice Chancellor Pat Walsh put forward the case that the University had no other option if it was to meet its “legal obligations” to the Tertiary Education Commission (TEC). If left unchecked, student numbers were forecast to reach 110 per cent of the ‘cap’—the number of equivalent full-time students (EFTS) that the TEC is prepared to fund, as negotiated in an institution’s individual investment plan. Victoria was therefore compelled to restrict enrolments, or stretch staff workloads and teaching resources.

Closing enrolments, then, was an effective stopgap for 2010—but patently not workable as a long-term solution to the issue of increasing demand versus financial restrictions. The Council has been aware that it would have to implement more enduring measures since as early as mid-2009: minutes of a meeting held on June 29 concede that “in the near future, the University would be forced into a position of managing enrolments, and the Council would need time to consider this in the context of quality and equity issues”.

A Managed Enrolment Working Party was convened, and tasked with devising a process and methodology for a fully managed enrolment system, to be implemented for the 2011 enrolment period.

“The recommendation from the Working Party to manage enrolment by controlling first-year admission numbers was the result of considerable review, analysis and debate,” says Deputy Vice-Chancellor (Academic), Professor Penny Boumelha. “Managing enrolments was necessary to ensure the quality of our teaching, and [that] learning outcomes for enrolled students was not compromised by taking on too many unfunded students.

“The University has been actively managing numbers since 2008 through a variety of mechanisms, but from 2011, there will potentially be funding consequences if the University exceeds targets—so careful consideration was given to what changes needed to be put in place,” she says.

“The way we have chosen to manage our enrolments for 2011 onwards is based on academic merit. This will have positive flow-on effects as students work towards gaining their qualification.”

Removing the guesswork from the GES

Professor Boumelha is referring to the most significant of the changes made to undergraduate enrolments: a ranking system known as the Guaranteed Entry Score (GES). Secondary school students seeking admittance to Victoria from 2011 will now have to achieve the GES as well as University Entrance (UE) in their final year of NCEA, Cambridge or Baccalaureate assessment. The GES for all undergraduate degrees is 120 points; achieving this (and UE) guarantees a student admission to university.

The GES enables Victoria to order prospective students based on their Level 3 results and qualification type. A student’s rank score is calculated from their 80 ‘best’ credits (which are weighted by level of achievement) in UE-approved subjects at Level 3 or higher. As a maximum of 24 credits in each subject are counted, it’s more difficult to achieve than UE—which requires at least 14 Level 3 credits in just two approved subjects, as well as a further 14 Level 3 credits in two domains or approved subjects.

Professor Boumelha does not expect the GES to cut off many secondary students’ access to University.

“We expect that most of our school-leaver applicants will be accepted into a programme,” she says. “The system just means that if we are oversubscribed, we are able to place some limits on the numbers accepted.”

VUWSA President Max Hardy believes the GES will have a greater impact.

“I expect there to be a lot of students who want to go into university that will not be able to, which will be very sad, as we’ll essentially be taking away their opportunity to education,” he says. “Not very many countries would do that to students.

“The other thing is, it may very well be that more students than the University expects will achieve the GES, and get into university, and the whole thing is a farce because student numbers exceed that 105 per cent [cap] anyway. It’s possible.”

Hardy notes that the introduction of the GES will primarily affect secondary school students’ subject choices. He points out that this will result in a “transition issue” for Level 3 students who chose to study subjects that are not UE-approved at the start of this year.

“Basically, it’s possible that the course choices you made at the beginning of the year just to get UE would have been different, had you known that you actually needed [to achieve the GES] from those courses,” says Hardy. “I thought that was particularly unfair on some high school students.”

Hardy also opposed the speed at which the decisions were made.

“When we knew in 2009 that we were going to do this, or something similar, we should have at least told people, or given a year for high school students to actually know the rules that they were going to be facing.”

Rachael Worsley is a Year 13 student at Waimea College in Richmond. She is one such prospective undergraduate that could have been cut off from university by the introduction of the GES, as she intends to start studying towards a conjoint BA/BCA in Psychology and Marketing at Victoria next year.

Worsley says that “unless something goes drastically wrong”, she is “pretty confident” that she will gain both UE and the GES, as all of her subjects are UE-approved.

“I’m really glad this turned out to be the case,” she says. “I have friends at school will struggle to get the [GES] on top of UE, as they’re taking unit standard subjects like Tourism and Psychology.”

The repercussions of rankings

Secondary school students that achieve UE but not the GES will be waitlisted, and accepted if places become available. Maori and Pacific students in this position will be prioritised above others in the same situation, so as to enable the University to meet its equity targets. Applications from students with disabilities who have failed to achieve the GES will be assessed on a case-by-case basis.

“Like all universities, Victoria is very concerned to address any equity implications which could arise from managed enrolment,” says Professor Boumelha. “Victoria is committed to providing sound pathways to university for under-represented groups.

“Maori and Pacific applicants who achieve University Entrance but do not achieve the Guaranteed Entry Score will be admitted, but asked to meet conditions that support their transition into the University and their programme of study.”

While Hardy allows that the University has an obligation to these students under the Government’s Tertiary Education Strategy, he considers this move “contentious in some ways”.
“There are three equity groups considered by the University: Maori and Pacific students, and students from lower socio-economic backgrounds—and [the latter] have not been prioritised, because it was difficult to do so,” Hardy says.

“The only way we could think about doing it was through deciles of schools—but then you’ve got rich kids that go to decile one schools, and poor kids that go to decile 10 schools.”

Victoria’s GES is not the first of its kind to be implemented in New Zealand institutions; in fact, it is more or less identical to the ‘rank score’ that was introduced by the University of Auckland for the 2008 enrolment period.

“Auckland was ahead of other universities,” Hardy says.

“They probably showed more foresight, really.”

The University of Auckland recently increased the requirements of its rank score: enrolment in a Bachelor of Arts now requirements a rank score of 140 points—20 more than are required to study towards the same qualification at Victoria.

“We said we’re going to do the GES like Auckland [University] does, to keep it consistent—which is eminently sensible—and a month later, they said that they were going to increase the score,” Hardy says. “Really, that’s just a bid from Auckland to establish itself as the best university in New Zealand…

“It does get worrying for the sector when universities are trying to differentiate themselves like that. I don’t think you should be playing those games. Victoria, Otago, Canterbury and Auckland—and maybe Massey—want to be the best university in New Zealand, and if Auckland starts [increasing admission criteria], those universities will follow suit, because they don’t want to look like they’re letting in more students.”

Other measures and changes

Although the GES is the most significant addition to the University’s admission requirements for first-year students in 2011, other moves to manage enrolments have also been introduced.

Professor Boumelha says two other “key strategies” will be put in place: firstly, the strict enforcement of enrolment deadlines, and secondly, introducing one primary enrolment period for the whole year. This will mean students must apply for the whole year, before 10 December 2010 for limited entry and distance courses, and 10 January 2011 for all other courses.

The University has also changed how it processes ‘special admission’ applications, from prospective undergraduates who are at least 20-years-old and lacking UE or a relevant Level 4 qualification. These applicants will now be assessed on their ‘university readiness’ by the Admissions Office, and will be ranked into one of four groups—A, B, C and D—based on their results.

Group A applicants, deemed “capable and degree-ready”, will be placed at the top of the waitlist, and will therefore be the first group to be approved into their chosen programmes of study—once all students with guaranteed entry have been admitted. Applicants from Group B will be prioritised lower, while those from Group C will be advised on possible foundation programmes or short courses by the University Preparation Team. Group D applicants will be denied altogether.

“What [the University] used to say is that [special admission applicants] were guaranteed entry, because they had the equivalent to the GES,” Hardy says. “That was the initial plan. Then they realised that they were going to have quite a lot more students than they had thought, and they decided Group A students were actually going to be shortlisted.

“It’s quite concerning, because [prospective students] over the age of 20 went from being guaranteed entry to not being guaranteed entry at all,” he points out. “If a lot of high school students pass well, you’ve got no chance of getting in.”

‘Personal interest’ and ‘discretionary entrance’ applications will continue to be considered. Students who complete the Certificate of University Preparation at another institution with an average grade of ‘B’ will be admitted, as will students who hold a Certificate of Foundation Studies.

However, Hardy notes, the government is attempting to discourage universities from offering foundation programmes such as the CUP (“they want polytechs to do that”), and this could impact peoples’ access to study in future.

“That would really significantly damage peoples’ ability to get into uni, because you’re not only saying we’re not admitting you, but we’re also not going to give you the opportunity to prove that you can upskill yourselves,” he says. “We want [the University] to keep offering those sorts of opportunities.”

The implications of managed enrolments

David Do, Co-President of the New Zealand Union of Students’ Association, believes universities are being forced to manage enrolments because “the government has chosen not to properly invest in higher education.

“This is another symptom of the government failing to properly support increased demand for higher education, and failing to support access to those who need education and upskilling at this time,” he says. “Capped funding is leading to institutions shutting their doors to new enrolments.”

Do points out that managed enrolment will increase competition between secondary school students for entry into universities. This, he says, will widen the gap between “the haves and have-nots—those who went to well-off schools and those who [didn’t]”. He also notes that “academic performance at a university is not necessarily correlated with high school performance”, but ranking systems such as the GES “will shut out potential high achievers”.

“The moves away from open-entry—a system that gave all suitably qualified New Zealanders a fair go—mean that thousands of potential students nationwide have been affected. Maori and Pasifika students… and workers looking to upskill are among those who may miss out.”

While Matt Huntington of Universities New Zealand allows that “the demand for places in our universities is much greater than the number of EFTS the government will fund”, he points out that universities set their own criteria for selection into programmes.

“Note that not all universities are going this route [of managed enrolment].”

For this reason, Hardy wants Victoria to justify its management of enrolments more fully.

“The University’s argument is that each individual student costs money, and if they don’t get more money from the government as they enrol more students, the quality of education will decline,” he says. “We want the University to substantiate that—to actually explain to us how much extra students will cost, rather than just saying, ‘We can’t enrol extra students because it costs too much’, which we don’t accept as a full justification.”

Figures suggest, however, managed enrolments are inevitable, for at least the next few years. A Ministry of Education study, entitled Future demand for tertiary education in New Zealand: 2009 to 2025 and beyond, anticipated in June 2009 that demand was likely to increase in future—not only due to the recession (and associated unemployment and reduced labour market opportunities), but also because of population growth.

“I think demand is projected to increase over the next two years, but it may well drop after that—it fluctuates,” Hardy says. “The recession is used a lot as the reason why, but the two biggest indicators are how many 18- and 19-year-olds there are, and how many people finish seventh form the year before.”

Hardy is right: the study predicts a decline in the number of 18- and 19-year-olds after 2012, which will affect numbers of students enrolling into bachelors-level study. It also explored the potential of managed enrolments:

“If demand for places in tertiary providers increase and this demand is not met… competition will increase for those places that are available… Alternatively, higher standards may be used to reduce student numbers progressing to the next year of study. If this does occur, there are implications for equity of access to tertiary education and the longer-term prospects of increasing New Zealand’s human capital.”

This last point aligns with Hardy’s concerns.

“We think that a university education is a public good—it’s a right. Education is a right for every New Zealander, and tertiary education is one of the ways that we grow as a country, and we bring people out of poverty,” he says.

“Some people would prefer to go towards a more elite system, which doesn’t treat education as a right for everybody. Particularly as tertiary education is paid out of everybody’s taxes—we should all have a right to access it. So I think the big problem is that you’re taking away people’s opportunities to aspire to tertiary education, and that’s a really sad thing.”

The government’s refusal to fund increasing demand for places has put universities in an awkward situation: increase admission requirements and be thought elitist, or allow all comers and foot the bill. It’s clear that the management of enrolments, as contentious as it might be, is an inescapable reality for most tertiary education providers in New Zealand—and until the sector receives considerably more financial support, it’s likely to remain as such for some time.

A team of Victoria University students fell just short of a first placing at the National Negotiation Championships held at Otago University early this month.

Sarah Wilson and Nigel Smith of Victoria’s Faculty of Law were runners-up in the final stages of the negotiation competition, which was held in Dunedin as part of the New Zealand Law Students’ Association’s Conference.

Wilson and Smith lost to a team from Waikato University, who will go on to represent New Zealand at the World Negotiation Championships held in Copenhagen next year.

Students’ aptitude for mooting, interviewing clients and examining witnesses were also assessed in separate competitions, and Victoria students placed second or third in all three.

Genevieve Taylor and Yogesh Patel also placed second in the client interviewing category, and Stephen Whittington and Glen Prentice finished third in the mooting competition. Polly Higbee received a third placing in the witness examination section.

Victoria University Law Students’ Society President Nick Chapman says that the university did “very well”.

“Victoria was the second placed in the President’s Plate, which is the award given to the best performing university across the four competitions,” he says. “We were beaten by one point by Otago.

“All of the competitors did exceptionally well, and we’re very proud of their achievements.”

‘Water bear’ or ‘moss piglet’ are both names by which the tardigrade is commonly known, and both imply that it’s a lot more appealing than it actually is. There’s not a lot cute or cuddly, actually, about the tardigrade; it resembles a bear in its gait only, and even that requires a considerable imaginative leap—or some very potent bear goggles! (Sorry. I’ll stop now.) It is, however, quite a fascinating creature otherwise. Over 1000 species of tardigrade have been documented across the globe, including in mountain ranges above 6000 metres, the deep ocean below 4000 metres, and even polar regions. This is because tardigrades are polyextremophiles, they can survive at almost any temperature, pressure or radiation; they can live for almost a decade without water; and they are the only known animal capable of surviving the vacuum of space. Yes, that’s right—space: tardigrades were present on the Foton-M3 mission into low Earth orbit in September 2007, and returned to Kazakhstan 10 days later unharmed. Makes Laika the dog look a bit shit, really, doesn’t it? Sure, they might not be cute, but cute doesn’t get you far in this life. You don’t survive the impact of 5000 gamma-rays being cute. We’ve got a lot to learn from the tardigrade.

ANIMAL FACT!
If the moon was an animal, it would be the biggest animal.

Email suggestions for an upcoming ‘Animal’ to elle@salient.org.nz

“I want to have your adopted babies!” cries Wallace Wells, Kieran Culkin’s character in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, at a (straight) celebrity. That’s not a line you’d have heard in a mainstream action-comedy flick 20 years ago—and 60 years ago, it’s unlikely that the openly gay Wells would have been on screen at all.

60 years ago society favoured the nuclear family, consisting of a heterosexual married couple, living out in the ’burbs with their 2.5 children and a golden retriever. Modern families don’t necessarily reflect that anymore—if, indeed, they ever did. Two years ago, teachers in the United Kingdom were warned against assuming that all their pupils had a ‘mummy’ and a ‘daddy’; last month, actress Jennifer Aniston enraged FOX News host Bill O’Reilly by pointing out that women no longer “have to fiddle with a man” to have a child; recently, Gossip vocalist Beth Ditto announced her plans to start a family with her girlfriend next year. Today, family units are varied and non-uniform—and attitudes within the media and wider society are rapidly starting to reflect that fact.

Legislation has been slower to catch up. New Zealand’s adoption laws are almost 60 years old, and still largely operate under the assumption that a heterosexual married couple is the only fit unit to raise a child. Under the Adoption Act 1955, a couple can only make a joint application to adopt a child if they are ‘spouses’, which is normally interpreted to mean married. Not only does this rule out civil-unionised heterosexual couples, as well as those in de facto relationships, it also effectively means that same-sex couples are unable to adopt a child together. Individuals can adopt (although single men are not allowed to adopt girls), but de facto, civil-unionised and same-sex couples cannot both be recognised in law as their adopted child’s parents.

“The irony, of course, is that a single man or a lesbian woman is allowed to adopt, but two gay men or two lesbian women can’t,” remarks Tony Simpson, chair of Rainbow Wellington. “That seems to us to be remarkably silly.”

Dean Knight, a senior lecturer at Victoria University’s Faculty of Law and an Associate Director of the New Zealand Centre for Public Law, puts it bluntly: “The law at the moment is a dog’s breakfast. “Everyone knows that our model of a family has changed and become more diverse. The law has got to be updated.”

As Simpson points out, the question is whether the Act should be amended, or replaced altogether. While he allows that there’s “no question” that the legislation needs a complete overhaul (“and I think it’s something that the Law Commission should get its teeth into as soon as it can”), Simpson believes the Act could be extended to include same-sex couples “without too much difficulty”.

He is referring to a precedent-setting adoption case at the High Court in Wellington last month, AMM and KJO, in which Victoria University’s senior law lecturer Claudia Geiringer successfully applied the word ‘spouse’ to one half of a de facto couple. This was the first time the Act’s use of the words ‘spouse’ and ‘couple’ had been understood to refer to anything other than someone in a heterosexual marriage: a small step, but a step nonetheless, in a debate that has made little progress in over five decades.

“The judgement of the High Court makes the point very clearly that, when the Marriage Act was first put together, the meaning of ‘spouse’ had a particular social connotation, which it now no longer has,” notes Simpson. “I would suggest that without doing too much—if any—damage to the language, you could easily extend that meaning to encompass [same-sex couples].”

