Address in Reply

Kai te Manu Kōrero o te Ata, rau rangatira mā, ngā mana, ngā reo o te Whare Paremata nei, ā, tēnā koutou katoa. E taku iwi o Ngāti Kahungunu, taku rohe o Tāmaki-makau-rau i hara mai i tawhiti ki konei ki te tautoko i ahau i tēnei rangi, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa. Nā koutou ahau i whakatōkia ki rō Paremata, tēnei ahau, tēnā koutou.

[An interpretation in English was given to the House.]

[Madam Speaker and indeed to the many representatives, authorities, and languages of this House of Parliament, greetings to you all. To my Ngāti Kahungunu people, as well as to those of you from my Tāmaki-makau-rau electorate who came here today to support me, thank you, and thank you all. You were responsible for putting me here in Parliament and so here I am. Thank you all for that.]

It is not my intention today to talk about myself or my journey to this place. Neither do I intend to discuss the positive initiatives for Māori that it has been my pleasure to be associated with. Instead, I choose to talk today about certain negative views and beliefs expressed by MPs that have served to promote a negative stereotype about Māori and Māori culture within the community. I do so to clear the air, so that we may build strong relationships in this House and work together for a better New Zealand.

It is common knowledge that Māori do not enjoy the same socio-economic and educational benefits as non-Māori in this, their country of origin. It strikes me as somewhat amazing that half the country, and probably half the members of this House, actually believe that Māori are the privileged group in our society. Cries of racial funding, gravy trains, and special courses are constant within these walls, and are eagerly published by every arm of the media to promote a negative stereotype of Māori. If Māori are the privileged group, why, in my electorate, are Māori not living in prime locations like Kohimārama, St Heliers, and Mission Bay? Conversely, why are they clustered in State housing sectors inland? Does privilege mean that we Māori dominate certain illnesses such as diabetes, heart disease, asthma, glue ear, and others, and that we die 10 years earlier than Pākehā? Or is our real privilege to be revealed in this country’s disgusting incarceration figures? I say “disgusting” because in 1980 one in 1,000 New Zealanders was in jail, and in the early 1990s one in 800 was in jail. Today one in 570 New Zealanders is in jail, but for Māori, the privileged group, one person in 180 is in jail.

So I ask this House why Māori are being promoted so negatively by politicians, the media, and, consequently, by non-thinking redneck New Zealanders. How can that be good for our future as a nation? Why were Māori used as a political football in this past election campaign? Uninformed criticism of Māori cultural icons such as the pōwhiri, the poroporoaki, te reo Māori and waiata Māori was prominent in election campaign speeches. But the big question for me is this: why is there so much resistance among parliamentarians to accepting the concept of tangata whenua as significant in our country’s administration and in our history? We learn about the events of world history and about the cultural origins of countries’ customs. Where is the recognition of the 1,000-year bond between Māori and these islands? Why do we accept the world’s history and not our own?

The Spanish Inquisition, the French Revolution, the Battle of Waterloo, Plato, Aristotle, Socrates—we know about all those things; we know about those people. So what of Toi Kairākau, of Rauru? What of my history, my tangata whenua-ness, my 1,000 missing years? Toi Kairākau crossed the Pacific and came to New Zealand. At the same time, Eric the Red was expelled from Iceland and voyaged to Greenland. Toi Kairākau is my ancestor; he still lives, in me. His history and genealogy is my history and genealogy, my bonding to these islands of Aotearoa. Toi’s son was Rauru; his son was Whātonga. From Whātonga came Tahaiti; from Tahaiti came Uenuku. At the time of Uenuku, William of Normandy conquered England and became King William I. From Uenuku came Ruatapu; from Ruatapu came Rākeiora; from Rakeiora came Tama ki Te Hau. Those are my ancestors—tangata whenua—and the ancestor Tama ki Te Hau lived at the time of the great military leader Genghis Khan, who established the Mongol empire, uniting almost all of Asia and Europe. My genealogy descends to Tama ki Te Rā and Tame ki Te Mātangi—and now the Magna Carta is signed on the other side of the world.

I continue my whakapapa by naming Tama ki Reireia, Te Kāhuārero, Pito, Rere, Tangi, Maika, Toto, and Tamatea Arikinui. Tamatea Arikinui brought the tapu canoe of Tākitimu across the Pacific. He is the eponymous ancestor of all descendents of the Tākitimu waka and I ascend from him, and so do half the people up there in the gallery. At this time, history records the crusade of Joan of Arc of France, who was burnt at the stake aged 19 years. From Tamatea Arikinui came Rongokākō; from Rongokākō came Tamatea Pōkai Whenua. His son was Kahungunu. Kahungunu was the founding ancestor of my tribe, Ngāti Kahungunu. Then came Kahukuranui, Rākaihikuroa, and Tarāia. Taraia led the migration of my people, Kahungunu, from Wairoa south to the Napier-Hastings area. That is my history. At the same time Columbus stumbled upon America.

I move on from Tarāia to Te Rangi Tūmaha to Te Huhuti. Te Huhuti married Te Whātuiāpiti. He was a great war chief. He had red hair. Those are the eponymous ancestors of our subtribe, Ngāti Te Whātuiāpiti. Then came Te Wawahanga, Rangikawhiua, Te Manawakawa, and Te Rangikōianake, and at that time Cromwell overthrew the British monarchy and declared a republic. All that is history. Te Rangikoianake is the ancestor of the subtribe Ngāti Rangikōianake of Te Haukē. Also my grandson carries his name and his spirit. His eldest son was Te Kikiri o te Rangi, another chief—another famous war chief, another redhead. He led many successful forays to avenge the deaths of his two grandfathers. He is the eponymous ancestor of my subtribe, Ngāi Te Kikiri o te Rangi. And the genealogy continues, from Kanohi Tū Hanga, to Te Aroatua, Hōri Niania, and Paora Kōpūkau Niania. He was my grandfather, and his name and his spirit are carried by my son, who is here today and in whom I also live. From Paora came my mother, Ruihā, and then me. This is my history. This is tangata whenua, and this is New Zealand, history. This is our history.

I have chosen to use this time to explain to members the importance of the concept of tangata whenua. I do so because I believe that the future of New Zealand is deeply intertwined with the future of Māoridom, and is, in the eyes of the global community, uniquely intertwined with the idea of this nation. In a world increasingly homogenised by global commerce, migration, communications, travel, and trade, Māoridom provides an enduring point of difference that other cultures envy—a difference we must preserve. For this nation to thrive economically, culturally, and with a sense of social justice, Māori must be able to play a full role in all parts of society, not only as leaders, educators, artists, business chiefs, and sporting champions, but as citizens whose rights, culture, and fundamental worth are valued and supported. Although Māori have made great strides within kaupapa Māori initiatives, the reality of equality for Māori is still far off.

We all, here in Parliament, must now work towards a society that embraces Māori culture as well as the people, a society where Māori are able to enjoy their health and education whilst also enjoying being Māori, where te reo Māori can be heard on the streets and in the shops by all people—free equality for Māori. I firmly believe that by increased dialogue across parties we, as a group of responsible parliamentarians, can do much to combat the negative stereotypes that serve to lock many Māori into a negative poverty mindset. We can be emancipatory.

