See you there! 💖

I had really hoped not to miss Friday Night Chats, but the move from Substack to Ghost has been really challenging. I’m so grateful to Josh Drummond for helping me move. He’s been an absolute lifesaver, and truly, I am so glad I hired him to help me. I could never have managed this on my own.

Let’s get a few questions out of the way, then we can move on to Friday Night Chats stuff!

Substack to Ghost 👻

Do I unsubscribe?

No! Please don’t! I get forced to refund you, which costs me a lot more money because there’s a refund ‘fine’ essentially. I can just move you. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING!

Do I need to resubscribe?

Nope! As before, you don’t have to do anything! If you are already a Substack subscriber, with a paid or unpaid subscription, your account will move over to Ghost automatically.

How will I log in to Ghost or make comments?

This is actually really seamless. When you go to make a comment or log in on Ghost, you’ll be able to use the exact same email you use to subscribe to me on Substack. You’ll get a one-time code sent to your email. And that’s it! Nothing else changes.

Where will I find you? How will I get Emily Writes Weekly?

You’ll get Emily Writes Weekly in your email inbox. There is a chance, if you use Gmail, your email from me will wind up in the “Promotions” tab. If so, drag it to the inbox. There’s a smaller chance it’ll land in your Spam folder - if so, make sure to list the email as “Not Spam.”

And you’ll be able to find me at https://emilywrites.co.nz, like the olden days when it was my blog! Full circle!

Do I need to download the Ghost app?

No, because there isn’t one! And honestly, it’s better that way - it makes it impossible for Ghost or anyone else to lock me in. It’s just me, sending you emails, and a website you can visit any time you like.

How do I manage my account with Ghost?

It’s easier and more transparent than with Substack. But I’ll update everyone on stuff like this once the move is complete; otherwise, I guarantee I will be dealing with an inbox full of very confused people.

Do I need to delete the Substack app? Should I stay on Substack?

I can’t answer that for you. It’s up to you if you hang out here or not. There’s still a lot of awesome writers here. You can and should continue to support them. Not everybody is able to move. It was a costly and stressful exercise for me, and I don’t begrudge anyone staying.

Will you be on Substack at all?

At this stage, I’m feeling pretty let down about some of the decisions made here. As I said, this move has been really stressful and expensive for me. It’s taken a week and counting. So, I feel like I don’t want to be here at all now because I’m annoyed. But, and it’s a big but - I love a lot of people who share their writing here, so I may still be around. I just won’t be posting here.

⬆️⬆️ Badges for Kids Rock 4 Palestine!! 🇵🇸 Cute eh?

Friday Night Chats!

So, everything has been stressful and rough this week. But I’m happy to say Eddie’s fundraiser this weekend is sold out! There is a raffle - You can buy tickets by donating to: Prosean Pictures Ltd 06-0574-0906928-00 REF: Koha.

Every cent goes to the Aotearoa 2 Gaza mutual aid fund.

Look at those prizes!!

• A brand new guitar and amp! Donated by the Garcia whānau.

• Beautiful wares from Palestine from Bayyāra and gorgeous mugs from Thea Ceramics

• And two freedom packs from Preserved Identity and Palestine Solidarity Network Aotearoa

Once you donate, fill out this form so I can put you in the draw.

You can also donate to Convoys of Good and Kiwi Trust for Palestinian Children via this link! I’ll be splitting the funds from the tickets and stalls to go to those two amazing charities. Any koha through the link will go to them too!

I’m so proud of Eddie and all of the kids - and I’m looking forward to sharing photos of them with you once it’s all over (and I’m on Ghost). Eddie has put so much mahi into this event. I just hope we have good weather.

What I’m watching:

I saw a beautiful documentary A New Kind of Wilderness on DocPlay and it is so so beautiful. An incredible film about family and love and grief and the hopes that we all have for our tamariki, but also for our partners. It’s heartbreaking and gorgeous. I really recommend it.

I really recommend getting DocPlay. We love watching docs as a family - I just watched I am Greta again with Hammy. He loves it. We all love Greta. I think he relates to her a lot with her autism. It’s a beautiful and heartbreaking doco. If you’re the parent of an ND child it will hit hard. I always tear up when her dad is trying to get her to have a banana.

@emilyjeanmonroegeorgia aquarium thank you for your service

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I am considering going to see Orwell 2+2=5 at the film festival. I’m a huge fan of 1984 and Animal Farm. I feel like Animal Farm changed my life, and I want to read it again

Raoul Peck, the acclaimed documentary chronicler of power in America, looks to George Orwell’s writing of 1984 as a prescient guide to our modern era of Trumpian rule and reality manipulation.

Raoul Peck, of course, made I Am Not Your Negro.

On a very different note lol - I have been watching The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it’s my new hate-watch. I mean, it is made for teenagers, but my GOD, not one person makes a good decision in this film. And if my child said they were getting married at 21, I’d spin out (even if I got married at 25 lol).

I’m very excited about this film. I am really thirsty for Paul Mescal. He looks like he’s in my fave genre of Paul Mescal films which is Sad Gay Paul Mescal Films.

And here’s Hammy’s review of Wednesday on Netflix:

Wednesday is a good show, although it portrays werewolves as good even though there homicidal and eat human flesh and kill people, slowly, and eat their babies, and dont even try to redeem themselves. I like how they release it at once and how wednesday has autism, although it is propaganda for werewolves. Many people die from werewolves.

What I’m reading:

At 50, The Rocky Horror Picture Show is ‘imperfectly’ good (and queer) as ever

‘Weapons’ and the Demonization of Teachers

Sally Rooney: I support Palestine Action. If this makes me a ‘supporter of terror’ under UK law, so be it

Related:

Ministry forced to release secret files showing alcohol lobby influence

The role of inflammation in the development of tic symptoms in subjects with ADHD

Māori wards: how the Hobson’s Pledge campaign relies on a ‘historical fiction’

Melania’s Embarrassing Letter to Putin Has Huge I-Can-Fix-Him Energy

Kneecap’s Mo Chara—‘This is about more than me, it’s about Palestine’

Meta’s flirty AI chatbot invited a retiree to New York. He never made it home.

I absolutely love this guest post on Webworm: Falling In Love With A Bot - We tend to love things that can’t love us back.

I have been thinking about this a lot - I am heartbroken at some people close to me using chatbots, but I know it’s about loneliness. It’s easier to criticise people about AI use than it is to reckon with whether we are supporting our friends and family through loneliness and lack of community. Why would someone turn to a chatbot instead of a human being? Maybe because the person they’re turning to isn’t there for them. I don’t like thinking about this because it makes me think about my role in being present in their lives - have I been doing enough?

Anyway, we are so cooked: Wired and Business Insider remove ‘AI-written’ freelance articles.

Let’s move onto something happier - We’re broke, exhausted, doing everything right - yet still called ‘merchants of misery’ - oh oops lol.

What I’m listening to:

One of my fave podcasts Celebrity Memoir Book Club is no more! I think I will be replacing it with Panic World - I love it so much. It’s a weekly podcast, hosted by Ryan Broderick of my fave newsletter Garbage Day, about “how the internet warps our minds, our culture, and eventually reality”.

I haven’t had much luck with audiobooks! I just gave up Dead Animals by Phoebe Stokes as it was too grim. I’m trying The Starving Saints by Caitlin Starling. I've found that my attention span is just not up to audiobooks and podcasts at the moment. Maybe next week?

So, that’s it for me this week. I sincerely hope the next email you get will be from Ghost. If you don’t get it - head over to www.EmilyWrites.co.nz! It’s not ready yet though!

I hope you have a great weekend. If you’re coming to Kids Rock 4 Palestine - I’ll see you there!

I’d love to know what you’re reading, listening to, watching - for now you can comment here until I move!

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Finally, my friend Ben died this week. I am sending my love to everyone whose precious life his precious life touched - his family, friends, and community. I thought of Aaron Freeman’s Eulogy by a Physicist when his lovely wife told us. So I thought I’d share it here. Rest easy e hoa. You are so loved.

“You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.”

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I hope you have a lovely weekend. Thank you for all of your support. Arohanui Emily x

Koha

Still bored? Rocket-like jellyfish, regal Komodo dragon and harrowing whale rescue — see the stunning Ocean Photographer of the Year 2025 finalists.

Love the aunties in this clip!

