This year felt a little different when it came to the Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival. Yes, it was a significantly shorter and pared back season than previous years, and it arrived for the first time during Matariki, but these aren’t the differences I’m referring to here… It was the fact that, despite the different time of year and the shorter lead in, locals knew exactly what to do. It felt significant, a moment to acknowledge that Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival has well and truly become a part of our cultural landscape, despite the enormous challenges the team have faced to keep the kaupapa tracking, through the chaos that the pandemic has wrought for the majority of the Festival’s relatively short life span. Last month, when Te Ara I Whiti lit up, whānau knew the drill: bundle and boot up, and get down to Te Pūtahi to enjoy a truly unique collection of contemporary Māori design along with the other locally-bred creative offerings that come with the lights. I caught up with Tama Waipara, Chief Executive and Artistic Director of Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival to reflect on the Festival’s first Matariki season. He described what he says couldn’t have been a more perfect Opening Night, “the light of the sunset just melted into the lights. [The sky] was an incredible pinky orange and as that light came down, the lights of the works came up as whānau began folding in. It was just magical”. Tama agrees that the Festival has become a “norm” for us here. And while it feels like somewhat of a coming of age for our people to be able to attend the kinds of arts and cultural experiences you’d usually only be able to access in the cities, Tama is quick to point out that people in other centres don’t actually get to experience anything remotely like Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival. By its very definition, the Festival is ‘of this place’. It is place-based and comes from the knowledge that we are all culturally located. It is a space that has been claimed for the stories of Te Tairāwhiti to be told through the arts, and with a kaupapa Māori lens, and it is that which makes it different from anything you can currently find elsewhere. This very intentional and utterly unique kaupapa, is also, let’s be honest, the very thing that has created ‘a bit of a rub’ around the place, as there’s a big chunk of our local population - just under half of us - who aren’t at all used to being left out of the narrative. Tama talked about how hard he finds it “to have a simple conversation these days” and ain’t that the truth. The more we learn about our own inbuilt biases, and are able, little by little, to discern the myriad different ways in which the pervasive lens of colonisation and the capitalistic system has skewed our perceptions of everything. Indeed, we realise that we should and can never assume anything. Tama sees visibility as one of the primary issues for Tūranga. “Seeing and knowing how you connect to place is deeply restorative and vital to knowing where we all stand.” It seems to me, Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival is an incredibly powerful vehicle by which we can begin to heal decades of entrenched racism and trauma. For Tauiwi and Pākeha, there are so many opportunities for learning and for nurturing our understanding, for listening. For Māori, a chance to celebrate, to heal and to deepen connection. I’m looking forward to seeing how the Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival continues to evolve. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to Tama about the Festival without him mentioning the way kids interact with the festival spaces, filling them up with the sounds of their enjoyment and their spirit. For our tamariki to be growing up in a time in which there is no longer just the one single-sided narrative, for them to get to witness us, often clumsily and often with hurt, attempting these difficult conversations, for Māori tamariki to have the opportunity to grow up knowing their own stories, after so many years when that was not so, these are the reasons why Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival will always be one of the most important things that happened around here in contemporary times. Kia ora Tama & Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival team Story by Sarah Cleave Image credits Phil Yeo for Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival

It’s the first day of winter when I meet Kauri Forno and her dog Swish at the Women’s Native Tree Project Nursery housed at EIT, and both seemed very pleased with the weather. A warm breeze and gentle sunlight made for ideal working conditions, and more importantly, there had been a huge rain the night before, “perfect for all the plants that have just gone in the ground.” Early winter is prime planting season, an exciting time for Kauri and the volunteers who work with her, as they see the seedlings they’ve tended at the nursery off to find their roots in the community. The kaupapa of the Women’s Native Tree Project is to bring more native trees back to Tairāwhiti, and to remind people of the importance of these species. The nursery is not commercial and all the trees are gifted to community groups and spaces such as schools, marae, and restoration areas. In 2021, the Project donated 6,200 native trees to the community. As a trained teacher, Kauri has also developed educational programs that bring thousands of students through the nursery each year, teaching them how to collect seeds, propagate and pot tiny seedlings, and get the cuttings planted out and protected as they grow. One high school program called Wai Restoration enables students to work with Kauri every Friday for a whole term, seeing the process from seed collection all the way through planting and pest management. “Kids inherently have a sense of caring for Papatūānuku. They get it.” The “it” that kids quickly grasp is the far reaching impact native species have on the entire ecosystem. Kauri explains that while all the environmental challenges we’re facing can be quite overwhelming, one solution is simple: plant native trees. “This is the simplest thing we can all do that connects to everything, like waterways, climate change, biodiversity.” Kauri has long been passionate about natural spaces, “in my heart I really feel a huge drive to awhi Papatūānuku.” Her passion is also fueled by what she sees happening around us, knowing we can do better. “It really bothers me that in summer I can’t swim in any of the rivers because they’re too polluted.” Without natives, soil erodes easily and herbicides and pesticides flow into waterways. But trees act as a buffer between land use and rivers, helping to protect waterways from pollution. Trees also absorb heaps more carbon dioxide than grass, which is critical to combat climate change. “When we had floods or severe weather events, it surprised me that no one started planting natives. Now they’re starting to.” The students thrive on learning practical skills, and that gives Kauri hope. “They’ll go on and work on farms and farmers will love that there is a young person who knows what to do and why to do it.” Kauri observes that iwi also inherently understand the value of natives to honor whakapapa. Hapu are learning to restore the balance of native trees on their ancestral land. And cooperation with Māori landowners has enabled future generations of trees. In one special instance, the Project received permission to go into ancient forest and collect seeds from two-thousand year old Pūriri trees. “Those seeds are taonga. And now they’ve gone to all kinds of places.” The growth and longevity of the Project is impressive and a credit to its impassioned volunteers. Founded in the late 1980’s by Kathie Fletcher and Maree Conaglen, the Women’s Native Tree Project was born out of the desire to create an alternative, welcoming space for women. Until that point, women participating in similar groups did not feel they were being heard. For years the women just kept plants in various backyards, steadily outgrowing each space until 2014 when EIT offered them the space that now houses their nursery and enables them to host student groups. Volunteers gather at the nursery fortnightly for “Weeding Wednesday,” spending a couple hours chatting and weeding before sharing a kai. There are also monthly events tending to the various spaces they manage, like Lovers Lane, Titirangi Maunga, and the Waikanae Stream. Work involves weeding (they don’t use any sprays) and monitoring pests. Kauri warns it might involve killing snails, which she found difficult as an animal lover when she first got started, but some of those introduced pests can undo a day’s work in a single night. The Project also keeps an eye on already-established natives. Anzac Park boasts some big old totara that need ongoing care to control pests and weeds. The District Council has provided some support with traps for pests, but more helping hands would definitely be put to good use! Volunteers - including men! - are welcome at any event. Sometimes kids join in too. Covid dropped volunteer numbers, but they are hopeful they’ll see growth again. “We understand what life is like, and no one is expected to come to everything. Even just once a year is really helpful.” Volunteers speak of the work and the learning that goes with it as “addictive.” Treasurer Jilly Ward says there’s a real reward in providing an example of growing trees in public spaces that aren’t really cared for, like roadsides and riparian areas. “People see those trees and it gives them confidence that they can propagate trees for themselves as well.” Kauri also plans to resume monthly workshops at the nursery, open to anyone who wants to learn more about native trees and growing them. “We’re a voice to remind people to appreciate natives. There’s a native for anything you’d ever want.” Kauri is keen to advise any groups that have a space in mind they want to plant. But she cautions it likely needs to be fenced, to protect against hazards like livestock, lawnmowers, and in the case of schools, flying balls! Some groups come to her with particular species in mind, and some have no idea. But she is happy to chat to determine what trees are right for the space. And that often means long-term thinking, envisioning how big the trees will be in hundreds of years. One big challenge for the group is funding. They are very grateful to EIT for providing the nursery space and Trust Tairāwhiti, which has provided funding which pays for part of Kauri’s nursery management role and the trees they provide. Jilly is their major fundraiser and explains, “funders are effectively buying the trees for the community.” It’s a hard model to sustain without burnout, and they would welcome further support. Sustainability is a goal, but Kauri dreams of a future when their work is no longer necessary. “It could be hundreds of years away, but I hope eventually there will be enough trees that we won’t need to exist.” To get involved or offer support, follow the Women’s Native Tree Project on Facebook and/or join their email list. “We are really keen for people to get in touch. Come and learn from us.” WNTP are looking for another nursery assistant/intern to work with Kauri. 5 hours per week. $21.20 per hour. Would suit high school student interested in native trees, te taiao, conservation. Email kauri_99@yahoo.co.uk if you're interested. Thanks Kauri and team for helping to green our Tairāwhiti! Story by Victoria Williams. Photos by John Flatt.

