The Gizzy skateboarding scene is getting plenty of buzz these days, after unveiling a brand new world class skatepark and playing host to the Skateboard Nationals earlier this month. But spend a little time at the skate park and what really stands out is the welcoming, inclusive community that gathers there. Roll through on a Sunday arvo and you’ll find women of all ages skating and cheering each other on. That’s thanks to the efforts of local group Surely Skate, who popped up on the scene a few years ago and have made an impressive impact on women’s skateboarding both locally and nationally. While many of the original team have since moved away from Gisborne, there was a reunion of sorts at the recent Skateboard Nationals. During a break in competition, Surely crew members Tessa, Sophee, Emilie, Morgan, Myah and Krystal graciously agreed to an impromptu interview, some of them coming straight in from competing in the Women’s street skate section. They were (and some still are) teens when they started skateboarding and building the community. Sisters Soph and Tessa admit they were first attracted to skate fashion, but didn’t want to just wear the clothes and be posers. They started longboarding and then started to go to the skate park, but rarely saw other girls there. “It was really intimidating to go there alone.” In the male-dominated environment, it was easy to spot a female skater, and any time they spotted another girl, they would invite her to skate with them and not have to skate alone. Myah remembers that she was longboarding to the beach when Soph and Tessa first intercepted her and encouraged her to skate with them. Surely, as in “surely come for a skate?” stuck as the group’s name after Morgan started spray painting it on her boards. Their gatherings evolved organically and started to take the form of regular Sunday sessions designed to encourage more girls to get on a board by minimising the fear and intimidation around learning to skate. Surely Skate is all about creating an inclusive, welcoming and safe environment for all. They are female identifying but make it clear that “anyone can come skate with us.” Sunday sessions are completely free and the girls volunteer the time they spend teaching and encouraging others. These sessions really are for everyone, from absolute beginners to skaters working on advanced tricks. On a typical Sunday, Surely skaters do everything from holding a girl’s hands while she practices dropping into a bowl, to giving tips on nailing a kickflip. “We are just pumped to see other girls. New little kids have been coming lately, that’s been epic.” Once they even had a nan join in. Every week is different, with some sessions seeing up to 20 people. “People come and go, and that’s skating - there are no rules. You don’t have to show up every week.” That sense of not knowing what to expect, and seeing progression in the community of skaters, keeps them motivated. “It’s so rewarding, it gives us purpose.” Myah adds, “knowing that parents and kids think of us as safe people is amazing. It’s special to feel their trust that if they fall we’ll catch them.” Also motivating is appreciating the impact they’ve made. Before Surely, the vibe was very different. In the early days Morgan braved the skatepark by herself a lot, and recalls “there was a lot of harassment, like ‘you shouldn’t be here.’ Now with our group, the dynamic has totally changed. We have this big community and we know everyone.“ That recognition came with dedication. “We persisted and showed that we’re not going anywhere.” The persistence inherent in skateboarding is a big part of what attracts the Surely crew to the sport. “When you see a skater land something you know they've been through some stuff. Every trick has taken hours and hours and hours of practice, and literal blood, sweat, and tears. Sometimes you feel so frustrated you want to throw your board across the park. But then you get the trick and it’s one of the best feelings in the world.” For new skaters, that can be a rude awakening. “We have to tell them, ‘you’re not going to get a trick on the first try. You’ve got to be patient and think positive.’ It’s a battle.” The girls note if it were easy, it would be far less rewarding, and that is something that translates to life far beyond the skate park. “Kids these days are used to getting things right away, and they’ll give up. These are life lessons, that you have to work for what you want, and nothing is going to get handed to you.” They giggle at this, “we sound so wise, lol.” And indeed they are. Beyond the weekly skate sessions, Soph took the lead on organizing a Surely Skate competition in Gisborne. The comp received massive support from all over the country, with skaters traveling from afar to take part, and it’s now an annual event. The last one had the highest turnout of women across in NZ history. Unsurprisingly it had a huge female turnout, but just like their Sunday sessions, the comp is meant for everyone and for all levels. One year they even had a 4 year-old girl compete by going around with her dad. The girls reckon that the event’s popularity is about the community, not the competition. Since Surely is not an official organisation, it’s been a challenge to get the funding needed for such a big event. The skaters emphasise that they owe much of their success to local support and sponsors, like Sequence Surf Shop, and describe owner Blair Stewart as “an absolute legend.” And they say they wouldn’t be here without the guidance of Shane Kingsbeer, the skate park project manager and member of Tairawhiti Adventure Trust. “Shane is our rock. He needs more credit!” From the time Shane met the girls at the skatepark, he has noticed the impact of their positivity. “The atmosphere is so different now. They’ve truly shifted the culture at the skate park in a positive direction and that’s a massive asset in our region.” Shane grew up skating here, and the scene then was far from welcoming. “You had to be able to do things when you showed up and until then you got grief.” Now he enjoys seeing the shift in mindset, “it’s all about support, not about level.” For co-founder Tessa, there’s still work to be done. “Women's skateboarding in New Zealand is definitely on the right trajectory. But it’s still male-dominated and our goal is to overcome that.” With such enthusiastic mentors available, why not give skateboarding a go? Join the weekly Surely Sunday sessions (from 1pm) and spread the word to keep the group growing. And if you’d like to offer financial support, they’re seeking funds to help host the next Surely Skate competition on January 21, 2023 and to enable them to travel to compete and run workshops outside of Gizzy and across Aotearoa. Go to givealittle.co.nz/cause/surely-shred-2023 to learn more and donate. Story by Victoria Williams

When I moved to Gisborne from America, some early helpful advice came at the grocery store. As I stood in the queue to pay for my shopping, which included lemons, the lovely woman working at the till said, “Oh hon, don’t you know anyone with a lemon tree? You should never have to buy lemons in Gizzy.” I’ve since found many a lemon tree, but still marvel at the sheer abundance of fruit in the region. One local team of rangatahi has figured out a way to ensure this abundance doesn’t go to waste, by picking excess fruit and sharing it with the community. They call themselves Pik Up, and this year alone they’ve picked over 4 tonnes of fruit, including apples, pears, plums, citrus and avocados. Kai has always brought people together, but Pik Up sees even greater opportunities to reduce waste and offer access to free, healthy food in a time when food costs are soaring. The project arose out of a brainstorming session in October 2021 at Tāiki E Next Generation, which hosts weekly gatherings to promote leadership and entrepreneurship in young people. The rangatahi zeroed in on the problem of food waste (nearly 3,000 tonnes every year!), in a community where many would appreciate the kai. They went straight to work to employ technology as a tool to address this paradox. The result is a platform that enables people in the community - people like you or me - to register any trees they have with excess fruit. The team then coordinates volunteers to pick fruit from those trees and share the bounty: a third of the fruit goes to the trees’ owner, a third is provided to the community, and a third stays with the volunteers who picked it. Fruit goes to the community via pātaka kai, many of which were built by Boys High students through the Young Enterprise Scheme. There are 11 pātaka kai strewn across town, and Pik Up continues to build more. The newest is on Dixon St, a heavy foot traffic area that connects Wainui Road to Kaiti. The team is led by Josh, who is managing the technology and administrative roles, although the office work is certainly not his favourite aspect of the job. Josh is passionate about growing food, increasing access to healthy kai, and reducing food waste. Within just a few months of that first brainstorming session, a platform had been built, they were picking by the height of summer, and they “haven’t looked back.”Josh emphasizes that Pik Up is “not a response to solve poverty,” but rather an opportunity “to share aroha.” It’s been a learning process and they’ve altered the model a bit as they’ve gone along, but the systems are getting dialed. Generally Josh takes students picking every Wednesday after school, and they fill the pātaka the following day. But picking days and times can vary, depending on weather and the landowner’s preference, and adults are welcome to come along too. The