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So, I know many of you follow and love and his newsletter Webworm. If so, you may have seen that he is leavin…

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This was a totally unfair comment by Swarbrick because while it might seem like the government politicians refusing to acknowledge the genocide are spineless, she should know they’re actually really (really) busy fighting right now!

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The politicians she called out can’t talk about the ‘war’ when they’re battling their own wars.

And they’re fighting those wars on many fronts!

So - let’s take a look at the courage shown by government politicians who are part of defence forces against the most significant issues facing our country.

Erica Stanford’s war against the word hongi

For two years, New Zealanders have been begging Minister of Immigration Erica Stanford to provide humanitarian emergency visa pathways for Palestinians with family in New Zealand. This would literally save lives, which is why dozens of human rights organisations and hundreds of thousands of New Zealanders signed an open letter in March last year begging her to act.

But they didn’t know she was preparing to fight against our greatest threat: The word hongi. When Stanford found out 26 of 75 books given to Aotearoa’s children in class had up to THREE WHOLE Māori words, and a 27th book, 'At the Marae', had a whopping six Māori words - she took up arms.

She personally insisted on a near total ban on Māori words - the offending and impossible to understand words? Marae, karanga, kai, karakia, wharenui, koro, hongi, and the name Tāne.

Winston Peters’ war against trans girls playing floorball

Last month, Winston Peters said he would pull funding from any team that allows trans children or adults to play community sport.

It followed Chris Bishop asking Sport NZ to review the guidelines that broadly suggest “transgender people can take part in sports in the gender they identify with”.

Together, the junk police have waged war on community sports teams' ability to decide who plays on their teams. Because the biggest issue we face as a country is making sure a trans girl doesn’t accidentally play hockey.

What next? No lesbians allowed in roller derby? Be so for real.

Chris Bishop’s war against friendly cities

Last week, Te Whanganui a Tara entered an international partnership or ‘friendly city’ agreement with the Palestinian city of Ramallah. It was a beautiful gesture with a besieged group of people who are suffering through the unimaginable. The agreement symbolises a commitment to solidarity, cooperation and peace. Pretty nice eh?

Except that it wasn’t nice, and if you think it’s nice, you’re an anti-semite, and also somehow Tory Whanau is an anti-semite?

Bishop linked this agreement to anti-semitic graffiti in Wellington and suggested Tory Whanau had not spoken out against the graffiti, except that she did - repeatedly. And the 350,000 people living in Ramallah aren’t responsible for anti-semitic graffiti.

You might be thinking - “Who is Chris Bishop?” Well, he’s the Minister of Housing in a country where the median house price sits at 6.54 times the median income nationally, and 112,496 New Zealanders (at least) are severely housing deprived. So, posting snarky comments at Tory Whanau is exactly what we want him to be doing instead of…his job.

David Seymour’s war against any kids eating anywhere

David Seymour has continued his campaign of terror against children eating at lunchtime. Not content with running around schools like a reverse ham-burgler stealing kids’ lunches from under their noses, he’s continuing his unconditional support of Israel’s starvation regime of Gaza’s children.

Seymour has long been a supporter of Israel because he, too, hates kids. In September last year, he asked Foreign Minister Winston Peters to, in future, talk with ACT about New Zealand's position on Israel before making decisions on it, which is a frankly insane thing to request.

France, the United Kingdom, Canada and now Australia have all declared an intention to recognise a Palestinian state at a United Nations summit next month. The government has said they’ll think about it.

It’s been said that the hold-out on action on the genocide and recognising Palestinians as human beings is based on the views of one powerful person in government. I guess we just have to guess who that is…

Chris Luxon’s war against being a prime minister

It’s the job he thought he wanted, but has since found out he doesn’t like. It’s hard being prime minister when you’re not actually prime minister. Christopher Luxon has slowly come to the understanding that he gave away any tiny amount of power he had to an 800-year-old man obsessed with genitals and a racist who drinks room-temperature milk.

When he eats pavlova on a mountain while allowing hungry kids in Aotearoa to have their lunches snatched away by a Thatcher wannabe - he doesn’t even get cheered. People make fun of him!

His popularity has reached a two-year-low. His own deputy prime ministers are always insulting him and disrespecting him. He thought he could round up his property portfolio to ten after being the CEO of the country for a term, but now it looks like he’s going to be the leader of the only one-term National government ever.

But he’s determined - he will hug instead of hongi, his was out of this. He has declared war on being a prime minister, and victory looks assured.

So spare a thought for our busy politicians, fighting not for you, or anyone really, but for the causes closest to their hearts: Reactionary BS they think is popular because they spend too much time on Twitter.

Lest we forget at the next election.

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I don’t want to get up. I turn the volume down to silent on my phone, and I start reading my messages. Devastation from Gaza - every day. Every moment of every day. Horror on horror and grief that is truly unimaginable.

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I get the children off to school. Rug them up warm - beanies and scarves that they complain about and don’t want to wear.

I begin my mahi. I answer emails. I respond to messages. I pick up a script from the chemist. I am put on hold calling the bank, and I give up again, thinking I’ll ever get through.

I check my messages.

“Our hero! Our voice is gone,” - It’s from a family we support in the North of Gaza. Their child calls me ‘aunty Emily’.

“They took our voice from us,” says another.

Anas Al-Sharif.

A mother in a camp that I won’t name so she isn’t targeted tells me she calls him ‘the hope of Gaza’.

Called him.

He told their stories to the world. He broke down on camera. He was starving - his stomach empty, his heart full of courage. Israel killed him as he used his only weapon against the genocide of his people: his voice.

“I lose hope,” a boy I have been talking to for 14 months tells me. We are video calling, and the line is fuzzy.

“I lose hope, but I find it too,” he says. His mother was killed last year, and he just turned 17.

Anas Al-Sharif’s last words were posted one hour after he was murdered. He knew Israel would murder him.

“This is my will and my final message. If these words reach you, know that Israel has succeeded in killing me and silencing my voice,” he began.

He talked about his commitment to the truth, his people, and his precious family.

“I entrust you with Palestine—the jewel in the crown of the Muslim world, the heartbeat of every free person in this world. I entrust you with its people, with its wronged and innocent children who never had the time to dream or live in safety and peace. Their pure bodies were crushed under thousands of tons of Israeli bombs and missiles, torn apart and scattered across the walls.”

My son arrives home from school on the bus and kisses me on the cheek before rushing off to his friend’s house next door.

Later, I hear music blaring from his room. His aunty gave him an amp as an early birthday present.

I walk into his room to encourage him to turn it down and find him typing. He is answering emails. His fundraiser, Kids Rock 4 Palestine, is next week. I lean over his shoulder and watch him answer emails from other children and young people. They all want to be part of the day. He has too many performers and not enough time at the venue.

“Mum, I need to make a phone call,” he says. He is nervous. He calls the Wellington chapter of a solidarity network. “I am Eddie I am organising Kids Rock 4 Palestine” he says in one breath.

I don’t believe in any gods anymore. But I believe in people. I believe in us. I believe in the spirit of Anas Jamal Al-Sharif. I believe his courage changed hearts the world over. I believe Palestine is the heart of our world, and I am grateful for her people who have taught us so much about courage, survival, and freedom.

I think about my son, who will be a teenager next month. And I think about the teenager in a camp in Gaza who misses his mother so, so much. My ten-year-old tells me 16,301 kilometres separates this young man from us.

“If you could fly, it would take 18 hours to get to him, ok Mama?”. He points to a map - “But you can’t because nobody is allowed in to help them,” he says.

“This is mother,” he says. And he holds up his iPad: الأم.

He is learning Arabic on Duolingo. He shyly says “as-salamu alaykum” on video calls, then hides behind his hair. He put his Eurovision t-shirts in a pile and said, “Please sell these for Palestine. I think you will get about $201.”

I think about what this young man in Gaza said - “I lose hope, but I find it too”.

I lose hope every day. And I find it every day. I find it in my children’s love and commitment to a country they will never know.

I lose hope, and I find it in the mother who says ‘Habibti!’ when she connects with me online. She speaks a few words of English. I speak a few words of Arabic. She calls me from a camp where you can hear drones circle overhead. She laughs at pictures of my dog. She calls me ‘daughter’.

She sends me videos of her granddaughter in her tatreez. Her daughter dances in this beautiful dress with intricate embroidered patterns. “Before”, she says.

