Balancing with a Taiaha

When I was little,
I’d watch from the creak of the door,
how she covered her lineage in a suit that was too tight for her to work in
but tight enough that it was suit able
as she’d mask her ethnicity in the makeup she gets
from the warehouse
though tears ruin the hard work.

With closed eyes she’d flicker back
to Nana’s hands on soft skinned face.
To the day where
fleshy palms parted from fleshy cheeks,
and faced toward gate 5.

When the world belonged to her.

And when the nurse took me out of the womb
and placed me on a tightrope,
she gave me a taiaha to make the balancing act easier.

A weapon like that can slay a Taniwha,
——–but can’t
—————-stab that smug look of yours
————————when you send me to the teacher who has
——————————–tech issues.

—————-Defend my humility as your
————————tongue lashed when my girl
——————————–didn’t look like me.

—————-Protect my honour when we passed
————————that dairy and called it
——————————–my origin.

——–Do you remember?

Been years since that fall,
when wild winds of change
lightly tipped me over
the edge of the rope.

I still have that Taiaha.
It sits in the corner of my room,
attracting dust like a lamp to the moth.

A weapon like that can slay a Taniwha
but can’t fend off the prejudices of this land.
So instead of fighting the wave after wave,
I’m reduced to just floating in the deep end.

The kiwi flag takes residence
where the flag of India used to be.
Dan Carter sits alongside
Jesus and Mother Mary.

Photos of my ancestors covered with cloth,
because we know they’ll shed the same look of disappointment
that we can speak more Māori
than their own mother tongue.

And when we returned to our motherland
I rushed to Nana with the greatest hug
like
——————————–I belonged in her arms.

But she placed her warm fleshy hands
on cheek to cheek,
and with her eyes she
peered
beyond
the dirt skin.

——–“Who are you?”

Raphael Ferdinands
Year 13
St John’s College, Hillcrest, Hamilton