current team is made up of about 9 young people, ranging in age from 14-18 from a few different schools. Josh is originally from California, and lived many years in Hawaii and Indonesia before settling with his whānau in Gizzy. He is also a photographer, and alongside his wife, a graphic designer, operated a business helping local organisations in Indonesia tell their stories, which provided him a lot of social work experience. Josh enjoys hanging out with his young crew, and the feeling is mutual. Team member Manawa says “Josh is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, he’s cool as.” On a typical picking day, the crew meets at Tāiki E after school and loads their ladder, picking poles and bins into Josh’s car. After a stop for the team’s favourite potatoes at Perfect Roast, they’re off and running. Mokoia, another key member of the team, reckons he was “anti-social” before getting involved, and now really appreciates the social aspect of the work. They usually pick for up to two hours, and jobs vary in size, some as small as 10-15 kilos. They work steadily, but there is also space for fun. Manawa describes the discovery of mandarins remarkable for their resemblance to butt cheeks, and a contest ensued to see who could find the most. There are also tales of dances dodging grapefruits big enough to knock one unconscious, and Instagram-worthy feats of kicking an orange and then catching it in one go. But when it comes down to it, Manawa “just really enjoys picking and doing good stuff for the community.” As for Pik Up’s future, Josh sees a lot of potential, especially with the product they are left with from time to time. Josh envisions creating a new fruit product from that surplus, making juice or cocktail mixers. He also sees a need for offering more services to homeowners, who often don’t know how to prune their trees. “Many of these trees are old and valuable, and should be tended for future generations.” And he’d also like to be planting more fruit trees too. To help support their growth, the team would love to see more web traffic, and more people registering their trees. They’re always on the lookout for partners in other local community organisations who can help distribute food to those in need. And they would warmly welcome more picking hands, especially adults who can volunteer during school hours. There’s no pressure to come regularly or often, and no experience necessary. One thing Josh has observed during the hours of picking is the easy flow of conversation while they work. “When we’re juicing or cutting and de-seeding plums, the chats we have are great. And you see this in people around the world and throughout time, that processing food has always brought people together.” Why not trade out the conference room table for the trees, and have a hui while picking together? As you would expect, the community response has been super positive. “When we fill the pātaka and people walk by, we always get smiles, high fives, and good kōrero.” Manawa adds, “sometimes the pātaka by my aunty’s is pumping, heaps of people getting fruit, and that’s mean.” And since they’ve started picking, they’ve noticed other people filling the pātaka too, an indication that their mahi is as inspiring as it is practical. To learn more and get involved, go to www.PikUp.nz Story by Victoria Williams Photo Sarah Cleave

If anyone was in any doubt that Tūranganui-a-Kiwa, Gisborne is a hotbed of creative talent, they only need to do a count on the ever-growing number of artist-run spaces around town, to realise there must be something in the claim… Kõtuku Studios is the most recent addition, joining the enclave of community-enhancing enterprises at the southern end of Palmerston Road. Tucked in between Bakery 22 and Dancefit Studios on one side, and Tairāwhiti Environment Centre and Gizzy Kai Rescue on the other, Kōtuku Studios is the whare of the creative businesses of Merle Walker - Toi Biz and Jody Tupara - Toi Tupara. Originally the two friends were looking for some studio space to share, but happening upon this place with its white walls and polished concrete floors that lent itself so perfectly to a gallery, they realised that a gallery in which to share works of other local artists as well as their own, fit pretty seamlessly into their vision of a shared creative space. A couple of weeks of building, painting and enthusiastic support from friends and whānau later, Kōtuku Studios was born. Merle Walker has been creating art since she was a teenager, and successfully selling pieces through her early 30’s. Art was put on the backburner due to medical reasons, and while she took some time with her children in Australia before moving to Te Tairāwhiti with partner Tyna Keelan. Upon landing here, Merle enrolled in the Toi Paematua course with Johnny Moetara at @Te Wānanga o