What is clear to me, though, is that there must be no more trashing of Māori people and of Māori rights, and indeed there must be no more obstruction of due process in the manner of the foreshore and seabed legislation. The entire country was led to believe that such a law was appropriate and fair, but, firstly, the decision to legislate was made by a few people, without consulting with the Māori Ministers and Māori members of the Government. Their opinions were not sought until after the decision to legislate had been made. Secondly, the legislation produced the single greatest act of confiscation to date, and that occurred during the time of the Treaty settlements.

“Wā-ā, ko te Kāwanatanga wā tā ringa ka-tau utua raupatu,

Wā-ā tā ringa ma-auī tāhae taku tai moana – e!”

[“Alas, it was the right hand of the Government that imposed confiscation upon me, and now its left hand has stolen my seashores – woe is me!”]

The right hand pays out for last century’s confiscations, but the left hand steals more land.

Thirdly, public support for that legislation was sought by promoting the idea that Māori would stop public access to the beaches and, furthermore, might sell the asset offshore. I would like to remind the House that Māori culture is inclusive and not exclusive, and that Māori leaders who represented a population of more than 100,000 signed a contract at Waitangi on 6 February 1840 with a people numbering only 2,000. It allowed that people not only to access and emigrate to our islands but to establish a Government as well—surely a generous and an inclusive offer. Then, to add insult to insult, the Government used its Māori MPs to sell that bill to the people. The final act of the Government was to disregard the United Nations report condemning the legislation as racist.

I want the people of this Parliament to understand that the hurt to my people in that matter was very, very deep. To be regarded as not worthy of a voice, to be called “haters and wreckers”, and to be held in contempt and ridicule cut even deeper than the legislation itself. That absolute disregard for Māori, for our views, for our customs, and for our mana, will not—will not—be allowed to happen again. With regard to the foreshore and seabed, I say that that Act must be repealed. Primary issues of due process, of property rights, and of customary rights must be preserved. Questions surrounding access and alienation can be handled in a variety of other ways. It is my party’s intention to seek this House’s support for our member’s bill to repeal that Act.

I now wish to acknowledge my co-leader, Tariana Turia. Her courage and integrity in opposing that legislation and her standing down from the Government were acts of heroism. Her stand against the pressure of her Māori colleagues and of the Government leadership inspired us to establish the Māori Party. I say to Tariana Turia that the people salute her and that they have voted us in to support her. No more, then! No more!

I look forward therefore to working positively with everyone in this House, and towards empowering all our communities so they can realise their potential. My hopes are to ensure that being Māori is something to be proud of, and that Māori—like all New Zealanders—can enjoy a good measure of health and wealth, and can participate when required as global citizens yet still live as Māori in these islands.

Nā reira ki a kōtōu katoa kua hara mai nei ki te tautoko i ahau, koi nā taku karere mō tēnei rangi, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, thank you, thank you, kia ora!

[And so I say to all of you who came here to support me, that’s my message for today. Thank you, thank you and good health!]

Waiata

Haka

Te Rangatira o tēnei Whare tēnā koe! Ngā mema nei o tēnei Pāremata, tēnā koutou. E ngā iwi katoa, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, kia ora koutou katoa.

[Greetings to you Madam Speaker. Greetings as well to members of this Parliament. And to everyone else, greetings, greetings, and greetings to you all.]

It is a privilege to stand and present my inaugural speech to this forty-eighth New Zealand Parliament. I begin by offering my congratulations to you, Madam Speaker, on your election to your position as Speaker of this House. I know that your training while chairing unruly annual conferences of the Labour Party in difficult times has stood you in fine stead for this position. I look forward to your continued management of this Chamber with the fairness, competence, and style with which I am so familiar from your previous role as president of the Labour Party. I wish also to recognise the Governor-General and the dignity, propriety, and calm that she brings to that office. I acknowledge the Speech from the Throne, and I celebrate the outline of this Labour-led Government’s intentions for its next historic term of office.

I stood in the last election in the constituency of Taranaki - King Country—that well-known bastion of Labour votes! I pay a tribute here to my National Party opponent, the sitting member for Taranaki - King Country, Shane Ardern. Although knowing I was never going to be a huge threat to his tenure in that seat, he engaged in the campaign with respect and decorum, knowing that the process we were engaged in was bigger than both of us. I appreciated his consistent courtesy and his firm commitment to playing the ball, not the player.

My congratulations go to him on his success in the election result, and my thanks go to the members of my campaign team, especially Andrew, Lesley, Shane, and Ingrid for all their support.

My political awakenings derive from that area. Two significant events in my teenage years impacted upon me permanently and fixed my political direction forever. The first was the Viet Nam War. My very first political action was to participate in a public march against the war organised by a well-known Quaker couple in my home town of New Plymouth in 1969.

The second event occurred over a longer period of time, but is set in my memory as a singular event. It was learning about Queen Elizabeth I from my extraordinary English and history teacher at New Plymouth Girls High School, Ida Gaskin. Apart from being a Shakespearian Mastermind twice, and the most outstanding of English teachers, Ida had the ability to bring history alive. In that seventh-form year when she asked me in class whether I thought I was a Whig or a Tory, she made me realise that knowledge was never neutral. Knowledge requires a response; one cannot know something and not be altered by it. In case members were wondering, I answered that I thought I was a Whig. Ida did not let on that she thought that that was the right answer.

My Presbyterian upbringing in New Plymouth left me with an enduring legacy, as well—a burning passion for social justice. That fundamental sense of fairness and equal treatment, which we pride ourselves on having as a national characteristic, drove me through all my previous working lives as a young secondary school teacher, a trade unionist, an academic, and an industrial relations practitioner. It is that continuing desire to see social justice manifest in New Zealand, through its human rights, its economic structures, its equal opportunities for all regardless of accidents of birth, and its legal system, that has driven me to this place.

My most recent working life has been in health, housing, and Treaty settlements, and, with apologies to St Paul, the greatest of these is Treaty settlements. Each of these areas is shot through with issues of social justice. I enter this Parliament as a list MP; I am proud and honoured to do so. List MPs in particular represent the change to our democratic processes that was ushered in by the electoral referendum of 1993. I supported MMP because I considered then, as I do now, that it had a better chance of delivering a fairer and more representative Parliament and decision-making structure than the previous first-past-the-post system.

Democratic participation has long been a subject of immense interest and passion for me. My never-to-be-finished doctoral thesis was about participation in the workplace and the resulting preparation of workers for full participation as citizens. The basic idea was that if one educates a worker in the ways of participation in workplace decision-making, one educates a citizen for participation in the wider polity.

I take this opportunity to dwell on the nature of democracy, because if it is not done in this place of all places, democracy will be at risk everywhere. At the core of democracy are human rights, which have, at least in our country, become inalienable. These are: the right to participate in elections—extended, uniquely, to women in New Zealand before any other self-governing nation in the world—the right to freedom of expression, the right to be treated equally before the law, and the right of the media to operate without interference and political coercion.