It was the perfect start to a day. About ten Te Wharau School kids and I filed into the classroom, past the hand lettered sign at the door, “Kimi Hā” reminding us to find our breath. Inside we sit cross legged on the mat, warm with morning sun. Even if the sun had not been shining, the room would have had an innate warmth or glow to it. Gentle music, potted plants, treasures foraged from nature and hand drawn pictures and diagrams depicting breathing techniques and workings of the brain, leave no doubt as to the intention of this room, this is a safe space. A couple of years ago Maiko Lewis-Whaanga approached Te Wharau School leadership with an idea. Having been delving into mindfulness practices for herself and her own whānau, Maiko was inspired to create spaces in which those learnings could be shared with our young people. Recognising how much hard work it can be for adults to rewire neural pathways that have been forged over decades of stress, anxiety and trauma she could see the power in our tamariki having mindfulness practices alongside numeracy and literacy in their kete. Especially in those formative years, when brains are like sponges and are so busily building those pathways. Te Wharau’s principal, Mark Harris agrees that in these times “mindfulness learning is more valuable than ever”. He sees the increasingly busy lives being led by whānau and tamariki and the stresses and worries of today’s challenges at the heart of that need. Te Wharau School endeavours to provide their learners with the opportunity to be well rounded in all areas of their life and Mark sees their mindfulness programme as sitting across all of those areas. “Not only capable academically but socially equipped people with strong values, who are nurturing and resourceful, are active and creative, and continue to remain culturally connected. “We see mindfulness as a tool for life across all of these areas of learning and we see value in developing strategies to manage yourself and your emotions in all situations, while finding solace and connection in our natural world”. During the course of the one hour session, Maiko leads the tamariki of Room 13 through a series of practices which variously connect the learners with their different senses, their breath and emotions, such as gratitude. As they move, explore, listen, watch and share, it’s clear that these kids aren’t strangers to any of these concepts, frequently adding to the kōrero with examples from their own days and lives. Outside the sun is shining after a night of heavy rain, and the kids are keen to show me the school ngahere. As we take our mindful walk across the steaming grass and through the school māra, the students focus on what they sense around them. Mint is picked and tasted, oranges collected off the ground along with other natural treasures to take with them into the ngahere. Birds are calling through the trees and the creek is rushing along its course. A mural depicting the nature of different native trees accompanies our descent, which is another Te Wharau School taonga I was wanting to check out during this visit… In 2021 Katy Wallace embarked on an art project with senior Te Wharau students through the Creatives in Schools Programme. As a Te Wharau parent who had watched her own kids’ creative progression through childhood, she had aspirations to shake things up a bit. After consulting with Te Wharau teachers, a project that used art to kickstart the rejuvenation of the school ngahere was decided upon. Students jumped in for an initial clean up and amid some fixing up of fences and pathways, Katy came up with an approach that would enable fun and messy art exploration for the students, and a meaningful role in the transformation of their school environment. Over the course of the project Katy worked with seven different classes for three and a half days each. Each group was led through a process from idea conception through to the production of artworks, which would furnish the bush in different ways. Katy loves to see kids’ own unique craziness expressed in their art, and so the initial part of the process used warm up exercises to encourage play and experimentation, helping kids to move beyond wanting things to look a certain way, and getting too precious about their work. It was fast-paced Katy says, but “so much fun”, with the kids exploring creative methodologies of abstraction and transcribing, as well as being introduced to new mediums along with the associated materials and tools to bring the works to fruition. At the end of each week they needed to have created a piece of work that would withstand living in the bush. While some of the works ended up in the School hall, such as a map of the Matariki Constellation, made of solar prints, the pieces that are installed in the ngahere allow visitors to experience the landscape more deeply. Our descent into the gully is marked by a mural depicting resident rākau, expressed via abstracted markings. We scan for the birds filling the gully with birdsong and metal forms dangling from the trees catch our gaze as they swing in the breeze. Someone remarks at the way the forms are becoming a part of the bush as the metal oxidises, turning the same colour of the trees that they hang from. We sit around a circle of tree stumps, marked with different patterns from our surroundings. One by one each of the tamariki stand up to place treasures they’ve picked up on the way, into the centre of the circle. As each child places their object in relation to those that have been placed already, they share aloud the things they are grateful for. Thanks are given for whānau and for friends. Someone expresses gratitude to their pets, another; yummy kai, “especially hāngi”. Another little guy is effusive “everyone in the whole world”. We leave the treasures in their mound on the ground for the birds to peck at, the wind to carry away or to decompose into the soil. Back up in the classroom it’s a little breathwork and yoga, before we all set off on the rest of our days, lighter and yet more grounded somehow. I’m really grateful that we live in a time in which the importance of mindfulness is more widely understood; that more holistic approaches are being taken into education, which kids can then share with their whānau. I’m stoked for programmes like Creatives in Schools, which recognise the unique skill sets creative practitioners possess; and enable creatives to open up new worlds of seeing and doing for tamariki. I’m glad for passionate locals such as Maiko and Katy who are driven to create opportunities like these for our tamariki, and to go after them. And big ups to Te Wharau School for seeing the possibilities and leaping in. Thanks for having me Te Wharau! Maiko Lewis-Whaanga is a Toihoukura graduate, and will be exhibiting in ‘Pick and Mix’ opening July 9 at the Tairāwhiti Museum. She is performing as a part of the Sound Collective at the Dome Birthday Party this weekend and is hosting a Mindfulness Workshop at Gizzy Local on Monday 20 June, 4 - 4:45pm. Bringing together origami, movement and breath work for kids and adults alike. Kids $5, adults $10 Book your spot at hello@gizzylocal.com! Katy Wallace has a long career of designing and creating. She has a Master’s Degree in Art and Design and has taught at Unitec and AUT. Her furniture works are held in numerous collections and museums and have been exhibited around Aotearoa. You may have checked out the Caravannex at Te Tairawhiti Arts Festival 2020, which Katy designed and built with partner Paulus McKinnon. Katy is one of the curators of NOise VACANCY. Story & photos Sarah Cleave