She asks me to send her videos of my son at Kapa Haka. There is no after for us.

She types me a message and I use the translator “Anas is our voice and our voice is gone”.

She types again. I wait.

“All the people are our voice,” she says. “Now all the people”.

I lose hope. I find it in every voice that cries freedom. Every voice that cries Palestine.

All the people.

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Want to donate to the Aotearoa to Gaza mutual aid fund?

The mutual aid fund is 38-9004-0845765-05

I am trying not to share my name everywhere for the bank match, so please click through without a name match.

Receipts and videos are posted on my Instagram.

If you don’t feel safe donating with a name match, I recommend sending donations to :

Team Assal - donate here and see their great mahi here.

Or Convoys of Good see their great mahi here.

Account name: Convoys of Good Account number: 01-0171-0633646-00 ref: GAZA

Thank you so much. Emily x

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I’ve been thinking about the piece…

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It’s not easy to build a village. But like everything, it starts with one small step. So I figured I’d take a step…hopefully with you.

In a quest to change the isolation many families feel, particularly the families of neurodivergent kids, I’ve been thinking about how we can create community. Community doesn’t have to be big. Our steps toward it don’t have to be big either.

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A while ago, we created a place where people can send items to neurodivergent kids and adults, and neurodivergent kids and adults can request items.

Back then, I said this:

In this whare, we know that to have a special interest is well…special. It can fill you up when your cup is nearly empty, and it can sustain you when nothing else is going right. Your facts will always be there - orderly, waiting, sure. Even if your feelings are so much harder to name, too complex, too confusing.

So, we have been a bit of a quest as a whānau to share the joy of special interests. We’ve been so lucky that people have shared with us amazing things for our son to add to his collection. Maps from all around the world, flags from everywhere, babysitters club books that would have cost us a fortune if we bought them off TradeMe…

We wondered how we could spread this joy. We decided to start a little group: Special Interests Sharing Aotearoa.

The Special Interests Sharing Aotearoa group has been pumping for a while now and I have decided to kick off a bit of a phase two. Can you be part of someone else’s village? Can you share your knowledge? Your expertise? Your passion?

I thought I’d start a bulletin board of sorts - this will live on the Special Interests Sharing Aotearoa page but also here on Emily Writes Weekly.

I’ve talked about this a lot, but the one thing I hear most from families is that it can feel so lonely raising a child who doesn’t fit into this neurotypical world with all of its strange social norms and rules. Special interests can be a bridge for children and adults who feel left out. They can be a support for parents struggling to watch their child be excluded.

So here’s a simple idea: match people who know about specific topics with kids and adults who are passionate about them.

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So - let’s kōrero! 🗣️

If you want to connect, comment below - I’ll be opening comments up to unpaid subscribers as well, which we don’t usually do here. I’ll also be running a spreadsheet in the background that has folks’ email addresses and phone numbers to share.

You can email me at specialinterestsnz@gmail.com if you want to connect directly or get details not listed here.

E iti noa ana nā te aroha, a small thing given with love.

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Kōrero + connect

Here are some wonderful people who’ve already put their hands up to share or connect:

Choo-Choo! I'm a locomotive engineer (and ex-ECE teacher) and I drive the Matangi (electric) units here in Wellington. I'm happy to chat with kids or adults with a special interest in rail. I could facilitate some access to standby units (weekends or interpeak at Wellington Station) for anyone who might need a bit more time or be taking gradual steps in working towards becoming comfortable using this type of transport. Contact via specialinterestsnz@gmail.com and I’ll connect you!

Rock Out: My tween has offered to jam and show the basics of playing a guitar with any keen kids in Pōneke. Send an email to specialinterestsnz@gmail.com or say hi to Eddie at Kids Rock 4 Palestine.

Huntaway! I have an 11-year-old autistic PDA son with ADHD who loves guns and hunting and would be desperate for me to get a gun license, which I'm fairly reluctant about. Still, I'd be happy for him to connect with someone who is a safe, kind, nurturing character who can take him under his wing and teach him how to use a gun safely, maybe practice something like possums or rabbits or even have a go mucking around with targets in their backyard. I live in the Franklin area of South Auckland, so if someone in that area could connect. Contact via specialinterestsnz@gmail.com and I’ll connect you!

Penpals! I’m an AuDHD mum with a five-year-old son who loves all things geography and would love to make friends as penpals or with anyone Christchurch-based. Contact nj.roche@gmail.com to connect.

Singalongs! Looking for someone who might be able to have a Zoom about song-writing with two keen tweens. They want to learn and are eager to talk to anyone who knows the ins and outs of songwriting. Or in person if they’re in Pōneke. Contact via specialinterestsnz@gmail.com and I’ll connect you!

Sustainability! I used to be a nurse specialist in Eating Disorders and now teach both swimming and sustainability so happy to be hooked up with anyone interested in those areas. Contact msmaxbennett@gmail.com to connect with Maxine.

Go fish! ADHD mum here. My 13 yr old (AuDHD) is obsessed with all things fishing and gaming. Any other fishing mad kids out there in Hamilton? Contact Sarah via specialinterestsnz@gmail.com.

Boo! Autistic ten-year-old keen to talk about the show Ghosts. Mainly, they want you to listen to them talk without interrupting and sometimes answer questions like ‘who is your favourite character?’ etc. BBC version or US version. Contact via specialinterestsnz@gmail.com and I’ll connect you!

Dig it! I work in Kenepuru, Porirua, and at our work we have a small digger, roller, and loader, plus a few trucks, and a bus. For health and safety reasons, they can't be running, but if you find anyone who wants to look at and sit in any of these things, I can facilitate that on a weekend when they aren't in use (some are used some Saturdays but not on Sundays). Email pania@driveright.nz to connect.

Solo together!: I'm a solo parent with one AuADHD child and two seemingly neurotypical children. I would love to connect with other solo parents who are juggling the different needs of their tamariki solo. Contact Sophie by emailing specialinterestsnz@gmail.com and I’ll connect you!

Yum! I am Kathy, and I run a rescue food cafe. I am passionate about getting kids and adults to cook, taste, try out new flavours and conjure up bottom-of-the-fridge recipes. I work at Waiheke Island Sustainability Centre, and we do zero waste and loads of different styles of composting. I have done YouTube recipe cooking vids, but would love to help anyone eat a rainbow from A for Aubergine to Z for Zucchini. Happy to help with food, recipes, zero waste and composting. Contact Kathy by emailing kathyvoyles@gmail.com.

Game on! 12 yr old AuDHD - loves object shows, Algodoo, Tier maker, Roblox, JJT Difficulties, Minecraft and modding his own worlds and items. YouTube is his go-to for Bill Wurtz, V Sauce, It's Jim (& much more). He loves making maths up using wiki fandom (and learning about cartoon worlds, characters and gaming stuff too). Can connect via discord or in person - Cambridge or Hamilton. Mum is Emma. Contact Emma by emailing specialinterestsnz@gmail.com and I’ll connect you!

Attention wāhine! I run a consulting business as a software developer and would love to talk to anyone but particularly young women about what the it field is like. When I was at uni I was one of three women in a full lecture theatre so it would be nice to tip those scales a little. I've also done physics and maths at uni level so can encourage in that area also. Contact Sarah by emailing specialinterestsnz@gmail.com and I’ll connect you!

Leave a comment below if there’s a topic you reckon you could chat to a kid or adult about. Or if you have a special interest you'd like to discuss with someone, let us know. If you’re shy, you can email me and I’ll add you to this list: specialinterestsnz@gmail.com.

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Also, I’m hoping we can help this mama! If you can share and tell them to contact specialinterestsnz@gmail.com I’d be very grateful. I’m in contact with this mama and she is really hopeful someone can help 🙏

He has been busy for weeks organising his fundraiser - Kids Rock 4 Palestine - and I've noticed a lightness in him since he started. When the world feels scary and you feel hopeless, I genuinely believe the only thing that helps with these fears and overwhelm is action.

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After a year of watching a genocide being live-streamed, I decided just to start collecting funds to send to families. We had been donating as a family, making strong connections with other families in Gaza, but we were only one family without a lot of extra to share. I knew other families would be in the same boat as us, desperate to help, so why not work together? Six months on, the fund supports 45 families. And each morning, amidst the videos of horror we all see on our screens, I also get videos of children in Gaza saying ‘thank you, New Zealand!’.