These are fundamental aspects of democracy that are by no means experienced universally. They are rights and also privileges for which wars have been fought and lives have been lost, and the fight continues. Just as we went to our polls in our free democratic elections in September of this year, the former president of the Czech Republic Vaclav Havel and the Archbishop Emeritus of Cape Town Desmond Tutu were releasing their report to the UN Security Council entitled: Threat to the Peace: A Call for the UN Security Council to Act in Burma. One of my political heroes isAung San Suu Kyi, the leader of the democratic movement in Burma, and “the world’s only imprisoned Nobel Peace Prize laureate”, in the words of the report. She has consistently kept the flame of democracy alive, through the National League for Democracy, against extraordinary opposition. Having won the elections resoundingly in 1990 with 80 percent of the seats in Parliament, the National League for Democracy was never allowed to take up office, and Aung San Suu Kyi has remained under house arrest in Burma since 1990, with occasional periods of release. Burma needs the international community’s attention and support if it is to become a free, independent, and productive nation. Burma is the new South Africa.

There are other just as significant yardsticks of a democratic society. One is the existence of strong trade unions, independent of employer or political patronage, and free to affiliate with political allies or not, as they see fit. Another is the existence of political parties, without which political organisation and expression are unfocused and disparate at best, and chaotic at worst. Some might consider that unfocused political chaos happens anyway, but I am sure from my own experience as the president of the Labour Party, that having political parties that come from strong philosophical and political traditions, such as the Labour Party does, provides citizens with something to vote for, or against, as they choose. Having such an organised expression of political commitment enhances the political process and allows citizens to participate intelligently and meaningfully in it.

Another yardstick of democratic society is its treatment of minorities. This is not a new thought; it is a truism. But in recent times it has taken on a new relevance in New Zealand. The shabby, slovenly thinking behind the detractors of what is pejoratively termed “political correctness” must be seen for the crass political opportunism that it is. Pushing people to the margins of our society and then despising them for being there—purportedly in the interests of the great, ill-defined “mainstream”—serves our democracy badly. All New Zealanders would be much better served if mainstream society was seen for what it is: a loose conglomeration of varying interests, all seeking to move forward peacefully and profitably within the laws of the land, to improve their lot and the lot of others.

The true measure of the democratic State, however, is not in its treatment of the majority, but in the respect, rights, and opportunities it affords its minorities. If any are barred from opportunities by virtue of their gender, colour, race, religious tradition, sexuality, disability, trade union affiliation, or political beliefs, then we are not a true democracy. If any are allowed to be excluded or despised by virtue of any of the characteristics I have just listed, then our democracy is less than it should be. This is not about a Government telling people what to think. It is not about saying which jokes are permissible and which are not. This is about basic respect for others who may be different in some identifiable respect but who seek the same law-abiding, improving quality of life in this country that most people seek.

A strong, self-confident democracy is one that recognises, embraces, and values diversity. Only a cringing, unassertive democracy retains its power by excluding others and stripping them of their place in it. As a lesbian, I have often been the subject of other people’s efforts to push me to the margins, to erode my legitimacy as a citizen, and to belittle my efforts and achievements. I have never accepted marginalisation; it is a construct of others who wish me to be marginalised. It is not where I see myself or the many others like me. But it has always required courage, and I have not come into this House to be less than brave about the human rights of those whom some would seek to marginalise.

I seek an inclusive, just, and tolerant society as one that is more likely to be peaceful, productive, and safe for our children to grow up in. A pluralist society is stable because of its differences, not despite them. It is the very differences between people, working together peacefully and with respect for each other, that allow a society to remain strong and cohesive. The hallmarks of a society that excludes and marginalises people for whatever reason are instability, disharmony, intolerance, and violence—and that is not the society I seek for our children. Those who would dismiss these sentiments as political correctness need to rethink their reasons for doing so, because their aim can only be to create a fragmented, divisive, and hateful society. The reason for doing that escapes me completely.

I want every child to have the opportunity to be what they can most fully be. Sometimes that means that we have to apply resources inequitably in order to bring young people up to the same starting line. I do not resile from that. I do not call it preferential treatment, and I do not call it political correctness. I call it fairness or social justice. I want women and children to be able to live, move, work, and play safely in our communities. I do not resile from that. I do not call it feminist extremism, and I do not call it political correctness. I call it fairness or social justice. I want a growing productive economy that can lift the living standards of all people in New Zealand so that there is no child in desperate need, no substandard housing, and no illnesses of poverty. That is social justice, too.

Finally, I want to pay a few personal tributes. First, I acknowledge the presence in this Parliament of my predecessors in the Labour Party presidency: the Hon Jim Anderton, yourself, Madam Speaker, and the Hon Ruth Dyson. I have learnt a great deal from each of these people and celebrate all their past and ongoing contributions to making this country a fairer and more compassionate place. I hope I can maintain that tradition worthily.

I also pay a tribute to Helen Duncan whose position on the Labour Party list I took. I hope I will carry on the work she did and the values she reflected in this place. She has been a battler with me on common issues for a very long time. I pay tribute to her for her work for women, for workers, and for trade unionists. To my daughter, who is a case study on her own for lowering the voting age to 14, I say thank you for supporting me in being here today. I fail if I do not help Aotearoa New Zealand to become a better place for you to live in.

It is a privilege to be here. My fervent hope is that I use whatever time I have here usefully to further social justice for all, for which the Labour Party stands. Kia ora koutou katoa.

Madam Speaker, may I offer my congratulations to you on your re-election as Speaker and congratulate Clem Simich on his role as Deputy Speaker. In relative terms, I have known Clem a short time, only about 8 or 9 years. He probably does not know it, but he influenced my decision to run for Parliament. He has always held himself with dignity and integrity, and that is an example to us all. I wish you both all the best. If the first few days of this parliamentary session are a measure of what is to come, then you both have a very challenging job, to say the least, ahead of you.

I have been overwhelmed by the warmth and generosity of the response to my election to Parliament. I am greatly moved by the attendance here this afternoon of friends and family who have contributed to my life’s experiences and have supported me through the good times and the bad. Others who have worked so hard to support me are listening over the airwaves from many parts of New Zealand The best way I can thank them is to go forward in this new role with vigour and enthusiasm and maintain my integrity.

I proudly call myself Māori. I proudly call myself European. But I most proudly call myself a New Zealander. I am of Tainui descent, but consider myself urban Māori. A lot has been said over the past few years of the “browning” of New Zealand. There are many different shades of brown. I am very proud of my heritage. I grew up with a picture of Tāwhiao on the wall, and later in life I gained, via my grandmother, knowledge of our Māori history. I was raised as a New Zealander. I did not grow up using Māori language or really understanding tikanga Māori. However, under the guidance of my parents I grew up with a strong sense of self-responsibility, and a sense that one was master of one’s own ship; that the true measure of a person was not only how he or she handled himself or herself day to day, but perhaps more important, how he or she dealt with adversity and the many challenges that life seems to throw our way.