The issues with the Act

Andrew Geddis is an Associate Professor of Law at Otago University, and blogs on legal matters for Pundit.co.nz. He agrees that the current Adoption Act is “hopelessly outdated”.

“Everyone who has looked at it, including the Law Commission, agrees on this point,” he says. “It’s not just the gay adoption point—that’s actually a bit of a side wind—but rather, the Act’s inability to cope with the variety of changing family arrangements that are a part of modern New Zealand.”

In other words, the Act is inflexible, despite dealing with a matter that calls for a certain level of leeway—as Green MP Kevin Hague points out.

“Nowadays, people talk a lot about open adoption, and how this is a much more healthy process than how adoption used to be done, and that sort of thing,” says Hague. “All of that’s true, except open adoption—where children maintain relationships with their biological parents—actually happens by almost circumventing the law.

“[Open adoption] is not something that the law provides for; it’s entirely a construction that has been put in place because the law is inadequate.”

Geddis points out that the Act also discriminates on a basis of marital status, family status and sexual orientation.

“All of these are prohibited grounds of discrimination under section 21 of the Human Rights Act 1993,” he says. “Note that you also have a right not to be discriminated against by the State under the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990, which was the basis of the recent High Court decision in AMM and KJO.

“Basically, unless you are a married (hence, straight) couple—or, now, a straight de facto couple—you are not allowed to jointly adopt a child, even if you are qualified on every other criteria. That’s discrimination, pure and simple.”

Human Rights Commissioner Joy Liddicoat has 16 years’ legal experience across the public, private and community sectors. She says that the Commission believes same-sex couples should have the same rights and related responsibilities to adopt children as heterosexual couples do.

“Kevin Hague is right to say that the current Adoption Act does not reflect a modern human rights approach,” she says. “We are on public record as saying that the Adoption Act needs to be amended. So, too, is the Law Commission.”

Liddicoat points out that a growing number of jurisdictions, such as the Supreme Court of Mexico, are ruling in favour of same-sex adoption.

“It is unfortunate that [the ruling in AMM and KJO] did not take the opportunity to extend its interpretation of the law, as courts in other countries have done,” she says. “States including Iceland, the Netherlands, Spain, Sweden and the United Kingdom allow same-sex couples to adopt children jointly; Denmark, Germany and Norway permit one lesbian or gay partner to adopt the other’s children.”

Making progress

In August 2009, Hague attempted to revive the private member’s bill that his colleague, Green Party co-leader Metiria Turei, had submitted to Parliament in 2006.

“What it did was specifically expand the definition of ‘spouse’ or ‘couple’ to include de facto couples and couples with a civil union,” Hague says. “That would have had the effect of opening up adoption options to include de facto heterosexual couples; heterosexual couples in civil unions; and same-sex couples—either de facto, or with civil unions.”

When Hague’s bill was not drawn in the parliamentary ballot process, he withdrew it.

“It became apparent to me that there were many, many issues with the 1955 Act, so the just thing to do was to actually address those problems comprehensively—rather than just pick off one issue,” he says. “It was also a practical approach, because the reality is, we could go through all of the processes trying to change this one aspect, and then find that… the whole Act is swept away [later on], anyway.”

Hague now heads a cross-party group of MPs that is working to address the Act’s shortcomings. “The reason for taking this approach is to really try to remove that political point-scoring from this area,” he says. “Adoption inevitably raises really deep and powerful emotional responses, and that can leave people feeling very vulnerable… So there’s huge potential, in discussing adoption, for people to be re-victimised.

“The other frustration is that sort of political point-scoring, or fear of it, is a recipe for inaction.”

Hague points out that the last Labour government, which was in power when the Law Commission filed its report on the Care of Children Act 2004, implemented most of the Commission’s recommendations, but not the one about revisiting the Adoption Act.

“I think part of the reason for that was that Labour was anxious to avoid a fight with National over the issue, and so I want to try an approach that removes that fear of a fight—so that we actually do this with goodwill towards the issue and a preparedness to work together.”

The group first aims to pinpoint the issues with the current Act, and to then explore potential options for addressing them. The best of these will inevitably end up as some form of legislation, although Hague doubts that this will happen before the next election (“it will take as long as it does”).

“It could end up being in a bill that gets adopted by the Government, or it could be a member’s bill that goes in the ballot,” says Hague. “There is also an option that it’s a member’s bill that is allowed to circumvent the ballot, by the leave of the House, so any of those could be the result of this process.”

Hague points out that the cross-party group “has MPs from most parties with an interest in it”, and so, regardless of whoever is in Government at the time he sets about presenting his findings, “they’ll have been involved in the process.

“This is the way to maximally plan for actually getting the legislation through the guards of the Government.”

A contrasting viewpoint

As much as revising the Adoption Act seems to be a commonsense decision, some are against extending adoption options to de facto, civil-unionised and same-sex couples. Bob McCoskrie, of Family First, is of the opinion that only married heterosexual couples should be allowed to adopt.

“It’s not just a gay adoption issue for us.

“At the end of the day, adoption is not about providing a child to a family—it’s about providing a family to a child. And I think the problem with this whole debate is that it’s been taken from an adult perspective [on] adult-centred policies: that it’s about the rights of adults, and we say, no, it’s actually about the rights of children, and what’s in their best interests.”

He points to a “huge quantity of research [and] studies” that shows the stability of the married couple exceeds that of other familial units.

“The research shows that it’s the best environment for a child to be raised,” he says. “We think we should be promoting best practice, and marriage is shown to be the best practice. It’s not perfect, but it’s better by far than other comparisons.”

McCoskrie is quick to point out that not all heterosexual married couples make good adoptive parents.

“Of course, you still do that test of character—no doubt about that. We’re not just saying because they’ve got a marriage licence, they’ve passed Adoption 101.”

However, he believes that to change the legislation to include de facto or same-sex couples would be to add to the “issue with fatherlessness and motherlessness”.

“Nature—which requires a man and a woman for procreation—discloses something of the purpose of nature; that a child’s best interests are served by having a mother and father.”

McCoskrie argues that it is misleading to approach the issue on grounds of discrimination.

“We already discriminate: Child, Youth and Family doesn’t allow single men to adopt girls; couples can’t adopt under the age of 25; adults in [polygamic] relationships can’t adopt; and an adult with a record of violence can’t adopt either.

“You can’t say, look, this policy is discriminating, as we already discriminate,” he says. “We’re doing it based on the best interests of the child… and unfortunately, this whole debate around gay adoption has an adult-centred focus at the moment.”

So McCoskrie believes that the 1955 Act should remain in place?

“It should be tightened up, actually,” he replies. “It’s far too loose. [AMM and KJO] suggested that it’s not just married couples; it can be de facto.

“It’s a very… interesting case,” he says, with a rueful laugh. “But no, we would say draw a line in the sand, and keep it at what was the original intention—which was a married couple.

“So there we are: there’s a bit of a contrast for you, isn’t it!”

The future of adoption in New Zealand

While the ruling in AMM and KJO reignited the issue of New Zealand’s adoption legislation, Knight doubts that the High Court will “be able to make any more tweaks to the law, even if gay couples and civil union couples come knocking on the door.

“The ball is now back in Parliament’s court.”

Justice Minister Simon Power, however, has made it clear that he does not consider reworking the 1955 Act to be on his agenda.

“If the Justice Minister isn’t interested in reform legislation, then it is likely the courts will continue to be asked to revisit the issue,” says Geddis. “As was seen in AMM and KJO, the courts can, and sometimes will, rework statutes to make them work in changing social circumstances. That’s not ideal—Parliament really should have this job—but it’s unavoidable if our MPs aren’t acting.” It looks likely, therefore, that the work of Hague’s cross-party group will be key to any potential reform of New Zealand’s adoption legislation—and that could take some time. However, Hague argues, it needs to be done.

“The Act fossilises the views of society in 1955, and those values have moved on,” he says simply. The ‘current’ Adoption Act is tailored to an understanding of family that is no longer relevant—if, indeed, it ever was, as Simpson notes.

“I grew up in the era to which [McCoskrie] tends to hark back to, and believe me, the arrangements that constituted families were myriad, in my experience,” he says. “You had everything under the sun, really.”

Even disregarding its inconsistency with society, the Act is not entirely effectual from a purely legal perspective, as Geddis points out.

“Why isn’t it in a child’s best interests to have two loving adults, wanting to parent that child, in an ongoing, stable relationship?” he asks. “After all, it isn’t a question of whether gay people should or shouldn’t be parents at all: they already can be and are.

“It’s a question of whether a gay couple should both be recognised as the legal parents of a child—or if only one of them can be recognised as such, while the other is simply a ‘guardian’ of the child, with lesser legal rights, and all the confusion, instability and uncertainty that this creates.”

In this day and age, anything goes in terms of familial units, and it seems illogical to further complicate the process of adoption with out-of-date and immovable legislation. Whether McCoskrie likes it or not, the 1955 Act no longer reflects societal values, and the consensus seems to be that that will have to change—and sooner, rather than later.

Houses were damaged beyond repair, train tracks curved into S-shapes, and chimneys toppled off buildings (and, in one instance, onto someone). Much has been made of Christchurch’s 7.1 magnitude earthquake two weeks ago, and it seems a miracle that no one was killed. However, there were animal casualties; most notably, Orana Wildlife Park lost one of its five black-and-white ruffed lemurs when 10-year-old Gidro, startled by the quake, jumped into the moat surrounding his enclosure and drowned. The life expectancy for ruffed lemurs in captivity is estimated to be around 36 years, so Gidro’s life was tragically brought to a premature end—simply because of his species’ inclination to be “very sensitive to habitat disturbance” (as Wikipedia delicately puts it). If Gidro, in life, behaved in a fashion typical of black-and-white lemurs (and we have no reason to believe otherwise), it’s likely that he would have enjoyed social grooming, assuming a suspensory posture while feeding on fruits and nectar; and moving quadrupedally. The park’s Animal Collection Manager Ian Adams described Gidro as “a fantastic animal to work with [and] a really nice-natured lemur”. Salient and ‘Animal of the Week’ extends their condolences to the surviving four lemurs.

Email suggestions for an upcoming ‘Animal of the Week’ to elle@salient.org.nz

ANIMAL FACT!
Animals would do really well in pub quizzes if they could understand the questions.

Everyone loves a success story, and in the New Zealand arts community, there’s no greater one than that of the Montana World of WearableArt™ Awards Show.

The idea for the now-iconic shows was conceived by Nelson sculptor Suzie Moncrieff. In 1987, she decided to exhibit art on human bodies as an innovative form of promotion for a rural art gallery, in which she was a co-op member. Combined with elements of theatre and dance, the result was a never-seen-before blend of art and fashion—and WOW® was born.

“In those early days, I suspect nobody had any idea of where WOW® was headed,” says Mike Ward, a Nelson-based former Green Party politician, whose hand-painted creation The Emperor’s Entourage won the competition’s prestigious Supreme Award in 2005.

Certainly, it would have been hard to predict the measure of success that WOW® would go on to find. Today—23 years after its humble debut—WOW® is a major event in design, fashion and costume calendars worldwide, attracting over 300 entries from across the globe each year. The annual award shows, now held here in Wellington, contribute a huge amount to the city’s economy and tourism industry; in fact, a study by McDermott Miller for the Wellington City Council estimated that the Montana World of WearableArt™ Awards Show in 2009 gave rise to just over $15 million of new spending.

“The biggest winners are retailers, who see close to $5 million of that,” says David Perks, chief executive of Positively Wellington Tourism.

“Accommodation-wise, Wellington is close to capacity throughout the WOW® awards season, and hoteliers and the like take in somewhere around $4 million as a result of the shows. The hospitality sector sees about $3.5 million through its tills.”

McDermott Miller’s research also indicated that 65 per cent of the Montana World of WearableArt™ Awards Shows’ audiences in 2009 travelled from outside the Wellington region exclusively to see the event. “So we’re looking at well over 20,000 [visitors],” Perks points out.

Clearly, then, it’s hard to argue with WOW®’s popularity. What is less straightforward is the show itself—a fact that its brand and strategy manager Donna Ching acknowledges.

“It’s true—it is hard to describe!” she says.

“One of our biggest strengths as a brand internationally is that we’re so unique, but it can also be our biggest weakness when you’re trying to describe it, as it really needs to be seen to be believed…”

This year’s World of WearableArt™ shows will be the eleventh that Ching has worked on. Her involvement with WOW® began in 2000, when Moncrieff and competition director Heather Palmer asked Ching to be a part of the show’s full-time management team.

“At this stage, the show was a three-night event with a total audience of 7,500, and we had no permanent home or base,” remembers Ching.

“The main appeal was the commitment, vision, and shared fun of working alongside two inspiring people. It was really a passion for me, and I never thought about it from a career or financial perspective.

“You can’t experience anything quite like WOW® anywhere else in the world,” Ching continues.

“I love the quote from Bob Haven, professor in Costume Technology at Kentucky University in the United States, who, after his first experience of entering WOW®, said, ‘athletes have the Olympics; actors have the Oscars; musicians have the Grammys; and designers and costume creators have WOW®’.”

Unlike those honours, however, WOW® isn’t exclusive. As the competition is open-entry (and judging is ‘blind’), a butcher, a baker, or even… well, a former politician has just as much chance of winning the Supreme Award as a professional costume designer does. However, the standard of entries is high: to be successful in the competition, a design has to have visual impact on a 40-metre arena stage, as well as demonstrate a high quality of workmanship—in other words, a work of art with the WOW® factor.

Room to grow

Thanks to the passion and perseverance of Moncrieff, Palmer, Ching and the rest of the team, WOW® soon outgrew Nelson. In 2005, WOW® management decided to move the awards shows to Wellington, as part of a four-year contract with the Wellington City Council.

“Certainly, we believe that Wellington was the natural and right step for the show to take in its journey to reach an international audience,” says Perks.

“Since their first year in Wellington they have increased their audience size by over 30 per cent.”

This decision was hotly contested by Nelsonians. Those who had supported WOW® since its infancy saw it as a uniquely Nelson experience—and moving it across the Cook Strait was perceived as a slight to the city in which it had flourished.

While Ward allows that the move to Wellington “opened up more possibilities” for WOW®, he points out that, as home to the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, the New Zealand Ballet and Sir Peter Jackson’s movie-making, Wellington “might be expected to produce ‘spectacular’”.

“Call me parochial,” says Ward, “but I like to think WOW® presented as an even more remarkable achievement—and a more intimate experience—against the backdrop of a modest provincial city, and that it would have continued to develop had it stayed here.

“The move was a great loss to Nelson, and in fact, came as a shock to most Nelsonians. If the city thought that there was any chance of getting it back, I believe it would [endeavour to].”

Ching maintains that WOW® had to move to Wellington if the brand was to develop both commercially and creatively, as it had “outgrown the infrastructure of a smaller city”.

“Nelson had nurtured this event—and we’re so proud of our Nelson roots—but the event had to grow for it to continue to be successful, and Wellington was the natural choice…

“The full-time WOW® team are based in Nelson—we’re a bit like a travelling circus, and move to Wellington for the three-week period of the shows,” she says.

“So the show is still effectively produced out of Nelson.”

Nelson is also recognised at the competition’s home throughout the year, due to the WearableArt™ & Classic Cars Museum, in which a selection of successful entries in the competition are displayed.

“Often, the first experiences international people have of WOW® is the Museum, and they get inspired to enter or see the show,” says Ching.

“There’s a really nice cross-promotional opportunity between Nelson and Wellington—the show promotes the Museum in Nelson, and the Museum promotes the Wellington show.”

Opening doors

Of course, WOW® is more than just a spectacle for tourists and a cash-cow for councils. Entering WOW® presents designers and creative types with the chance to challenge themselves—as well as the opportunity to make contacts in a competitive industry. In the case of 24-year-old Claire Prebble, her success in WOW® led her directly to Richard Taylor’s Weta Workshop.

Having entered WOW® 14 times, Prebble—who grew up in Golden Bay—is a comparative veteran of the competition. She gave up on conventional schooling at the age of 13 in order to pursue alternative forms of education, which allowed her more time with which to pursue her passion.

“I got involved at a really young age, and I just really, really enjoyed entering each year,” she recalls.

“I got a real buzz from seeing my costumes up on stage, and meeting all the other artists.”

She did not struggle to come up with ideas for entries.

“Sometimes I’d just have a visual idea, and I’d have to figure out a way to make it happen,” she says.

“There might’ve been some years where I’d get stuck and have to think quite a lot about what I was going to make, but that wasn’t very often… Sometimes, I’ll have ideas for costumes, and they’ll be there for years and years—it’s just a matter of when is the right time to do them.”

In 2004, aged 18, Prebble became the youngest-ever recipient of the Supreme Award for her creation Eos, which was made of sterling silver wire, copper wire, beads and silk. In order to achieve a striking stage presence, she paid particular attention to extending the design’s wings, ram’s horns, and train.

“She was a real visual thing for me, and then I came up with the concept of what she meant,” says Prebble.

“I found out that Eos was the Greek goddess of the dawn, and that worked really well, because I worked on her so many nights ‘til dawn… It all just sort of—fell together.”