Aotearoa in 2021 and continues to study there as she builds her skills and knowledge around toi. Jody Tupara is perhaps best known for her large scale portraiture and digital prints. She also enjoys taking her art to clothing, and currently upcycles and paints denim jackets. She is grateful for the impetus and space Kōtuku Studios gives her to keep creating and to showcase her work as she juggles life with two beautiful children, full time work and studies. Opening its doors a couple of weeks ago, most of the works on the walls of Kōtuku Studios reflect the relationships that the two have been formed whilst making art alongside each other and their peers at the Wānanga. The pair are looking forward to continuing to work with other like minded people within our community, and sharing their space through workshops as well as exhibitions. Collaborations in the pipeline will see workshopping opportunities in various disciplines of toi from photography and printmaking to poetry writing, as they continue to develop their online print businesses and Merle, a series of team building workshops. The current exhibition has works by Jody Tupara, Kathleen Dawson, @Sally McIntosh, Amanda Rutherford, Beka Melville, Merle Walker, Johnny Moetara, Raegan Dawson, Makahuri Thatcher-Wharehinga, Skye Pomana and Sam & Kushla Hodge. Jody and Merle are committed to showing the work of local artists, and are happy to host solo exhibitions also. Their aim is to create a friendly and supportive environment for people to show their work. So if you’re looking for some artwork for your home or workplace, or as a gift, or are looking to exhibit some of your own work, head along for a visit! Merle and Jody are especially keen on meeting local potters! Gallery Open Hours Wednesdays, 12 - 5pm Thursday, 11:30am - 5pm Saturday, 10am - 2pm For more information or to view by appointment kotukustudios@gmail.com

What’s cooking these local elections? Māori representation, that’s what. Over the past few weeks I’ve had the pleasure of sitting down with a handful of the 39 candidates running in the upcoming local body elections. Speaking with Jordan Walker, Jody Toroa, Aubrey Ria, Ani Pahuru-Huriwai and Debbie Gregory, I’m feeling a lot of hope and excitement about the future of our local government here in the Tairāwhiti. As most of us will know, the last term resulted in some significant changes in the way our community will be represented around the Council table. In 2020 the Gisborne District Council resolved to establish Māori wards, so in next month’s local election, those of us who are enrolled in the Maori electoral roll will vote for 5 Māori ward councillors, and those on the General roll will vote in 8 general ward councillors. This series of conversations started with Jordan Walker, who was a regular contributor to Gizzy Local before they went full time with Te Tairāwhiti Arts Festival, took a lead role in a film, and embarked on their Masters thesis. I was interested in what had motivated Jordan, a youthful creative who’s always involved in exciting projects, to run for council at a time when councils all over the country are struggling to find people willing to put themselves forward for the job. Jordan spoke to me about wanting to be a voice for youth, for urban Māori, and to advocate for the arts. They talked eloquently about the role the arts plays in our wellbeing, particularly in the aftermath of the pandemic, and their understanding of policy as a tool in ensuring equitable access to opportunities and resources. Jordan has always been a ‘do-er’ whose compassionate nature is a precursor to action. In 2014 Jordan cycled the length of the country to raise awareness for youth suicide: they rode about 100 kilometres a day with panniers that were filled to overflowing and a bike that was far from flash. But Jordan understood that while the experience had been therapeutic for them, they would have to “dig deeper” to bring about any change. Jordan went on to work with a digital literacy programme across 14 low-decile schools in South Auckland but even then they were aware of the inherent accessibility issues and came to the conclusion that “policy is where it's at”. As we talked more, I realised I was hearing language I’d never heard before in the context of a political campaign, let alone our local council. Words such as ‘feeling safe’ in relation to hitting the campaign trail alongside other candidates, and even (blow me down with a feather), “the collective”. Was I hearing right? Were we still talking about local politics? Yes, Jordan assured me, “It feels as if we’re here for a common cause, it really feels as if things are changing with the inclusion of Māori wards”. It would have been easy to dismiss Jordan’s sentiment as ‘the naivety of youth’ but during the course of the conversations that