I do not consider myself tribal, but I do have a very real sense of who I am and where I came from. It was not until I was at university as a mature student that I connected with my Māori self. I realised then that I had always felt it. It is difficult to put into words, but I feel Māori blood running through my veins. I feel the power of my ancestors when I stand on a marae, or hear a pōwhiri or a waiata. But I am urban. I believe that we are all equal and should be treated equally before the laws of this great country. I do not think for one moment that because I have Māori ancestry my love of New Zealand and my affinity for this land is any stronger than someone whose ancestors may have arrived here after some of mine.

We are all so privileged to live in an open democracy and have rights from birth as residents. All rights should be equal for all New Zealanders. I meet New Zealanders every day who feel the same as I do. They are part-Māori and feel comfortable in their shade of brown, but they live in today’s world and do not feel comfortable with the growing sense of separation between Māori and other New Zealanders. I for one am grateful for the Treaty. I believe that it has been a founding document and has helped us to move forward as one people. There can be little doubt in modern New Zealand that there were wrongs in the past that needed to be righted, and I am proud to be part of a National Party that started the process of addressing historical Treaty grievances. And there are some wrongs that still need to be righted, but we need to move forward. We need to settle claims quickly and then see the Treaty for the historical document that it is and move forward, as was always intended, as one people.

Although born in Auckland, I grew up in Kinloch, a beautiful bay on the shores of Lake Taupō where I learnt to fish and hunt and had a relatively carefree and easy childhood. It was a predominantly male household, and like many of its time, was rather traditional in its values. I was treated differently from my brothers purely because I was a female. And so I learnt to fight for what I believed in. I rallied against the sometimes only perceived injustice of it all and found that I had a voice. With women at record levels in tertiary education, and, in many ways, outdoing boys academically, we seem to have come so far. But now there are some questions that we need to ask.

I want to be part of a Government that opens up discussion on the type of society we want to be in the future and the role the family plays in modern New Zealand society. It is not individual pieces of legislation that have been passed recently that I rally against; it is the fact that this House of Representatives does not lead the discussion by encouraging open debate about what direction we want our country to go in. As we are pushed to increase women’s participation in the workforce we need to ask who will be raising our next generation. A lot of women are saying that they would like to; that staying at home and raising their children is an option they would not only like to have but one they would like to be actively encouraged to do.

More women are in paid employment than ever before, and their contribution is immeasurable. However, when we hear of someone, currently working, who becomes pregnant, one of our first questions is: “How long will she be taking off work?” There is a subtle—and sometimes not so subtle—push for women to return to the workforce as soon as possible. But I ask members not to misunderstand me. I advocate for choice—for women to work part time or full time in paid work, or not at all, or to stay at home and raise their children. Most men make wonderful fathers. We should let them have a choice about the role they play in raising their family. Most of all, we should let parents have choices. Families come in all shapes and sizes, and no one formula will suit everyone, so we should stop presuming that it does.

A good Government stays out of people’s homes. I would never have wanted anyone to tell me how to raise my daughter, and I would never presume to tell someone else how to raise his or her family. All parents, regardless of the make-up of their families or their economic situation, want what is best for their children. The role that Government has to play in this is to provide an education system that sees all children develop to the best of their ability, a health system that supports its citizens in their times of need, and a welfare system that supports people when they cannot support themselves. A good Government does not come into parents’ homes and tell them how to raise their children. It does not provide welfare to middle New Zealanders and package it as a scheme that “works for families”. It does not push through legislation that may change the very fabric of our society without asking us what type of society we want to live in and without openly encouraging debate on the issue.

I have first-hand experience of knowing what if feels like to believe that one has few choices in life. Like many other strong and outspoken teenagers, I took an unfortunate turn in my teenage years. I found myself mixing with the wrong people and making some poor decisions. As a consequence, over 18 years ago I found myself to be an uneducated, unemployed, young solo mother with very few opportunities ahead of me. It was not an easy time. I found myself living day to day, with my primary focus being one of survival. But I also had a strong sense of self-responsibility. I felt that it was my decision to have my daughter and, as such, it was my responsibility to raise and support her, not the taxpayer’s.

I had short stints on a benefit, but I knew that being in paid work was the only way for us to try to get ahead. In the early days I worked two jobs. One was a part-time job I did during the day at the local harbour, organising fishing and sightseeing trips for tourists. The other job was at the local diner, where I worked the midnight to 8 o’clock shift serving food to truck drivers while my daughter slept. By the age of 19 I had bought my own very humble house in Taupō. There were days, weeks, and months of real struggle. I knew I could not keep going like that, but I also knew that only I could change my and my daughter’s life.

Upon the untimely death of a much-loved brother, I found the courage to move to Auckland and make a new life. Living in west Auckland, I initially washed dishes at a local rest home, before being promoted after 6 months to the role of nurse-aide. The most significant thing that happened to me at this time was that I met people who told me that I should get an education. I had never considered university as an option, but the seed was planted, and I knew that if I did not make a significant change, then I would find myself in exactly the same situation of day-to-day struggle for the rest of my life.

I was accepted into Massey University Albany Campus as a mature student and quickly found myself involved in student politics. I was the first female student president at Albany, and I was responsible for getting many services up and running at the then new campus. These may seem like small accomplishments, and in the scheme of it all they are, but they changed my life. They proved that I could advocate on behalf of others, that sometimes, with the right argument and the right pressure, commonsense just might prevail, and that I could make a difference.

After completing university I worked as an electorate agent for a few years before leaving to work in the private sector, initially as a recruitment consultant, and then, in my final role before coming here, as a manager for a human solutions company. My daughter is now 18 years old, and I am incredibly proud of her and our relationship. Some might say I was lucky, but luck had nothing to do with it. It took hard work, determination, the ability to bounce back after the knocks, and a lot of love. So the values that I hold true to—self-responsibility, hard work, and reward for effort—made it an easy decision to join the National Party.

With unemployment levels at their lowest in many years, we should also be seeing reduced numbers of those receiving welfare. But we are not. The number of people receiving benefits is still way too high, and the cost to taxpayers is huge. The financial costs are not what should concern us most. Our concern should lie with what it is doing to our culture, and the lack of aspiration and self-esteem that many beneficiaries feel. There were times in those early days when I made less money in paid employment than I would have if I had been on the domestic purposes benefit. But I knew I had to start somewhere, and it was very important to me that I set a positive example for my daughter. I am grateful that there was a benefit system for me to fall back on when I needed it, but welfare needs to be seen as a backstop—a hand up until people are able to stand on their own two feet.

I support an initiative that would see those who are on the domestic purposes benefit in some sort of part-time employment, retraining, or community service when their youngest child reaches school age. Raising our next generation is, without doubt, the most important job those parents will do, but we equally have a responsibility to instil in our children a sense of ambition and aspiration. My own life experiences have shown me that taking responsibility for myself and my own, and getting into paid employment—no matter how lowly paid—was the stepladder to a better life and the only way to escape the welfare trap.