Prebble used her winnings to travel for six months, in order to broaden her knowledge of international approaches to design.

“I’d been itching to travel for so many years; it was something that I really wanted to do,” she says.

“Growing up in Golden Bay, it’s only, like, 5,000 people—so I’d never even really used public transport!

“It was a huge learning curve, and probably one of the best things I’ve ever done.”

Prebble met Sir Richard Taylor of Weta Workshop through WOW®.

“I just kept in touch with him, and a couple of years later—maybe in 2006 or 2007—I was up in Wellington for the Montana World of WearableArt™ Awards Show, and I asked him if there were any projects going on,” she remembers.

“I was actually interested in being involved in Halo, but he said—well, there’s this project happening, and if you want the job, you can start tomorrow. So I flew home, and packed my bags, and came back up, and that was my 21st birthday.”

That job turned out to be designing costumes and weapons for James Cameron’s blockbuster, Avatar. Prebble worked on the movie for nearly three years, basing herself both in New Zealand and the States.

As an independent contractor, Prebble is employed to work as and when she is needed: “I keep busy with my own bits and pieces,” she says.

“Jewellery, costume work, fashion, a little bit of teaching… I get up to a real mixture of things.

“I’ve got something else on at the moment, and I’m putting all my energy into that—it’s a personal project, a costume that I’ve been thinking about for the past five years, and I’ve finally got the time to make it.”

For this reason, Prebble has not entered WOW® this year, although she has nothing but praise for the competition.

“The whole impact of the show is so spectacular and over-the-top, and it just creates such a wonderful atmosphere,” she enthuses. “It gave me such a buzz [to enter]. And it was so wonderful to meet a whole bunch of creative people who were so into it as well, and so encouraging. That would be what it’s about for me, really.”

A practical application

22-year-old Emma Whiteside graduated with a Bachelor of Industrial Design with Honours in 2009. That same year, she entered Queen Adelaide, a design made of recycled automotive radiator copper, into WOW®’s Shell Sustainability Award.

“I entered that year because it was my last year at university, and I still wanted to enter as a student,” she explains.

“I was a dancer growing up, so I quite liked the idea of relating performance to my design degree—and because I can’t sew, I wanted to push myself into doing something different.

“One of the main reasons I entered WOW® was because I wanted to do something outside uni, using my design skills in the real world.”

Working on Queen Adelaide during her Honours year was “an amazing amount of work.

“I was in my second-to-last semester of my final year at uni, and I was doing three papers: two industrial design core papers, and a fifth-year research [paper] that I was silly enough to take on—again, just because I wanted to push myself.

“So by doing WOW®, I took the risk of my grades going down,” she explains.

“But they turned out all right,” she adds, with a slight smile.

Whiteside started designing her entry with a medium in mind: scraps of automotive radiator copper, which she gathered from a factory in Auckland.

“My parents used to own the factory, so I grew up playing around with this material when I was little, and I really wanted to use it,” she says.

“I’d also used the material to make a light in my second year at university, so I knew it’d work really well with stage lights going into it.”

She used aluminium hoops as a framework for a fabric dress, which the copper parts were then sewn onto. Working with fabric was a “huge challenge” for her.

“When I started putting the dress together and it wasn’t even holding itself up—that was a big problem,” she says.

“I was going to give up then. And the next time that I thought it wasn’t going to work out was at 4 o’ clock in the morning before it was supposed to be sent, and I was still sewing copper onto the dress!”

To be eligible for the Shell Sustainability award, an entry has to be made of at least 85 per cent recycled materials. Whiteside reinforced the visual spectacle of her design with a strong and relevant concept.

“The reason I called it Queen Adelaide was because Queen Adelaide was quite a resourceful queen—she didn’t like spending public money, so at her coronation, she decided to take out all the jewels of her old crown and put them into her new one. She was sort of the ‘recycling queen’.”

Whiteside’s success in WOW® opened a number of doors for her: most notably, she was commissioned to build a giant bamboo globe for the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF), which was then exhibited at Te Papa. At the moment, however, she is focusing on developing her newly-minted furniture and lighting design business, which she has started with a fellow design graduate.

Whiteside believes WOW®’s appeal lies in its lack of elitism: “It’s not biased, there’s no hierarchy about whether you’re a professional or not… anyone can enter. That’s the thing that captures designers to enter.

“And for the spectators… it’s the fact that it’s not just a fashion show on a catwalk. It’s more like a circus, or a whole theatre production. That’s what keeps people coming back every year.”

Image: ‘Firebird’, Susan Holmes, Auckland. Winner of the 2009 Untouched World WOW Factor Award. Photo courtesy of World of WearableArt Ltd and edited by Salient.

Email suggestions for an upcoming Animal of the Week to elle@salient.org.nz. Only five to go!

ANIMAL FACT!
Animals wish they were your best friend—if only you noticed their existence.

Broken Social Scene
San Francisco Bath House 07/08/10

I spent $300 on seeing the Pixies play Christchurch, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.

Just kidding-the Pixies were awesome, thanks, and the Doolittle shirt’s pretty good, too. But I couldn’t help but feel just a little cheated when I saw a superior performance at good ol’ San Fran less than a week later-and for a sixth of the total cost of my mission south. In fact, Canadian indie outfit Broken Social Scene’s show on 7 August was one of the best I’ve ever seen, and though the CBS Canterbury Arena compares unfavourably with the intimacy of the Bath House, the thrill of the gig had more to do with the band’s charisma, their energy, and the audience’s evident elation at being present.

Even though I’m not enamoured of Broken Social Scene’s latest album Forgiveness Rock Record, it came to life when played-well, live. Opener ‘World Sick’ took on a new spaciousness when experienced in person; ‘Texico Bitches’ transformed into a vivacious, playful romp. The triumphant ‘Meet Me in the Basement’, the last track of the set, showcased the brass section, at least two members of which were Wellington musicians.

Naturally, though, it was old favourites such as ‘Fire Eyed Boy’ and ‘Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Half)’ that elicited the biggest response from the crowd. It was clear that most present were long-standing fans of the band, and frontman Kevin Drew-a personable chair of the fuid, frenetic assembly on stage-seemed to bask in their near-palpable adulation.

Fellow founding member Brendan Canning treated the audience to ‘Love is New’, from his 2008 solo album Something for All of Us, while current touring frontwoman Lisa Lobsinger ably flled the shoes of Leslie Feist and Emily Haines on tracks such as ’7/4 (Shoreline)’ and ‘Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl’ (yep: Wellington heard it, Auckland didn’t). Drew’s intimate solo rendition of ‘Lovers Spit’ sent girls reeling into the arms of their boyfriends and even (I have it on reliable authority) moved a couple of young men to tears, much to the derision of other young men present.

The band’s apparent delight in performing, coupled with their audience’s effervescent energy, made for a never-to-be-repeated gig, yet friends who saw them play San Fran in early 2008 maintain that they were just as good then. Broken Social Scene is best experienced live: make sure you catch them on their next trip down under. And buy the t-shirt, too-you’ll still get value for money.

Email suggestions for an upcoming ‘Animal of the Week’ to elle@salient.org.nz.

ANIMAL FACT!
Animals would win the Olympics if they were allowed to enter.

* This is less of a direct quote, so much as it is the general ‘vibe’. What, this isn’t news, this is ‘Animal of the Week’.

Email suggestions for an upcoming Animal of the Week to elle@salient.org.nz.

Email suggestions for an upcoming Animal of the Week to elle@salient.org.nz.

The New York Times reported that more than 20,000 people and 1400 vessels were involved in containment and cleanup efforts, recovering around 13.1 million gallons of oil-water mix—and 745-odd dead animals. Approximately 60,683 square miles of ocean—equating to 25 per cent of federal waters in the Gulf—were closed to fishing, while the government and BP worked fruitlessly to stem the ruptured well.

On 1 June, here in New Zealand, Energy and Resources Minister Gerry Brownlee announced that the government had awarded a five-year exploration permit to the world’s fourth-largest energy company, the Brazilian giant Petrobras International Braspetro BV, granting them the right to drill a 12,330-square kilometre area off the east coast of the North Island.

To make such plans in the middle of the biggest environmental disaster in the United States’ history sounded like a “bad joke”, to quote Greenpeace. Petrobras’ credentials failed to impress the Green Party and East Coast iwi Ngati Porou, but Brownlee made it clear that he did not intend to back down.

Those in the industry are quick to point out that Petrobras has only been awarded a permit to explore, not to mine, and so the potential for damage is currently limited. The Green Party and Greenpeace refute this, describing it as irresponsible to drill at all while the cause of the Deepwater Horizon blowout is unknown. It’s fair to say that although it’s too early to predict what Petrobras’ investigation may lead to, there is already plenty of debate.

The bidding process

On 10 December 2008, the Ministry of Economic Development (MED) released the Raukumara Blocks Offer to international tender until 28 January 2010. The proposal covered two permit areas over the Raukumara Basin, a 25,000 square-kilometre area north of East Cape, at the northern end of the East Coast Basin.

The term ‘bid’ is misleading, as the companies involved (which the government refuses to identify, thus ensuring “the integrity of the blocks offer process”) did not offer a monetary amount. Instead, they specified a work programme that, if they were successful, they would execute in the area. Petroleum Exploration and Production Association of New Zealand (PEPANZ) executive officer John Pfahlert explains:

“Money is one aspect—i.e., they do actually have to have the money to do the work they say that they are going to do, but they bid to do a certain programme of work, which generally ends with the drilling of an exploration well.”

The government evaluated the programmes that they received in order to ensure that they were feasible and “supported by the financial and technical capability needed to give effect”. Although this seems somewhat ambiguous, Pfahlert insists that the factors taken into account by the government were not “opaque”: rather, “a bunch of criteria” was recognised.

“The reputation of the company, their track record overseas, the amount of money they’ve got behind them, the likelihood that they will deliver on the work programme, the expertise they may bring to New Zealand,” he lists. “Those sorts of things.”

Petrobras—the largest company in Latin America, present in 28 countries—successfully secured the rights to explore Raukumura Basin. Its oil and gas reserves in 2008 alone equated to 15.1 billion barrels, while according to the company’s website, its 2009-2013 business plan predicts “investments in the order of $174.4 billion real”—approximately NZ$137.2 billion.

Pfahlert doubts that the government was concerned by whether a particular company’s practices were considered environmentally friendly or not, as there are other processes in place to monitor this.

“Generally, I wouldn’t expect it to have a high weighting [in the decision making process], no,” he says. “Simply because any subsequent consents [a company] might need to obtain to undertake operations would have to be obtained in the normal manner under the Resource Management Act (RMA), or with Maritime New Zealand.

“You wouldn’t normally expect the government to be second-guessing companies’ environmental track records when there’s a regime in place that will deal with that anyway.”

Pfahlert reiterates that, at this early stage in the venture, Petrobras’ operations are limited, as “they don’t actually have permission to mine at all”.

“There’s a two-phase process that the government goes through—once you’ve made a commercial discovery, you have the right to exchange the exploration permit for a mining permit, but it’s a separate process.”

The MED outlines the minimum requirements for Petrobras’ proposed staged work programme as completing a regional 2D seismic survey, followed by a 3D survey; drilling one well, with at least 12 months’ notice of drilling given to the MED beforehand; and reporting and presenting a full review of the Basin’s potential post-drilling. At least one of the projects must be carried out within the first 18 months of Petrobras’ permit—and at this stage, the company expects to be drilling for gas, rather than oil.

Pfahlert believes that the drilling of a well probably won’t occur until year four or year five.

“At the end of year five, they have to make a decision about whether they’re going to carry on or not—though that will actually be determined by whether they’ve found anything,” he says. “If they find nothing, there’s every realistic chance they’ll drop the permit, and hand back any information they obtained to the MED, which can then try and attract someone else to show an interest in the area.”

What New Zealand stands to gain

Pfahlert describes drilling for “financial and commercial discovery” as a hit-and-miss affair.

“Internationally, the odds are that for every oil hole you drill, you drill nine or ten that are duds,” he says. “I think in New Zealand, the odds are a bit longer than that—maybe one in ten to one in 20. So, there’s a 90 per cent chance that every hole that’s drilled, around the world, is going to fail. That’s just the odds of the exploration business.”

However, if drilling does uncover minerals, “there are very significant rewards,” agrees Pfahlert.

“If there is a commercial discovery, these projects pay themselves off very quickly and get a lot of return to the Crown.”

Aside from Brownlee’s promise of increased “long-term regional development”, as well as more jobs for New Zealanders, the MED is hopeful that Petrobras’ investment will further the economic relationship between New Zealand and Brazil—the world’s eighth largest economy.

Pfahlert points to the success of the five wells of the Kupe project in Taranaki, drilled about 32 kilometres off the coast.

“I think the company there spent about $1.3 billion on capital costs, and around half of that went into New Zealand’s economy; it had around 800 people involved in its construction phase, and there are probably 100 people employed full-time on an ongoing basis.”

It seems hard to overestimate the monetary value of a commercially viable petroleum find. Last week, almost $700 million dollars’ worth of additional oil and gas reserves were confirmed to have been discovered at the Kupe field. New Zealand Oil & Gas’ chief executive David Salisbury told The New Zealand Herald that the company’s 15 per cent stake in the project could, at current prices, equate to close to a $100 million share in the increased reserve.

It’s no wonder that the Vancouver-based Fraser Institute recently named New Zealand as the second most attractive country to invest in for petroleum exploration—especially, as Pfahlert points out, “[companies] have drilled for and exploited the oil in all the easy places.

“The reason that companies have started coming to New Zealand is that the global demand for oil keeps growing, and the places where you find it keep becoming perhaps less popular to go to. Increasingly, companies will look to invest in places they perhaps wouldn’t have looked at 15 or 20 years ago.”

The MED says that education and health are among the sectors that benefit from petroleum and gas production, as the Crown collects royalties from extraction of minerals. Pfahlert also notes that the companies involved pay tax, which will benefit the economy.

“That’s where it’s no different to any other commercial enterprise, I guess.”

Gambling with the environment

Where the energy industry does differ significantly is the high amount of risk involved, as exemplified by the Deepwater Horizon disaster. The poor timing of Brownlee’s announcement provoked immediate concern that Petrobras’ mining could result in such a catastrophe. Others have pointed out that if both the United States Government and BP have struggled to manage the spill, New Zealand stands no hope of managing such a disaster. There is a suggestion, in fact, that New Zealand is in over its head.

Dr Rosalind Archer, a senior lecturer in Engineering Science at Auckland University, points to data released by America’s Society of Petroleum Engineers to show that “While there can never be an absolute guarantee that any offshore operation is perfectly safe… if international best practices are followed, the risk of an oil spill due to a blowout is extremely low.”

Indeed, Petrobras’ health and safety record has improved immensely over the past decade, since the explosion of its 36 Oil Platform on 15 March 2001. Then the largest floating, semi-submersible platform in the world, it exploded off the coast of Brazil, killing 11 workers, and sank five days later with an estimated 1500 tonnes of crude oil remaining onboard. An investigation found a number of causal factors (including human error), which were worsened by the lack of an adequate contingency plan.

To its credit, Petrobras was quick to learn from its mistakes. The Dow Jones Sustainability Index (DJSI) recently named the company as one of the most sustainable outfits in the world today, and especially praised it for its “benchmark” score for ‘Management System and Environmental Policy’. Management & Excellence (M&E) reported that Petrobras was the world’s most sustainable oil company, with a rating of 92.25 per cent.

Certainly, Petrobras’ “pedigree”, to quote Brownlee, is impressive—but can any positive report or glowing safety record excuse the potential risk?

“It’s a difficult issue: the chance of a major environmental disaster is extremely small. However, the consequences of such a disaster could be huge,” says Dr Archer. “If Petrobras’ exploration activities are monitored and managed appropriately, I am not uncomfortable with the balance between the economic gains that could be achieved, and the inherent risk.”

Green Party co-leader Dr Russel Norman is not so magnanimous. In a statement dated 31 May, he described the government’s planned offshore drilling as “environmentally reckless”, and challenged them to suspend any programme until “[oil companies] knew exactly what went wrong with Deepwater Horizon, they can ensure that it won’t happen again, and that if it ever does happen again, they have the ability to plug the well”.

Dr Cath Wallace, a senior lecturer within the School of Government’s Environmental Studies department at Victoria University, says that the Environment and Conservation Organisations (ECO) of New Zealand—where she specialises in public policy—agrees with Norman’s proposal.

“And we are not alone. The International Union for Conservation of Nature has also called for a pause while these issues are sorted out.”

Dr Wallace asserts that the potential economic gains of Petrobras’ exploration, no matter how vast, cannot adequately justify the risk of an environmental disaster—even if a commercial discovery is as unlikely as Pfahlert claims.

“In any of these issues, you need to consider not only the probability, but also the severity of harm,” she says. “The reality is that New Zealand does not have the capability of dealing with any major blowout or disaster.”

To some extent, this has been admitted by the agencies involved. In an article published on Scoop.co.nz, Maritime New Zealand’s media advisor Sophie Hazelhurst said that a spill exceeding 3500 tonnes of oil would surpass the planning, equipment and training that the organisation has in place. New Zealand would therefore be forced to seek help from overseas countries such as Singapore, Australia and the United Kingdom.