Donations of $1 and $2 are coming in, people saying, ‘this is my last $5 before pay day’, it reminds me that so many people are good. It isn’t hopeless.

I want my children to understand their place in the world. I want them to know how lucky they are. But I don’t want them to feel guilt or hopelessness. I want them to understand service, but I want them to see it as a privilege, not a burden.

So, how do you do that? How do you teach your kids empathy? How do you teach them, in a world that encourages consumerism and competition, to go against that? To view community as more important than consumption? How do we raise collaborators not capitalists?

I am not an expert. But here’s what we do in our whare, and I’d love to hear what you do. A lot of it is about Palestine, but the concepts work (I think) for every social issue.

Obviously, this is an endless conversation! It won’t cover everything, and every whānau is different. Just take what you need! And please share what you do in your whānau.

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Get educated together

I have spoken to so many parents who have said that learning about the true history of Israel’s occupation of Palestine has made them question everything. They’re seeing the propaganda machine in full swing. They’ve been taught their whole lives that Palestinians are terrorists, and now they’re suddenly realising that it’s Zionists who are the terrorists. They didn’t know about Israel’s attacks on Lebanon, Yemen, every neighbour they’ve ever had…

It’s scary to know there was an occupation happening that you didn’t know about. To learn it’s not a conflict nor a war but a genocide. That it’s been going on for decades, that it didn’t ‘start’ on 7 October.

I came to join the Palestinian liberation movement by accident in 2008, simply from working as a journalist and seeing unedited photos of the massacres of children in Gaza by Israeli occupation forces. We are all learning all the time.

Learning is crucial, as is facing the facts. Israel kills a child in Gaza every 45 minutes. That is an average of 30 children killed every day over the past 535 days - once you know that, you can’t unknow it.

Médecins Sans Frontières / Doctors Without Borders (MSF) conducted a study surveying only their staff and families. Forty-eight per cent of the people who died from blast injuries among their colleagues' households were children, and 40 per cent were under 10 years old.

When you are learning, think about how you can learn with your children. Here’s what we do:

• We looked at maps of Palestine before Israel’s occupation and invasion.

• We talked about what colonisation is and how it impacts indigenous people around the world.

• We watched videos showing Palestine before Israel’s occupation.

My kids are 10 and 12, so this is age-appropriate for them. I do not show videos of children being injured or starved, as this would be too overwhelming for them.

There are videos for younger children, like - I Am From Palestine - which is a cartoon. You know your children best. Some tweens and teens are very sensitive and struggle with overwhelm, so that cartoons might be better. If you have a neurodivergent child, they might have a better understanding of geopolitics than most adults, so that you can use resources designed for older children.

Encourage your child to question authority and encourage media literacy

Easier said than done, right?! But actually, just asking questions and having open and honest discussions as a family was and is our first step.

Example: As I said above, it needs to be appropriate for your kids. But my ten-year-old is obsessed with country borders, so he knows the history of Palestine. My 12-year-old is inspired by seeing what life is like for other children his age around the world. We shared this news piece on activist Ahed Tamimi, 16.

After the video, we had a hui and asked questions.

Why do you think Ahed was so angry with Israeli soldiers?

• Why do you think the media didn’t talk about the injuries to her younger sibling?

• What do you think about a court having a 100% conviction rate for only one race of people?

• What do you think about a child being jailed?

We look at (safe) news reports. We encourage the kids to come up with questions themselves about what they read.

We talk about the meaning of words and why some words are used while others aren’t. Why is the word ‘conflict’ used so much? Why do they say ‘Hamas-run’ for health statistics instead of using the death toll from The Lancet or the verified name list, where estimates of death are much higher? Why do you think they say Israel vs Hamas instead of Israel vs Palestine?

Support your child’s innate curiosity about the world

We learn about Palestinian culture by watching videos sent to us by children in Gaza. We watch and listen to Palestinian music. We share kapa haka videos of Palestinian children, and they send us videos of them doing Dabkeh. There are many videos of Dabkeh online.

We have keffieh, and we talk about how the keffieh shares the story of whakapapa just like ta moko. What do the different designs mean on a keffieh? What about colours?

We have learned basic Arabic.

• Shukran - Thank you

• As-salamu alaykum - Peace be upon you

• Marhaba - Hello

• Yalla! - Tautoko!

This helps us and our children to understand how connected we all are.

Support your child’s innate sense of justice.

Kids value fairness. Think of pass the parcel. If a child just grabbed the parcel and ran off with it, most kids would have a full-on breakdown.

We talk about teaching kids to share and to stand up to bullies, and talking about activism and social justice is just an extension of that.

Children naturally care about each other and know right from wrong, but society pushes that out of them so they can become little cogs in the corporate machine.

Why do we have that rule? I remember the first time my child said ‘my body, my choice’ to me in response to my desperate attempts to get his hair cut. I had to think about why I was pushing the haircut. We agreed that he could have long hair ONLY if he brushed it every single day and shampooed it every few days. The basis for my rule wasn’t fair (I want you to have short hair because it’s easier), his wasn’t either (I should be able to have dreads and also complain forever when I have knots).

Roleplay - What would you say if someone said something racist to a classmate? What would you say if someone asked you about Ti Tiriti and what it means to you?

Don’t avoid the tough subjects - Our tough subject in the house is religion because neither my husband nor I are a fan of organised religion. But we want our children to grow up respecting faith, but also not being wholly accepting of all beliefs, especially if those beliefs are based on the subjugation of others.

We talk about the similarities of belief systems.

For example, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 37a) says, “Whoever saves a single life is considered by scripture to have saved the whole world”. In the Quran there is Surah Al-Ma'idah (5:32), which states, "If anyone saved a life, it would be as if he saved the life of the whole of humanity.” In the bible there is Matthew 25:40 which says “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”.

We try to keep how much we dislike religion out of it, and we don’t encourage the idea that different religious beliefs justify genocide. Nobody is entitled to someone else’s land or life because they believe they were promised it in a book.

Show up for your community with your kids.

I drag my kids to community fundraisers and make them sit at the door taking tickets. I take them to protests often, and they moan and whine about it, or they get in there and love it.

They collect for Daffodil Day and the children’s hospital, and they attend vigils, hīkoi, and marches. They’re mostly enthusiastic about this. When they’re not, I remind them that showing up for our community is central to who we are as a whānau - so tough titties.

When they’re feeling upset, sometimes they’ll say they want to protest. They know that protesting reminds you that you’re not alone in feeling the way you do. If there’s no protest on, I tell my kids I’ll drive them to Parliament after school, and they can stand with a sign. They’ve got power; they need to know that.

There are things they can do!

• They can write to politicians.

• They can donate clothing and toys to charity shops.

• They can give some of their pocket money to charity.

• They can volunteer - picking up rubbish at the beach, planting seeds that bees like, collecting cans for the food bank, going to the climate strike, sharing petitions, handing out flyers…

Lead by example

But the biggest tip I have is probably that we need to lead by example as parents. I know we are all time poor, but I also think parents (at least those who read this newsletter) do a lot more for their communities than they think they do.

Often a mum will tell me she ‘doesn’t do much’ but she’s on the school board, she volunteers for the school fair, she mentors a young woman at mahi, she is at Playcentre once a week.

This often isn’t visible to children. So include them. “I am going to my community mahi. I spend time at your school to make sure everyone is getting the support they need. We run a pataka kai at school, so everyone who is hungry has food. We are planning a school fair so we can pay for everything at school so that everyone has what they need”.

Sit down as a family at the end of each month and share how you helped others. It can be small - we helped our neighbour move - or big - we organised a fundraiser.

Other random tips

• When talking about genocide, remind your children they are safe. Mamas Matter Here has a great approach called ROOTED (I know lol). Reassure safely. Offer honesty. Open space for expression. Trust their pace. Engage cultural practices. Demonstrate care. Here’s a script you can use.

• This is a good analogy on how inaction is still action. Words for the adults in your life too!

• Use affirmations. Tailor them for your family. One affirmation one of our sons particularly likes is ‘I come from people who are peace makers’ (he’s Moriori). We use ‘Little can make a big difference’ a lot. And I am learning to be brave and stand up for others. Here is a great list of affirmations.

• Encourage rest. I don’t want my kids to be like me and struggle to rest. I want them to know rest is resistance, but in our home ‘do the mahi get the treats’ works better. For us, that looks like not over-scheduling and not having heaps of after-school and extracurricular activities. We don’t like the idea of rushing around all the time. Every family has a different way of making this work!

