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activism ~ tohunga suppression act 1907

When the great white hope docked their vessels in Aotearoa, and proceeded to ‘discover’ the already occupied land; they brought with them alcohol, tobacco, lawlessness, drunkenness … and disease.

Our indigenous population prior to 1840 was approximately between 90,000 and 100,000, and pakeha population was approximately 2000.

Not quite 50 years later, indigenous population had declined by nearly 60%! And pakeha had the cheek to quote our ‘savage’ beliefs as the cause of our decline and suggest we embrace christianity. Our population decline however, had nothing to do our belief system, and everything to do with our immunities not being equipped to deal with the infestation of foreign diseases. Other Indigenous cultures throughout the world, experienced similar ‘die offs’, which at the time, were also attributed to their ‘pagan’ practices.

So as we died off by the thousands and christianity was implemented as the saviour, the Crown systematically set about destroying what was left of the Indigenous identity.  The Tohunga Suppression Act 1907, is but one of the Acts, the Crown has used to oppress, assimilate and dictate how Tangata Whenua should behave, act and respond. This little shit stain Act of Parliamentattempted to kill the practice of ‘healing thy self’, which I might add, we were very good at prior to colonisation.

So by the time this Act was Repealed in 1962, it had semi done what it was designed to do.

Ref: Charissa Waerea 2011 Home Birth Conference

Recently this ugly Act and it’s ‘intent’, have raised its horns again. Once again the Crown is trying to define what is ‘right’ and what is ‘safe‘ for Tangata Whenua, by their own ethnocentric understanding and standards, and to sanction and punish,  how Tangata Whenua practice their own forms of healing.

“In a written statement, the Ministry of Health told The Hui that “certain activities are restricted to particular health practitioners, because of the risk of serious or permanent harm to members of the public if those activities are carried out by other persons.”” (News Hub)

The thing with one group believing they are superior to another, is they believe they also have the right to decide how ‘the others’ should moderate, regulate and heal themselves. Need I remind the Crown that a. Tangata Whenua were healthy before they sailed in on their colonial vessels and b. the Crown has not down a great job overseeing their own peoples health let alone Indigenous health.

I suggest they fuck off and mind their own business, but considering they probably won’t; I suggest We re-learn, if necessary – or continue to practice, if known – the holistic techniques our ancestors used prior to the colonial invasion. We are a resourceful people; well equipped to dismantle the ideologies forced upon us, and well equipped to embrace wellness.

This is the Act of Decolonisation, which we need to do in every area of our thinking if we want to thrive, not just survive.

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mauri of me #25 ~ moko #3

Like all the mokos, moko #3 is special … and being a nanny means I am completely biased … as I should be. However, what gets Me about moko #3, or little miss 8 now … is she’s a pain in the ass lol. What admire though is how she is able to ‘read the room’ (in her unique way) and figure out in minutes what a person’s vulnerability or sore point is. She generally can figure out what she needs to do to exploit that persons weakness to get what she wants. On its own, this ‘trait’ sounds kinda dodgy lol … but I realised one day, that this shit is what people train for when they go into sales … how to read a person and exploit their ‘weakness’ to get a sale.

Well miss moko has figured out how to do this all on her own 😉

Whats also interesting though, is she won’t exploit the ‘actual’ vulnerable.

We have a nephew who has severe CP, and miss 8 / moko #3, will spend hours playing quietly with him. This is a 2 fold thing for her though … 1. she’s able to hang out with the nephew and spend time with him and 2. when she wants quiet time, if she goes by him, no-one bugs her because ‘polite people’ can’t deal with a severely impaired CP nephew; so they leave them both alone. Now how freaking genius is that.

I admire that moko #3 is able to manage her; is able to get what she needs and what she wants; I admire that she pushes every and any boundary to adjust and find her own; I admire that she pisses people off so easily and isn’t terribly phased – cos you know how many years people sit in a councillors office trying to figure this shit ay!; I admire that she ‘sees’ people – their insides – their intent – long before the person can themselves.