Furthermore, Dr Wallace believes that mining will damage New Zealand’s ‘clean and green’ image overseas—just as the government’s proposal to mine conservation land did. In April, Bob Lancaster, founder of Nelson- and Sheffield-based hiking company High Places, was quoted on Radio New Zealand’s Morning Report as stating that international press had described New Zealand’s potential mining of protected areas as “state vandalism”.

“We are losing our international reputation for environmental responsibility, and that will rebound on us in markets all over the world,” argues Dr Wallace, who maintains that the government is pursuing “a very old-fashioned resource extractive economic strategy”.

“We need to wean ourselves off fossil fuels, for the sake of the atmosphere,” she continues. “A much sounder and more effective approach would be to pursue economic benefit from an intact environment—that way, we maintain our environment and economy into the future.”

What safety nets are in place?

Despite suggestion to the contrary, Pfahlert feels that New Zealand is prepared to handle Petrobras’ proposal.

“I’ll put a caveat on it, though: there is certainly room for improvement, and in fact, most of the agencies are looking to improve the regulatory environment to make sure that it really is world-best practice.”

The MED has commissioned an independent study, due this year, on New Zealand’s health, safety and environmental provisions around minerals activities, such as deep-sea drilling. For this reason, Pfahlert dismisses suggestion that a standalone agency be erected solely to monitor Petrobras’ practice as “a complete waste of money”.

What is needed, Pfahlert maintains, is “one regulatory system” relating to practices taking part in the Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) 12 miles offshore, “irrespective of who’s doing them”.

“We’re expecting the government to introduce a piece of legislation to deal with the same sorts of things that the RMA considers,” he says. “You wouldn’t want to set up a system just for the Raukumara Basin with one company. That’d be foolish in my view.”

Pfahlert says that the proposed Environmental Protection Authority, which Environment Minister Nick Smith hopes to be functional by 1 July 2011, will also play some role in processing legislation and consent applications.

Dr Archer reiterates that Petrobras’ permit to explore the Raukumara Basin does not mean that deepwater drilling is imminent; in fact, she predicts it won’t occur before 2013 at the earliest. Consequently, it’s tempting to disregard the developments in New Zealand’s minerals extractions until minerals are indeed extracted.

Although Petrobras’ exploration seems inevitable, as further details of Deepwater Horizon come to light, we should be primed to react to them—especially if we are to prevent any deepwater catastrophes occurring on New Zealand horizons.

This trimester’s first Animal of the Week is the feisty pistol shrimp, which grows to an average of just four centimetres long. However, it compensates for its lack of stature with its well-honed hunting mechanism: its distinctly disproportionate claw. When this claw snaps shut, it releases a cavitation bubble with a loud popping noise—and that’s ‘loud’, as in, approaching 218 decibels, rivalling the calls of much larger marine animals in terms of sheer volume. What’s more, when this bubble collapses, it reaches temperatures of over 4700 °C. The heat of this bubble, coupled with the sound and pressure of its release, enables it to kill small fish, and stun larger ones: captive pistol shrimps have used it to shatter small glass jars. Truly, the pistol shrimp is bigger than his body gives him credit for (Mayer, 2003).

Email suggestions for an upcoming Animal of the Week to elle@salient.org.nz.

The contraceptive pill was first approved in the United States in early May of 1960, and reached the United Kingdom and New Zealand the following year. It was the reliable and safe method that women had been waiting for, and was readily adopted by those who could access it. Now, it’s widely available and heavily subsidised—but by no means has it resolved all of New Zealand’s issues with contraceptive health. In fact, many within the public health sector consider that these are still not being adequately addressed.

Prior to its introduction in New Zealand, women had been doing whatever possible to plan and space the births of their children. The methods used, which included the use of a diaphragm, which was often poorly-fitted; the ‘rhythm’ method; condoms; and withdrawal, were often ineffective, and as a result, the rate of self-abortions was high. The McMillan Inquiry of 1937 found that at least one pregnancy in five ended in abortion, and that the majority of women dying were married with four or more children.

“People have always used whatever’s been available,” says Dame Margaret Sparrow. Sparrow, now President of the Abortion Law Reform Association of New Zealand, has had an active role in promoting safe sexual practices, as well as the use of contraception. She was one of the first women in New Zealand to use the pill, and said in Helen Smyth’s book, Rocking The Cradle: Contraception, Sex and Politics in New Zealand, that it changed her life: “That was the first time that I ever really experienced good fertility control.”

Certainly, it’s hard to exaggerate the impact that the pill had on women’s lives. “They truly saw it as liberating,” says feminist and women’s health campaigner Sandra Coney. “And they enjoyed the chance to be sexual and to choose sexual partners, not guarding their virginity while lining men up for marriage… and the fear of pregnancy, which had been such a great constraint, was removed.”

In Rocking The Cradle, Smyth wrote that within just five years of its introduction to New Zealand, 40 per cent of married, fertile women were on the pill, equating to some 100,000 packets a month. Today, the pill is taken by more than 100 million women worldwide, and a wide range of contraception is easily attainable in most developed countries. It’s inconceivable—if you’ll excuse the pun—that women once had to struggle to obtain access to the pill, even after it had been made legal.

All the single ladies, put a ring on it

New Zealand—the first country to grant women the vote–was among the first to introduce the pill, but it did so unwillingly. For the decade following its introduction, the pill was largely prescribed only to married women, and while this had an immediate impact on the rate of self-abortion among that group, there was no mind giving to the huge number of unmarried women who were struggling to avoid falling pregnant.

“[The introduction of the pill] had a huge impact, except it took a while to catch on, because doctors were very reluctant to prescribe it,” remembers Sparrow. “There was even a statement from the New Zealand Medical Association, saying that doctors shouldn’t prescribe the pill to unmarried women because of moral objection.”

This didn’t deter Sparrow, who worked at Victoria University’s Student Health Services between 1969 and 1981—over which period, attitudes towards sexual health changed a great deal. She modestly allows that she was “instrumental” in ensuring access to contraception for students.

“I saw that as one of my roles, and that was why I became involved at Family Planning, so that I could give students a better service,” she remembers. “I think when you’re sitting in a consultation room and students come to you, it does push you to think—well, why shouldn’t I prescribe it?”

Sparrow also wrote articles for Salient on services such as pregnancy testing and emergency contraception, “just to let students know that they could come to Student Health for contraceptive advice”.

Sympathetic doctors such as Sparrow were godsends for unmarried women seeking access to the pill and, as Smyth writes, many women were prepared to go to great lengths to do so. Many women bought themselves engagement and wedding rings in order to coax their doctors into writing them a prescription. Family Planning found what Chief Executive Jackie Edmond describes as “a more pragmatic way” of resolving the issue.

“We used to give them things to put on their finger when they came to see us,” Edmond says with a wry smile.

The momentum of the women’s movement

Thanks to the efforts of individual doctors who understood that contraception was indeed “a basic healthcare necessity”, the pill became more accepted and accessible in the 1970s. Lynda Williams, coordinator of the Auckland Women’s Health Council, says that that decade’s women’s liberation movement was an important milestone.

“During the 1970s, there was more pressure to make the pill more widely available to young women, because this was when the feminist movement finally reached New Zealand,” she says. “We had consciousness-raising groups getting involved with menstrual extraction techniques; looking at their cervices; reclaiming knowledge of their own bodies…

“The expectation that the pill would be made more readily available started to impact on the medical profession, and I think they were slowly forced to become a lot more liberal, instead of trying to impose their own beliefs—religious or otherwise—on women.”

Certainly, Coney says, “It didn’t take much to change women’s ideas.” She asserts that the women’s liberation movement began as a “reaction against the homebound role of our mothers, and the expectation that we would simply leave school and marry.

“Contraception was embraced as a tool to allow this freedom to make life choices that were not dictated by biology and social expectations.”

Feminist groups began to promote the formerly taboo topic of sexual education. As part of Knowhow, Coney gave out leaflets on safe sex practices at the gates of schools, and ran a telephone advice group.

“It wasn’t just women’s lib, though these ideas were promoted and explored through writing, discussions, abortion law reform, workshops and so on,” she remembers. “There was a workshop on how to masturbate at the 1979 United Women’s Convention.”

The difference 50 years makes

Sparrow agrees that today, contraception must constitute a significant percentage of the work of Victoria’s Student Health Services. “Times have changed!” she says.

Edmond suggests that modern women—and even those of her generation (“I’m 47, and all my sexual reproductive years, I’ve had access to services and contraception. I’ve never even had to consider that I wouldn’t… and same for you, though I’m slightly older than you.”)—tend to take these services for granted. Contraception is available from most chemists, general practitioners and public health services, and in most cases, it is subsidised for people under 22 years old. While most acquiesce that it is preferable that teenagers use contraception than have unplanned pregnancies, there are small but vocal (“Very vocal!” interjects Edmond) groups that think otherwise.

“We’re constantly being accused by groups such as Family First and Right to Life, and [New Zealand Herald columnist] Garth George,” sighs Edmond. “All we’re doing is offering the same services as any GP offers—we just talk about it a bit more.

“They’re trying to take things back to how they were, but in fact it wasn’t that good. All this stuff was happening in the background: people were getting pregnant when they didn’t want to be, then. I think it’s all a bit idealistic really.”

Despite the efforts of groups such as Family Planning, New Zealand has the third highest rate of teenage pregnancy of the 31 developed countries recognised by the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD). The result is reminiscent of a report recently prepared for the Ministry of Health by the Public Health Advisory Committee, which showed that among the most deprived neighbourhoods, New Zealand’s rate of infant mortality is worse than that of all developed countries bar Mexico and Turkey. Evidently, the discrepancy between New Zealand’s richest and its poorest is immense.

Williams points out that the OECD figure of teenage pregnancies is misleading because “there are specific ethnicities that are overrepresented in these figures”—as, she says, both the Maori and Public Health Advisory Committee have attested to.

“At a board meeting I was at two weeks ago, we were told that a certain age group—up to, I think, 25-years-old—something like one in five Maori women were getting pregnant,” she says. “The figure was so staggering that the board asked that it be checked.

“There are a lot of factors involved,” continues Williams. “There’s alcohol, there are heavy religious and cultural norms about not talking about contraception and sexuality. And Pacific women, even those that are married, tend not to have much control over their own fertility.”

Edmond says that Faming Planning has “still got a lot of work to do” before the issue of unplanned teenage pregnancies is addressed.

“I think young women continue to struggle to negotiate condom use—and that’s a challenge even when you’re my age, let alone when you’re 16 or 17,” she says. “Alcohol, too, has had a huge impact on decision making and doing things at haste, then repenting at leisure. We haven’t been really very good at getting the message out that young women should be using contraception as well as condoms.”

In a bid to tackle the problem, the Auckland District Health Board enabled women aged under 25 years old to access the emergency contraceptive pill (ECP) for free, as part of a five-month trial that started at the end of 2009. A preliminary evaluation of the scheme last year found a 13% reduction in the number of abortions at the Epsom Day Unit, the region’s principal abortion clinic, while last month The Manawatu Standard reported an increased demand in the ECP. However, the Auckland DHB decided that these figures were not able to be considered “statistically significant”.

“I have argued vociferously that [the ECP be made free permanently], as it would save money, but the Board is financially strapped,” says Williams. “They’ve put it on their list of priorities, but there is no talk of it coming in for the next wee while.

“We still have very conservative people around. There are one or two [men] on the Board who would vote against it.”

Women’s Health Action Trust’s policy advisor Christy Parker considers it a “shame” that the DHB has decided not to continue with the scheme.

“We strongly support increasing the accessibility of emergency contraception, and see accessing it as a fundamental sexual and reproductive right,” she says. “Our argument would be that a five month trial was too short a time period to demonstrate the success of such an intention.”

Areas for improvement

Although it seems that it will be some time before the ECP is made free of charge, there has been some development in the range of contraception available. 3 News reported in early June that the government’s drug-buying agency Pharmac intends to fund the long-acting reversible contraceptive Jadelle. Once implanted, Jadelle offers contraceptive coverage for five years, although it can be easily removed from a woman if she decides to change contraceptive, or try to conceive. Usually $300, it will be available free, bar the cost of a doctor’s visit and a dispensing fee, and Pharmac expects that some 35,000 women will take it.

“It’s one of our claims to fame,” says Edmond, visibly excited. “We’ve been advocating [for it] for two years, so we’re thrilled—we don’t get many wins.
“The pill relies on a human factor, and we’re all human, we forget… which is why we’re so keen on Jadelle. It’s really going to offer another option for young women.”

Although it is a long-term contraceptive, it remains to be seen just how effective the Jadelle will be in reducing the rate of teenage pregnancies, although Williams says she’s unsure of the number of Maori and Pacific teenagers that use services such as Family Planning. In order to ensure that sexual education and services are more wide-reaching, Williams would like to see Family Planning have direct access to schools.

“If I could wave a magic wand, I would insist upon government funding for Family Planning to offer comprehensive education on sex and contraceptive options in high schools,” she says. “The government needs to put a whole programme in place that looks at dealing with all of these issues, rather than [taking] a piecemeal approach.”

Parker cites a “damning” report from the Education Review Office into sexual education in schools, released June 2007. She describes it as a “really horrifying read”.

“Although we have quite a good sexuality education curriculum, it really wasn’t being implemented in practice in schools, and I’m not convinced we’ve seen any effective response to that yet,” she says. “I guess we feel that we’re really failing our young people in terms of sexual education.”

Parker says that sexual health education is not being approached in a “nationally coordinated and consistent fashion”, and that it’s a huge problem.

“It’s not about the birds and the bees, or pointing to an anatomy diagram. We see the need for quite a holistic framework around sexual education that integrates sexuality as part of the whole person.”

Sparrow also believes that sexual education is an area that needs immediate improvement. She hotly agrees that the government was shirking its responsibilities when it comes to issues of sexual education and contraception.

“My impression is that it’s quite patchy, and although some schools do take responsibility, it’s probably a little bit too little and too late—and often not relevant to the big questions that young people really want to know.”

What does Family Planning want to see implemented over the next five to ten years?

“We want comprehensive sexual education in schools, and we’d love to see more programmes for parents to learn more about talking about sexuality and sex,” says Edmond immediately, ticking them off one by one. “We would like to see a range of services for young people to access their sexual health, while keeping up-to-date with any new contraception out there.

“Public health programmes that push the use of condoms and contraception. More discussion around drinking and its impact on decision making. And programmes on gender-based violence and coercion.

“So we don’t want much!” she jokes.

“The other thing we’re saying is not universally liked, but you should be enjoying having sex; it should be a pleasurable activity,” says Edmond. “If you don’t want to have it, don’t have it. Don’t do it because you think you should do it: do it because you want to…

“People don’t like it, but I think it’s a good message. It’s pragmatic.”

Controversy aside, contraception is about choice. Being well-informed and aware of the options available enables a woman to make a decision that suits her and her individual needs. With the assortment available, it’s strange to consider that not so long ago, there wasn’t much of a selection to choose from. Who knows what changes to contraception and sexual health services the next half-century will bring about, but what can be counted upon is this: groups such as Family Planning will work to bring about the best and most convenient service possible.

It is the end of the trimester. Assignments are due. Exams are coming up. You probably have an immense dislike for university right about now. Stress. Pimples. Eye twitches. Sleepness nights. A lot of this probably due to the fact you’ve exceeded the recommended number of energy drinks to consume in a 24-hour period.

Nevertheless, it is at times like these that it is comforting to remember why you’re at an establishment like Victoria University—you’re here to get a tertiary education, an education that will one day hopefully improve your employment prospects and see you contribute positively to New Zealand society. Or, at least that’s the lofty, idealistic reason why you’re at uni that you may not have thought of.

The relatively open access to tertiary education that New Zealanders have enjoyed seems to be under threat. In recent weeks both Victoria and the University of Otago have implemented measures to manage enrolment numbers for the rest of 2010. Vic has closed all new domestic admissions for 2010, while Otago has capped enrolment numbers across a number of programs. Other universities are looking to introduce similar measures to deal with increasing numbers of students in the current limited funding environment.

But why has it come to this? Why has Vic been forced to shut the door on new domestic students, a decision that the University Council itself said it was reluctant to make? A number of factors, including the economic recession, increased demand and limited funding from the government and other sources, have prompted universities to consider new measures to cope with the challenges facing the tertiary sector.

And the door was shut

As has been reported in Salient, the University Council decided not to accept any new domestic undergraduate admissions for the rest of the year at a recent public meeting. The decision came in the wake of predictions that student numbers were going to reach 110 per cent of the cap funded by the Tertiary Education Commission (TEC) under Vic’s investment plan.

Following the council meeting, Chancellor Ian McKinnon explained: “The university has no further capacity for new undergraduate applicants this year. In simple terms, if they [student numbers] go above 100 per cent, the university forgoes funding and incurs costs, and this has an immediate impact on the quality of the university.”

Vice-Chancellor Pat Walsh told Salient after the meeting that “There is no enthusiasm for this decision, it was made to meet our legal obligations and to protect the interests of current students and staff.”