• Challenge racism and sexism around them. Someone says something racist around them - call it out. We talk about being ‘upstanders’ instead of ‘bystanders’ in our house, and as hard as it can be, we need to model that first. If we are too afraid to stand up against racism or sexism or transphobia or homophobia, how can we expect our kids to?

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Thank you for sticking with me this far. I really want to know what you do in your whare. How do you talk to your kids about the tough stuff? What is important to your whānau? How do you show that?

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I had a chat to Hilary Gardner from the Nurses union to find out why nurses are striking and what we can do to support them. Here’s a quick explainer - everything you need to know and nothing you don’t!

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I think I have a fair idea given I’ve seen all of the news about resourcing issues and safety but why exactly are nurses striking?

Yes, this strike is primarily about concerns our staff have around safety. Patients are at risk because nurses, we are just stretched too thin. We became nurses because we care - that’s why we are striking.

It’s a pretty huge thing to strike. How long has there been issues around safe staffing and what has been done to fix them?

NZNO [The nurses’ union] and Te Whatu Ora have been in bargaining for more than eight months. Te Whatu Ora has failed to address concerns about safe staffing despite them being raised continually throughout the collective agreement bargaining process.

What kind of physical, mental, and emotional toll is this taking on nurses?
It’s hitting us hard - physically and emotionally. Patients are at risk because of short staffing, we chose this industry because we wanted to provide the care that patients need, but we can’t. This is heartbreaking for our exhausted members - we just want to help people.

Are there concerns about nurses leaving the profession or moving overseas because of the crap they’re dealing with?

Yes, and that’s why we think protecting and growing our workforce is key. We have lost thousands of nurses to Australia in the past year, and while we remain underfunded and understaffed, we will keep losing more. One of our claims was for our new graduates to be guaranteed employment, and unfortunately Te Whatu Ora won’t commit to do this.

What long-term risks does this pose to New Zealand’s health system if these issues aren't resolved?

The future of New Zealand depends on a functioning health system. We're not striking because we want to, we're striking because safe patient care demands it.

Te Whatu Ora must adequately staff its operations for the sake of our country’s health. Our future depends on having healthy, well citizens who are educated, trained, and capable of working. None of this is possible when people are sick, injured, and unable to access the care they need.

How will the strike affect patients and healthcare services during this time?

The lack of nurses has impacted on services and wait times over the years, making them worse. This is only 24 hours and life preserving service are in place.

What do you want the government to do? What are you asking for?What can patients and the public do to support nurses during the strike?

The Government needs to stop prioritising budgets over people’s lives. The public can show their support by joining nurses on the picket line and voicing their support for better-staffed hospitals and health care facilities.

What message would nurses like to send to the wider New Zealand public about why this strike matters—not just for them, but for everyone?

For nurses to go on strike, sacrificing their own financial situation for complete strangers in an attempt to get safety for those whom they care for, shows how much they care for the people they look after now and going into the future. Please stand with us.

Tomorrow you can share the following images on your social media accounts to show your support for our amazing nurses, midwives, and health care assistants.

I’ll be at Wellington Hospital to stand with the folks who saved my baby’s life - remember you can always show up at a picket with a treat for the nurses to show your support!

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On the day of the concert, I discovered they were actually two separate gigs – and I was meant to have bought tickets to both. Looking back, the signs were there. It’s clearly advertised as two shows at the same venue.

One Night. Two Epic Shows. Make a night of it and also buy tickets to SYNTHONY: Origins.

A special late-night edition of the globally iconic SYNTHONY experience, paying tribute to the golden era of electronic dance music.

I only had tickets for The Full Metal Orchestra. Not the, uh, electronic dance music.

After some frantic googling, I realised there was no way I could afford tickets for both.

“Hmm, maybe we skip the dance part, buddy?” I said cautiously. “We might be too tired after rocking out?”

“What time does it finish?” he asked.

I looked at the set list and my heart sank. I knew no bogan kid was ever going to see 9pm as an acceptable bedtime.

It was an unusual set-up for a gig:

6:00pm: Doors open
6:15pm: Jon Toogood (solo acoustic)
7:15pm: Full Metal Orchestra
9:00pm: Everyone leaves and, if they have tickets for Synthony Origins, they come back in after spending an hour outside the stadium
10:00pm: Doors open (again)
10:00pm: Dick Johnson & Bevan Keys
10:30pm: Sneaky Sound System
11:30pm: SYNTHONY
1:00am: Home

So I did what any writer mum would do – I tried to score not one but two free tickets. I figured the chances were slim to none. But then I was told I could pick them up from the box office.

And if I was feeling guilty about it, that vanished the second I saw they weren’t just free tickets – they were media passes, which meant we didn’t have to queue.

My son looked at me in awe, and I knew that (for this weekend at least) I had sealed my place as the favourite parent.

Drunk with power, he flashed his media pass everywhere we went. And before we knew it, we were right up the front – exactly where he wanted to be.

Possibly not where his surgeon (who had him on the table two weeks ago) thought he should be, but you can’t keep a good bogan kid down.

Spark Arena’s general admission area was still mostly empty when Shihad frontman Jon Toogood started his acoustic set.

It felt intimate - Just a guy who has aged like fine wine, his guitar, and a massive stadium of drunk boomers.

Toogood, at 52, still absolutely has his voice – powerful, strong, and commanding.

In pure Kiwi fashion, Toogood didn’t know all of the lyrics to Bliss and neither did anyone in the crowd so he joked through them. Your dad had arrived and thought this was hilarious and yelled that Toogood should “put his cock back in his undies” which had me reflecting (briefly) on the drinking culture in this country.

But then, tragedy. I thought your dad was going to drop dead when Toogood started Dragon’s divorced dad anthem Don’t You Go Out in the Rain.

When I say that he lost his mind it’s not visceral enough. He was screaming IF YOU GO OUT IN THE RAIN with a passion his wife (now on the Pals because she was drunk enough not to taste them) had never seen.

All the songs Toogood played were vaguely familiar – a perfect set for getting on it. The crowd loved Victoria, and he sounds better than Jordan Luck singing it.

He closed with the national anthem Home Again, sharing how he used to change the first line every night.

Oh so that’s what “put your cock back in your undies” means…

And just like that, we were warmed up and ready for the Auckland Philharmonia, the Come Together band, and the guest artists – including bogan royalty Phil Rudd, formerly of AC/DC.

As the 29-piece classical orchestra filed in, it was a thrill to be right up front to witness their palpable excitement.

Billed as a “symphonic assault”, I was keen to see what New Zealand’s largest professional symphony orchestra would do with Slayer’s Raining Blood.

Led by acclaimed Australian conductor Sarah-Grace Williams in leather pants, everyone seemed genuinely chuffed to be there.

And then it was all on with Metallica. EJ Barnes, daughter of bogan icon Jimmy Barnes, stalked onto the stage in a black cloak as the infamous Number of the Beast intro began. My kid was frothing.

I was waiting for Devilskin’s Jennie Skulander – an absolute powerhouse – and she did not disappoint. She tore through that Led Zep song we all know but can’t remember because it’s not Whole Lotta Love.

Just as I thought we needed to hear more of the orchestra, they actually delivered Whole Lotta Love – this time with Pōneke vocalist Seamus Johnson. Channelling Plant’s orgasmic squeals perfectly, he slipped effortlessly into the shoes of Bon Scott, Axl Rose and seemingly every other mega metal frontman.

It was like bogan karaoke – except everyone on stage was wildly talented. The crowd was full of leathers-at-their-wedding uncles and Stevie Nicks-inspired aunties, and the singalongs were massive. Just fun and silly.

Milan Borich of Pluto singing Deftones’ Change had me and the other cougars sexually objectifying him in ways I won’t commit to print.

The orchestra shone on System of a Down’s Aerials and Tool’s Sober which seemed like a plea to the aunty behind me who spilled her smuggled-in Jack and Coke all over my goth Crocs.

A proper reviewer would probably talk about technique. I can only tell you the vibes were immaculate.

If I had one gripe, it’d be the lulls between songs. There was no host, no transitions. Singers just disappeared into the dark. But really, it’s a small complaint.

By the time the finale arrived, it felt like The Full Metal Orchestra had finished far too soon.