I want to work on implementing systems that will encourage welfare beneficiaries to have choices, because a life of dependency gives none. That cannot happen by the will of a parent alone. Employers need to get with the programme and offer part-time work that fits in with school hours, flexibility for parents with children who may be unwell or need a bit more attention at times, and an understanding that some of those workers may need retraining.

It is with enthusiasm, a touch of cynicism, and a bit of trepidation that I step forward to take on my new role as a member of Parliament. I feel extremely fortunate to be based in the beautiful and wild west Auckland. People in west Auckland are my kind of people—determined, innovative, creative, and gutsy. West Auckland is like most areas in Auckland in that it is made up of Māori, Pacific peoples, Europeans, Indians, many Asian groups, Croatians, and a myriad of other nationalities. People drive Holdens and BMWs, and they do not all have haircuts like Pita Sharples, but some do. Their issues are not unlike those faced by people in many cities across New Zealand, as they raise families and try to get to and from work in a grid-locked roading and transport system that needs urgent improvement to keep up with their needs.

I never thought I would be a member of the House of Representatives, but I did know that I would not lead a passive life. I was always going to be an active participant, and as I have such an aversion to physical activity I was never going to become a Silver Fern, so I had to use my brain and my mouth. I feel a great sense of responsibility, but I know that I have something to offer, and I will actively play my part in helping to shape New Zealand’s future. I stand before this House as a New Zealander—as a Māori and as a European, as a solo mother, as a graduate, and as a woman. I know that it is how I face the upcoming challenges as a member of Parliament that will be the measure of me as a person.

Madam Speaker, I congratulate you on your election as Speaker and wish you all the best for the term of this Parliament. Our paths have crossed before, on the Rules Committee of the High Court and on the Council of Legal Education. I enjoyed working with you on those committees and I look forward to working with you in Parliament. I note that some commentators have been speculating that you could be appointed to the Supreme Court. I hope, however, that you remain on this side of Molesworth Street.

I also congratulate the mover and the seconder of the Address in Reply. I think they spoke very well, although I disagree with most of what they said. I look forward to debating Treaty issues with Mr Jones in the course of this Parliament. One issue I think Parliament will need to revisit very soon is Māori fisheries. The Maori Fisheries Act is destroying the fruits of the settlement won for Māori in 1992 by that great New Zealander, Sir Tīpene O’Regan. It is not Treaty settlement legislation but welfarism and bureaucracy, and it needs substantial amendment.

I acknowledge the Hon Winnie Laban, my Labour opponent in Mana. I congratulate her on her good win in Mana and her appointment as a Minister. The member for Mana was a worthy opponent. Unlike many politicians, she debates the issues but does not get personal. I commend her example to the House and, particularly, to the Deputy Prime Minister. Out of familial loyalty, I also congratulate the member for Rongotai on her new responsibilities. If one has to have relatives on the other side, then I am lucky to have the member for Rongotai.

I also take this opportunity to express my thanks to Joel George and Parliamentary Service staff for all the help they have provided to new MPs in the last few weeks. Becoming an MP is a daunting experience, but my transition to parliamentary life has been greatly assisted by the work done by Mr George and his team.

I am proud to be a member of the National Party, which I joined in 1974. I joined the party because I particularly liked and admired my local MP, Sir John Marshall. I spent my early years in the party working for Hugh Templeton, the former MP for Ohariu. Hugh was a fine MP and Minister, whose contribution to this country has never been properly recognised. I have held most administrative offices in the party except president—a position currently held by a fine New Zealander, Judy Kirk. I acknowledge today her huge contribution to the National Party and thank her for all she has done.

Next year will be the 70th anniversary of the formation of the National Party, which was formed from the remnants of the old Reform Party and United Party. It is the true heir to the liberal and conservative traditions of New Zealand politics. On 8 July 1947 Sir John Marshall gave his maiden speech as MP for Mount Victoria. In that speech he outlined his adherence to the principles of liberalism and the liberal tradition. Almost 60 years later, that speech reads very well, and the principles that Sir John outlined are still relevant to the National Party today. I have the right to live my own life in my own way, provided only that this does not interfere with the rights of others. I should be free to do so as I wish, subject only to the rule of law. The classic conservative has a deep suspicion of the power of the State, prefers liberty to equality, is patriotic, believes in established institutions and hierarchies, and is sceptical about the idea of progress. The National Party takes the best of liberalism and conservatism. So, for example, a classical conservative Government would not have pursued the Treaty settlement policy advanced by the Bolger administration in the 1990s. That great work was liberal conservatism in action. As Benjamin Disraeli once said, his ideal Government would be made up of Tory politicians and Whig policies.

Some contend that conservatism and liberalism are unhappy partners, and that today the Labour Party is really the natural home of the liberal. I disagree. The Labour Party’s philosophy is, in fact, opposed to liberalism. The left may have admitted that the right won the great economic debate of the 20th century and that socialism in its various forms has failed, but the left still wants to regulate and control. Only they know best. There is a huge difference between being a liberal and being a socialist or social democrat.

What I want to do now is consider a practical application of liberal conservative principles to what I think are some of the issues facing New Zealand in the early years of the 21st century. In the time available it is impossible to deal with all issues so I intend to focus on constitutional and legal issues.

First, the rule of law. The liberal conservative believes that the rule of law is fundamental to our society and is to be nurtured and safeguarded. Important ingredients of the rule of law include respect for the judiciary, careful lawmaking by Parliament, and, where necessary, sensible law reform. I do not think politicians today show enough respect for the judiciary. All too often politicians promote badly drafted legislation, which is either too prescriptive at one extreme or too vague at the other, then expect judges to interpret those laws to their satisfaction. But when the judge gives a judgment that may not please the politician, the politician starts complaining about activist judges encouraged by lawyers who are the only ones to make any money out of the process—I cannot see what the complaint is there!

Lawyers would make less money, and judges’ lives would be easier if the work product of Parliament improved. Vague formulaic references to Treaty principles, for example, constitute poor lawmaking. On numerous occasions in my career, I have made submissions to judges trying to interpret references to Treaty principles in a particular context. This is because politicians did not give proper consideration to the implications of the language they used in legislation. More care needs to be taken to ensure that legislation is carefully drafted and that it reflects the intention of Parliament.

Another important aspect of the rule of law is meaningful and timely law reform. Some years ago former Prime Minister Sir Geoffrey Palmer was asked to evaluate the Law Commission. His report was released in April 2000, and I refer to the following extract: “A fundamental change of attitude to law reform is required. Law reform has been neglected in recent years. New Zealand will suffer if proper repairs and renovations to its statute laws are not performed. The law needs to be kept up to date to reflect developments in new technology and business practices. New Zealand is probably falling behind its trading partners in this respect.”

Five years have passed and nothing has happened. Sir Geoffrey’s recommendations have been ignored and, in particular, his recommendation that the Attorney-General should be explicitly tasked with overall responsibility for the legal system and its operations, and that the Law Commission should be transferred to the Attorney-General away from the Ministry of Justice. The Attorney-General would then be the Minister for Law Reform. Lack of law reform is a very serious issue that must be addressed by the new Attorney-General. Given that he is a lawyer and not a former history teacher, I hope he will see the need to provide leadership on this issue.

