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Jul. 19th, 2006 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
labellementeuseSomewhere, it's international blog against racism week. I do not think I am qualified, both literally and personally, to talk about the race relations problems in my country with sincerity and with good judgement. Instead, I'm going to post a series of poems from Glenn Colquhoun's book The Art of Walking Upright. Colquhoun is a Pakeha man who took a year off from training to be a doctor to live in Te Tii in the Bay of Islands, in a small Maori town. As far as I'm concerned, these poems are required reading for anyone living in this country; they are beautiful in both form and content. Some of these I have posted here before, but I think they're worth reading twice. I'm also going to leave them outside a cut; but if this bothers you, let me know.
Race Relations
My great great grandfather was from Luss.
This is a village on the shores of Loch Lomond.
My parents hang his coat of arms on their wall.
My great great grandmother was a Murray
She lived in Glasgow, by the Clyde.
I don't know if their families fought
but I wouldn't be surprised.
Some Murrays live in Whangape.
I guess we are related
except that I am Pakeha
and they are part Te Rarawa.
Somewhere along the line
I have managed to colonise myself.
It is not the first time this has happened.
My grandmother's grandfather is from England.
This has been a problem for the Scots.
I can't forget what I did to myself at Culloden.
Or what Edward Longshanks
did to William Wallace in Braveheart.
I still hate the bastard which of course I am.
And if that's not bad enough
my grandmother's grandmother is German.
And so is my grandmother's mum.
One half of me has lost a war the other half has won.
Even more complicated is the fact
that my mother's father's family are Jacobs
which if I'm not mistaken makes us Jewish,
who of course won't speak to the Germans.
No-one mentions they were from Tasmania.
Sometimes I don't know how to live with myself.
I am a civil war.
The australians fight the english
and keep the scottish happy.
The scottish fight the english
and then they fight themselves.
The english are offended
and won't speak to the germans.
This annoys the germans
who of course annoy the jews.
The pakeha think they own the place.
The maori want us all to go home.
I would if I knew where that was.
Sometimes it seems I'll never win.
Sometimes I never lose.
A problem while translating the Treaty of Waitangi
A pakeha version: ................... A maori version:
THE FIRST ARTICLE ................... THE FIRST ARTICLE
I am the boss. ..................... You are the boss.
THE SECOND ARTICLE ........................ THE SECOND ARTICLE
You are the boss. ..................... I am the boss.
THE THIRD ARTICLE ........................ THE THIRD ARTICLE
Now that's sorted out ..................... How about those muskets?
put some clothes on,
.. pay your rates,
... get a job
and find a lawyer.
(that one's behind a cut because of formatting issues but it's really short so do have a look.)
Race Relations
My great great grandfather was from Luss.
This is a village on the shores of Loch Lomond.
My parents hang his coat of arms on their wall.
My great great grandmother was a Murray
She lived in Glasgow, by the Clyde.
I don't know if their families fought
but I wouldn't be surprised.
Some Murrays live in Whangape.
I guess we are related
except that I am Pakeha
and they are part Te Rarawa.
Somewhere along the line
I have managed to colonise myself.
It is not the first time this has happened.
My grandmother's grandfather is from England.
This has been a problem for the Scots.
I can't forget what I did to myself at Culloden.
Or what Edward Longshanks
did to William Wallace in Braveheart.
I still hate the bastard which of course I am.
And if that's not bad enough
my grandmother's grandmother is German.
And so is my grandmother's mum.
One half of me has lost a war the other half has won.
Even more complicated is the fact
that my mother's father's family are Jacobs
which if I'm not mistaken makes us Jewish,
who of course won't speak to the Germans.
No-one mentions they were from Tasmania.
Sometimes I don't know how to live with myself.
I am a civil war.
The australians fight the english
and keep the scottish happy.
The scottish fight the english
and then they fight themselves.
The english are offended
and won't speak to the germans.
This annoys the germans
who of course annoy the jews.
The pakeha think they own the place.
The maori want us all to go home.
I would if I knew where that was.
Sometimes it seems I'll never win.
Sometimes I never lose.
A problem while translating the Treaty of Waitangi
A pakeha version: ................... A maori version:
THE FIRST ARTICLE ................... THE FIRST ARTICLE
I am the boss. ..................... You are the boss.
THE SECOND ARTICLE ........................ THE SECOND ARTICLE
You are the boss. ..................... I am the boss.
THE THIRD ARTICLE ........................ THE THIRD ARTICLE
Now that's sorted out ..................... How about those muskets?
put some clothes on,
.. pay your rates,
... get a job
and find a lawyer.
(that one's behind a cut because of formatting issues but it's really short so do have a look.)
