Ko Wai Au? Who am I (Uni Assignment)
“Who am I?” – for me there are a few answers to this question. I was brought up straddling more than one culture and more than one place feels like few places and peoples feel like home. From the ‘A.D.D.R.E.S.S.I.N.G.’ framework I would like to include ‘Age’, ‘Religion’, ‘Ethnicity’, ‘Nationality’ and Gender’
I’ll address the elephant in the room first – my age. I’m 43 years old, and I know that is ‘mature’ or ‘old’ around here, but it is actually recent territory to me to be the old one. I was well established as the youngest in my family until I was 14, and my older sister wore 99% of all responsibility, pressure or blame. I felt a lot less was expected of me and I was allowed to be playful and creative. I got pregnant at 18 so was always been referred to as a young mum. So whilst I feel young, I’m strongly aware that I am ageing which is a tension I navigate daily.
My mother is from a small group of islands called Kiribati. She only spoke Kiribati to us in early childhood, we lived in a Kiribati community and learning he songs, dances and language shaped me significantly. Kiribati feels like my first, primal language, though I prefer English nowdays.
My father is British. We had many long holidays in the UK with my grandparents and cousins etc. Dad was a solo dad to us since I was 8 years old, and the physically and emotionally ‘safe’ parent. We were and still are very close - so I feel very connected to my English side.
I was born in the Solomon Islands, and we lived there for two periods in my childhood – my favourite primary school years were there and we spoke Pidjin English fluently with our neighbours so I also have an affiliation and affection for the Solomon Islands (though it is not my ethnicity)
I’ve mostly lived in New Zealand. My sister and I as coloured people were a minority in our East Auckland primary school, we got called ‘nigger’, I was told to ‘get my dirty nigger-hands off’ things. When we moved back to New Zealand permanently and I was nearly 10, I knew I needed to ‘blend in’ with white-middle-class-Kiwis quickly, though I never felt like them.
So when I think “home” as a child, I felt at home on the Isle of Wight, listening to Mozart, perched on an armchair as my grandpa read us Alice Through the Looking Glass. I felt equally at home drawing water from a well, cooking with an open fire or eating ten tabena or te ika on the floor of a stick hut in Kiribati. I felt at home swimming in a river in Guadalcanal, Solomon Islands. But overall, I have come to feel most comfortable in New Zealand, in Auckland, and especially among my half-Kiribati cousins.
I am female, I identify with and enjoy being feminine, and I am of heterosexual orientation. I grew up under traditional gender roles; my mother didn’t work more than part-time outside the home, and ‘the buck stopped’ with my father to provide financially. My husband had a similar experience in his family of origin and we have more or less defaulted to the same model, which we’re comfortable with.
Becoming a Christian in my late teens I know changed the trajectory of my life - in more ways than I can express here. From an outward standpoint I don’t believe my boyfriend and I would’ve gotten married, and had three more children after that. Inwardly, I have been transformed bit by bit, to where in many ways I don’t recognise who I was before. I don’t use the word ‘religion’, rather, ‘relationship’ ; my relationship with my God influencing and guiding my relationships with myself and with others. I believe (and hope) that the love experience that changed my life is more and more evident in my motives, creativity and expression as my relationship with God deepens.
My boyfriend (now husband) were teenage parents with a low income and very little support, so for a time we were of a low-socio economic status. We both grew up in middle class families thereabouts and we have worked our way back up to that, and in some ways have outrun our parents S/E status in the lifestyle we now offer our children. We feel of a mixed heritage of stick huts & hand washing of clothes, educated and entrepreneurial, hardworking, pioneering and post-war roots; being conservative and thrifty is in our DNA. So though we are relatively wealthy, I feel my socio-economic history and status has blurred lines, which I’m happy with.
Through my father’s British nationality and influence on me I have access to white privilege, and specifically I want to talk about the white privilege I make use of and have identified in myself purely as a result of doing this assignment.
I’ve now know that many years ago I subconsciously become aware of a need to have ‘white mannerisms’, & presentation but particularly: use of the English language in order to be ‘visible’ in certain settings. I noticed as a child that my father was shown preference firstly by his white skin, followed very closely by his educated command of the English language, and his ‘Queen’s-English’-accent.
I found that though I had a Kiwi accent, if I could emulate his articulation, whether written or spoken, more doors would open and I could ‘get what I needed’ by demonstrating I have a ‘white-enough-slash-good-enough’ style. I know I am seen outwardly as a Woman of Colour and have noticed that if I am dressed in casual baggy clothing, haven’t done my hair or eye-liner, and I’m not with my white husband, I feel I significantly lose white privilege and am sometimes not seen, served, or validated as easily.
This has manifested in the way that I prefer to write an email than go in face to face as it gives me control to formulate my expression and feel heard. Interestingly I have found that if I have to make a phone call to a call centre etc, I communicate with more confidence and receive better service if I get dressed well first (for a phone-call!!).
Like most people in our Social Work cohort, I was drawn to this field by a motivation to “make a difference”, in my case, due to my personal experience. I have lived through seasons of dysfunction, abuse, brokenness, trauma, pain, violence and disruptive change in my life, particularly in my childhood and young adulthood. I have felt powerless, helpless and hopeless, have seen injustice and unfairness and have experienced (though mild) racist and sexist hostility.
I also, when I became of age, proactively sought help, counselling and therapy available to me, and I generally trust the resources and systems out there and hold a belief that everyone, particularly in Aotearoa NZ, has SOME level of opportunity to grow and develop.
I understand that there are issues to be aware of around this motivation which others will have noted from the Chenoweth/McAuliffe reading. Though it can appear noble to want to make a difference, to ‘pursue a rewarding career’, there can be a risk that we ignorantly expect those clients we come into contact with to share the same views and drive to improve their lives.
Subsequently, if they don’t follow our subconscious pattern or plan, we could potentially be left disillusioned regarding our purpose. Wanting and expecting to control the outcome under the guise of Social Work being a ‘rewarding’ job could easily become purely self-gratifying.
It’s important for Social Workers and students to process past trauma and emotional injuries in order to have the clearest filter possible to take on social work without wrong attitudes and beliefs influencing our actions. I’m not suggesting anyone can have it 100% ‘all together’, but we need high self-awareness to do this training and role.
To conclude: I would say to others with parallels to my history - to be encouraged - we can either say “I belong nowhere” OR: “I belong EVERYWHERE!” We can either say “I’ve suffered adversity”, OR “I have conquered and am overcoming adversity” We can either be in a vulnerable position and potentially operate out of selfish and tunnel-visioned motives, OR we can engage in proactive self-help and healing work, and be in potentially a VERY strong position to empathise and make a difference that will impact generations to come.
Vicki Ryan