The liberal conservative respects the institutions of the State. An important constitutional issue we may have to deal with in the next 20 years is whether New Zealand remains a monarchy. Whatever the future outcome of that all-important constitutional debate, we must continue to respect the Crown. That does not mean, however, that the role of the Crown and its representative, the Governor-General, cannot be debated. I was in Canberra last Friday, which was the 30th anniversary of Gough Whitlam’s sacking by Sir John Kerr. The role of the Governor-General in that momentous event is still being vigorously debated, particularly by the Australian Labor Party.

However, I take exception to increasing prime ministerial domination of the functions of the Governor-General—in particular, the tendency for a Prime Minister to undertake certain ceremonial functions of State that previously had been discharged by the Governor-General. These ceremonial hijacks are wrong. As one Australian commentator has said, politicians who attempt to capture some ceremonial moment of national importance are also attempting to attach to themselves some element of public legitimacy, and to strengthen the degree of identification between themselves and the State. By so doing, they seek to enhance their personal and political prestige.

The liberal conservative is positive about New Zealand’s ability to settle Treaty issues finally, expeditiously, and justly. For many years I was involved in Treaty litigation. In particular, I acted for Ngāi Tahu in its claim against the Crown. The proudest moment of my professional career was being at Kaikōura on 21 November 1997, when former Prime Minister Jim Bolger and Sir Tīpene O’Regan for Ngāi Tahu signed the deed of settlement. Since then, Ngāi Tahu has gone from strength to strength, and is now a major economic and social force in the South Island. The National Party can be very proud of its work with Māori over the years. The legacy of National Ministers like Ralph Hanan and Sir Douglas Graham is an outstanding one.

If, however, New Zealand is to complete the Treaty settlement phase of its history within a reasonable time, much more needs to be done. In particular, the Waitangi Tribunal needs to be properly resourced, both financially and in human terms, so that it can complete its very important task. I also think the Crown needs to show more energy in negotiating settlements with iwi. The Crown’s lethargic and bureaucratic approach to settlement negotiations needs to change. It seems clear that Parliament will be revisiting the Foreshore and Seabed Act—another masterpiece of the Deputy Prime Minister. I think we do need to review this legislation. My personal view is that if one respects the rule of law, due process, and property rights, that legislation is unfair and discriminatory. It should not be beyond the wit of politicians of goodwill to work together to devise a more acceptable model. New Zealanders should not be divided on this issue.

The liberal conservative is a realist, motivated in the end by what is in New Zealand’s national interest. He or she is not imprisoned by ideas or prejudices formed in one’s adolescence that stay throughout adulthood. An example of this affliction is the way many people in this country dislike the United States. This dislike was formed during the Viet Nam War when they were anti-war activists and when, as Ronald Reagan said of some protesters at Berkeley: “They acted like Tarzan, looked like Jane, and smelt like Cheetah.” That dislike affects some politicians today, preventing them from acting in New Zealand’s interests. They have grown older, but they have not grown up. It is time there was a complete reappraisal of New Zealand’s relationship with the United States, based solely on what is in New Zealand’s interests.

Finally, the liberal conservative is an optimist, who does not view the governance of New Zealand as a grim and humourless task to be undertaken without any generosity of spirit, who does not feel the need to have informants strategically placed in the bureaucracy and Government-appointed boards to ensure that everyone obeys, and who does not think she has a monopoly on high-mindedness. The liberal conservative is concerned with governing in the public good and the national interest, confident in the knowledge that this is a great country full of talented and decent people and that the enterprise is worthwhile. As someone said to me in the course of the campaign, other countries have problems; New Zealand has a project—an exciting, sometimes difficult, but none the less achievable project.

After spending years sitting on the sidelines watching others have their go, I now enter the arena, willing and able to work for New Zealand. Winston Churchill once observed that he preferred the past to the present, and the present to the future. I could not disagree more. I look forward to the future and to its challenges.

Tēnā koutou, kia ora tātou katoa. It is an honour to speak for the first time in the House, and I take pleasure in congratulating you, Madam Speaker, on your election as Speaker of the House. I congratulate my fellow new MPs on their election, and those who have been re-elected to this Parliament. I celebrate the return of a Labour-led Government, led by Prime Minister Helen Clark, and I look forward to 3 more years of social and economic progress for the peoples of our country.

I send love to my whānau who are here today and to those who cannot be here but who are listening. I particularly acknowledge my husband, John, my son, Aisha, my daughter, Anna, my sister, Linda, and my brothers. I thank them for their love and support in years past and in the years ahead. I honour the memory of my parents, Verdun Edward Frost and Patricia Mary Te Rata Māhuta Frost. I miss them both. I pay tribute to the leaders, delegates, and members of my union, the Service and Food Workers Union Ngā Ringa Tota, whose courage and determination for a better life for working people comes with me to this House.

I follow my grandfather, the Reverend Frederick Ledger Frost, who was a member of this Parliament. He died when I was a very small child, so I have no personal recollection of him, but I am here on his shoulders, just as we are all here on the shoulders of many. My grandfather was born in the north of England to a poor family. He left school at the age of 12 to work in the mines as a pit boy, continuing that occupation in the mines on the West Coast of New Zealand when he immigrated here as an adult. He studied at night and qualified to become a Methodist minister, but war intervened. He was a soldier in the 1st Otago Tunnelling Corps in World War I and was injured at the Somme. After the war he was the Auckland City Missioner.

My grandfather was deeply troubled by the Depression, and, as a consequence, he joined the Labour Party. He was the Labour candidate for Napier, but lost by a handful of votes, so he went back to work at the Huntly mines in the intervening period until he was elected as the member for New Plymouth in the first Labour Government. After my grandfather had made his maiden speech to the House, that great orator John A. Lee said: “By their deeds are Parliaments known; and if Parliaments have played an important part in the public well-being—in nation building—and if politicians have done so, then they are known by their institutions. I venture to assert that as the years go by because this party”—the Labour Party—“has established good institutions and will continue to do so, there will be many members of this House whose names will become by-words and will become as historical as some of the great names in the history books of New Zealand.”

How right he was. During my grandfather’s time in this House, the Labour Government introduced the Social Security Bill, which brought in free health-care and universal superannuation, in addition to the programme of State house construction and many other achievements that set the basis for a fairer society. So many members of that Parliament are, indeed, now great names in our history books. We know them well: Michael Joseph Savage, Peter Fraser, and Sir Walter Nash. I am proud that my family was part of that important contribution and part of the first Labour Government of Aotearoa New Zealand.

Politics is in my blood. I suspect that that is not unusual in this House. Many of us have whakapapa that could indicate why we have chosen this path. I have proud family connections with Ireland, England, and the tangata whenua of, in particular, Waikato. But there is one story in my ancestry that I want to tell because it illustrates the terrible battle that many have waged for justice. An ancestor of mine, Charles O’Brien, who lived in Youghal, County Cork, was the local leader of the United Irishmen resistance fighters, and he was known to the English as “Plague O’Brien”. Charles was caught by the English and sentenced to be hung from the Clock Gate tower in Youghal. The Clock Gate was a grim prison building, a symbol of terror and tyranny for the countryside around, and its inmates were often tortured.