hey bro! it’s me, renee! remember? we went to school together. did we? mangapapa? lytton. or wait, was it footy - nooo, ilminster surf club! nah nah nah, I was flatting with your cousin like 9 years ago, right? ah shit sorry man, i don’t remember how I know you, ‘cause damn, Gisborne is so small ain’t it? but how you been anyway? what am I doing with myself these days? uhh sheesh I dunno man, what am I doing with my life? well, existential questions aside, long story short I used to be graphic designer but that kinda sucked so I packed up my life and moved into a van and now yada yada yada, happiest I’ve ever been, and all that. yeah I guess the nine to five designer thing never really worked out since my creative process is kinda like, stay up late, sink a few beers, crank some jazz and let some wild abstract ideas germinate in a tiny moonlit bedroom. plus my greatest fear is living a boring life. so now I work in a carpark on a ski field hahaha. up at the crack of dawn to fight the wrath of blizzards and deal with sassy karens in landrovers. makes for a refreshing change to staring at the same patch of ceiling in an office building, day in and out. I still rustle up a few projects on the side from time to time, though. I ‘spose my style is as much defined by circumstance as it is sensibility. bored but broke. hyped but short on time. sleepless adrenaline. clean cut grunge. pre-internet nostalgic. humbly subversive. deliberately vague. deep thinking wrapped up in fish n chip paper. but it’s all about the ‘zines for me now, man. zines? it’s like short for ‘magazines’. zeeeeeeeen. it’s basically like when you’re too skint to produce a proper professional magazine with a publisher so you just do it all yerself. DIY culture, baby. but they’re pretty sick, no ads, no consumerist bullshit. a little punk, super creative, fully independent, subcultural, underground kinda stuff. yeah clearly still shamelessly hanging onto my youth, you know! the good old days, remember? when phones didn’t exist, scabby knees, bruised shins, salty hair and a sunburnt face was kind of the most of your worries and print was king, magazines were the tits, siamese dream was on the radio, and your bedroom walls were plastered with spreads you’d pulled out of skate mags and inserts from your favourite CDs that dad had blown up with the photocopier at work. that was the stuff that got me super juiced on design and still does. actually dude, I just started up this thing called subzero. it’s basically a collective made up of a few homies who make dope art which we put together into zines and photo books and what not. You know, skaters, muso’s, poets, snow bums and all that jazz. the whole magic mustard thing is part of it too. yeah, people are pretty curious about magic mustard. apparently there’s some kind of intriguing mystery to it. so naturally I try not to answer too many questions about it. but what I can tell ya dude is that a brand spankin’ new issue is popping up all over the country right now. and if you’re fast you might be able to nab a free copy from Zephyr out at Wainui, or grab a whiskey from Sam at Siduri and he might let you have a read of his. so yeah that’s me, man. same old. if i’m not pottering around my parents’ house covered in spray paint and spilt beer i’ll probably be behind the wheel of my boy Fargo, camera close at hand, heading somewhere remote for a few kumbayas around a campfire. Either that or I’m eating shit while pretending like i can still surf, skate or snowboard. ya know it’s funny, when I grew up here as a kid I kinda had this idea in my head that gisborne was a bit of a lame place to be and that nothing was really gonna happen for me until I got outta here. but the more places I go and the more people I meet the more I can start to appreciate the perspective you get from growing up out east. there’s definitely a vibe here that breeds very mellow and humble people. shit my bad, I feel like I’ve just talked about myself this whole time! anyway dude, I gotta go but good seeing you bro! keep in touch! keep it weird and keep it wild! yeeeewwww! Words by Renee Pearson Photograph by Tom Teutenberg Instagram: @8192rpm @subzero.distro

Laura Marsh is a feminist sound system builder, conceptual object maker, and sound and installation artist. Very recently she also became a mum. Growing up in Dunedin and Wanaka, Laura could often be found dancing around the lounge with her walkman in hand. 1989 was a formative year with Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation and Redhead Kingpin hitting the charts - Laura Marsh had found American hip hop. Laura studied film at Ilam in Christchurch whilst also putting in a healthy effort maintaining her status as a snowboarding and surf bum. It was then that she got her first taste of DJing, with hours upon hours of hangs n’ jams at a friend’s flat with a resident set of turntables and yet another friend’s collection of 90’s hip hop records. Upon graduating from Ilam she moved to the North Island, to join the ‘film industry circus’ in Auckland, finding herself working on American turn around TV. Living with DJs it was only a matter of time before Laura learnt that one could get paid 80 bucks an hour to play records for other people. With that valuable piece of information in hand she hit the secondhand shops to expand her fledgling 80’s vinyl collection, found herself a couple of party slots and excitingly, a way to fund a transition from working in film to ‘being an artist’. In 2009 Laura enrolled to do her Masters in Art and Design at AUT. Her Masters Project ‘The Trouble With Being A Proud Pākehā’ spoke to the culture shock she had experienced moving from the South Island to Auckland, and the troubles inherent in claiming one’s white ethnicity. While Laura had spent her life ‘making’, she was ready to ‘make’ with deeper ideas to inform and shape her practices, which were many and varied. She has a lot of good things to say about the AUT Art and Design School, with its amazing facilities, contemporary approach and openness and support for its students. While in Auckland Laura started the radio show ‘The Lushelection’ on Base Fm, which kept going for ten years and became somewhat of a breeding ground and point of connection for female DJs, who Laura had come to realise were few and far between. A three-month art residency in an ‘arts town of 3 million’ in Java, Indonesia supplied Laura with another culture shock to fuel her creative direction. Some of the projects she initiated there would feed into the PHD proposal that she submitted upon her return to Auckland. One of these projects was a women’s only dance club, for which she hired a big sound system for one night in order that local women could freely enjoy low frequency music in a safe environment. Laura’s PHD thesis focused on the creation of women prominent spaces, to support greater gender diversity in what have traditionally been strongly male dominated and masculine environments; the DJ and bass-music scenes. The benefits associated with growing up in a family of engineers became evident once it became clear that she was going to build a feminist sound system by hand for her PhD. The result is ninthWavesound - a sound system which ultimately is about enabling everyone the pleasure and the benefits of experiencing low frequency music, in a free space that everyone can feel comfortable in. NinthWave has been the soundsystem in Wendy’s Wellness tent for the last two Splore festivals and was the system for the electronic stage at the Earthbeat Festival last year, with Laura curating the stage’s lineup, getting a few more female DJs behind the decks. Laura Marsh is pretty stoked to have landed in the Tairāwhiti at this point in her life and is excited to get amongst some community projects, to collaborate and see what happens when women move into a space of ownership around sound making. Laura’s aspiration for ninthWavesound is as a safe space for people to find their way into sound, and to feel it. While she is currently navigating the early days of parenthood Laura looks forward to hearing from people interested in collaborating with workshops, listening, dancing and sound healing events, and rangatahi-based events…anything involving sound, inclusivity and requiring a kick-ass sound system! You can listen your way through Laura’s old radio shows and mixes on mixcloud.com/djlauralush, connect on instagram @ninthwavesound and check out her art or connect with a sound collaboration idea at lauramarshartist.nz Image credit: Brett Crockett