Growing up in Australia in the 80s, I had to hear It’s a Long Way to the Shop If You Want a Sausage Roll more times than anyone deserves. I was thinking that For Those About to Rock would have been a better finale – until the bagpipers came out.

Look, I absolutely lost my shit then. It was so fun and so ridiculous. You just couldn’t help but lean in.

The Sweet Child O’ Mine actually danced with his dear old mum, and the pure delight on the pipers’ faces made the whole night worth it.

All in all – a novelty, sure – but also a genuinely joyful celebration of the songs that mean so much to those of us who grew up sleeping in cars while our parents partied. And to the next generation, now forced to endure their own parents singing Poison to each other on Saturday nights.

As for the second half? Turns out we were too tired from rocking out. Nothing kills a buzz quite like standing outside in the cold waiting to dance again.

Our staying power was weak – but our spirit was strong. My son played War Pigs on repeat on the walk home.

But this time it was Jon Toogood singing. His new guitar hero.

And somewhere I could hear your dad faintly singing into the night - “yaaaaa yaaaa ya ya yaaaaaah fuggadabaddalaswaaan”

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And look! Real ones know who this is! 🤘

(Also I’m sorry about typos I…

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I watched the number of donations going up and thought - we live in a country where people really, really, really care. I fell asleep with my phone in my hand for the next few hours.

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I woke to find 998 New Zealanders had donated to a link I’d put up for the Aotearoa 2 Gaza mutual aid fund.

It’s a fund I’ve been running for a long time now. It’s for folks who can only spare $2 before payday but want to send that $2 Palestinians in desperate need. The fund supports 38 families because New Zealanders have given even when they had nothing. And they gave again the next week.

Previously, I ran the fund just by sharing my bank account number. But it grew and grew - because New Zealanders want to help Palestinians.

Eventually I started to get violent threats by Zionists and those threats began to focus on my children and they became particularly sexually violent in a way that I was struggling to cope with. Banks in New Zealand require full names and well, I would do anything for our Palestinian brothers and sisters, so I hadn’t thought about the impact on our family.

I had no protection. Just a bank account with my name on it.

Setting up a link through Ko-Fi which is about koha seemed like an easy step to keep my family safe. Immediately, folks began donating. Within two days we had $8,381.52 worth of donations from 998 New Zealanders.

Ko-Fi sends funds directly to Paypal. They don’t hold any money, it’s a fees-free service that is wonderful for mutual aid. I set up a fund for Paypal titled Aotearoa to Gaza Mutual Aid.

PayPal then immediately froze the $8,381.52 in donations. Without saying why, I was greeted with a page that said: “We’re no longer offering PayPal services for this account”.

What would happen with the donations that 38 starving families were relying on? Well, Paypal would keep it. For six months. The page further stated:

Your account has been permanently deactivated. However, you can still view your transaction history, download account statements, or request copies of your data.

Before you can withdraw or transfer any remaining funds from your account, we need to hold them for up to 180 days to cover things like chargebacks or other financial liabilities.

I encouraged those who made donations to request a refund. But then when I tried to accept the refund I was told I couldn’t. Because, you guessed it: “We’re no longer offering PayPal services for this account”.

At first, I thought it was just a mistake. I couldn’t find a human to talk to. I sent messages. I was stuck in an absurd loop - auto replies, circular questions, requests to explain goods or services. I explained: mutual aid. Still, no response.

I sent more messages. I called. I begged. But it didn’t matter. My account was deactivated. Not just locked. Not under review. Permanently deactivated. With $8,381.52 inside it.

When I finally got through to Paypal’s phone service I was told that I could appeal. Did I want to do that? Well, yes, obviously! She said she’d put that through and I would find out in seven days if the account would allow refunds. If the account stayed deactivated I wouldn’t be notified because they told me, “you’ve already been notified”.

‘What should the 998 New Zealanders who donated do?’ I asked the Paypal staff member by phone:

PayPal: “If you don’t want to wait for the appeal anymore the sender of the money can file a dispute. And then the recipient can send a refund”.

Me: “You know I’m the recipient? The person that you’re talking to? When PayPal tells me someone asked for a refund you won’t let me give them a refund because my account is restricted. You must understand how absurd this is? Can’t you just give everyone back their money?”

PayPal: “Your account is restricted ma’am”.

I spent the morning talking to my accountant who is so lovely and so smart. Then I spent twenty minutes crying to my accountant who is as generous as she is lovely and smart. I prepared for my meeting with my bank to try to work out how to have an account number that isn’t linked to my account.

All in all, I’ve spent more time in the last week working on the fund than I have had to for the last six months. And I can’t stop thinking about how every single road block possible has been put in place to stop us caring for each other.

This is how it works: shoot the children, starve the families, and freeze the koha. It’s not a glitch, it’s by design. This kind of structural violence is theft disguised as policy.

Mutual aid funds are not charity. They are rooted in solidarity. It’s about everyone giving what they can, when they can. Giving whatever bits of money they have or services they can provide to others in need. It’s about community.

There’s nobody taking money for admin. Nobody skimming the top. No advisors, no fees, no industry around the funds. It’s just giving.

And it’s a direct response to governments that do not care about us. It’s saying - we save each other.

So of course it's terrifying and not just inconvenient for big tech and banking corps when communities care for each other directly. Their entire business model depends on taking a cut from hardship, turning care into commerce, and inserting themselves as the middlemen of survival.

But mutual aid cuts them out. It says that we don’t need your permission to love each other. To show up for each other. To be there for each other.

We don’t need your fees to feed each other. We don’t need you.

What happens when everyday people realise they can meet each other’s needs without a profit motive in sight? That’s not just a disruption, it’s a threat.

That’s why I’m telling you that PayPal isn’t confused. It’s complicit. This isn’t a misunderstanding, it’s a deliberate act of sabotage against solidarity.

Mutual aid is also an infuriating concept for the Zionist entity and its supporters - they’re starving Gaza and knowing people on the other side of the world are aware they’re doing this and are fighting it in any way that they can, well that needs to be stopped.

Our government will not act in any way when it comes to the genocide. And we who have watched 19 months of children being slaughtered, health care workers and teachers being killed, aid workers being shot, journalists being set on fire, occupation soldiers playing with the toys of babies they killed and dressing in the lingerie of women they’ve tortured and murdered - we found a tiny thing. A tiny thing that made us feel like we could make a difference.

That light in the dark being snuffed out is devastating. But it’s a light that is not easily snuffed out. Because when we feel hopeless we look to the resilience and courage of the Palestinian people.

We had tried to do something. We had tried to help. We had tried to make a way for people here to stand with people there. We had tried to get money to people who had lost everything. We had tried to make a bridge of solidarity from Aotearoa to Gaza. They broke the bridge.

But we wouldn’t give up, because the Palestinian people don’t give up.

The morning when I thought there’s just no way I can get this to work I was sent a video from one of the families the mutual aid fund supports.

One of our little children looked into the camera, her tiny face showing the signs of malnourishment, her hair balding in patches in from stress, dark circles around her eyes.

“Look Emivy! Look! For your friends Emivy say we love you. Gaza loves you” she said.

She smiled wide. Her front teeth missing.

“My son leaned over.
‘She lost her tooth,’ he whispered. ‘Will the tooth fairy come?’

Yes, I said. We will find a way.”

If you are a lawyer with experience in banking or financial law, please contact me. I need help to fight PayPal and get $8,381.52 back to Palestinian families. I have no money by the way.

Please share this widely the more people who know, the more likely we are to find someone who can help. Email: mediarelations@paypal.com to ask them to unfreeze the funds.

If you have ideas for how we can run a mutual aid fund safely, let us know.

Mutual aid is about us saving each other. Let’s keep building the bridge they’re trying to burn.

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What I should have known about Paypal

Needless to say, I didn’t know this a week ago and now I know.

PayPal has a number of policies that discriminate against Palestinians. PayPal does not allow Palestinians in Gaza or the occupied West Bank to open accounts. This is despite operating in Israel and Israeli settlements in the West Bank which are illegal under international law.

This means Palestinians are denied access to basic financial services like receiving invoices, payments for work, or donations while their Israeli settler neighbours can use PayPal freely.

This has been described by human rights groups as digital apartheid reinforcing and entrenching Israel’s regime of control and discrimination.