Salient reported that Vic enrolments are 20 per cent higher than they were at the same time last year. Increased student numbers has been a common trend across all tertiary education organisations (TEOs)—not just Vic. To an extent, this increase in student numbers could have been forseen: not only are the products of a baby boom in the early 1990s hitting uni age, job losses caused by the recession have led to many people heading back to tertiary study to upskill. Unfortunately, it appears that the current government has not provided universities with adequate additional support to cater for this influx of students.

Chair of the New Zealand Vice-Chancellors’ Committee (NZVCC) and Auckland University of Technology Vice-Chancellor Derek McCormack understands why Vic made the decision.

“New Zealand universities are committed to maintaining the international quality of their teaching and research,” says McCormack. “That is why they have, unfortunately, had to restrict student numbers—in order to maintain quality.”

Co-President of the New Zealand Union of Students’ Associations (NZUSA) David Do says Vic’s decision is unfortunate, given its impact on prospective students.

“We feel that on a practical level they shouldn’t have done it this way, because students had not been given proper notice that the entry requirements were changing, and that’s going to affect their plans for moving into education.”

VUWSA President Max Hardy, student representative Conrad Reyners and former VUWSA President Fleur Fitzsimons voted against the motion to close admissions. Hardy was reported in Salient as saying that “such an unattractive decision should not have been made without first having all the appropriate information”, while Fitzsimons said the decision “felt very panicked and lacking detail”.

The fact that New Zealand universities are feeling forced into making such decisions has raised concerns about current levels of tertiary education funding. How does the government fund our universities in the first place?

So where does Vic get its funding?

The majority of the university’s funding comes from government grants, with the next greatest proportion coming from domestic tutition fees—then international tuition fees. Figures in the 2009 Annual Report show that Vic received about $137 million in government grants last year. Domestic tutition fees made up almost $65 million of the university’s revenue, while international tuition fees accounted for about $25 million. The university’s total revenue for 2009 amounted to approximately $281 million. The figures show clearly, government funding makes up a significant portion of the univerity’s total revenue.It is the role of the Tertiary Education Commission (TEC) to oversee the allocation of government funding to universities, in accordance with the policies implemented by the government of the day.

The role of the TEC

Established under the Education Act of 1989, the TEC operates the tertiary funding system generally, while also overseeing the planning process and the performance of tertiary education organisations. According to its Statement of Intent, published online, the primary aim of the TEC is “to give effect to the government’s Tertiary Education Strategy (TES)”. The government is required to publish the TES under the Education Act. The TES provides a basis for all the government’s decisions relating to tertiary education. The TEC is bound to ensure that these are implemented across New Zealand’s eight universities, 20 institutes of technology and polytechnics, and hundreds of other tertiary education providers, such as training organisations, wananga, and schools.

The TEC’s board of commissioners provides guidance to the Minister of Tertiary Education about how best to allocate the $3 billion that the government commits each year to funding the tertiary education system.

In order to receive funding, a tertiary education organisation must have an Investment Plan, which it devises in collaboration with the TEC. The plan must outline the following four details: how a TEO will work towards achieving the government’s priorities as outlined in the TES; the TEO’s mission and role in the tertiary sector; the programmes and activities it runs or undertakes; and its proposed outcomes, including performance indicators.

Tertiary Education Minister Steven Joyce says that in terms of allocating funding for places for students at universities, “The TEC will work with universities (and institutes of technology and polytechnics) to determine the areas of high demand. In doing so, the TEC will seek to allocate according to the priorities of the Tertiary Education Strategy.”

In the event a TEO is found to be shirking its responsibilities, outlined in its investment plan, or it is behaving in a manner contrary to agreements made in the plan, the government is within its rights to restrict funding.

The impact of Investment Plans

The limitations placed on Vic by the investment plan with the TEC were one of the reasons behind the decision to close new domestic admissions for the rest of 2010. Vic was rapidly approaching the enrolments cap it was allowed for 2010.

Walsh explains that all universities have an investment plan, which outlines enrolment targets on “not only how many students [can be enrolled], but also how many of those students the government will fund”.

“In our Investment Plan, we give an undertaking to manage domestic student enrolment numbers between 97 per cent and 103 per cent. We will not receive government funding for any domestic students we enrol in excess of 100 per cent.”

Basically, if the university exceeds its cap, it carries the burden of funding those students itself—without extra funding from the government. Walsh reiterates that universities have a legal obligation to implement their individual investment plans.

Through the implementation of individual investment plans with universities and other TEOs, the government effectively manages how many New Zealanders can access tertiary education each year. In the past this appears not to have posed significant problems. However, it seems the government has not adequately prepared for the recent influx of students entering into tertiary education.

Walsh says that universities will have to seek funding from elsewhere in order to deal with the greater numbers.

“Because we are working in a capped funding environment, revenue from the government will be relatively fixed, and this means universities will need to look for additional revenue sources to meet any increase in expenditure.”

Walsh does say that New Zealand has “one of the most generous student support funding arrangements in the world.”

“The government spends a lot of money on tertiary education but it’s about finding the balance between money spent on students and funding for the institutions,” he says.

“Policy frameworks need adjusting to get that mix of funding right. Interest-free student loans, open access and capped funding don’t mix in a recession. In addition, universities work within a maximum fee system which limits how much they increase fees.”

McCormack says “the current system is far from ideal”. He points out that most tertiary programmes take more than one year to complete, “but funding is only secure for one year at a time”.

“The investment plans that universities agree to with the government [via the TEC] are three-year plans,” he says.

“Any decision by a university to accept additional students must take into account the pipeline consequences into subsequent years, in a situation of funding uncertainty over those subsequent years, with no guarantee of funding beyond one year at a time.”

President of the Tertiary Education Union (TEU) Dr Tom Ryan says that the TEU believes that the investment plan cap should be lifted, to allow greater numbers of enrolment into universities and other TEOs during the recession.

“We note that across the ditch in Australia, the government has said clearly that it wants more people getting degrees,” says Ryan. “It’s one of the policies they’ve introduced during the recession as part of their $1 billion extra spending on tertiary education. So it’s a pity that the [New Zealand] government has maintained the cap.”

The Budget: an exercise in treading water

Joyce points out that the changes announced at the recent Budget have allowed for the creation of more places for students at universities.

“We have refocused tertiary education funding to create approximately 4900 EFTS [equivalent full-time students] above previous baselines from 2011—a record number of core tertiary places,” he says.

“For universities, this means 1,735 additional full-time places compared to what was previously budgeted. As a result, the number of places in universities will be 765 greater in 2011 than this year’s record number.”

Joyce adds that the government has also increased spending on tuition subsidies—the Student Achievement Component (SAC)—which is the government’s contribution to the direct costs of teaching, learning, and other costs driven by student numbers.

“Around $40 million per year will be invested to increase tuition subsidies by 2.2 per cent, with approximately $23 million of this funding going to the university sector. The increase will support quality tertiary education.”

Also announced in the Budget was the end of the fee maxima policy, which allowed course fees to increase by a maximum of 5 per cent a year. The policy has been been replaced with the Annual Maximum Fee Movement (AMFM), which will allow TEOs to increase course fees by up to 4 per cent—but it only applies to fees for 2011.

Joyce says the change should give students more certainty about future study costs. He says AMFM removes the “distortive effects of the previous policy, which meant that providers with higher cost courses (with fees at or above the maxima) were unable to make increases in fees to offset the increases in the cost of provision”.

Do points out that AMFM gives no indication of what system will be in place for 2012.

“The minister has only set a fee limit for next year, and I think a lot of students are worried about how high their fees could go if there are no limits.”

Despite Joyce’s reassurances that the government is prepared for the influx of future enrolments, some remain unconvinced.

The 2009 Budget saw a number of cuts made to the tertiary education sector. Finance Minister Bill English backpeddled on prior commitments to increase funding made under the previous Labour government, and various scholarships and other funds were cut to save money.

The cuts have continued in this year’s budget, says Ryan.

“To a large degree, what was announced specifically in this year’s budget continued what the government introduced last year,” he says. “So it’s more the general government’s direction [that] has reduced the spending in tertiary education.”

McCormack agrees. “The 2010 Budget has primarily been an exercise in re-allocating existing money to achieve a limited number … of additional places at our universities.

“At the same time, per student funding is declining in comparison with university cost increases, and money for initiatives to make up for this shortfall, such as the tripartite salary funding, has been withdrawn—as announced in Budget 2009,” he says.

“The cumulative impact is that funding has been decreasing in real terms over time, and this most recent budget does not turn this trend around. Holding the line—or indeed going backwards—makes it harder for universities to prepare their students to be able to make the valuable contributions to New Zealand that are needed to ensure future growth.”

Do says New Zealand is beginning to fall behind Australia when it comes to tertiary education funding.

“The Australian government has put a significant boost of investment into universities and also student support,” he says.

“In contrast, last year’s budget in New Zealand saw cuts to several funds in tertiary education. So we feel the government should be actually increasing investment, and not keeping it stable or reducing it.

“We would have hoped that the government would do further work on addressing underfunding and student debt, but, unfortunately, this budget treads water,” Do says with a sigh. “It’s fairly lacklustre.”

‘Less’ can only go so far

Many in tertiary education have called for increased government investment in the tertiary sector, particularly given the recent emphasis placed on increased funding to be invested in research, science and technology.

McCormack comments, “As New Zealand’s universities constitute the most important part of the research sector, this funding may lead to new opportunities for university research. But is does beg the question, why hasn’t the government also matched this investment with direct funding for university research and teaching capability?

“If knowledge leads to prosperity then surely universities, as creators of knowledge, should be key drivers in the government’s plan. [Instead], the government has been talking about financial constraints, doing more with less, driving efficiency, holding the line, etc. with respect to the budget for our universities.”

NZUSA agrees with the NZVCC about the need for increased public investment.

“Even though the government wants ‘more from less’, there’s only so much you can do with the same amount of money,” Do remarks.

If government funding is not increased to match the demand for places at universities, access to tertiary education could ultimately be restricted, with universities unable to fund places for more students themselves.

NZUSA believes that this denies New Zealanders a basic ‘right’ to access tertiary education. Over time, this will result in fewer skilled graduates emerging from the tertiary education system. Do also points out that limited enrolments will likely affect minority students, or those from lower decile schools or lower socio-economic backgrounds.

“We need to think about the people who might be put at risk,” he says bluntly. “We think that the government is making the wrong choice when it comes to what way it is spending its money.

“It should have increased overall funding so that more New Zealanders can access education.”

The search for a sustainable solution

Joyce defends the actions that have been taken by the government in the tertiary education sector.

“All universities have informed the TEC that they will continue to manage their enrolments according to their current funding levels throughout 2010,” he says. “There is no extra funding available in 2010 and TEOs are all committed to managing within their means.

“In Budget 2010, the government provided a price increase to tuition subsidies. This will mean that universities will receive $23 million more in government funding in 2011 than in 2010.”

Regardless of the Budget’s immediate impact on tertiary education, it’s clear the government still needs to find a viable long-term solution to the continued calls for greater direct investment in TEOs. Universities are already turning to alternative sources of funding to try to cope with the demands of increased student numbers, while maintaining a high level of quality.

If more funding is not forthcoming, will universities be forced to consider more drastic measures to ensure they live within the means outlined in their investment plans? The fact that Vic and Otago have already taken reluctant steps should be a clear signal to the government that action needs to be taken to ensure that New Zealand’s universities are adequately funded—so that those who want to take up tertiary study can do so without worry of restriction.

Not only does this tell of the way in which technology has assimilated itself irretrievably into our daily lives, it is also testament to the convergence of that technology. Media is no longer restricted to its original platform. Instead, we watch television on our laptops; use our cellphones to connect to social networking sites, and make international calls over the internet. Every major newspaper—and many of the minor ones—uploads its content to a location online, from where it flows through to websites such as Twitter and Tumblr. Convergence has combined our once-separate roles of readers, spectators and internet users: consumers are now able to both produce, and participate in the media.

Well, that’s the simplified definition of the concept.

“There are two images of convergence,” says Dr Angi Buettner, lecturer of Media Studies at Victoria University and co-editor of the New Zealand Journal of Media Studies. “One is that a lot of things overlap, but they’re all there. The other is that a lot of things converge together to be filtered, and what you have coming out is one thin line of a lot of things.”

Dr Buettner thinks that the former premise is “our wishful thinking about convergence”, and that the second is the more realistic model. I ask Dr Buettner whether she anticipates that this “thin line” will decrease the number of sources of information or viewpoints on a particular issue that are available to the consumer.

“Potentially, it might increase the number of voices,” she says, “but which item is going to be picked up and pushed through the different platforms of publishing? Pragmatically, it will be the best, nicest-looking little story. Someone has to re-circulate it and what’s going to be picked up is something that’s already successful with audiences.”

However, Fairfax Digital’s Social Media Editor and Stuff.co.nz blogger Greer McDonald believes that above all, convergence increases access to different opinions and information.

“Fairfax has more than 780 journalists spread out across the country, and convergence means that readers don’t have to be living in Southland or Taranaki to access that region’s news,” she says. “Readers are getting their news in new ways—and from a larger number of sources—rather than becoming limited.”

Social Media is Big Business

That Fairfax Digital—part of Fairfax Media Group, which owns a significant proportion of New Zealand’s newspapers, magazines, and community newspapers—deemed it beneficial to appoint a Social Media Editor is testament to the importance and influence of Facebook, Twitter, and other social networking sites.

“All those platforms are just opportunities to have an outpost, really,” says Tarver Graham, of Auckland-based web design company Gladeye, which produces interactive work and digital strategy “for companies that want to make their brand come across super-cool online”.

With an official website, staff blogs, and Twitter, Facebook, and Vimeo accounts, Gladeye has considerable online presence.

“We try to keep our main website reasonably profesh, but with Twitter and Facebook, we can show a bit more of who we are, and be a bit more relaxed,” says Graham, who maintains that social media allows companies to take care of their supporters.

“If your brand or company shows some love for their supporters, that loyalty is often returned, and loyalty and genuine passion for a brand is not something that you can fake or buy,” he says. “With social media, it’s really important to be genuine, because people will see through it otherwise.”

Luke Appleby, a multimedia journalist who writes Stuff.co.nz’s ‘Connector’ blog, lists the benefits of Facebook and Twitter as “building and maintaining contacts, generating instant feedback, and crowd-sourcing.

“Twitter has also proven its worth in our newsroom for monitoring breaking news, especially internationally, through a number of feeds.”

McDonald testified to this on Radio New Zealand’s Media Watch programme, broadcast on 25 April 2010. Earlier this year, the New Zealand Press Association reported that the fires at Titahi Bay were under control, but McDonald’s Twitter told a different story.

“Basically, through Twitter, I was able to provide a blow-by-blow account of what was happening, which was contrary to what the Fire Service was informing other news agencies,” she told the show’s host, Colin Peacock.

An energetic Tweeter herself, McDonald is drawn to the service’s immediacy. She describes it as “the virtual pulse of communities around New Zealand, and the world”.

“People discuss personal issues and business ideas, all in the one space,” she says. “Where once you would head to the local pub to find out what everyone was talking about, you can now jump online and connect with that same information—and on an even greater scale.”

A More Interactive Experience

Of course, this exchange of information is just that—an exchange, as both Appleby and McDonald have experienced first-hand. Readers can comment on Stuff.co.nz blogs, which, in Appleby’s words, “can allow the reader to become a part of the post themselves”.

“Having comments on everything you write can make you more cautious, and more accountable,” says Appleby. “If you get something wrong, you’ll be told about it, and I have done a few times.”

McDonald’s blog, ‘Lady in the Red’, documents her bid to take control of her personal finances. One post, in which she admitted buying a pair of boots instead of replacing her car’s worn tyres, attracted 147 comments, in any of which, readers admonished her for her “frivolous, un-thought-out purchase” (K, #44).

This would suggest that media’s newfound interactive element can position readers a little too close to journalists—although McDonald is unfazed. In fact, she says she writes “in a way that encourages the reader to respond to me and my ideas”.

“In terms of what and how I write, blogs allow me to write more creatively than what most print media models are set up for,” she adds, citing the sometimes-controversial, often opinion-based nature of the medium.

This increased participation also applies to news. Stuff.co.nz, which receives 115 million page impressions a month from 3.9 million unique browsers, engages its readers with interactive quizzes, games and video. The site’s current opinion poll asks readers to determine “who would win in a fight” between Dame Kiri Te Kanawa and Susan Boyle. (At time of writing, it’s 388 – 371 to Kiri.)

“Many journalists are now waking up to the fact that most audiences love—and expect—more than one form of media from some news outlets,” explains Appleby. “You can effectively combine print, audio, video, data and audience input into one, rapidly updating article, available from anywhere with internet access.”

Just as businesses have added Facebook and Twitter to their arsenal of marketing tools, several are turning to online outfits such as Gladeye to provide them with interactive advertising applications. Gladeye created the House of Travel mixandmatcher Facebook competition, which attracted 44,000 players in the fortnight it was active.

“I think our trademark attention to detail helped make the game satisfying to play for a long period of time,” reflects Graham. “We worked on the physics of the [spinning wheels], and the look of the dials. Also, the soundtrack added a layer of mood, and that helped with the generally satisfying character of the game.