I’ve been plotting to kill my lawn for a while now. I get pangs of guilt, and not feeling right when I think about it. But that’s the social conditioning. Like Bilbo, on realising he wanted to keep the ring, I decide I will kill my lawn. After all, it’s my lawn. Why shouldn’t I kill it? Recently we heard that climate change is coming faster than scientists predicted, and I’m not ashamed to admit, I’m a little nervous. I am surprised we are not completely panicking at this point. I just may be, on the verge. I do not know much about the science of climate change, and I am a novice gardener, but I would like to grow a forest in my front yard. I have no idea how to do that, but I know why I need to. Planting native species is a straightforward way to decolonise the whenua. Trees store more carbon than lawn, and forests help cool the planet. They restore biodiversity and provide an attractive ecosystem for wildlife. “What will the neighbours think?” Asks a naysayer. “You’ll get no light!” Says another. “What about storm damage?” “It might de-value your property.” “People with kids need lawns, to kick a ball around.’ They say. Anyone who knows me, knows that when someone tells me I can’t do something, it only fuels a raging desire to prove them wrong. These were all fair comments, but they were also challenges that could be overcome, if the planting was well planned, and mindful of utilities like the water pipe. The idea to build a micro forest came mostly, via the algorithm. I have a penchant for ‘garden rescues’ on YouTube, and my searches through permaculture and food forest videos, led me to Akira Miyawaki, a Japanese botanist who developed a method for growing rich, dense, productive, self-sustaining forests in urban areas. The approach ensures that tree growth is ten times faster and thirty times denser than usual. Native trees are planted in bulk in the same area and the forest becomes maintenance-free after the first three years. I start obsessing over every lawn in Tairāwhiti. A vision of every unused lawn space, filled with bushy trees. Imagine all the fantails, Tui, and Kererū we’d see. I’m thinking critically about our outdated, completely passe lawns. They are nothing but a nod to colonial status. For hundreds of years, kiwis have been killing forests to replace them with grass for stock, or displaying non-functional lawns based on English gardens. Mowing the lawn is a staple kiwi weekend feature, but lawn mower emissions are partially responsible for pollution in urban environments. Between five and 10 percent of engine pollution comes from lawn mowers. Death to the common lawn! If you are going to have one, at least let it grow into a meadow and ditch the lawn mower. Science didn’t need to tell me that when I was a kid. I would have traded grass for a forest, any day. I climbed trees, cast spells with sticks, and made huts on the riverbank. In small part, it is that inner child who is driving the decision, to create a magical forest and slay the lawn. I may risk being known as a witch who lives in a forest. Our fire-pit does look suspiciously like a cauldron and I do have a black cat. As someone who prefers the company of trees over people, I like the Witch idea. The possibilities are endless when you have a forest in your front yard. Although it hurts my middle-aged brain, I desperately want to understand the science. Global warming mitigation feels entirely out of my league. The working class have little control over how we deal with climate change. We are relying on the government for policy, and wealthy landowners for bush regeneration. Preventing climate change is an elite sport, and if you don’t speak the lingo you can’t play on the team. I become engulfed in a new world of political, social, and environmental science. I tend to be obsessive if something piques my interest; want to know everything, right through to statistics and comparisons. I want to make as much of an impact as possible, on the things that are within my control. So, I go big. I need advice from an expert in urban regeneration. I contact Bruce Clarkson, a Botanist at Waikato University, who is an expert in restoring indigenous nature in urban environments. I need to know if my idea is feasible or even, worth the effort. We own a small property in Gisborne, 716 square metres to be exact. I have mapped out a 10 x 8 square metre patch of grass to be planted with trees. Will this be beneficial towards climate change? “In brief, any urban forest can be valuable for a wide range of reasons,” Bruce says. “We have been building urban forests here in Hamilton for about 60 years, but mostly the last 20.” The benefits of urban forests are clear, they are good for community wellbeing, they cool down the planet, increase the wildlife and biodiversity, and in suburban homes, they can provide privacy and act as a wind break. Especially good for us here in Tairāwhiti, to reduce the afternoon sea breeze. Amid my mind mapping, firework display. I speak with Jo Cathie, who spent five years in Melbourne as part of a team, leading volunteers in the revegetation of urban wasteland, with locally indigenous tree species. Their approach was to experiment, with trial and error, rather than just relying solely on existing science. “It’s important to know what plants grow naturally together in certain climates and conditions. Australian natives do not require added fertilisers as they need very little fertility. However, the initial establishment phase is not easy. We found that preparing the site with thick wood chip mulch to suppress weeds and hold moisture was a good start. There would often be a high casualty rate and periodically we would remove the failures and replant. It was an ongoing process. This may have been because the existing biology and mycorrhizal fungi in natural forests, is non-existent in lawns and disturbed urban spaces. The revegetation project was about prioritising biodiversity, community, and vision, over schedules, cost, and productivity.” My Google search history is a souffle of tangents and rabbit holes. I follow each vague notion and end up with the loose ingredients of a recipe for a messy story. I move through the sequestering of carbon, to compostable weed mats. What are mycorrhizal fungi? Best soil? Compost? Mulch? What is this thing called biochar? Do I need to buy a special biochar furnace? Where can I find funding? *Brain malfunction. Blank. Am I really going to make any difference by going through with it? I am silly for thinking I can do this on my own, or, at all. I don’t know enough, and I don’t have the funds to follow this all the way through, as small as it is. I should just shut up and mow the lawn. However, before I get the chance to quit, a friend suggests I contact a local charity called The Native Women’s Tree Trust. And it is here that I find a most helpful Earth Angel. Kauri Forno, and her kuri, Swish, are the managers of The Women’s Native Tree Project Trust, a registered charity who supply native seedlings at no cost to educational or community groups to plant in public spaces. I hit her with about 50 questions. “No, biochar isn’t overly necessary,” says Kauri. “We know the whakapapa of all our seedlings, and they haven’t been babied. They grow well here and we know this. You can plonk them in the ground, and they’ll grow. That’s the beauty of planting local natives, this is where they are meant to be.” The relief flows through me and although I have not been able to source any funding, she gives me at least twenty seedlings to get me started. I talk about my micro forest plan within the community, and in true Gizzy spirit, I receive offers of native seedlings from other people’s gardens. It is feasible after all, if I just stop overthinking it. Cardboard boxes will be my weapon of choice to kill the lawn. It smothers weeds within three weeks and can be left on the soil to break down and provide nutrients for the soil. Worms love it! Cover it with compost and woodchip mulch. Colin from the Nelson Whakatu Micro Forest Initiative suggests that if you can’t access biochar, mushroom compost will do. You don’t have to buy special mycorrhizal fungi to help roots grow, unless you have the time and money to do it perfectly. Take it from me, perfection is not needed. Just plant the damn trees. Colin tells me they sourced their funding from the Nelson council environmental fund, and I’m pleased to find an equivalent available through our local council. I will try my luck and apply for funding once that stream opens, but for now, I have what I need to start. And that is all it is, really. Starting. It’s the hardest part. The autonomy in reforestation is not just there for rich landowners. We can all be autonomous in our efforts toward climate change. Helping in the way that suits us. If we are privileged enough to own a garden it comes with a responsibility to give back to the land. If you decide to act on climate change, act in your own backyard.