I have since found out that PayPal has frozen funds collected for Palestinian mutual aid across the world. Humanitarian organisations have said funds for Palestinians have been held for up to 180 days without clear explanation, using vague justifications like "risk mitigation" or “violations of acceptable use,” even when the funds were clearly labeled as humanitarian aid.

I was told decisions are typically automated and final, even when it harms vulnerable people relying on the funds.

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So, I do wonder if we have had h…

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x Emily x

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For Emily - This is a small koha, not just of words but of love for you and your child, in this hard moment.

We argued about whether I could buy you a coffee and I told you: think of your children (they will find so many wonderful ways to spend their parents' money).
This is my not-so-subtle way of insisting.

There have been so many open letters to Jacinda Ardern lately, I thought I’d write one for women in general. One that might also upset a few men.

This is a love letter to women.

- Helen Gilby

Some of the Most Beautiful People I Know

There’s a kind of beauty that doesn’t arrive with fanfare. It doesn't come in perfect timing or perfect form.
It turns up in the middle of hard things. Sometimes messy. Sometimes sideways. Sometimes exactly when you didn’t know you needed it.

This is a love letter to women.
To our friendships, our mothering, our chaotic kindness, and our quiet endurance.

I’ve had some strange and painful chapters in my life. Some full of grief. Others just full of absurdity. A few still make me laugh because if I didn’t, I’d scream.

But in the midst of all of it, always, there were women.

Women who showed up.
Women who sent a message at the exact right time.
Women who made food, shared memes, sat on the floor next to me.
Women who had nothing left themselves, but somehow found a way to be kind anyway.

Lately, I’ve been watching my daughter stand on the verge of teenagerhood.
I can see her starting to build the kinds of friendships that hold you up when things get complicated.

She and her friends are already learning how to comfort each other, how to stay close even when one of them is hurting.
It’s beautiful and a little wild to watch.

Mothers and daughters don’t always have it easy. But sometimes, a good friend can hold a space between us, translate the grief, soften the edges, remind us both of what matters.

There’s a kind of deep soul memory we carry.
Of looking after each other in the in-between places.
When a child is unwell.
When your heart is aching.
When you're holding everything together with stale coffee and a prayer.

And it’s not performative. It’s not curated.
It’s not a brand of resilience or a product line of self-care.
It’s just us.
Doing what we’ve always done.

I think about my own life, all the strange roads I’ve walked down, and I can trace it back to these shining little constellations.
Women whose names may never be known by the world, but who changed mine.

You don’t need to be poetic to be powerful.
You just need to keep showing up.

And haven’t we all shown up for each other in the most extraordinary ways?

So if this week is hard, if you're tired, or worried, or feeling stretched too thin, I want you to know:

I see you.
We see each other.
We are quietly magnificent.

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Koha

Helen Gilby is a writer and a solo mum. She is fluent in grief, class warfare, and bureaucratic nonsense. Her writing appears in The Spinoff and Rere Takitahi: Flying Solo, where she trades footnotes for feelings.

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But of course, I was way off.

The “issues” were the Interislander ferries, defence funding, and national security. None of them were: Don’t sexually harass the mayor. Or, more broadly: What can do to stop the brutal attacks on women (especially Māori women) in politics?

It seems politicians just can’t agree on the radical idea that maybe women in politics shouldn’t be threatened, abused, or sexually harassed. But let’s give them the benefit of the doubt eh? Why would they speak up about Ray Chung’s three-year harassment campaign against Mayor Tory Whanau, when so few journalists are asking them to?

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The Post and Stuff (owned by a woman who is in an anti-Tory Whanau lobby group) have managed to cover every breath Whanau has taken in three years.

They wrote more articles about Whanau selling her car* than they did about a convicted sex offender being a former president of the ACT Party. They have a reporter whose sole job seems to be just looking through her rubbish or trying to catch her jay-walking. They even got her dog evicted!

She has been followed everywhere by creeps with cameras. Any time she was seen with a drink it was reported that she’d been up to “drunken antics”.

At a time when the government was laying off most of Wellington, the region’s paper had a Whanau beat that covered every single thing she did - truth optional.

And yet, they’re barely covering evidence of a campaign of sexual harassment against her by her colleagues. And when they do, they simply add weight to a rumour they know isn’t true.

Tim Hunt describes a mayoral candidate sending an email full of sexual fantasies about the mayor as Ray Chung’s account of a ‘Whanau’s alleged ‘night of debauchery’’’. Alleged? Whanau’s night? I mean FFS. Language matters!

Imagine, just for a second, that a colleague who hates you sends an email to others who you work with saying you had an orgy. They want to humiliate you. They describe what they imagine your naked body is like. They claim you used drugs. They go into grotesque detail. None of it is true.

Now imagine they take it to the media. Then imagine people discussing the email, the rumours, as if they’re fact. There’s no evidence. There never was.

If this were about a white politician, the piece would open by saying the claims were unsubstantiated and false. They’d say there’s no proof. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even run the story.

Think about every rumour you’ve ever heard about a politician - how many made it to print? None that I can think of. And I’ve worked in newsrooms where we hear every rumour going.

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It’s all so exhausting. every morning another deranged Post piece, written by some drooling journalist who seems to be operated by a lobby group sitting Ratatouille-style in his hair.

I keep thinking about how hopeful we were in the aftermath of Whanau’s mayoralty win. We had seen a sweep of the worst people possible elected into leadership roles across the country, so Whanau’s win - and Whanau herself - symbolised hope.

I door-knocked for Whanau and took tickets at the door for her events, I did interviews with her on social media (all voluntary, by the way), and my bestie was her campaign director. So when I say I was invested, I really was invested.

I saw people power in action. I saw the positivity of the campaign and I saw the horror of it too - I saw people scream at Whanau and call her n***r in a hall my children once did music playdates in.

I remember the moment we heard she’d won. It blew us away. We also had a bunch of Green wins too. We were all so happy – all of the hard work that so many volunteers did – it worked.

Wellingtonians saw that we can focus on the environment and we can bring change in the city. We can pedestrianise parts of the city to make it actually appealing to people instead of just a giant piss-soaked car park. We can have a leader with integrity. One who wasn’t bought and paid for. We can prioritise people who live in Wellington and good housing - not big business and rich pricks who don’t even live here.

We had so much hope. And then, almost immediately, the smear campaigns began.

It was like Whanau was never able to leave that hall full of furious old white men screaming the N-word at her.

It’s hard to fully describe just how absolutely brutal the campaign against Whanau has been. Radio New Zealand published a talk-back rumour so offensive that I cannot write it out - but it’s what men who hate women say women do in public, and buys into the racist myth of brown women being sexually insatiable. The bar in question insisted it was not true.

We now know without a doubt that it was clearly part of an organised smear campaign that began with Chung’s letter. So all of this ‘it was two-and-a-half years ago’ bullshit needs to be called out. It began two-and-a-half years ago and it never stopped.

It was such obvious misogynist rage bait. Totally something you would see on the ugliest parts of the internet, but astonishing to read on RNZ. It felt like our national broadcaster was joining The Post at the back of the hall, N-word at the ready.

Behind the scenes, a few women journalists got in touch to say how shocked they were and to share how astonishing it was that RNZ went ahead and published it.

It was relentless. And it was the demanded price for daring to have a young mayor who cared. A mayor who was human. A mayor who was actually known and liked in Wellington. A mayor who had no time for corporate interests and slumlords.

So transparent was the hate for Whanau that The Post’s owner openly admitted she was in a lobby group campaigning against Whanau. The Post ran a full-page advertisement for the lobby group, pretending it was a news story (without a byline, obviously, because it wasn’t a news story).

All the while, Whanau was dealing with racist and sexist attacks in public – while trying to do her job. She knew her own colleague was spreading sexual fantasies about her to other colleagues.

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So no, it turns out politicians won’t work together on the big issues. Not when the issue is: Should a brown woman be allowed to lead without being torn apart? Not when the issue is: Should we believe misogynist rumours, or challenge them? Not when the issue is: Can we make space for wāhine Māori leaders - or are we just fine watching them be hounded out of public life?

Even Andrew Little can’t bring himself to post about all of this. He’s being pestered day and night by people begging him to stand up, but the Labour desire to punch left is too strong.

That there are no women in the mayoral race for Wellington for the first time since 1986 is a tragedy. It’s also not a coincidence it is a consequence.

If you lined up all the mayoral candidates right now, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. Not in age, not in policy, and certainly not in courage.