followed, it became clear that yes indeed we are facing a beautiful shake up around that table at which so many decisions, that affect all of us in big ways and small, are made, with the introduction of Māori wards. Both Jody Toroa and Ani Pahuru-Huriwai were quick to give due to the incumbent council and mayor for bringing it through “Those are just the kind of courageous decisions that council should be making in the interests of what is fair, just and right. We need our people to be participating in democracy” said Ani. Incumbent Councillor Debbie Gregory talked about the series of decisions that led to the resolution to establish Maori wards in 2020. “With our population being 53% Maori, it was important to have equitable representation around the table where these important decisions about our place are being made. “That table has been dominated by wealthy white people since its inception. We need to bring the hearts and minds of Māori to our decision making table. That’s why I voted for Māori wards. I didn’t think there was any other way”. As Ani acknowledged, there’s undoubtedly a bit of fear in some quarters as to what a ‘shake up’ at the Council table is going to look like. But while fear is only natural when it comes to dealing with the unknown, I’d like to suggest that if the way in which our Māori candidates have approached this campaign so far is any indication, then we all have a lot to look forward to in this next term at Council. “The Collective” Ani described reaching out to her networks earlier in the year to see who was considering running in this election and explained “We established our tikanga way back then, said ‘let’s be Māori in our campaigning’. It’s been really brutal, ugly and lonely for candidates who have stood in the past. It’s really important how we treat each other in public, how we disagree in private, and how we look after each other’s mana”. But this collective approach isn’t just about the campaign. Aubrey Ria says “We’ve all agreed that within our group sits an amazing set of people, skills, knowledge and intelligence. We’ve agreed that whoever gets in, we will get in behind them to support them in whatever capacity we can [following the election]”. Many of the Māori candidates in this election have not only been “in comms” with each other, but have been carpooling to the candidates meetings, preparing together and supporting each other. Jordan described it as the feeling of being surrounded by aunties. “The way that the Māori candidates have worked this far is how we intend to carry on” said Ani. “It’s how we work anyway, with mutual respect, aroha for our people and looking after each other’s mana. You can have differing points of view and that’s okay, but you can articulate that without hurting another person physically or spiritually in the process of getting your view across. “I’m hoping that in that space there will be a lot more manaakitanga, and enhancing the mana of others, not just thinking about yourself in that space” Ani also explained that Māori running in the Māori ward have “put aside our iwi affiliations. We’re standing for the Māori ward. Iwi relationships are not a part of our role in council. Our tipuna have sung about Kotahitanga for decades. [Unity] is important but we haven’t got there because of egos and a system, which has got in the way”. Aubrey Ria agrees “It’s going to feel collaborative. There will be more interactive engagement, more focus on empowering communities, organisations, iwi, hapū, whānau, and people in our rural areas. Empowering each small community within our city as well as those outside of it to contribute to the decisions that affect them. It’s going to be better for the overall community, from Muriwai to Matawai to Te Araroa Hicks Bay”. Jody Toroa says she’s looking forward to collectively building some strong foundations around change, once there’s Māori representation at the table, rather than just a Māori advisor. “My push is to build the partnership framework, so that it actually reflects the partners around the table, and extends to the co-management, the whole delivery”. Jordan spoke too of the importance of relationship, “I’m all about relationships, There are so many nuances in peoples’ personalities and backgrounds, if there’s a strong group of us all there for a common purpose, a collective cause, that interpersonal skill, open mindedness, and the different perspectives that come as a young person will be useful”. Community I’m excited too about a greater community intelligence around the council table after this election. There’s a lot of talk about the wealth of community experience held by many of the Māori ward candidates. Many of them, like Ani, have led the Covid response in their communities, and have an intimate understanding of where their communities are at right now. “Our