Have you heard about Gizzy’s first ever ESCAPE ROOM? It opened to the public during Youth Week this Saturday 7th May 2022. If you’ve somehow missed the escape room hype, an escape room is a themed room that you are ‘locked into’ and you have one hour to solve a series of clues and ‘escape’. Challenging, team building fun for you and your whānau, friends, colleagues and neighbors. Next Gen Escapes is bringing some well needed joy and entertainment to our community while also supporting rangatahi leaders and entrepreneurs. Profits from the escape room mean that the youth pop up shop (in the front half of the building) is rent-free for rangatahi to build their marketing, product design, customer service, budgeting and financial skills. Tāiki e Next Gen was established at the beginning of 2021. The rōpū includes rangatahi responsible for organizing night markets, gigs, murals, podcasts, a youth zine, a trip to Wellington’s Festival for the Future, an online night market, an online platform (like Fiverr for youth), pātaka kai (reducing hunger), Pikup (reducing food waste), as well as supporting over 30 independent youth run enterprises. When rangatahi were asked back in April last year what should be done with the empty shop in Treble Court, the idea of an escape room was put forth and overwhelmingly supported. Rolling their sleeves up, the wider Tāiki e! Impact House whānau embarked on a journey with rangatahi to see the initiative come to life. And it’s been a big one. Cain Kerehoma, of Tāiki e! says “this is for community by community. Too often rangatahi development is siloed in a way that doesn’t allow us to truly recognise the mana and value that rangatahi bring to our community. To me, the escape room stands as a testament to what we can achieve when we work with youth in empowering and meaningful ways.” Follow @nextgenescapes on social media and @taikienextgen to watch their journey unfold. You can book a session in the Escape Room via nextgenescapes.com

The last four books I have read have come from the free library around the corner from my place. Three quarters of that small sample size have been brilliant and somehow just what I needed at the time. My favourite time to visit our neighbourhood library is around dusk. I round up the dog, the kids and often some wheels. We set off down the road and if I’m lucky one of the kids will hold my hand and try to match my steps, and we’ll have the kind of chat that usually only happens at bedtime when they're trying to delay the inevitable; lights out. Personally, nothing beats a meander along an autumnal dusk here in Tūranganui-a-Kiwa. The neighbourhood we live in loses the sun earlier than most, but our local free library is on top of a hill, which means we get to see the sun setting over the Wharerata ranges; all those purpling layers of shade and haze and loveliness. The prospect of getting something free serves as a pretty good motivation for getting the kids to the top of a hill. The scavenging instinct is strong in our whānau. Our local free library has a healthy mix of contemporary literature, kids’ books and books that look as if they would have had very fulfilling lives on coffee tables in the nineties before retiring to the little free library on the hill. As you would expect, there is also a fine selection of Mills n Boons, fiction by Maeve Binchy and Co. and magazines to flick through. We return most of the books after we’ve had a jam, along with a couple from our bookcase because it’s always an unruly chaos, and because little libraries only really work if you're putting in as well as taking out. I must admit to keeping one excellent Anne Patchett number however, currently doing the rounds amongst my friends, because it's such a perfect antidote to these times. I must also admit to having sacrificed at least one of our finds to a collage session with the kids. On our trips to the library, we stop to talk to neighbours also out enjoying the last of the day’s sun, inspect the native plantings put in by council to see how they’re faring and look about for whatever weird and wonderful fungi happens to be blooming at the time. We graze on the fruit forest that Carol Ford pulled all the kids from along the road into planting a few years back and call in at the Sharing Shelf some of our neighbours built back in the first lockdown. The kids fill their pockets with whatever’s going. Our little local library is just another one of those small and simple things that connects us to our neighbourhood; both the people we share space with and the land that we live on. Just this week I was delighted to find another beaut of a little library on Maclean Street. There is also one on Murphy Road in Wainui and one on Barkers Hill. If you know of any others please let us know in the comments below! Thanks Wendy Baxter, Chris Somerton and Hayley Trashe for setting up these small structures of goodness that are both conduits for community connection and the ability to access to the simple and sometimes extraordinary pleasure of a good book, for anyone to enjoy.