So I keep thinking about the little Tory we’ll never get to meet. The little girl who might have believed there was a place for her in politics, until she saw what they did to someone who looked like her.

We owe her more than this.

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The Spinoff has covered this well: Windbag: Ray Chung has never been fit for office.

*In an interview with a radio hack, Whanau said, “I’ve just sold my car recently, to kind of help pay the bills. I walk to work again, my mortgage rates have doubled in the last few years.” It was an hour-long talk about the impact of the cost of living crisis, which the government was trying to deny at the time. The hack lost his mind completely.

The hack called it a “train wreck” and wrote multiple columns on it. When Whanau said the line was taken out of context, the hack began frothing so hard he turned his office into a foam party. He implied she “giggled” like a school student (I have to wonder if “schoolgirl” was edited out), didn’t have good advice, wasn’t up to the job, blah blah blah – all over a throwaway comment about a car. He talked about her salary, implying that because of it she couldn’t possibly empathise with Wellingtonians about the cost of living.

The Post wrote about 15,000 stories about the “sold car”. If there had been a nuclear war, the first question they’d have asked in the crater of the world, Luxon’s bald head covered in ash, would be: “Can you comment on Tory Whanau saying she sold her car?”

I’m really feeling for all of who are stuck in areas that might…

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I know the headline of this newsletter sounds far-fetched - but it’s a question that keeps circling in my head. For the second consecutive day, no committee members from NZ First showed up to hear oral submissions on the Regulatory Standards Bill. NZ First is the party we need to encourage to break away from the strange grip Seymour has on this coalition.

At this point, Christopher Luxon is barely functioning as prime minister. The hierarchy of our government increasingly looks like this: Prime Minister David Seymour, Deputy Winston Peters, and some guy fetching their coffee - Luxon.

New Zealand First MPs not even showing up to work for their most important bill of the year? I honestly don’t know what to say.

It’s worth noting that it looks like nobody on the committee showed up in person on the first day. Every MP zoomed in. This is despite the government constantly telling us we need to be turning up to work. Apparently they don’t.

This all feels like part of a commitment by this government to turn away from the public they’re meant to serve. We are seeing our (deputy) prime minister waging a campaign of harassment against anyone who publicly disagrees with him. When he’s not doing that he’s calling the majority of New Zealanders idiots who are just misinformed and don’t understand his aims.

He has only briefly taken a break from this to claim that 150,000 New Zealanders are bots and are fake voices that should be considered invalid and dismissed because they don’t agree with him.

When New Zealanders in their thousands take part in a democratic process and one of the most powerful leaders in government encourages the public to attack them and then says they shouldn’t be able to have their say - that’s an attack on democracy. When a lawyer from the Waitangi Tribunal who has simply explained what is in the bill has to get a security guard - that’s an attack on democracy. I don’t know how anyone can see it any other way.

This campaign to undermine our right to be involved in political process and actually be heard by the people meant to serve us didn’t start with this bill. Similar claims of bots and ‘fake’ submissions were made during the submissions process on the Treaty Principles Bill in January. More than 300,000 submissions were made and no evidence was ever found to support any of Seymour’s claims.

But at this point, it hardly matters. The damage is already done.

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Politicians aren’t even showing up for work to their incredible well paid jobs. We pay them to act and they’re not even doing the very first step toward action.

Some are simply quitting when they are challenged in any way to do the work they’re paid to do. Other politicians spend almost all of their time attacking the opposition and getting them banned for literally doing their job as opposition or the speaker or trying to start culture wars instead of actually doing what they’ve been elected to do.

We forget that democracy is literally ‘for the people, by the people’. Yet somehow, this coalition of corporates has turned it into for the profit not the people. For big business not New Zealanders. For the few, paid for by the many.

The Finance and Expenditure Committee made the decision to allocated a maximum of 30 hours for public submissions on the Regulatory Standards Bill. There is absolutely no way to hear a range of views in that time and have those views questioned, which is the purpose of a hearing like this. To give an example of recent bills, 100 hours was assigned for the Fast Track Bill and 80 hours for the Treaty Principles Bill.

The RSB bill had so far been rejected every single time it has come up - it has come up four times. For this reason, David Seymour does not want the bill to go through a full process. And yet - New Zealand First don’t even show up and National as always are invisible.

Committees and submissions are boring. But they matter. And they make change. They’re a core part of democratic process.

Years ago I supported my son to speak at the health select committee under a different government. He was so nervous. Everyone in our whānau knew his speech by heart by committee day.

He was just a kid and his hands were shaking as he spoke clearly and with conviction. He was calling - along with many others - for an increase to the Pharmac budget and access to insulin pumps and continuous glucose monitors for everyone in Aotearoa.

Due to his speech and the tireless mahi of so many New Zealanders - we now have an increase to the Pharmac budget and increased access to continuous glucose monitors and insulin pumps.

Without people speaking at these committees - and politicians actually listening - we as people wouldn’t have any of the gains we have.

No politician delivers change without pressure.

If they shut the doors on us, if they refuse to listen, then yes—we’re screwed.
And if we don’t push back now, we’ll stay that way.

And that’s where we are at now. A precedent is being set by this coalition.

So—I can’t stop thinking about how everyday New Zealanders would be fired (or made redundant by a gloating government) if we pulled half the crap this coalition is pulling.

Swearing at colleagues and customers. Insulting them online. Slapping our company logo on petty memes and personal attacks. Skipping mahi. Calling the people we’re meant to serve and listen to ‘bots’ and ‘fakes.’

Any of us would lose our jobs.

But here, in this government?

They get rewarded for it. I don’t think we should ever stand for that, do you?

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I understand the desire to be morally clean. I certainly aspire to be able to look my children in the eye and say ‘I did what I could’.

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I am also someone who regularly beats myself up about not doing enough. I am tempted by the same capitalist lures as anyone else and I desire the same conveniences others have (I mean how nice would it be to feel unchallenged every day). But the shoes we walk in are shaped by the roads we’ve had to navigate. And bullying myself for the things I cannot change about who I am won’t help me - and more importantly it won’t help the people I care about.

As much as we think it’s possible to be free of any ethical wrongdoing, it simply isn’t. And the pursuit of such a goal is a losing game. It’s also so hard. And we are already trying to live in a world that is increasingly hard to live in if you care about other human beings.

The trope of ‘The Left eating The Left’ has always annoyed me. It’s always delivered in such a smug way - even if there’s a little bit of truth in it. I mean, I do think that lefties can be particularly hard on their fellow lefties.

Leftism as an ideology should be based on the simple premise of trying to do better by each other - addressing inequality, breaking down class and social hierarchies that harm people, community and cooperation etc. We all have different ways of working toward these things. We are all imperfect human beings being imperfect human beings, so we are going to mess up and that’s scary.

But by always trying to think about the needs of others, we can become stuck in a cycle of fearing we’ll upset someone. And that only benefits those who don’t care about others. They have no such crisis of confidence over their actions.

I’m not going to waffle - I mean, you know me, I am going to. I always waffle. But here’s why I have been thinking about this. Today, I felt buoyed by my community then immediately tried to extinguish that joy I felt in service - to prepare for inevitable criticism.

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First of all, if you’re in a flooded area - are you OK? Do you need anything? Please let us know if we can help out. The scenes out of Taranaki are so awful. I am really hoping everyone is doing OK - well as OK as you can be.

Please always remember we are a community here so if anyone needs a hand with anything - leave a comment!

As I write this I’m trying to entertain four kids. It’s fun haha. I took them to the arcade which is the shittiest most expensive school holiday activity. The worst.

As you read this I will hopefully be with no kids at the Wellington Tattoo Convention (it’s on all weekend!).

Next week, I am excited about the new Dowse exhibition Flaming Star. I mean:

Flaming Star wrangles with the dark undercurrents of ‘The West,’ queerness, desire, and the outright camp. Think Liberace in dusty chaps, horny yearning for country film stars, haunted mansions, and cowboys saddled on gyrating mechanical bulls.

Be still my beating heart! Next week I’m also going to Darkfield: SÉANCE + FLIGHT next week which I’m very excited about. It’s nice to finally have something to look forward to after weeks of sickness.

It feels like Stuff has been going hard on the rage bait this week - what with that absolutely ridiculous open letter to Jacinda Ardern by some old dude who was basically saying he’s upset about having to see her face on books?

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