The United Irishmen movement was recruited principally from amongst the working class and the labouring element of the country districts. In that period, the open organisation of labourers for any purpose was against the law. Consequently, all the trade unions that then flourished among the Irish working class were illegal organisations whose members were in constant danger of arrest and transportation for the crime of organising. What was Charles O’Brien fighting for? He was fighting for the democratic reform of the Irish Parliament and for the removal of English control from Irish affairs. He fought for political reform and the rights of others and paid with his life.

A poignant account of Charles’ execution is told by family members. At the top of the Clock Gate tower, the mayor was supposed to put the noose around Charles’ neck and push him out. But the mayor was a family friend doing the job under duress. Charles is reported to have said to the mayor: “Let me do that for you.”, and to have put the noose around his own neck and jumped.

The point of this story is that history and whakapapa are important. We are shaped by experiences, where we come from, and those in our families who have gone before. As a Government list MP I have no particular electorate, although I am from the west of Auckland. I acknowledge the tangata whenua of the Waitakere Ranges and coastal valleys, Te Makerau a Maki, and I celebrate the vibrant city of Waitakere and its surrounding rain forest, wild coast, and rich diversity.

I am proud to be part of a city that is young, progressive, eco-friendly, and Labour. But I claim as my constituents the service workers across New Zealand—those who clean for, cook for, and care for others—and the workers who process and manufacture our food. Many of them work long hours on shift work. They work in hot factories with repetitive and noisy machines, they care for someone’s grandmother in a rest home, or they clean up after the rest of us when we have gone home. Some of their jobs are physically hard and are not particularly well paid. But what amazes me is the pride they have in the work they do—the belief that they are making a contribution, no matter how disregarded by some. It is union organisation and rights that bring dignity and give a voice to their contribution. I salute those workers, particularly those in the gallery today who have come here to encourage me on my new journey. In addition, I pay tribute to the great women presidents of Ngā Ringa Tota: Sue Wētere, Julie Kāhaki, and Sharryn Hough, along with our mate and fellow unionist Mary Campbell, who, sadly, passed away earlier this year.

I follow other leaders from the union movement into this House. It interests me how often our beliefs, experiences, and talents are written off by some in politics and the media. I believe that this is because their view of society is as indistinct as the view of the street below from the lofty heights of a high-rise building. It shows no understanding of the real world of work and of what life is like for many ordinary working people. Unions represent the hopes and aspirations of hundreds of thousands of workers in our country. They stand for the fundamental principles and beliefs, shared widely in our society, of a fair go for everyone, whereby in good times people can get a fair share of the benefits, and in the bad times there are protections. I grew up with these values, believing that if people worked hard, played by the rules, and paid their dues, then the nation would provide security, opportunity, and fairness for all.

As a trade unionist, I experienced first-hand the devastation of a New Zealand experiment in the 1990s—the Employment Contracts Act, the welfare reforms, and other structural adjustments. I saw worker after worker lose pay, sick leave, holidays, public holiday pay, and jobs. I despaired at the ruthless restructuring, whereby quality jobs became casual jobs with no security of hours of employment—where workers were supposed to wait at home, on call, in the hope that they could get a few measly hours of work per week. Thousands of hospital cleaners and kitchen workers had their jobs contracted out and their pay slashed in the brutality of competitive tendering.

Catering workers employed at Capital Coast Health, for example, had their employer change six times in 8 years, and their managers change at least 10 times. The only thing that stayed the same for them was their pay rate. Until September 1999, those workers were paid the same hourly rate as they were paid under the 1990 hospital domestics award. Some employers’ idea of a fair employment agreement was a 2-page individual contract that scrapped all conditions and paid a minimum wage. The impact on the lives of working women and men was appalling. It set our country back years, yet what astounds me is that even with the evidence that those kinds of policies do not work, we continue to hear a call for more of the same from some in politics and business. These are not the standards of an advanced economy; they are the standards of a Third World country, and they undermine the generations of people who have worked hard to get a fair share of the prosperity of our land and give their families a chance to get ahead.

New Zealand’s unions are modern, energetic, and representative organisations. When unions had the opportunity with a change of government in 1999, they did not demand a return to the past. They intelligently sought democratic engagement with our future, including in the areas of growth and innovation, sustainable development, technology, skill development, and industry and regional development. Unions, instead of being seen as part of the problem, have become part of the solution. Initiatives in industry training, such as Learning Reps; in Māori economic development; and in productivity; as well as in the future of manufacturing and tripartite development projects in the wood, food, and beverage industries, to name just a few, have all had significant union involvement. Changes to industrial law, with the emphasis on good-faith bargaining and the recognition of fundamental International Labour Organization conventions on the rights to organise and collectively bargain, set the scene, and there are now real results to show for it.

We can contrast the gloom of the 1990s with last week’s announcement on wages and employment. New Zealand’s unemployment rate fell to the lowest rate since records began, and is the lowest in the OECD. The largest annual and quarterly wage and salary increases since the series began in 1992 were also recorded.

Success in building a secure, high-skill, high-productivity, and high-wage economy relies on an understanding that it is people who make the difference. It requires an investment in all workers, not just a few at the top. No one gets to do well on their own. None of us here, or anywhere, is a self-made person. All of us, rich or not so rich, can advance only because of the efforts and contributions of many. New Zealanders past and present have invested through their taxes in our education system, health care, infrastructure, highways, airports, and even this House, providing the opportunity to make our way in our lives. Those contributions must be defended so that they are equally available for others.

This brings me back to the cleaners, kitchen workers, caregivers, and food production workers. They have a right to be heard in this House, and I bring with me their hopes and dreams for a fair share and a better life for their families and communities. Their place in our economy and society is essential. They help to build a nation that makes life better for all of us. My role in this House—this House of the people—is to help make life better for them. The last 6 years and the programme of the third term of a Labour-led Government means that we are well on the path to doing so. I am conscious of the privilege it is to serve as a parliamentarian. I will do my utmost to uphold the values and core beliefs of the Labour Party and to do my best for all the peoples of New Zealand. Nō reira ngā mihi nui ki a koutou. Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa.

Madam Speaker, instead of my congratulations, may I give you my commiserations on your being re-elected to your position. The first speech I heard in this place was Helen Clark’s Speech from the Throne. We were roped into the aisles and the doors were locked. We could not leave. I have deep sympathy for your position.

I wish to speak on several subjects, but before I do I want to tell members a bit about myself. I was born in 1939 as a male, and I have stayed that way all my life. At the age of 8 I did my first business deal. I bought some chocolate bars for 20 pence, broke them in half, sold half a bar for 20 pence, and made 100 percent profit. The trouble was that I ate the profits.