I started a line dancing club by accident. I’d been looking for an activity to keep me more active during winter and somehow it all just snowballed from there. There are certainly people who are better dancers than me, and many who know more about line dancing, but Rhythm n' Lines is more than a line dancing class - it’s a community and it’s that sense of belonging for our dancers that I hope I bring to the club. I've always maintained that Rhythm n Lines is not an exercise class, it's a club where everyone knows one another, supports one another and where people can come - even if it's by themselves - and feel a part of something. I get such a kick out of seeing people wearing our merchandise. When I see a Rhythm n' Lines cap or t-shirt I think, "How did all of this grow from a crazy idea and a Canva session?" In 2014 I was diagnosed with Prosopagnosia or Facial Blindness, not the most advantageous condition for running a line dancing club! Facial Blindness can be congenital or the result of an accident. I was born with it but it took 40 years to diagnose! Previous to that everyone, including myself, thought I had terrible eyesight and was a bit of a flake. I've hopped into the wrong cars, not recognised my children in the street and I’ve always had difficulty following TV shows and recognising people out of context. Before my diagnosis I was working in a new role where recognising people was crucial for building relationships, and I made some embarrassing mistakes. I had just lost my mother to brain cancer and my first thought was that I too had a brain tumour, which is probably why my GP and neurologist tested so thoroughly. The worst thing about this condition is that people invariably think you're a snob and are habitually ignoring them. It's easy for me to miss people, especially if they've had a change of hairstyle or I'm tired and not concentrating. I've learnt more about the condition over the years and recognise now that if I don't see people regularly they just drop out of my memory. I have to work hard to keep everyone in my head, and can become quite mentally fatigued at times. Not being able to recognise faces has made facilitating and maintaining relationships within the club more of a challenge, particularly when you layer mask wearing on top! I'm constantly making mental notes in my head of characteristics that will help me to remember people - actually everyone wearing the same t-shirts mightn't have been the best plan! I'm really grateful to the people that took a punt on our club when it was just a crazy idea. Darryl Monteith allowed us to dance at Smash Palace Bar Gisborne, which was a brilliant start for us. It's still one of our favourite places to dance because of the great atmosphere. A core group of line dancers have been involved in the club from the start, without whom we couldn’t run the club. Any kind of dancing is good for your well-being physically, but also for your mental health. It gives you energy and keeps your brain active, but the greatest benefit for me has been the people I have met and now consider to be friends. I'm thankful everyday that by some kind of cosmic mix of marketing, chance and facilitation we have an amazing group of people who regularly come together to dance. I often think of the Julie Murphy quote "The best of friends have nothing and everything in common all at once." Linedancing brings us together and provides that common ground. There are other great line dancing groups in Gisborne and I think a lot about what our point of difference is. Firstly I try to keep it Country and Western. Both the general feel and the music. This is not because of the culture and dubious history of rodeo, there's just a coolness and resilience I admire about those vintage cowgirls and cowboys. I also enjoy the irony that for a country and western themed line dancing club, we couldn't be further out east if we tried! The club has a broad appeal. Some people are there for the dancing, some for the music, the company and some for the boots! As we approach our first birthday, officially April 11th, I've been reflecting on our first year together. I think the club has given many people a positive focus in a challenging year. We've been able to keep dancing and growing despite lock downs, restrictions, and the difficulty of navigating the fraught realities of restrictions and vaccine mandates. It's been tough at times, but throughout it all the club has kept growing - from two Sunday sessions a month, to three weekly classes, fortnightly Matawai classes, and two Sunday sessions a month in Gisborne. We've danced at private parties, hens parties, school holiday programmes and a couple of successful fundraisers. People want to come together and dance, and we're doing our best to find ways to celebrate and encourage that. I'm so glad this club is turning one and I can't wait to see it grow out of its infancy - actually its adolescent phase might be pretty entertaining too! Story by Janine Hamilton-Kells Images by John Flatt

Every day we face a series of seemingly small decisions that can have a huge impact on our overall health. Do you have that second cup of coffee or skip it? Do you choose a hard workout or a walk on the beach? Amanda Roe is passionate about educating us on the importance of these moments, and guiding us to make the choices that help us feel best. Amanda, aka Functional Them on social media, is a naturopath eager to help us feel our best, particularly during challenging life transitions. Amanda grew up in the Southeast region of the United States, and her interest in science started at a very young age. By high school she was spending summers studying ecology in the Florida Keys at marine science camp, convinced she was going to be a marine biologist. And she’s always been a keen researcher. One early experiment studied the antimicrobial effects of aloe from her household plant. “I did a whole experiment swabbing everyone in the family’s skin, and then tried to grow microbes on coffee filters - none grew around the aloe gel!” That project won her the science fair, and established the curiosity and patience to spend many, many hours in research laboratories in the years to come. Near the end of her university study at James Madison University in Virginia, she faced a choice between two different tracks for graduate study, one for ecology and research, and one for medicine. At the time she was deep in a study of water scorpion penises, of all things. She loved the research process, but thought, “do I want to do this forever?” Medicine had always been a possibility, especially after Amanda became “completely obsessed” with Anatomy courses in college. She took all the required pre-med coursework, but was often turned off by the cutthroat nature of the medical track, until a personal experience introduced her to naturopathic medicine. In her senior year of college, she contracted glandular fever. She went to the clinic where she was told “go home, it’ll take 6 weeks to feel better and there’s nothing you can do.” Determined to not lose so much time from a crucial academic year, Amanda plunged into researching how she could speed her recovery, which led her to naturopathic medicine. With a regimen that included vitamins C and A, echinacea, fever and rest, she recovered in two weeks instead of six. Energised by her discovery, she did a tour of naturopathic medical programmes as soon as she felt well enough and following her college graduation, enrolled at the renowned National College of Natural Medicine in Portland, Oregon. She chose a track specific to midwifery, to which she felt a strong, inexplicable pull. “I didn’t have any particular experience with midwifery, I hadn’t been through childbirth myself yet. It was just something that wouldn't let me go and I couldn’t not do it. It was more a spiritual thing that became very real.” Just as Amanda was finishing her medical training, she met her husband Mike, a born and bred Gizzy guy, soon after he had moved to Portland for a nursing job. After a short stint away in Hawaii, Amanda started a Family Medicine and Midwifery practice with a colleague from school, there in Portland. Amanda’s practice wasn’t just limited to women’s health however. “The joke is, it’s a practice builder, because you start with one patient and then get two. But I would very often get the whole family.” Patients have always appreciated her comprehensive approach. Amanda explains, “Just like in my research background, you might have a specific goal, but you have to think in a holistic 360-degree way. I always think that way, to see the big picture and not just the problem in front of me.” That’s an important distinction between traditional medicine and the functional approach Amanda takes. Rather than just treating a particular symptom, her approach is more encompassing and integrative. “My expertise is in understanding how systems talk to each other all day long, not just discrete cardiology, endocrinology, etc.” In 2020, Amanda and Mike decided to make the move to Gisborne, along with their kids Iris and Harry. Many factors spurred the move, including a desire for a different quality of life and wanting to be closer to Mike’s mum. Professionally, Amanda felt increasingly limited in how she could practice medicine in the States, faced with high malpractice insurance and tax costs and lower reimbursements. “Mike never pressured me to move back, but for both of us it just went from “when we retire” to “let’s go.” She describes her initial impression of life here as magical, “I can’t even believe how beautiful