I’m an old boy of De La Salle
School Dundalk in the grand old Republic of Ireland. A very old boy at this
stage. I left in June 1982 and last set foot in the place in August of that
year when I crawled back to the guidance counsellor with my tail between my
legs and apologised for mocking him for the previous five years.
The reason for my ego destroying
visit was that my grant application for University had just been
refused. At the time, Ireland was economically depressed but if you had a
job you were either working for yourself or somebody else. My Dad was lucky
enough to have employment and he worked his backside off to provide for us by
doing every hour of overtime he could wrangle. His wages were taxed by his company
and reported to the government. To obtain a grant, my parent’s income had to be
below a certain amount. I didn’t make it by a couple of hundred bucks and so
had to surrender my dream of becoming an Arts graduate, which in fairness in 1980s
Ireland had the job prospects of a steam locomotive driver.
My careers guidance teacher was
kinder to me than I had been to him and he set me up with an Interview in an
Accountancy office that led me to a high paid career and a comfortable life in
New Zealand.
It worked out well in the end,
but I still carry some bitterness from those heady days of 1982, particularly
as one of my first jobs in that Accountancy office was to complete grant
applications for the off spring of farmers, who had far more income and assets
than my Dad but were able to hide most of their earnings.
I think my understanding of
inequality and injustice started around this time. I was teenage Socialist but
this was the first proper kicking I got from Capitalism.
I thought of all this last Monday
when I stepped into the foyer of De La School in Auckland. I was curious to see
how it compared to my Alma Mater. My first impressions were that it had better
sports grounds, which is not surprising when you think about the number of All
Blacks it has produced. But the school itself was a rambling collection of
pre-fabricated buildings scattered around a crumbling old Victorian building
that would not look out of place in a Harry Potter movie.
I got there at 9.30am and late
comers were scurrying around in a uniform that was very different to the
stylish outfit we rocked back in the 80’s.
My reason for visiting was to
drop off sandwiches for kids who get sent to school with no lunch. My company pays me for five days work but expects
me to work just four. In return, I’m expected to do four charity days per year.
I chose a sandwich business that provides a free sandwich to hard up kids for
everyone it sells.
My job was to be their delivery
driver for the day. They gave me a list of four South Auckland schools and a
map and sent me on my way. I should explain that Auckland is similar to a lot
of cities in that the poor are funnelled into one part of town, so that the
rest of the population can live in blissful unawareness that inequity exists.
In Dublin, the north of the city is generally poor while the south is rich,
although ironically the poorest suburb is in the south and the richest in the
north. In Melbourne, they push all the poor out to west.
Auckland follows this structure
rigidly. When I was still working in Melbourne, I visited the Citibank building
in Auckland. As I knew we planned to live here one day, I asked one of the guys
there where was the best place to live in Auckland. He pointed east and said
that’s where the English live, west was where the other European immigrants
lived, north across the harbour bridge is where the recent wave of white
escapees from South Africa lived. I asked about South Auckland and he gave me a
knowing smile. “That’s where you live if you support the Warriors rather than
the All Blacks.”
We bought a house in South Auckland
in 2016, partly because it was near my wife’s family but also because we had no
jobs at the time and could afford it without a mortgage. It’s a nice house but 35km
from the City centre. That means I’ve spent the last three years on the train
each day enjoying the scenery that South Auckland has to offer. That’s a
succession of car breaking yards, falling down, damp ridden houses, angry dogs
on rope, cars on bricks and vast yards where shipping containers go to die. It’s
where Auckland’s Maori and Pacifica communities live. They tend to be the most disadvantaged
communities in a country that is still run by and for the privileged white
community.
And Maori and Pacifica tend to
favour Rugby League over Rugby Union. Union is more egalitarian here than in
Europe, but it is still considered to be the white man’s game. The Warriors play
in the Australian National Rugby League and that’s the only sports shirt you see
in South Auckland.
I visited four schools that
morning, delving deeper into the heart of darkness. The boxes of sandwiches got
bigger as the schools got smaller. My final destination was a small primary
school, where by my calculation every second kid in the school was getting a
free sandwich. The America’s Cup will be here in 2021 when Auckland will
showcase it’s beautiful harbour and flaunt the wealth that this country clearly
enjoys.
I doubt if De La Salle or the
other schools in South Auckland will make it onto that coverage. They form the
part of New Zealand that nobody wants to talk about. They are hungry for
sandwiches and also for a voice.