Māori ward candidates are really proactive members of the community. They’re at all the meetings, at the marae, at the housing forums” Aubrey Ria points out. Aubrey sees herself as following in the footsteps of her ancestors, who have worked towards better relationships and better communities here in Tūranga for generations. After leading a peaceful protest against the erection of the Endeavour replicas without consultation, she was also active in advocating for the establishment of the Māori wards. Aubrey running in this election was, for her community, the natural next step for her. Jody has worked for years on the Waingake Transformation Project, as well as sitting on various boards. Ani has played a significant role in the David and Goliath battles of preventing Petrobas from deep sea drilling on the East Coast and the proposals for a barging facility at Te Araroa. For Jordan, the wealth of community experience and iwi connections amongst the candidates to the Maori ward was one of the reasons they felt so strongly about running in the general ward rather than the Maori ward. “A lot of the Māori candidates standing in the Māori ward are strongly connected to Iwi and Hapū. They’re connected to those communities, and they knew what those communities need. A lot of them have been doing the work for a long time now”. Kaupapa There appears to be a lot of common ground in the kaupapa carried by many of our Māori ward candidates into this election, and the kind of intergenerational thinking that is so imperative in our times, is just a part and parcel of that kaupapa. There’s a big emphasis on wellbeing, but far from being just another token catch phrase, there’s a deep-seated understanding of the interconnectedness between the wellbeing of our land, water and that of our people. Aubrey Ria states it as “Oranga wai. Oranga whenua. Oranga tangata”. Ani sums it up as “Papatuanuku”. Jody is passionate about getting tutae out of the Bay, access to drinking water and our potential as a bio-region. Awareness of the far reaching effects of poverty in our region, the challenges of our rural communities, and the impact of decisions made now on their mokopuna were also common themes. “I believe at the time our tipuna made the best decisions with the information they had in front of them. They really did believe that forestry was going to save our people. They didn’t foresee what we face now. That’s what we’ve inherited. It’s all about our mokopuna that haven’t yet been born and the generational trauma we might cause as a result of bad decisions. We’re always trying to project two generations out - what do we want it to look like then?” explained Ani Pahuru-Huriwai. Right now though, getting people to vote is one of the most pressing matters for the candidates I spoke to. For many of our younger voters, the idea of getting something out of the letterbox, opening it and filling out a paper form is an utterly foreign process! Ani has pushed to get ballot boxes in the rural shops and is spending a lot of time talking to whānau about how to vote - don’t tick the boxes, number them! Aubrey agrees “I’ve been asked a lot, ‘Why should people vote for you?’ But I just want people to vote. There’s an amazing smorgasbord of representation available for you to choose from, so do some research, and get in and back the people you have common goals and aspirations with”. We can all do our own little bit to influence how well things go during this next term in Council. I for one am incredibly heartened by the influence that the inclusion of Māori seats around our decision making table is going to have on what has traditionally been an extremely ego-driven and oftentimes, dysfunctional space. After one term at that table, Debbie Gregory agrees, “It’s really important to listen to everyone around the table. To research your subjects before you go, listen and incorporate that into your decision making. That is why it's exciting that we’ll have the Māori ward councillors at the table - it feels very exciting for me, that collective approach”. “We will be bringing our culture to the table,” Jody Toroa explained. “Our tikanga, values, kawa. What is important, what is tika”. And as Ani Pahuru-Huriwai put it, “There are more things that we have in common than we do different. I think it’s going to be amazing. As tangata whenua our job is to look after people. We always have, since the arrival. That’s just who we are”. So let's go Tairāwhiti! Do your research. Read the mail out that’s going to turn up in your letterboxes from the Gisborne Herald this week about the different candidates, and make sure you give your votes to candidates who are committed to working together for better solutions for all of our people and whenua, both now and into the future.

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.