it is here.” They’ve felt very welcomed, with many people eager to help make connections. One of those connections led her to Dr. Leigh Willoughby, another local doctor passionate about functional medicine. Leigh had a room available in her clinic, Functional Again on Ormond Road, and Amanda now sees patients out of that space, working as her own entity. One challenge she is looking to overcome is that “people don’t get that I’m a doctor. I’m medically trained in North America, but there’s no equivalent medical degree in New Zealand yet.” Working with Amanda means taking a look not only at problems, but also at goals. The first visit is 90 minutes long, to give full attention to all concerns. Before that first visit, Amanda has already reviewed all the patient history and labs and has a good handle on what to suggest for homework. Seeing Amanda and a GP are not mutually exclusive, and in fact they complement each other quite well, “I like to partner with GP’s so it’s a team effort”. For Amanda, a big upside of working with her is that she is “never at a loss of what to try next.” She appreciates the ability to really spend time with patients, but most opt for brief regular check-ins, either monthly for 30 minutes or fortnightly for 15 minutes. At this point in her career, Amanda describes her niche as women’s health and hormone regulation and balance. This includes supporting women trying to get pregnant, guiding women through pregnancy, and helping to address the hormonal changes experienced in puberty and perimenopause. An avid trail runner herself, Amanda particularly enjoys working with athletes, advising how hormones impact performance throughout a women’s cycle. She was really able to hone that aspect of her practice in Portland, which is home to both the Nike and Adidas headquarters, and a huge athlete base. To reach more of our community, Amanda holds lecture series on evenings and weekends. So far, perimenopause is the hottest topic. It’s the transition time all women go through on the way to menopause, and brings with it all kinds of changes and struggles such as weight gain, fatigue, sleep difficulties, and mood swings. “People want to know what in the world is going on. It becomes easier when you’re not in the dark, and know you’re not alone.” Her favourite new venue for these talks is at private parties. “Friends get together and I do a teaching session over wine and cocktails. It’s a fun, uninhibited environment for women to ask questions and share what they’re going through.” Outside of work, you may recognise Amanda from the beach, where she’ll be working out, swimming (in togs, year-round!) or collecting rubbish. Initially her science brain was drawn to sort and classify the rubbish she picked up as data collection but since then, she has been inspired to create with it and has become drawn to it as a relaxing thing to do. She talks about the strong link between creative process and wellness “Our nervous system is not wired for so much input all the time. We need spaces where we don’t have to be productive, and there’s less input from the outside world.” Amanda plans to sell prints with proceeds going to non-profits that support women’s empowerment education and beach cleanups. Health struggles can be overwhelming, and Amanda’s central aim is to take away the feeling of helplessness. “When people understand what’s happening, they make better choices, every day. When you make supportive decisions, you feel better, and that better quality of life makes it easy to choose well.” In an age of information overload, having a relationship with a local expert that you trust is an opportunity to treasure. www.roe.co.nz or find Amanda on Instagram @functional_them or Facebook Functional TTo learn more head to www.roe.co.nz or find Amanda on Instagram @functional_them or Facebook 2Functional Themwww.roe.co.nz or find Amanda on Instagram @functional_them or Facebook @Functional Them By Victoria Williams

The lack of diversity in the technology workforce is dismal in Aotearoa, and the Tairāwhiti is no different - only 1.9% of our technology workforce is Māori. With New Zealand’s tech sector one of the country’s biggest earners, contributing $12.7 billion to the economy in 2019 and predicted to be worth $16b by 2030, this is a worrying statistic. If you have come across the passionate and enthusiastic team at Tōnui Collab, you will know that they are determined to disrupt this trend and are working to create opportunities for rangatahi Māori in Tairāwhiti to thrive in the sector. Shanon O'Connor, Director of Tōnui Collab worked in Web Development and Information Systems in the early 2000s and talks about her sense of imposter syndrome during her tertiary study and also when entering the workforce. “There were not a lot of Māori in these spaces, I felt like I didn’t belong, that maybe this wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing”. After returning to the Tairāwhiti to retrain as a teacher, Shanon taught at local primary school Te Wharau for a few years before joining The Mind Lab - an Auckland-led enterprise that created digital learning workshops for children and a post-graduate programme for teachers across the country. In 2018 however The Mind Lab started closing their youth-focused labs across the country. This was the impetus for Shanon to take on the challenge of creating an innovative bilingual learning space for rangatahi to explore not only digital tools but the diversity of STEMM (Science Technology Engineering Maths and Mātauranga) locally. In 2019 Tōnui Collab was established and a stellar line up of trustees appointed, with Glenis Philip Barbara, Edwina Ashwell, Isaac Hughes, and Alex Hawea working alongside Rena Kohere as Chair. “We started to experiment with how to create digital learning experiences that celebrated and amplified local pūrākau. The response from students and teachers was positive - students demonstrated really rich understanding of the pūrākau and teachers were able to see how motivated their students were to share their learning using digital tools.” At the heart of Tōnui Collab is the recognition that more than 50% of our population is Māori. Pūrākau now sit front and centre to the Tōnui approach, storytelling being “so intrinsic to being Māori” and the perfect way to bring not only local context but also a wealth of knowledge, matauranga Māori, into STEMM. Kiri Wilson, Tōnui Collab EdTech says, “Learning the language of code and algorithm is familiar, we have code and algorithm within our whare tipuna..whakairo, tukutuku and kõwhaiwhai. While Digital Technologies can be intimidating this is a great place to explore and discover another strategy to retell our stories and ignite the best learning experience.” Kiri shares her aspiration to have “the Reo for Digital Technologies become more fluent. Tauira will be confident in their learnings and comfortable to share with their taina.” The team have worked with Iwi groups to envision how different pūrākau could inform the learning taking place in the lab. Over the past two years thousands of kids have learnt the stories of this place and used this new knowledge to develop computer games, map the path of Paikea and his arrival in Aotearoa, and design interactive digital artworks. Shanon says they have received generous support and guidance from Albie Gibson and his team at TROTAK and Te Manuhuia Paenga and her team at the Museum, “there is a wonderful community of educators in the Tairāwhiti providing our schools and kura with access to unique and rich learning opportunities”, expanding that, “STEMM learning is also a powerful medium for developing “resilience, collaborative learning and problem solving”. Young people start making decisions about what they want to do in their lives at primary school, and from Year 9 they start making course selections. If they haven’t had exposure to STEMM, or the diversity of career opportunities available early on, they just aren’t going to feature in their options. Shanon is certain that this kind of exposure needs to happen early on and this she sees as the role of Tōnui in our community. The kind of learning that goes on at Tōnui is problem-focused, which means that ‘failure’ happens as a matter of course - something to be celebrated as students learn to work and grow through them via a reflection process. This kind of learning creates critical and reflective thinkers, and forward planners. When we’re younger we’re more confident with taking risks but, as we get older we don’t want to be caught out not knowing stuff! Tōnui also works on making the career opportunities that await down the track visible and relatable for both students and their whānau, as well as their teachers. It’s all about shifting the opportunities to where they are most needed. Mac Burgess, Tōnui Collab EdTech says he loves seeing “the genuine excitement from the tamariki as we see them experience and do things they've never done before. I love seeing our tamariki have a go at, and thrive at things they've never dreamed would be an avenue for education. I also love that we bring big world tech and ideas down to accessible and bite sized workshops to inspire our tamariki with what they can make the world into, in years to come.” Which is one of the reasons why Tōnui Collab has opted to respond as they have, to the loss of their portside premises in 2021. A major reason behind their decision to adopt a mobile strategy is to improve the accessibility of their services. Transport and travel time have been identified as significant barriers to the learning opportunities