Maiden Statements

Sorry. I’m about to call Nicola Willis for her maiden statement, but I’m taking a little bit of time over it because I know that there are some people who are coming in and we’ve gone slightly faster through question time than is normally the case. So I’m giving a bit more of a chance for people to enter so that they can hear the statement. If people don’t mind, I’m just going to stand here for about a minute. [Interruption] Order! If Mr Robertson would like to take a quick call, I’m—

💬 Rt Hon Winston Peters: I raise a point of order, Mr Speaker. We could use up the minute by having Simon Bridges tell us all he knows.

I’m not sure that that was helpful.

💬 Hon Gerry Brownlee: I raise a point of order, Mr Speaker. In the same vein, we could take up about that amount of time for Mr Peters to tell us what he’s forgotten.

In accordance with a determination of the Business Committee, I call on Nicola Willis to make her maiden statement.

E ngā mana, e ngā reo, e ngā rangatira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou kua huihui, kia ora koutou katoa.

[To all the different people and cultures, to all distinguished persons, indeed to all gathered here, I greet you all.]

Mr Speaker, I acknowledge your mana, and I thank you for your patience. I do so with trepidation, recalling the many Official Information Act requests I sent to you in your former role as Minister of Education. I intend to be less of a nuisance to you as a member of this House.

I am late to the 52nd Parliament. I had a brief induction seven months ago, and now I’m back. The privilege of being here is immense, and I will make the most of every day.

I am grateful to the National Party, who chose to rank me well on our list; our party president, Peter Good fellow; our office holders; and all those who support National and the values we represent. My special thanks go to the members in Wellington Central, who selected me as their candidate and backed me to the hilt.

The Wellington Central campaign trail was an education: candidate debates with rooms full to bursting, challenging policy questions, and doorknocking routes fit for mountain goats. I was supported by an energetic and resilient team, enlivened by our incredible Young Nats. I thank you all.

I acknowledge my companions on that campaign trail, and now colleagues in this House, the Hon Grant Robertson and the Hon James Shaw. Grant, I hope we will sometimes work together to get a good deal for Wellington, and James, I will continue to persuade you of the merits of a “teal deal”.

Wellingtonians should know that while I do not currently represent an electorate here, I will always work hard on their behalf. Wellington is my home, and I want it to succeed.

Growing up in New Zealand has given me great opportunities. I come to Parliament to ensure more New Zealanders can have the choices and experiences I have had. This should be a country of aspiration, where every child can pursue big dreams. I am a relentless optimist. New Zealand has enormous potential, and I am determined that we realise it.

Our forebears came here seeking security and prosperity. My great-great-grandfather Archibald Willis was one of them. Orphaned at 15, Archie left England, arriving here in 1854. In 1893, Archie was elected MP for Wanganui. On 6 September that year, the question of women’s suffrage came before this House. My great-great-grandfather voted yes to women getting the vote, and today, I follow in his feminist footsteps.

Archie was a member of the Liberal Party, whose union with the Reform Party created our modern National Party. That meeting of city and country, of taking the best of liberal and conservative philosophy, and of rejecting the binaries of ideology in favour of problem-solving pragmatism is a tradition I am proud to represent.

My personal values come from Mum and Dad. My mother, Shona, was a journalist, at one time serving in the great parliamentary press gallery. She sacrificed paid work and the status it brings to raise me and my siblings—thank you, Mum. My dad, James, once a stop-go man for the Ministry of Works and always a surfer, is a lawyer who lives life to the max. Journalist and lawyer are both unpopular professions, but neither are as unloved as politician. You get what you deserve.

My parents taught me we should always work hard and do our best. We should treat others as we wish to be treated. Actions have consequences, and we must own our mistakes. Fairness—that Kiwi sense of doing what’s right—is an ideal not just to aspire to but to fight for. We do not make our own candle burn brighter by blowing out another, and when much is given, much can be expected in return.

I was raised to value education. I had many great and inspiring schoolteachers, who helped me on my way. At university, I studied English literature. I will always be a proponent of the arts and the role artists play in reflecting the beauty and complexity of our lives and our society. My unofficial second major was my membership of the Victoria University debating society, where I honed my debating skills, made great friends, and met my husband.