“I really believe that if something seems real, you can trick the brain into thinking that it is real, even though you know it’s not.”

Form and Function

Dr Buettner points out that according to Sherry Turkle, Professor of the Social Studies of Science and Technology at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, an increasing willingness to take technology at face value is one of the features of convergence culture.

“So what we see here,” explains Dr Buettner, gesturing to her desktop Apple Mac computer, “does not show us in any way how a computer works, how visual programming works… and the news doesn’t show you anything about the news production, news gathering, the editing process, or how it’s visually pulled together.

“You don’t get that, because everything is absolutely smooth in its flow.”

Dr Buettner believes that the Apple iPad, once it becomes more widely used, will change the character of computing and social media.

“News will be converted into a very smooth application that looks good, and basically gives the audience what they want,” she predicts.

McDonald says that the iPad will have an especial appeal for New Zealanders.

“Kiwis have that fantastic quality of being affected by ‘new and shiny-itis’—we love to be included in the latest technology that the world is using, and we enthusiastically promote products that improve the way we do things.”

Appleby is more cautious.

“It’s easy for us in the developed world to proclaim that the iPad will eventually help us to consume all forms of media, but what of those who can’t afford, or simply don’t want one?”.

A Place for Print

Buettner points out that not long ago, it was predicted that the book was going to disappear—“but it hasn’t”.

“People have an enjoyment of reading something on paper which cannot be substituted by any electronic device,” explains Appleby. “Everyone likes to consume different forms of media in different ways. We still have people using HAM radios and Morse code, speaking Latin, and creating traditional art with paper.”

Graham agrees—but to a certain extent.

“There’ll always be a place for print, just like there’s a place for painting even though we’ve had photography for a century and a half already,” he allows. “But these brands, and the companies behind them, will evolve in a digital landscape. They need to think of themselves as selling content, not paper. Paper is a mugs’ game. Paper is a commodity, whereas words (stories, ideas, opinions, or whatever) have a unique value.”

Dr Buettner predicts that books, newspapers and magazines will turn into a “niche market, geared towards people who like having the paper on their coffee tables–people who want that medium.

“It will not be [media’s] main platform. Print won’t be the form that will make the money. I don’t think news will be on the internet, I think it will be on even more mobile media, and I think it will get more of a print-type character.”

“What is the new beast going to be?”

Of course, the nature of journalism—both as an occupation and an industry—will have to change accordingly, and Dr Buettner maintains that in the future, the job will be very different.

“A lot of journalists will have to take on more things that the editor would have used to have done, and that they’ll have to become even quicker—so it will be a question of time management more than anything,” she says, recalling McDonald’s flat statement that the speed of online media means that “deadlines don’t exist”.

Appleby, who was trained in multimedia journalism (“I can confirm that it has proven useful so far”), believes that journalists will need to be multi-skilled in areas of print, online and television journalism in order to increase their chances of gaining employment, and McDonald agrees.

“I think reporters will be expected to be more open-minded in what the future of their role may require them to do,” she says. “New journalists who can adapt quickly will be the ones that find the most success.”

Dr Buettner maintains that the industry is currently in a state of change: “There’s a question of ‘what is the new beast going to be?’.

“I think it can really go in two directions,” she elaborates. “News industries are quite aware that now is the time when decisions are going to be made that affect how the industry is going to look like, so I think it’ll be a really interesting time to watch. And if you go into that business or field of the media over the next five years, you can probably participate in what it’s going to look like.”

Wellington-based designer Alexandra Owen makes succeeding in the cut-throat fashion industry look easy. Upon graduating in Fashion Design from Massey University in 2005, she launched her namesake label in 2006. She made her public debut at Air New Zealand Fashion Week the following year, and opened her flagship store in Wellington last year. When listed, Owen’s achievements look effortless, much like the classic tailoring of her designs—but both are the results of a combination of clarity of vision and hard work.

How would you describe your designs? Who do you design for?

Sculptural, tailored, classic and elegant designs, for mature, sophisticated, thinking women.

What appeal did fashion design have you for?

The seasonality, freshness and ability to work on something new every day.

What influence did your education in Fashion Design at Massey University have on your career? Do you consider it important that those interested in pursuing a career in fashion study it formally, and at tertiary level?

I think it is important to have formal training as a base for working in the industry. It gives you a basic toolkit, but it is really character, courage and determination that helps you in the real world.

What designers inspire you, and why?

I love Dries Van Noten for his idealism, and humble beauty aesthetic. I loved Alexander McQueen for his cutting and drama. Locally, I love Zambesi for their enduring and wearable beauty.

How did you manage to make a name for yourself in such a notoriously competitive industry? What were your biggest obstacles in doing so?

I always think of Winston Churchill’s quote “Never ever, ever, ever give up”, or something to that effect. A lot of succeeding is believing in your cause deep to the core, while maintaining a good perspective on how what you do can remain relevant to your audience. Obstacles come every day in business, and come in many forms—but I have found they are there to teach us not to make the same mistake twice!

What have been your biggest successes, since your debut at Air New Zealand Fashion Week 2007?

Going to New York Fashion Week this year was a highlight. Opening a second store in Auckland. Continuing to do work we all look to work on here at the workroom.
What’s your opinion of the fashion scene and street style of Wellington?

I don’t get out much, but people here are far better dressers than those in Auckland, and even Melbourne for that matter. Wellingtonians have soul.

How do you explain general society’s fascination with fashion, and especially, the appeal it has for women?

At the end of the day, there are few women who could deny the attraction of an exquisitely designed garment. It is part of our nature as humans to appreciate visual beauty, whether it be a painting, piece of architecture or a Balenciaga dress. The French see fashion as relevant as any design form. I find it disappointing when society does not look beyond the fashion clichés to truly appreciate artists like [Yohji] Yamamoto, or Comme des Garçons, who have changed the way everybody today dresses.

How do you connect your designs, and fashion design in general, to art?

Fashion is still an applied art, and has to have a function, so its relevance is more rational on a day-to-day basis. The best fashion designers throughout history are just as relevant to modern society as Le Corbusier or Picasso. Women would not be wearing pants today if Gabrielle Chanel had not been truly radical in her day.

Would you ever consider designing menswear?

Menswear is another set of rules, complicated tailoring and different values. It is not for me right now, but never say never!

What advice would you have for students who want to work in the fashion industry, or start their own business?

It is vital that you know exactly what you want to do in the industry, to be clear about it as early as possible, plan it—even if it is over ten years, set goals and know what you want. Fashion offers many careers, so I think it is important to do as much work experience in the industry whilst studying to define what sort of roles appeal.

What are your plans for the future?

To continue showing our collections overseas, become a brand that is successful offshore, and to continue to make good collections.

This week, in online magazine Coup De Main (www.coupdemainmagazine.com): a feature on Vampire Weekend’s gig in Auckland; a glowing review of the new Kate Nash album; and a guest blog written by indie rock band Clap Clap Riot. In other words—more or less business as usual for a webzine that prides itself on keeping abreast of popular culture in New Zealand. What sets Coup De Main apart from its thousands of contemporaries is its fresh, youthful energy, and the simple reason for this is that its editor is younger than you.

Well, that’s if you’re 22 or over: Shahlin Graves is 21. She is the co-founder and editor of Coup De Main, which was launched in February 2009, and now averages over 30,000 hits per week. She’s interviewed musicians that most people her age dream of seeing live, let alone meeting. And she achieved this before graduating with her Communications degree.

So, for those who are completely unfamiliar with Coup de Main, what do you do?

Coup De Main is an online pop-culture magazine. Our namesake is a military term that capitalises on surprise in a swift attack—and we take it to heart, in a war against lazy journalism, i.e. copying and pasting.

What prompted you to launch Coup De Main?

Dissatisfaction with the poor standards of music journalism was the main catalyst. Also, the serious lack of a local pop-culture reporter that was actually in sync with real-time—no one wants to be the last to know!—and happy to meet the whims of their readers, rather than only dictate bandwagons and force press releases at them.

What have been some of the successes you’ve experienced with Coup De Main?

There’s been too many to name. Every day is an adventure for us. We try not to stop and think about everything that has happened over the last year, because it’s literally the stuff that our dreams are made of.

I have a wall of Polaroid photos in my bedroom, which is a nice reminder of interview opportunities we have been lucky enough to secure. It’s really weird when you see someone like Florence + The Machine or The xx on the cover of a magazine you grew up reading, like NME, when you’ve also photographed and interviewed them.

What have been some of the difficulties?

Last year was a bit tough, because I was in my final year of my degree, and also juggling a part-time job at the same time. There was a lot of Coup De Main hustling and very, very little sleep. We’re a tiny team compared to all of the other local media organisations, but we don’t let that stop us from trying to better or out-do anything that anyone else posts or publishes.

In all honesty, though, I just feel like we are incredibly lucky. All of the publicists we work with look after us kindly, and for the most part, we’ve pulled off crazy concepts that people have really supported.

At 21, you’re a great deal younger than your competition. Have you found this to be an advantage, or a disadvantage?

It can be perceived a disadvantage in the sense that industry traditionalists sometimes find it difficult to take a 21-year-old seriously, but no, I haven’t ever found this to be an actual disadvantage, as everyone that we work with is amazingly supportive and patient.

I wouldn’t want to work with people that feel threatened by youth anyway. That’s terribly close-minded. I kind of welcome critics though: it keeps me on my toes and inspires me to work harder. I think that our accomplishments and success speak for themselves anyway. We’ve managed to get to a happy place where our reputation precedes us, so being 21 has become more of an impressive talking point than anything, I think.

What would your advice be for students who wanted to work in the media or music industries, or for those who wanted to start their own businesses?

You’re only ever as good as the last story you’ve written, the last campaign you’ve pulled off… I constantly worry about the complacency of our generation. Having gone through a Bachelor of Communications, I can honestly say that there were and are too many students who think that they are going to get their dream job handed to them on a silver platter with their degree. To get to where you want to go, you will need to work hard. Really hard. You might have to sacrifice many hours of procrastination to get there, but the sooner you wake up and realise that, the faster you will arrive!

As for me, I’m still not there yet. I procrastinate far too much. I’m content with myself, but I know that there’s still so much more that I could achieve if I prioritised better. Don’t be afraid to jump—what’s the worst that could happen? If anyone says ‘no’ to you, that just means you need to brainstorm an alternative.

Those interested in writing for Coup De Main can contact Shahlin at mail@coupdemainmagazine.com.

For most of those who study at Victoria University, the Te Aro campus on upper Cuba Street might as well belong to a separate institution. Those trendy design students dressed in black; the wannabe architects spending sleepless nights with their scale models: they’re a different breed. Hell, they don’t even use Blackboard down there.

For all its eccentricities, Victoria’s centre of architecture and design is home to some remarkable work, which is being recognised at both a national and an international level. Just a few weeks ago, for example, a team of postgraduate architecture students were chosen to compete in a Solar Decathlon competition organised by the United States’ Department of Energy: the first successful entry from the Southern Hemisphere, ever. Needless to say, this is kind of a big deal.

What’s more, despite the degrees’ competitive nature and the arduous hours of work required to succeed, design and architecture students seem to relish their study. Of all of Victoria University, it is plausible that Te Aro alone is home to the fabled ‘campus culture’, where students make lasting friendships in lectures and tutorials; and where uni is both a social hub, and a hothouse of creative ambition. With its sprawling structure, geographical detachment, and dismal communal areas, Kelburn can only dream of such solidarity.

Leading the Southern Hemisphere

The Solar Decathlon team is comprised of Anna Farrow, Nick Officer, Ben Jagersma and Eli Nuttall. Their response to the competition’s brief of designing, building, and operating an energy-efficient, attractive and affordable house was a reinterpretation of the humble Kiwi bach. Their proposed timber structure impressed judges, who selected them to compete against 19 other collegiate teams from around the world.

“I researched the bach typology, and thought that it was a good starting point for a remote structure that could be solar-powered,” says Farrow.

“We thought it categorised New Zealand’s unique identity,” adds Nuttall. “There are some things in the bach that we thought represented our way of life and culture—the outdoor living, the open-plan social hub…”

“Simplicity,” puts in Jagersma. “Nothing too fancy!”

All four are pursuing their Master’s Degree in Architecture.

“It’s the worst time of your life, and the best time of your life,” says Officer of studying architecture. “You spend five years with the same 80 people; it’s like high school all over again.”

“You spend heaps of time at school, but there are cool things about that,” says Farrow, who has noticed the lack of engagement at Vic’s other campuses.

“I did a couple of papers up there [at Kelburn]—you turn up to class, you don’t talk to anyone, and you leave again.”

Jagersma believes that Te Aro’s cooperative spirit could be a result of the “nature of design”.

“We do a lot of work together, and we chat about our designs,” he says. “Because you spend so much time thinking about what you’re doing, you just naturally get to know each other a lot more. An essay’s more of an individual thing—you don’t really go and discuss it so much.”

Nuttall hopes that the number of students involved in their Decathlon submission will help them to bring Vic together. The team are working with students of media, communications, law and commerce, among others, in order to ensure that their bach excels in the competition’s ten contests—only one of these exclusively pertains to architecture. Some of the other factors that their construction will be judged on are its market appeal, its affordability, and how comfortable it is to live in.

Farrow, Officer, Jagersma and Nuttall will travel to Washington in October 2011 to build the bach to scale on the National Mall. It will be exhibited alongside the 19 other teams’ houses for a period of ten days, during which around 150,000 people are expected to visit this temporary ‘solar village’.

There’s so much work in store for them between then and now, it’s understandable that the team hasn’t thought much of their plans for the future, post-Decathlon.

“I guess it’s going to open a lot of doors for us at some stage,” says Officer. “I think I’ll stay in New York and never come home. That’s the dream.”

A Competitive Advantage

I ask Thomas Ibbotson, a Master’s student, whether architecture is as difficult, and as competitive, as Kelburn and Pipitea students consider it to be.

“Unfortunately, it’s exactly that,” he says, ruefully. “There’s usually a love-hate relationship with architecture.”

He attributes students’ high standards of work to the open nature of assessment at Te Aro.

“From day one, projects are presented by critique—meaning you present your projects to your classmates, tutors, and guest critiques, which forces students to take responsibility for their design decisions,” he explains.

“Having to stand up and present your projects means you have to be happy with your effort or attempt,” he continues, “which ultimately means doing the best you can, by putting in the maximum effort and time.”

With their work subjected to such scrutiny, it’s no wonder that design and architecture students spend so much time perfecting their submissions.

“Competition has been drilled into us,” says Ibbotson, though he allows that this has its advantages. It encourages the exchange and discussion of ideas, and even brings students together. “We’re always keen to critique, question or help out friends, as this is the best way for us to learn. Our friends have the most contemporary perspective and ideas available.”

Ibbotson agrees that Te Aro seems to “differ greatly” from Vic’s other campuses. He says this is due to the long hours students spend working alongside each other.

“We become pretty tight, and there are always a few laughs in the studio.”

Te Aro students are also encouraged to enter competitions, in order to further their practical skills. Ibbotson won second place in the Monument to a Memorable Event competition, organised by the Commonwealth Association of Architects, with a structure that commemorated the Wahine disaster.

Of his entry, Ibbotson says that it was “interesting to research, and offered a lot to work with”.

“Over the development of my submission, I learnt a lot about my own design process: where I start, and how I tackle certain challenges. It made clear my strengths and weaknesses.”

Ibbotson believes the study of architecture “could be applied to a variety of careers”, but at this stage, he has “no idea” as to his plans for the future.

“I have to finish this year first.”

A Change of Focus

Certainly, Karie Higgins and Megan Oliver used their Bachelor degree in Architecture, specialising in Interior Architecture, for something other than its obvious purpose. Shortly after graduating in 2004, they began to dabble in jewellery design—“for no particular reason, other than a bit of fun,” says Higgins.

Their brand, d_luxe, has gone from strength to strength. Higgins reels off a list of their successes to date, which includes collaborating with fashion designers twenty-seven names at Fashion Week; finding stockists for their designs in Australia; and establishing an online boutique.

Higgins describes studying at Te Aro “a completely different experience to Kelburn campus”.

“There, it’s more of a ‘get to the lecture and then get out of there’ type of deal. I assume perhaps at the other Vic campuses, you’re usually in far larger groups, and you don’t communicate with your peers so much… Te Aro students hang out on campus even when they aren’t working!”

And it’s true—it’s hard to imagine that happening at Kelburn (“Hey, wanna go smoke and ogle construction workers?”).

“There’s a real community that develops at Te Aro, mainly because of the studio teaching and work,” says Higgins. “You’re always collaborating with the people in your year, and sometimes with those from other years and disciplines—so it’s a great way to meet and get to know other people.

“By the end of your degree, most faces in the building are familiar, and because of the hours you need to actually be on campus, it does begin to feel a bit like a second home.”

Again, this seems nothing like the Kelburn experience—though perhaps if we didn’t have to leg it up a hill to get there, we’d spend more time at uni. And this could have been a reality.

In 1902, when the Victoria Council was yet to settle on a location for the university, the preferred spot was a 13-acre plot of Crown real estate in Mount Cook. However, then-Prime Minister Richard Seddon refused to part with it.