At the age of 15 I left high school after 2 years and did an apprenticeship as a fitter and turner. At the age of 19 I played hockey for Poverty Bay. At the age of 22 I left Gisborne for Matamata and ended up selling and fixing tractors and farm machinery. When I was 24 I played hockey for Waikato. When I was 26 I started stock car racing. I love this sport, because it is one the whole family can enjoy.

When I was 30 I got married. I was married for 11 years. I have two lovely daughters, Caprice and Megan. After 11 years of marriage I asked my wife what she wanted for Christmas, and she said: “A divorce.” I said that I was not thinking of something quite so expensive.

At age 35 I played hockey for New Zealand’s second team against the team that went to the Olympics in 1976 and won gold. At the age of 36 I worked in the Kaimai tunnel and got sacked because the boss would not do as he was told—take note.

When I was 38 I started importing V8 motors and parts from the United States. It was a very successful business. I got into dragster racing with my mate Lewis Wymer from Tīrau, and we were very successful. We held three New Zealand titles and the New Zealand - Australia record for 7 years.

At the age of 40 I started buying and building flats and houses to rent. I had a dream. I believe that one must have a dream. One must have a go. My aim in life is to have good memories. I do not intend to die wishing I had done something. I wish to lie straight in my coffin when I die. My dream was to have 100 units rented out. I got to 52 units and realised I was not making any money out of it, so I sold the lot. I attracted the attention of the Inland Revenue Department, too, by the way—but we will not mention that. At age 44 I started to build and lease industrial buildings. I ended up with 58 tenants in Matamata.

At the age of 46 I got married again. It looks like it might stick this time. My wife, Martha, has been my helper and best mate for 20 years. It is actually our anniversary today. She has made great sacrifices for our business and will make more for my being in this House. In my early business years I was very shy when I walked into a room full of people. Martha told me: “When you walk into a room, nobody is better than you.”

At age 52 I had trouble with the Matamata Council. It would not do what I told it to—take note, again. So I left town for Mount Maunganui. I have been very successful in the Mount and in Tauranga, building industrial buildings for tenants.

At the age of 61 I had another dream. I wanted to do something different. My love was speedway. I wanted to build a stadium that could be used for both speedway and rugby. The local speedway club had tried to get a resource consent, and that took all its money. It spent all its money on paperwork and still had no track. I offered to do the job. I too had enormous trouble getting resource consents and permits, but I got the job done.

The Baypark Stadium is a landmark in the Bay of Plenty. Members are welcome at any time to visit the place. National Party members can visit for free, Labour Party and New Zealand First members have to pay. By the way, the Hon Bill English has actually driven a stock car at my stadium, and I believe he truly enjoyed it.

I would like to mention that the resource consents and permits on that building alone—it is a big stadium—cost 985,000 wasted dollars. That is ridiculous.

When I was 65—which nearly puts me at being the oldest member on this side of the House—I had another dream. I wanted to do something bigger. I considered that New Zealand was on a slippery slope and heading downhill fast. I had breakfast with the Hon Nick Smith and the Hon Tony Ryall, who persuaded me to throw my hat in the ring and stand as the National candidate for Tauranga. I thought: “This should be easy.” I only had to beat Winston Peters, who had done nothing for Tauranga in 21 years.

I was wrong about the campaign being easy. It got dirty. It was muck, sludge, and sewage every day of the campaign. But my honesty and morals carried me through. Even after all the muckraking and scandal-mongering, Winston Peters lost. Winston was the loser. “I am perfectly happy being the member for Tauranga.”—an interesting remark.

My big worries for this country are roading, student loans, and law and order. Let us take roading. Roading is totally underfunded. Why do we pinch $646 million from fuel tax, and so on, and put into the consolidated account. This is morally wrong. It should be spent on new roads. If we build better roads, fewer deaths will occur on the roads.

I have just read a story about Ireland, where $5 billion has been spent on roads. The number of deaths and the injury rate from road accidents have dropped substantially. Ireland is going to continue to build new roads, and it looks forward to having an even lower accident rate.

Forget speed—that is not the killer on the roads. The Rt Hon Helen Clark will confirm that speed does not kill. It is the lack of speed that is killing people. Frustration is the problem. Long queues of cars frustrate people, and they take chances. I believe that the average New Zealander is quite happy to cruise at 80 to 105 kilometres an hour, as long as he or she is not held up by other cars and trucks. We need more divided, four-lane, dual carriage roads.

In New Zealand we have killer roads, and the Government of the day is responsible. I believe that if the roads are not improved, the Government should be charged with manslaughter.

Twenty percent of our tertiary students are incurring student loans while studying what I call “hobby” courses. They have no hope of getting a job in the field of those subjects. They will end up with $20,000-plus loans that they will never be able to repay, and their lives will be put on hold forever. I strongly suggest that the Government deals with that problem and stops students from getting loans where they have no hope of getting a job in their chosen field and no hope of repaying the loan.

We will never have law and order fixed until we fix the problem. The problem is that our prisons are like motels in the prairie. Let us toughen up our prisons, so that people will not want to go there. Let us get prisoners out of bed at 6.30 in the morning, and get them outside marching and running until noon. After a short lunch, they should get into another 2 hours of marching and running, and then have a 2-hour break. They should get 1 hour to recover and 1 hour to think about whether the crime was worth the time. Then they should do the same thing again the next day, the day after, and every day of their sentence. We would not have to build any more prisons; people would not want to be there and would not do the crime.

Let me finish by saying that I live in Tauranga and do all my business there. I am passionate about Tauranga and Mount Maunganui. I want to do all I can to promote and stimulate the area. Mount Maunganui has some of the best beaches in New Zealand, and Tauranga is the largest export port in New Zealand—it exports 70 to 90 million trays of kiwifruit alone. The place is growing. The Tauranga City Council is having trouble keeping up with the infrastructure required to keep up with the progress.

Tauranga has a great future ahead of it. The city’s problems are mainly to do with roading and resource consent issues. The appalling state of our roads is limiting our growth. When we have a cost-benefit ratio in our area of $5.50 gained for every dollar spent on roading, my business brain asks why we are not building roads.

I have a lot of practical experience. I know how to get jobs done fast, on time, and within budget, and built to the highest standards. I want to use my knowledge and ability in Government to get those jobs done.

I want more apprenticeships given in the trades, which would help to fix the leaky house problem. I want State house tenants to be given the option to buy the house they occupy. The money recovered from those sales could build more houses for people who need them—for example, young married couples. I see that 6,000 affordable houses are being built a year by the Housing New Zealand Corporation. That would solve the housing problem faced by young people today. It would cost the Government nothing to do that project. It would save the taxpayer the high cost of running State houses.

I repeat that New Zealand is going downhill fast. When I look across the Chamber at the members of this Government, I say: “God help us! God help New Zealand!”.

Let us get this country humming. Let us make decisions. We should let New Zealanders have a go; we should not tie them up in red tape. New Zealand’s future is at stake. We should let young and old New Zealanders have a dream. With a chance, they could make it come true. I will not die with a dream—I want the rest of New Zealand to dream and achieve with me.

I move, That this debate be now adjourned until after consideration of Government order of the day No. 3.

Motion agreed to.