Added to all this charm, moko #3 is an awesome little fashionista. She knows what she likes and how to put it together and she doesn’t give a rats ass what other people think or say … because there have been some rude bastards comment on how ‘she’s put together’, criticising her style. But she brushes it off like it aint no thing … and usually gives them a look of  … ‘what ever ; you obviously have no idea’ lol. Not once does she take any of that criticism on board!

I love miss moko #3 … I can’t wait to see what she does next 😉

birthdays birthdays

April and June are our birthday steroid months. I think theres 5 or 6 in April and the same for June.

Cool Story … lol,

Which brings Me to this weekend; where there will be, what was going to be, a small gathering of friends and fams.

Last count 25 and rising … eek.

All good … I’m breathing … I have my toolkit … eek.

Seriously though … this will be the first time in about 4 years that I’ve been in the same vicinity with all of the fams – both sides.

Eek and double eek.

Oh and I have drugs if I need them 😉

Wish Me luck … if I can pull this shit off without offending anyone to badly or having a giant ass meltdown … the possibilities could be endless 😉

Oh, and my father is apparently flying into the country on Saturday … again … maybe.

Eeeeeekkkk.

once upon a fucking time

once upon a fucking time.

yep.

once upon that motherfucking time.

I thought the grass was

green.

and the fucking sky was

blue.

I thought growing up.

meant growing better.

I thought being better meant.

being safer.

I thought, once upon a fucking time.

that when I got there.

and the grass was actually

gold.

and the sky was actually

silver.

all the little motherfucking things.

that little people have to do.

wouldn’t be any fucking more.

but as it turns out.

the grass isn’t green, or gold.

its burnt fucking amber.

the sky isn’t fucking blue, or silver.

its blood red.

and big people are full

of shit.

cos they knew it was

like that all along.

and pretended that it wasn’t.

they, you see.

wear rose tinted fucking glasses.

and didn’t want to say that

the glass isn’t just fucking half empty.

is fully fucking cracked.

mauri of me #23 ~ sensitives

I come from a family of ‘sensitives’ … sensitive skin, sensitive tummy, sensitive hearing, sensitive taste … Just sensitive all round.

And then theres the ‘other’ sensitive. The one ‘they’d’ medicate or lock you up for, if you talked about it ‘out loud’.

It’s the sensitive that see’s whats supposedly not there. That hear’s whats supposedly inaudible. That can smell subtleties that no-one else can smell. That can sense what ‘isn’t’ there.

Is this such a strange phenomenon for Indigenous? No. It’s not. And prior to the Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907, the sensitivity I’m talking about was called matakite.  For mainstream though, it’s something they don’t understand and fuck up, whilst they try and understand it or distinguish it.

I always had trouble distinguishing between my dreams and nightmares and what was actually present. Both freaked Me out. And when my eldest daughter came along, and she could sense similar things, I also freaked out. Some of this was to do with the Christian belief that everything that couldn’t be seen, was evil; or there was something inherently evil about the ‘see-er’.

When my 2nd daughter came along, her ‘sixth sense’ about things was quite ‘organic’ and natural. It didn’t seem freaky or mystical so to speak. It just seemed normal.

By the time my mokos came along, we were all beginning to embrace what we were as pretty normal, even though we didn’t fully understand it. Moko #1 senses what isn’t seen and whats not spoken. Moko #2, can smell whats not there; she can also understand whats ‘not spoken’. Moko #3 can hear the almost inaudible; and can also see your motive; she can also sense your pain. Moko #4 can hear your motive.

And Me. Well I’m still working out the difference between whats a sensitivity and whats pts(d). But I know whats a dream now, and what isn’t. I know now, when to ask my tipuna (ancestors) for assistance and advice.

What I like the most … is that my mokos won’t struggle with all of this like I did, or like my daughter did. For them, its natural, and they’re learning how to make it work for them.