Had he been more amenable, the rest of Victoria University could have shared in Te Aro’s central and creative location, which has a lot to answer for in drawing the masses to study on the weekend. Certainly, Higgins appreciated “all that Cuba Street has to offer in terms of culture and convenience”.

“It is true though that, as a result, design students probably spend a disproportionate amount of money on coffee!”

Midnight Espresso must do a roaring trade on the night before hand-in.

Both Higgins and Oliver credit their time at Te Aro for their dedicated work ethic, their conceptual thinking skills, and their responsiveness to innovation, while their knowledge of interior architecture is apparent in their work. As d_luxe’s website states, “The move to jewellery design was simply a shift in scale.”

“People often say that you can tell that we’re trained in ‘interiors’, as we love composing our images and objects in a way that utilises our background in spatial design,” says Higgins. “We consider the whole environment as integral in our imagery.”

Sleepless in Te Aro

Patrick Thompson is an award-winning student of architecture, having won awards in the Habitat 3E Housing Competition, the New Zealand Institute of Architects’ Graphisoft Student Design Awards, and the Team Architecture Scholarships.

He believes that architecture and design is such hard work because it’s not a cut-and-dried process. “I think one of the main factors is that it’s very hard to ‘finish’ design,” he says. “It can always be improved upon, or looked at differently, no matter what stage you’re at.”

It’s fortunate, therefore, that the Te Aro academic staff are so accommodating.

“If you have any questions, they’ll always give you time to have a chat,” says Thompson. “Also, there’s lots of tutorial time, which, over five years, can create some great relationships with staff.”

Ibbotson agrees.

“I imagine students at Te Aro campus have a very different relationship with staff. They’re often not just lecturers, but also tutors, who spend one-on-one time with students.”

A recurring theme in interviews with Te Aro students is the late nights spent at uni.

“I’ve lived with students from other campuses every year,” says Thompson, “and the only difference is a lot less sleep.”

Workplace Romance

Jordon Wisniewski, however, sees some benefits in wiling away the midnight hour (well, almost—it shuts at 11.30pm) at Te Aro.

“During project time, the campus becomes your life,” he says. “The faces you see the most of are your classmates, burning the night away rendering, sketching or sanding, so you form pretty strong bonds with these people. I’d say out of all the campuses, we definitely have the highest rate of couples getting together at school.”

Wisniewski has a Bachelor of Design, majoring in Industrial Design. Along with fellow graduate Matt Fraser and senior lecturer Jeni Mihova, he has helped build ten models depicting detailed sections of the Parthenon and Acropolis. The models were on display at Te Aro last week, and will soon be exhibited at the Acropolis Museum in Athens.

Wisniewski’s role was to interpret drawings and sketches of the site, and to create two of the larger scale models of the Parthenon.

“I’m not an architecture student, so the opportunity to be involved in an architecture project has been really interesting—especially one that looks at one of the most important buildings in the world.

“The challenge of building a classical structure using modern construction techniques was one of the most frustrating and enjoyable projects I’ve done.”

Wisniewski believes that a Bachelor of Design or Architecture incorporates skills that are applicable to any field, “depending on what spin you put on your degree”.

“The campus is constantly in flux; already, the degree I’ve completed has changed, so it will be really interesting to see what graduates in the next five years will be doing.”

He credits the campus’ continual evolution with the assortment of students that study there: he maintains that there is no such thing as a ‘typical’ Te Aro student.

“Our faculty is made up of the practical, the academic, the fashionable, the deros, those who are logical and those who daydream,” says Wisniewski. “Having all the different flavours in close-knit creative quarters is what produces innovative work. This also makes the atmosphere really interesting to work and socialise in.

“Seeing other people doing well really pushes you to produce something great, and although you’ll eventually be competing with your classmates in the big bad world, they’re your most useful resource, and become some of your best friends. Or your potential husband or wife!”

Having said that, Wisniewski is quick to point out the limitations of his argument: he estimates that he’s spent a total of 12 hours at the other Victoria campuses over a four-year period.

“Despite that, I’d have really liked to have split my studies between campuses, and would definitely recommend anyone interested in taking a paper at Te Aro to give it a go.”

Indeed, several of the courses offered at Te Aro are open-entry, so go on: listen to Wisniewski’s advice. Discover that artistic inclination. Soak up the atmosphere. Make some friends. And take some of that community spirit back to Kelburn with you.

“Where are you from?”

That question never fails to trip me up, because the truth is—I’m not sure.

I was born and raised in England to (very) English parents. I continue to speak with that accent, and I drink four or five cups of tea per day—but I haven’t been back there for almost a decade.

Between the ages of nine and 13, I travelled with my family around Europe, the Caribbean and the South Pacific, spending a fortnight or so in each country we visited.

In 2004, we found ourselves in New Zealand, where we’ve lived for the past six years. I’ve survived NCEA; made lasting friendships; toured the length of the country; and even been confirmed as a citizen—but I’m still not sure if I consider myself Kiwi.

New Zealand is full of people like me: people who have no concrete sense of belonging to any one nation. Does this mean that there is no such thing as cultural identity? Or, alternatively, does it have such specific boundaries that it excludes more readily than it includes?

Culture shock

Fairooz Samy is in her second year of studying Political Science, International Relations and Media Studies. Her mother is Algerian; her father, half Turkish, half Egyptian.

“I was born in Cairo; I speak Arabic, French and English; and I’m a citizen of Egypt, Algeria, New Zealand and Britain,” says Fairooz.

“We immigrated to New Zealand in 2001, when I was 10, basically because my parents wanted somewhere nice for them to retire and me to grow up.

“It was a little odd at first, coming from Cairo to settle in quiet suburbia, which just doesn’t exist anywhere in Egypt. Everyone was nice, down-to-earth, super casual. You don’t get that level of ‘laid back’ in other countries.”

In Egypt, Fairooz had attended a British international school, “where there was this giant emphasis on the cultural differences between everyone.

“In New Zealand, I was this little freak who couldn’t even say ‘yes’ the same way they did,” she remembers. “I was accepted as the token ethnic girl.”

Fairooz recalls making a “conscious decision” to start speaking with a Kiwi accent when she was about 11.

“Nowadays, sure, I totally identify as a New Zealander—even more so when I’m overseas, but that’s probably because there isn’t anyone there who can tell me that I’m not,” she says.

“I’d be visiting family in Algeria and feel like a total tourist, starting every sentence with ‘Back home in New Zealand’, and feeling patriotic whenever we’d eat New Zealand lamb.”

Despite being well established in her second home, Fairooz hesitates when I ask for her definition of a New Zealander.

“I’m not sure if I’m the best person to answer that,” she confesses. “Is it all about backyard cricket, and school Kapa Haka?

“Maybe it’s as simple as the TV One ads make it out to be. Maybe New Zealanders are just that: laid-back, hard-working, generous, no-nonsense people, with such a population that there’s a tangible sense of camaraderie and dependability.

“Cheese on cheese, I know, but it’s giving me the warm fuzzies,” she says wryly.

Needless to say, Fairooz knows the advantages of having a couple of identities to select from.

“Whenever I get frustrated with some aspect of Kiwi life, I still roll my eyes and sort of thank god that I have a couple of other cultures to fall back on,” she remarks.

However, this has its drawbacks.

“It can get confusing, and I feel disloyal for taking such a pick-and-choose approach to who I consider myself to be,” admits Fairooz.

“I can’t escape the fact that racially, I’ll always be Arabic… but ironically, I’ve never met an Arab who really thought of me as authentic—Arabic isn’t even my first language.

“I’ve always felt a tad phoney.”

From Fire and Ice, to the Long White Cloud

Daan Kjartansson, a second-year student, was born in New Zealand to a Kiwi mother and an Icelandic father. He grew up in Iceland, but moved to Wellington to study at university. He is a citizen of both countries, and speaks Icelandic and English fluently.

He says he had no problems adjusting to Kiwi life, and that “it just happened”, as people at his university hall were interested in finding out more about his culture.

“The only problem is that I think in Icelandic, and always have to translate it into English, and I often forget the English words for something.”

Although he admits that he’s “becoming more and more Kiwi every day”, Daan sees himself as an Icelander.

“I still see Iceland as home, and all of my family still live there.

“I’m very interested in Norse mythology, which has played a big role in Icelandic history,” he says.

“And Icelanders are all about soccer, and I play a lot of soccer myself.

“Icelandic music also influences me quite a lot, and I try to listen to some daily, so I don’t forget about Iceland.”

Taste in music is one of the biggest differences Daan has noticed between his two cultures. Although he’s quick to point out that he can’t generalise New Zealanders, he’s noticed that most are interested in “rugby, drinking, and listening to reggae.

“The music produced here is quite different—there’s a lot of reggae and dub, which is probably influenced by the sun.”

Certainly, it’s hard to imagine The Black Seeds hailing from Iceland, where the climate is described as ‘sub-polar oceanic’.

Best of both worlds

Felix Hallwass, an Honours student, moved to New Zealand from Germany when he was six years old. He identifies strongly with both his birth country and his adopted one.

“I see myself as a German Kiwi, as I know my morals and personality are a combination of what my German parents have taught me, as well as what I have experienced as part of growing up in New Zealand,” he says.

Felix admits that while he considers home to be where his family live, “I’d always call Bremen my hometown, not Nelson. In sport, I’d always support Germany.”

I ask Felix how his cultural identities affect him on a daily basis.

“My parents, sister and I are German citizens, and speak mostly German at home, although it has slowly become an English-German hybrid.

“Having two distinct cultures to identify with, I’ve been able to decide the aspects or attitudes of each culture that appeal to me, or I agree with,” he says.

“The result of this is an interesting synthesis of ideas that influence how I interact with others, and this has given me a greater appreciation of diversity.”

Open mind, common sense

James Burtin, a second-year student of Psychology and Criminology, found himself in New Zealand in 2005. He was born in Grasse, France, to an English mother and a French father, and considers himself “a big mixture of hopefully all the good aspects of each culture”.

His diverse upbringing has influenced him in several respects.

“Probably the most important way is that I always try to be friendly to whoever I meet—especially if they’re new to the area, as I know how hard it can be to adjust to new places,” he says.

Felix agrees.

“I think my background allows me to empathise well with different people.”

“Apart from an identity crisis here and there”, Fairooz says that her background has made her “curious about the world”, as well as more tolerant.

“I try not to pigeonhole,” she says.

“I think that’s because I always expect people to have preconceived notions about me.”

This open-mindedness is a recognised characteristic of ‘third culture kids’ (TCKs): those who, as children, spent a significant period of time in one or more cultures, and now integrate elements of those into a third culture. TCKs often experience this ‘identity crisis’ that Fairooz refers to, as they’ve invariably never fully experienced one culture.

Fairooz empathises with my description of third culture kids.

“It’s ticking most of the boxes,” she says. “I can definitely identify with the global culture thing.

“But do I feel incomplete? Not really. I wouldn’t want to socialise with just other TCKs, either. Wouldn’t they be just as mystified as I am?”

“I don’t feel that I have to be friends with other TCKs exclusively, or that it’s easier to befriend them,” agrees James. “I just enjoy meeting others, as it fascinates me as to how they’ve adjusted to life in a different culture.

“I think I fit into the third culture category to some extent,” he adds.

“I can quite easily go from one clique to another without too much hassle.”

Future plans

I ask James where he sees himself in ten years’ time.

“I see myself living in another country,” he says. “I yearn for new experiences. I’m not sure where, but I’d enjoy living somewhere different.

“I will, of course, return to New Zealand, as out of the three places I’ve lived, it’s definitely my favourite.”

Daan concurs.

“I’ve got no idea what the future has to offer, but I’ve got a feeling I’ll still be in Wellington,” he says.

“I can’t see me going back [to Iceland] for good in the near future, but definitely for visits. The weather’s just a lot better here.”

Fairooz is more definite, when I ask her whether she intends to return to Egypt for good.

“God no!” she exclaims.

“My dad just got back from a month stay there, and he said it was like coming back from hell.

“I’d go back for a holiday—Egypt is an amazing place to visit, but I feel as though the only way I can have any pride in my cultural heritage is if I’m not living in a daily reminder of why I left it behind in the first place.

“In ten years, I have no idea where I’ll be,” she says. “Maybe in Europe, maybe still in New Zealand. It’s not such a bad place, after all.”

“Alternative to what?” asks Ellen Page’s character in the 2009 film Whip It, when a friend asks her if she’s gone all, like, alternative now that she’s into roller derby. And it’s true: the definition of alternative sport isn’t an obvious one. You know, though, when there’s no chance of a sport working in a college P.E. programme that it’s a little left-of-centre—and all the more, when it involves fishnet tights and theatrical alter-egos.

This is the charm of roller derby. Part visual spectacle, part fast-paced athleticism, derbyists would describe it as more of a way of life than a recreational activity, so completely does it absorb its participants.

Roller derby is a contact sport, played on roller skates between two teams of five—comprised of four ‘blockers’ and one ‘jammer’—who race each other on one track. The role of the blockers is to assist their team’s jammer through the pack, while blocking that of the opposition. A point is scored each time the jammer passes a blocker from the opposing team. It’s a simple game in theory, fierce and aggressive in practice—and for many of the women involved, that’s part of the appeal.

The creation of roller derby is credited to a Chicago businessman Leo Seltzer, who, in 1935, conceived an endurance race that integrated rollerskating and dance-a-thons. It quickly became known as a performance as well as a sport, because of its combination of physical skill and exhibitionism: roller derby is equally entertaining for its spectactors as for those on the track.

Since its invention, roller derby has gone in and out of bursts of popularity—most recently in Texas in 2001, when a group of women formed the Texas Roller Derby, and gave the sport a real rough-and-tumble edge. Others followed suit by establishing their own leagues, and it spread like wildfire across the United States. Thanks to the media coverage of the sport in films such as Whip It, as well as in music videos and TV series, players feel that this time the sport’s popularity is anything but fleeting: that finally, roller derby is here for good.

Imported from the States

The fact that the sport has spread to New Zealand indicates its enduring popularity.

Black Dahlia (Dale Rio) of the Los Angeles Derby Dolls introduced roller derby to New Zealand in 2006, and helped establish the country’s first league: the Pirate City Rollers (PCR), based in Auckland. Pieces of Hate (Stacey Roper), one of the founding members of the PCR, remembers its conception.

“[Black Dahlia] was coming to New Zealand for a three-month stint and couldn’t handle a trip without her skates,” says Hate. Dahlia sought New Zealanders’ opinions on establishing the sport here.

“She was actually warned against it, because she was told that we’re a ruthless, competitive bunch, and that shit was gonna get nasty!

“I found out about it from the girl tattooing me. She told me about this American woman living in Auckland that played derby in LA, and was thinking of starting it up here. I only went because I skated as a little kid… and I was looking for something to do, exercise-wise, over winter that didn’t involve the gym or running. So I went!”

Pieces of Hate attended the first meeting in New Zealand.

“[Dahlia] got a few of us together and we went to an open skate at Skateland—no pads, no helmets, and horrible rink skates,” says Hate.

“I was the one who negotiated our own hour at the rink—we paid $60 for it, and split it between the 12 of us. It was like that for a while.”

Using the Los Angeles Derby Dolls’ structure as a guideline, Dahlia showed the interested New Zealanders how to recruit new members, make and sell merchandise, establish an art department, and set up a league “like they do in the States”.

“She also taught us the American way of PR,” remembers Hate. “I mean, have you ever heard of any sporting league with its own PR committee? That’s been the key with this sport’s growth—we had someone show us how to market ourselves. It was brilliant!”

Dahlia’s mentoring was instrumental to the spread of the sport throughout New Zealand. The PCR was established in February of 2006, and today is comprised of around 40 active members, although the league’s database has over 150 new skaters, ex-skaters and refs. Within the PCR there are three teams.

“Next year it looks like there could be five teams playing in our league,” says Hate.

It seems that roller derby has found some success with Kiwi women, although Hate says “it’s hard to say” how many are involved in the sport nationally, “because leagues are starting up all over the place”. “There are established leagues in Northland, Wellington, Christchurch and Auckland,” she says.

“Others well on the way include two in Tauranga, and one in Hamilton—and there are leagues starting up in Nelson, Levin, Tauranga, Hawkes Bay, Dunedin and Palmerston North. I’m sure there are more on the way too!”

The Wellington chapter of the roller derby phenomenon is the Richter City Rollers (RCR), founded in 2007. Ruby Deathskates of the RCR says that the league is sitting at 40 members. She guesses that there are 150-200 roller derby skaters in New Zealand, “but that number is growing exponentially”.

Ruby, like Hate, became involved in the sport as soon as it was possible to do so.

“People started meeting to discuss starting up a league here in Wellington in December 2007,” she says. “I watched a video on Youtube and was absolutely gripped with the need to do it. I didn’t know how to skate, but I just… had to get involved.”

Thigh Voltage, also of RCR, felt just as magnetic an attraction towards the sport. She attended the RCR’s first Wellington bout a year ago, and “was totally transfixed”.

“I went with some friends and while they enjoyed it, I just couldn’t stay sitting down. I’d never seen anything like it, and I’d never been so gripped by the need to do something… So, the next day, I rented some skates, and a week later I was training with Richter City.”

