Chapter 15

Aroha McLean is in a contemplative mood. She is back in Tuakau for the weekend and has the pleasure of seeing her son Mikaere after his first week in his new course. But she has a lot on her mind.

Inka is so full of surprises. She will never know how hard I had to fight to get approval for her position. It is the only dedicated staffing position in Gender Studies, even though it anchors a lively interdisciplinary programme. She should never find out the short list.

The short list consisted of : Inka, Kataraina Smith, a woman from Victoria University of Wellington with Māori whakapapa, and Kylie Burnham, the Vice-Chancellor’s wife, who has good Australian credentials. Naturally the Vice-Chancellor established an extra degree of distance from the appointment process, though it should not be assumed that he favoured the appointment of his wife, whatever he might have said at home. On learning of Inka’s appointment, he expressed enthusiasm, or at least what would count as enthusiasm given his dry, utilitarian manner.

Kataraina was the first to be interviewed and naturally, as I knew her, I acted as I normally would and hugged and kissed her as a greeting. I then immediately realised that I needed to do something similar for the other candidates, otherwise I could be seen as favouring Kataraina, who in truth I did favour. I had met Kylie before, so it seemed natural enough to give her a little hug. The last candidate, Inka, for whom we had to arrange the bizarre interview in the airport Koru Lounge, was a slightly different matter. Should I hug this skinny, hospital white, Finnish woman? I did so and she seemed to respond well to it. What a strange feeling to hug that skinny frame!

The appointments committee was largely divided between the Kataraina camp and the Kylie camp. Inka was initially in last place, perhaps in part because of the truncated interview and the feeling we didn’t know her or understand her. But she demonstrated considerable energy, had the strongest publication record, had experience winning research funding as well as having a range of administrative experience. In the end, her position as the compromise candidate allowed her merits to shine through. A couple of the committee members suggested she would never accept the offer, which is not the best frame of mind in an appointments committee. I was just concerned she might lack any rapport with tangata whenua and not see the need to establish gender studies with a Māori and Pacific flavour. For all I knew, she was unconsciously, or even consciously, racist. But she did accept the offer without haggling and I knew that she would arrive in New Zealand from the Northern Hemisphere all alone and would need support and some aroha. I was fortunate that I was able to ask Vinnie to help her with some practical matters. But I needed to welcome her to the university family and why not to my own whanau?

Her remarkable weekend down here, while certainly disturbing, laid to rest any thought that she was uncomfortable with brown bodies! Oh, Hemi. I despair of you. If you could keep Moana, whether or not you deserve her, that would be the best thing that could happen to you. Tētahi wahine ātaahua! Ironically, Inka saw that immediately. And I don’t know if the night with Hemi was really what made Inka accept the curriculum review role, but it must have helped. I really didn’t have anyone else for the role. Each of the obvious candidates had too much of an axe to grind. And I was really stuck with Mikaere’s situation. He had a course to start in Auckland, not the one he told me, I now know, and commuting in from Tuakau was never going to work for him. Moreover, he was never going to find a place for himself in the city at short notice. So, in a practical way, it was an obvious move to suggest to Inka that he become her boarder. And they seem to have bonded, somewhat surprisingly.

Inka was good about the late enrolment of that graduate student for a directed study. I really should have asked her personally. It was odd that Sione insisted that I enrol her, which strictly he had no right to. But I was happy to defer to his mana, partly because I like him. Underneath his Oxford stuffiness and pedantry is a Tongan, a polynesian. Even though I don’t know him well, I feel there is a kind of bond between us. He is a man with many connections including New Zealand government connections. He was probably doing a favour for one of his influential friends.

What about Mikaere? I should try and have a kōrero with him. I don’t want to scold him for not telling me about his beauty technician course. I wonder what that really is like. Perhaps I can get him to tell me. The idea of him making up Inka’s face is amazing and hilarious. Perhaps I should go over to his room. He may be returning to the city pretty early tomorrow. I don’t want to miss having some private words with him.

I head across to Mikaere’s room. Hemi’s new motorcycle project is all over the floor close to the entrance. Hemi is not there, fortunately, but Mikaere must be in the bedroom section at the back. I call out to him.

“Kuhu mai, whaea,” he says, unknowingly echoing his brother. They are so different, but then their fathers are different. We sit in his bedroom, which is not as tidy as normal, as he is assembling things to take up to Inka’s house on Sunday. We have a very calm chat. He confirms that he is comfortable with Inka and thanks me for arranging for him to stay there. Quite right too, but it is sweet of him to say so. We touch on the matter of the course change and he is a bit sheepish about it, but tells me about the course and talks optimistically of his employment prospects. It is not what I had in mind for him. I suppose we shouldn’t interfere with our children’s dreams but it can be hard. Oh well, if that is where he wants to earn a living then so be it. It is very likely connected with his sense of his sexuality, but that goes unsaid. That might be a discussion for another day.