they offer, especially for whānau and kura up the coast. The requirement of Covid passports from parent helpers has further exacerbated the challenges schools face when heading out on excursions - ‘going mobile’ is a particularly timely move for Tōnui in 2022. The team are particularly excited about the opportunity to take their work into new spaces - schools, kura, marae and other community spaces. They are also enthusiastic about changing the way they teach - day-long and multi-day Wānanga style sessions provide more time to introduce new concepts, embed Mātauranga, allow for exploration and the cycle of reflection and new learnings. As of February 2022, the Tōnui Collab team will be available to schools, kura, Marae and other community groups to bring STEMM learning to the young people of the Tairāwhiti. The main thing they will require is space. Theirs is an exploration-based practice, so alongside laptops, their van will also be loaded up with hula hoops, balls, bits of paper and pencils. Learning about how computers work is just as likely to involve an obstacle course as it is a laptop! As we were talking, Shanon reflected on how the measurement of impact has been such an enduring part of their journey. She talked about the immediate, frequent and easily perceptible impacts - the excitement on a young person’s face, and reports from whānau or teachers about a child that has been seemingly ‘awakened’ by their Tōnui experience. Shanon has also been able to witness the development of some kids who have been going to The Mind Lab and Tōnui over the course of four or five years. In just two years they have worked with over 20,000 young people - some of these are obviously kids who have liked what they are doing and have kept coming back. Moana Kerr, Tōnui Collab Administrator says, “It is our hope that at least another 20,000 of our tamariki will have the opportunity to be awakened by Tōnui Collab over the next two years, no matter where they are in the motu.” We’re inspired by this team of educators who continue to rise to the challenges they face, with the needs of our community and our young people front and centre of everything they do. They are an indispensible force here in the Tairāwhiti to ensure that science, technology and engineering are not only accessible and fun for our young people, but are present as a viable and achievable career for them in the future. * If you’re interested in engaging the Tōnui team this year, check them out at https://www.instagram.com/tonuicollab/ or https://www.facebook.com/TonuiCollab/

When Tairāwhiti Adventure Trust’s inaugural AGM began with the clink of a local brew and the self-proclamation of a “rag-tag bunch of misfits”, I knew I wasn’t in your usual corporate boardroom. And herein lies part of what makes the Tairāwhiti Adventure Trust something different and a massive force of action - in all facets of the word. Rewind to just over a year ago when the now-members were a disparate group of individuals, albeit passionate sporting individuals, with national and international successes to their names, attending a meeting that would catalyse the Tairāwhiti Adventure Trust’s formation. A facilities workshop was held to assess our region’s sporting facilities with a view to build a business case for investment. It was a joint venture between Sport Gisborne Tairāwhiti, Trust Tairāwhiti and the Gisborne District Council. A consulting firm from Wellington was brought in to frame a business case and it soon became apparent to some of the people at the meeting that there was this “massive hole in it. When we stood up and asked about recreation, we were told ‘there is no recreation within scope’” and that...was seemingly that. The discussions that followed that meeting, with local skaters, surfers, adventurers and “anyone that didn't have a voice” due to lack of club backing, were the impetus for forming the Tairāwhiti Adventure Trust. The Trust is a not for profit organisation that lobbies for action, for adventure sporting groups and individuals, to secure funding for facilities and provide pathways for local tamariki and rangatahi wanting more healthy and positive things to do here in the Tairāwhiti. The Trust see themselves as catering to sports that the whole family can enjoy, and providing help to our youth who want to go onto the national or world stage in their chosen, and often these days, Olympic recognised sports. The Trust forms a club voice for sports without clubs “we add structure to the unstructured; we are breaking the mould of traditional representation”. Fast forward to the present day and the Trust’s first project, the creation of what will soon be one of Aotearoa’s best and world class Skateparks is well underway, starting with the ‘big bowl’. Concrete is in the ground, with old school pool-style lines, glass-smooth transitions and the highest copings I’ve seen atop concrete waves, ever. “There’s nothing like this in New Zealand.. nothing” And that actually, is that. The park has been designed by Rich Landscapes with and by its users, utilising pen on paper expression sessions with local kids, ‘feet on the street’ talk and networking through social media with local skate groups. Liaison is ongoing, “I’m on like heaps of group chats, we’re in continual dialogue with them, it’s not a tick-box” and the kaupapa of the Trust is about “having it owned and operated by the user group, to empower the user group and community, to facilitate and look after that asset because they’re invested in it”. The ‘first cab off the rank’ is how the Tairāwhiti Adventure Trust describes the model used by Councils around the country when providing community facilities, and the ‘recipe skateparks’ that exist nationwide are but one example of this model. Instead the Trust has chosen to precipitate a world class facility to attract talent but even more importantly, to support the talent that’s already here. It’s a fairly big undertaking for the Trust’s ‘first cab off the rank’...Peering over the top of the new park’s copings I’m taken back to a time when Steve Caballero pulled the first ‘cab’ off the ramp exactly 40 years ago, and though it won't be me attempting it, I’m sure one will be stomped here at some stage soon. If you have checked out the photos of the park thus far and are feeling a tad nervous as to the future integrity of your bone structure, fear not, because as the build progresses there will be something usable for anyone willing to self propel their wheels. Watch out too for Aotearoa’s best skaters as they make their way to the country’s latest park - an opportunity for us locals to watch those steep and deep bowls get ripped to proverbial pieces. Enough to achieve in a year in which the rest of the world stood still? Nope. The Trust’s new pump track build planned for March 2022 is something I’m personally psyched about and gauging by the way the Tairawhiti Adventure Trust have rolled so far, this is very much going to happen! So limber up your old knees and prepare to race your kids around a concrete hydroslide. As all adults (or oversized kids in some of our cases) know, where there are fun facilities of this magnitude (Read $3.2 Million in funding secured from Trust Tairawhiti), there needs to be a business model to make it happen. Like a lot of what they do, the Trust’s business strategy is anything but traditional. Sitting in their AGM it was glaringly apparent that this group is not territorial over the mahi they do, whether it’s their processes, feasibility studies or planning, even as it’s done without any profit to the members, and on top of their day jobs and businesses of their own. The Trust has shared the skatepark build documents and project pathways with Wellington and Tauranga City Councils and alongside their own major projects they have also helped Mahimahi Bowlriders and Surely Skate with process support and to secure funding, and are helping community groups in Mahia and Ruatoria with skate and bike projects. Next on the to-do list for this group of do-ers is the facilitation of a local competitive climbing wall build, so watch this space and get your fingers flexing. The Trust says that being outside local government has enabled them to push ahead faster on projects as “there’s less red tape”, although they admit with a laugh that “there is still a lot of red tape”. As with anything worth doing in the world, there have been challenges along the way. When you have real people acting as the guarantor on monthly build invoices that could form solid house deposits (yes even in this climate) there have been plenty of make or break moments for the group. But these are adventure racers that have been in their share of headwind kayak stages, so they have just dug their paddle in, pivoted hips and put pressure where it's needed to keep the boat moving forward. Their motto seems to be simple: “You just get __it done”. Though it is us that should be thanking them, the Tairāwhiti Adventure Trust has a lot of thanks for others that have made this all possible, notably Trust Tairāwhiti, Sport Gisborne Tairāwhiti and Currie Construction who have provided huge support for the skatepark build and the pump track coming next year. So Gizzy… other than getting out and amongst the amazing facilities coming your way, if you’re keen to get behind the Tairāwhiti Adventure Trust, give them a holler, look them up on their website, Facebook page or give them a shout out when you see them out and about. Time, skills and financial support are always appreciated, especially if you too subscribe to the motto of just “Get __it done”.