Not Suitable for Small Children

Scheisse Minnelli (Hannah Jennings-Voykovich) manages PR for the PCR, and was introduced to the sport through a friend.

“Back in 2007 I went along to the first PCR league bout for the year. My friend Voodoo Child had just started playing, and I wanted to support her,” says Scheisse.

“Though I initially worried I was going to turn up and see her crushed like a bug, she excelled at it.”

When the announcer called for members of the audience to give the sport a go at half-time, Scheisse jumped at the chance.

“A young guy, a small child and I got out there, and had a little race. I could skate, but I couldn’t stop—which proved pretty problematic at the end of the race when I cut a corner to avoid the small child.

“The child freaked out and fell over—of his own volition, for the record!—and I was booed off the rink. When I came off the track, the captain of one of the PCR’s teams pulled me aside and said I should try roller derby, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”

This degree of passion seems par for the course for the typical roller derbyist. Some, like Thigh Voltage’s friends, ‘enjoy’ the spectacle of the sport, but others feel an allure that’s impossible to ignore. What is the point of difference between the spectactor and the fanatic? Who would the girls recommend the sport to?

Hate was initially drawn to the “original punk ethos” of roller derby, and the fact “that similar-minded alternative and aggressive women had [made] a place on the planet for us”, although she allows that the sport is a “bit more mainstream now”.

Despite this, Scheisse has noticed that roller derby continues to be considered a niche sport.

“Common questions I’m asked are, ‘Is that that punk sport?’, ‘Are you all psycho bitches?’ and ‘Isn’t it full of big, scary dykes?’. These clichés get pretty tired after a while, as do my responses to them,” she says.

“Roller derby attracts all manner of women—sporty girls, traditionally non-sporty girls, heterosexuals, bisexuals, pansexuals, mothers, daughters, party girls, homebodies, rockabillies, punks, indie kids, whatever; I hate listing off the hundred-and-one labels you can put on the people who play derby, but it does illustrate the myriad types of women who play this sport…

“Ask anyone who plays roller derby why they love it, and they will no doubt tell you how they love the dynamic the sport presents—you can be fast, agile, tactile, skilful, sexy, feminine, ‘butch’, physical, brutal—all at the same time… The confidence these women find on the track often translates into their everyday lives. A new derby skater often finds her voice, her own sense of style, her cause; anything.”

Scheisse’s ‘vague-but-true’ answer is that she would recommend playing derby to anyone.

Ruby Deathskates adds: “When you’re playing, you don’t have the time to hesitate or doubt yourself. It also gives you an amazing appreciation for the strength of your body, whatever shape, size, or height you are.”

“It empowers you when you play,” agrees Hate. “You get a greater sense of accomplishment because you get nailed, and you fall, and you get hit, but you survive. That’s a cool feeling.”

From her imperturbability, you wouldn’t know that Hate herself has endured a dislocated shoulder, torn posterior cruciate ligament, and medial ligament damage from roller derby. She does, however, admit that the league has been “very lucky not to have had any major ankle or leg fractures.

“We’ve had quite a few knee injuries and cracked ribs, and a broken wrist at our first ever practice. Mostly they’re from slams with the unforgiving concrete… We had a ruptured spleen at practice once, when someone hit one of the unpadded walls.”

Having said that, Thigh Voltage is quick to point out that there’s an element of risk associated with any contact sport.

“We are fit, strong and flexible, which reduces risk, and we also wear safety padding,” adds Ruby Deathskates.

The Feminist Reading

Despite its potential dangers, roller derby empowers its players more often than it impairs them. Scheisse points out that even if it’s not said aloud, roller derby’s feminist stance is “heard loud and clear”.

“Playing the sport challenges pretty traditional notions of what it means to be feminine and sexy, and I love that,” she says.

“I’m someone who has struggled with body image issues for more years than I care to remember, and I now play a sport that embraces and requires women of all shapes, sizes, speeds and temperaments, for different jobs within the game. Playing roller derby has done a lot for my confidence and self-esteem.”

Pieces of Hate agrees. Her friend Sparkle Plenty, a founding member of the Women’s Flat Track Roller Derby Association who is based in Austin, Texas, told her to think of a famous footballer, a famous basketballer, a famous golfer and a famous swimmer.

“What you get are men. [Sparkle] said, ‘Think of a famous derby skater’, and I thought of a woman,” says Hate.

“She said that men have every other sport under the sun as their own, and all we want is one to be ours—one sport to inspire young women, and get young women empowered by other women. It was the coolest thing I’d ever heard, and I’ve played sports my whole life, and never really thought about it before.”

Ruby Deathskates agrees, calling roller derby “a women’s sport, in that it’s completely controlled by the women who skate. It’s awesome.”

Ruby goes on to point out that the media seem to struggle with “the idea of women playing a full-contact sport”, and simplifies roller derby as being “either violence or sex, but of course, the real story is more complex than that”.

Having said that, she considers Whip It, Drew Barrymore’s directorial debut, to have been “a better representation than I’ve seen in some news reports.

“It demonstrated the friendship, the fun, and the challenge of derby. It doesn’t show any decent roller derby, but it does show that other stuff.”

Scheisse says that Whip It “did a lot for roller derby in terms of profile”, and the media attention it received had direct impact for the PCR. “We put on a Whip It-themed bout back in January, and the buzz around it was huge. The game sold out, our ‘Fresh Meat’ mailing list grew to hundreds, we were interviewed for a mainstream women’s magazine, and we had to stock up on helmets and pads…

“To be honest, we have a lot to thank Whip It for, the movie showed not only that anyone can do it, but that there are a lot of really good, really empowering reasons to give roller derby a go.”

Roller Derby 101

Those who do want to “give roller derby a go” can expect nothing but encouragement from the old-timers.

“I think roller derby’s perceived reputation has preceded it in the past—women have been too afraid to give it a go because it looks fun but intimidating,” says Scheisse. “Truth be told, we couldn’t be any less intimidating or any more supportive when it comes to getting into roller derby.”

Hate adds: “The more aggressive, athletic girls tend to excel, but anyone can go from meek to deadly in a year of training.”

The RCR has a similar outlook: Thigh Voltage hadn’t ever skated before she joined the league, and now she’s one of their most outspoken supporters.

“Attitude is the most important thing: the willingness to work hard and learn new skills and keep trying even when it gets tough is more important than anything else,” she says.

Richter City meet twice a week at the Chinese Cultural Centre in Berhampore.

“Our trainings are closed to visitors, unfortunately, but people can meet us at our Freshmeat and Greets at the end of every month, it’s where we sit around and talk to interested people over a couple of beers,” says Ruby, who advises interested parties to check the league’s website www.richtercity.co.nz for details.

Indeed, the RCR is calling for registrations for their April Freshmeat course. This consists of a three-hour session every Sunday, from 11 April to 30 May, which trains people to a competitive level. For details, email freshmeat.richtercity@gmail.com.

“I hope it’s not intimidating for new people,” says Ruby of the course. “It’s so much fun, particularly the contact stuff. It might sound weird to say that, but the contact elements of roller derby are not about trying to hurt people—we’re all friends!”

Asked for final thoughts on roller derby, Ruby advises, “Never try on someone else’s mouthguard. It’s just not going to fit.”

Scheisse says, “Come for the derby, stay for the culture.”

“I’ve learned to stand up for myself in the wider world, because 30 tough bitches that have my back,” concludes Hate. “And if you mess with one derby girl, you mess with all of us!”

Cover image credit: Auckland Sports Photography

Your third birthday is quite the milestone. By now, you have a complete set of baby teeth; you can talk in short but complete sentences; and you’re well on the way to developing your own unique personality. This year, the Victoria Broadcasting Club celebrates its third anniversary, and although the occasion might be overshadowed by Grandma Salient’s turning 72, it’s no less an achievement. Since its formation in 2007, the university’s student radio station has increased in audience, members, and appeal to advertisers—and in keeping with a further twelve months under its belt, the VBC is changing: not only its office, but its personnel.

The VBC was founded in 2007, thanks to the efforts of its programming directors Kristen Paterson and Matthew Davis, and its business director Doug Tereu, all of whom have continued to work on the station until 2010. For about a decade prior, Victoria had been the country’s only university without a student-run radio presence, and it took the perseverance of Paterson, Davis and Tereu—and a summer pilot run—to get the project off the ground, and onto the airwaves, on 88.3FM.

That was the VBC’s first challenge, but not its last: as then-Salient feature writer Nicola Kean reported in a feature on the station at the time of its launch, securing an audience was “equally tough”. Many of Wellington’s radio stations vie for listeners from the same demographic: indeed, Kean’s article speculated whether the newly founded VBC would struggle to compete with Radio Active (Victoria University’s radio station in 1977, before it moved off-campus in the mid ‘90s due to financial difficulties), or provide healthy competition. However, it seems that the VBC found its niche.

Student media moguls

Some of the station’s success can be credited to its team’s refusal to limit themselves: Paterson, Davis and Tereu have been tireless in their efforts to promote the VBC, and this has contributed to its aim to promote local music and events.

“We’re not just a radio station,” Tereu says, and reels off a list of the VBC’s work outside of the studio, including organising Orientation Week concerts; the Bandwagon, its weekly street gig guide; and its show at the San Francisco Bathhouse on Wednesday nights.

He says that these have done a great deal to raise awareness of the station. “When you’re new, with a limited frequency, you really have to expand your horizons.”
Now, Tereu says, VBC is “a huge beast”.

“We have approximately 80 volunteer DJs, as well as 12 people who contribute a large amount of time each week to make sure everything happens: from producing, recording and sales, through to distributing a thousand copies of Bandwagon in town.”

Indeed, Bandwagon just released its one hundredth issue, “meaning it’s been around for 100 weeks”, says Tereu, who describes it as one of the VBC’s biggest achievements to date. “When it’s not around, people miss it.”

It’s hard to believe that just three years ago, the VBC was struggling to source funding and support. Indeed, the trio has succeeded, in Tereu’s words, in “building a company out of nothing, [while] working for nothing for three of the four years” it took them to establish the station.

Matthew Davis concurs. “Like Doug says, we had to build everything from scratch.

“Plus, we didn’t really have a clue of the extent of what was involved in establishing and running a radio station. It was all trial and error—and still is, which I think is part of the appeal.”

For all the appeal of student radio, Tereu et al are moving on from the VBC, marking the end of an era for the station. “Doug, Kristen and I have been here since it started, but if you love something, let it free,” says Davis wryly.

Paterson has returned to university this year, but Davis and Tereu are less forthcoming on their plans for the future. Tereu jokes that they’re planning to set up a student television station.

“We are!” insists Davis. “Bring on the VTC!”

“Yeah, VBCTV,” says Tereu. “We’re hoping to become the Rupert Murdochs of student media.”

Davis adds: “Or else praying that Media Works buys us out. Everyone has their price.”

New blood

Tereu, Davis and Paterson are handing over the helm to Teresa Samuels and Jonathan King, who intend to keep up their good work.

“I don’t really see it as taking over the station,” says Samuels. “The appeal of the VBC for me has always been in my love of music, both international and local, and that the VBC isn’t a commercial radio station.”

She adds, “And it’s still so young—there’s so much that could be done with it.”

Her partner, King, agrees: “We want to continue to build on the hard work of everyone who started the station, and to keep supporting local and independent music.”

One of the first changes to VBC, under Samuels and King’s leadership, will be to move into a new office in the coming months, which it will share with Salient. This will unify Victoria University’s student media like never before.

Editor Sarah Robson thinks that the VBC and Salient “have been unnecessarily separated by four flights of stairs”.

“Being in the same office will open up more opportunities for collaboration and resource sharing,” she says.
Samuels is positive about the move.

“2010 is going to be very exciting for the station, because we get our new studio and recording booth,” she says. “For example, with the separate recording studio, we’ll be able to do live-to-airs with bands more effectively.”

In terms of musical content, anything goes. The VBC targets itself towards Victoria University students, which is a varied demographic.

Davis agrees, “It’s a wide and diverse lot.

“Since each show we have is different, the audiences often are, too. It all depends on who and what is playing. We also have a bunch of people who are former students, or friends of students, tuning in around the world.”

At this stage, according to Samuels, the programming schedule is almost complete. Those interested in hosting a show, however, can register their interest by emailing her or King.

“There are lots of ways people can get involved, besides doing shows,” adds King. “We’re looking for people who want to help out on the news team, including news readers and news writers; producers for shows; contributors for Bandwagon; website developers; even accountants and lawyers for when Tuesday Drive gets a bit defamatory…”

Tereu lists the areas where students can help out the VBC: “Web design, poster art, print reviewers, advertising and sales, marketing, t-shirt design, radio journalism, on-air broadcast experience, host and production, content editors, sound engineering and recording, event management and bookings, music programming and art liaisons, administration and accounts…”

If that weren’t enough, he adds: “I’m probably missing heaps.”

So much radio personality

Along with Salient Co-Arts Editor Kim Wheatley, post-graduate student Maggie S currently co-hosts How’s Your Mental Health?, which airs on Tuesday for two hours from 7pm. While Maggie readily admits that it’s “really self-indulgent” to host your own show (“It’s presuming that other people care about your opinion”), it’s also “a lot of fun”.

“You hang out with your friend for two hours, and gossip,” she says. “We gossip a lot.”

A group of Maggie’s friends tune into How’s Your Mental Health? every week, and give her and Wheatley feedback on their programme via its Facebook fan page (at the time of writing, “You guys are gross” was one such comment). One week, it featured “‘a manifesto of peace’ from a young man to his ex-girlfriend, set to music”, and another—“a lovely young lady has kindly volunteered to sing ‘Both Sides Now’ a cappella for us”.

Regardless of the content, Maggie recommends the experience, especially for those who want to DJ, or show off their esoteric taste. “It’s a great way to meet Wellington people with musical connections, as everyone knows everyone. For example, Seth Frightening has a show [Goodnight Sleepy Sealion, from 11pm on Thursdays until 1am].”

Ryan Eyers reviewed music for Salient in 2009, and now co-hosts a show on the VBC, Word Salad, from 4pm until 7pm on the Wednesday Drive slot. He agrees with Maggie that it’s a great experience for students. “Hosting a show is pretty awesome, basically,” he says.

“The VBC is totally free-form radio, meaning that the producers and station managers let you do and play pretty much whatever you want, which is really cool.”

Eyers remarks that the VBC’s lack of financial support limits its potential. “It’s massively underfunded, which constrains it—such as, it has a small satellite that doesn’t really broadcast a strong enough signal for it to be heard around the city,” he says. “It’s testament to the people that run it that it manages to stay operational on the peanuts it’s given.”

Run by students, for students

Which raises a valid point: why have Tereu, Davis and Paterson spent so much time on the VBC?

“Campus radio is a very important part of any university,” says Tereu. “Over the years, I’ve noticed the lack of campus culture, and no real central point for creative and media types to meet up, share ideas, and hang out. It can give many people the practical experience they won’t get from their studies.

“This station has been built by students—our booth was built by over 30 students over the course of 11 days. And it’s run by students, with a strong emphasis on supporting our local music and community.”

Eyers agrees: “The VBC is probably best known for the shows it puts on, as well as organising things like Orientation, and it’s cool that they’re organised for students by students, rather than some promotional company—and it also means the tickets are pretty reasonable.”

Davis says that the VBC has “very few restraints” for students wanting to contribute practically to the station. “It comes with the freedom to really do what you want to. While we have a playlist, many shows are free-form, and students are welcome to take the initiative.”

King continues, “VBC is one of the few places at Victoria University which is controlled by students—DJs have freedom to run their shows the way they want to, and we support local and independent music. So, as well as being a radio station you can tune in to and hear great music that you can’t find elsewhere, the VBC is a great community of people, producing their own culture, rather than having it produced for them.”

When asked what the VBC has over any other radio station, Davis says that “the difference comes from the people who are involved”.

“They’re the backbone of it all, and without them, we wouldn’t really be anything—plus we have a healthy tradition of cask wine and cheap whiskey.”

Tereu adds: “Our creative department is the most talented in the country—you should see how many times the koosh ball is passed around in our creative meetings. It’s all about the flow of ideas.”

It’s obvious that Tereu and Davis are passionate about the VBC, and believe in its relevance to Victoria University students. What have been their highlights over the course of three years?

Davis jokes: “The fact that it’s still going, and we’re still somewhat sane.”

He goes on: “But also, that we’re now able to pass it on to a bunch of people to keep it going, who share a similar attitude and enthusiasm—something that’s a strong indication that the station is going in the right direction.”

Certainly, King and Samuels seem ideally equipped to take over the station—for, as much as Samuels disagrees with the term, ‘taking over’ the VBC is essentially what they’ll be doing.

King says, “When I was in first year, three years ago, VBC was just starting up. Since getting involved, I’ve met lots of awesome people, and been exposed to a lot of great music—now we just want to make sure that the same opportunity is available for others.”

Samuels adds, “I think it’s important to state that the station is only three years old, and we look forward to seeing it grow.”

Tereu says that it’s always been his intention to hand over the station “when it got to the point where it was running successfully”.

“We can’t wait to see what the new crew will do. Viva la VBC!”