Having worked jobs selling clothes, shoes, and bagels, I was incredibly fortunate to land a role as a researcher, working with then Opposition education spokesman, Bill English. Bill taught me that politics is not about personal ambition; it is about making a difference for people. I look up to Bill not only as a political mentor but as proof that juggling multiple children is compatible with a successful life in Parliament.

I went on to work for Sir John Key, whose infectious enthusiasm, respect for all, and sheer intelligence had a profoundly positive impact on our country. Thank you, Sir John, for your support, your belief in me, and your constant ribbing.

My time with Bill and Sir John was the best political apprenticeship I could have hoped for. It was inspiring to watch them lead New Zealand from a dark hour of financial crisis and natural disaster to a time of prosperity and choices, and to see the exodus of New Zealanders leaving for Australia each year entirely reversed as jobs and incomes flourished here at home. That transformation cemented my view that a strong economy is the foundation on which equality of opportunity is built.

Economic growth ensures New Zealanders can have better jobs, better incomes, and aspiration for their children’s futures—it doesn’t just happen. We must back our risk takers, innovators, and entrepreneurs who put their capital and livelihoods on the line to produce a product, idea, or new way of doing things. We must back the hard workers, those who go the extra mile and who toil, day in, day out to make progress for themselves and their families.

The dairy owner who works 12 hours a day, six days a week, with one week off at Christmas; the student who holds down two part-time jobs; the cleaners working night shift; our social entrepreneurs; the single mum who starts an online business, picking up her laptop the minute her daughter is asleep and sacrificing rest for the chance of a better future—these people are the best of us. It is their efforts that will ensure New Zealand gets better and better. The Government can too easily take their effort for granted or, worse, invoke the politics of envy against them.

My desire to better understand business led me to work for our largest cooperative. I wanted to experience the reality of managing a bottom line and of selling New Zealand’s products to the world and striving to maximise their value. Fonterra opened my eyes. I saw our country from new perspectives, from high-rises in Shanghai, trade offices in Jakarta, and a factory floor in Colombo. I saw that New Zealand had so much more to gain from embracing trade than we did from fearing it. We must remain open to the world, its markets, and its people.

Best of all, I got to walk in gumboots alongside Kiwi farmers who know that nobody owes them a living and who go out each day—rain or shine, high milk price or low—to earn their way in the world. These men and women share my view that New Zealand’s land and water are taonga for which we are stewards. Farmers should be respected as partners in the vital environmental work New Zealand has before it to combat climate change, to clean our rivers, and to protect our biodiversity.

I’m hugely fortunate to have married Duncan. He understands that caregiving is a responsibility and a privilege to be divided according to circumstances and not gender. He has, again and again, made sacrifices to further my dreams.

We are parents to four beautiful children, aged eight, six, five, and two: James, Harriet, Reuben, and Gloria. That’s you, darlings.

I remember our excitement and confidence when I first became pregnant. We read all the books, drafted sleep schedules, and planned an infancy of structured excellence. Then our son arrived and he seemed determined not to adhere to our plans in any way at all, and each of our children has continued to confound us like this.

This imperfection has been a gift to me. It has taught me that much is beyond our individual control, that plans only take you so far, and that the messy bits in life can be a source of joy. Parenting has deepened my well of empathy and helped me understand that sometimes sugary treats, takeaways, cartoons, and disposable nappies are the keys to sanity. I will not be a “Government knows best” politician because I know just how imperfect family life is.

I’ve had the fortune of parenting with the support of a village and the means to fill our supermarket trolley, heat our bedrooms, and buy ever bigger shoes. Even with all that support, parenting is sometimes a tough gig. There’s no getting away from the broken sleep, the tantrums, the hospital visits, the worry, and the heartache. I respect the many Kiwis who, day in, day out, do the hard work of parenting well without fanfare and often in difficult circumstances.

It is time we did more as MPs to honour and support the work of Kiwi parents. They are the heroes of New Zealand’s homes.

Too often, our public institutions and services ignore the realities and demands of modern family life. Why is it that in a country of working parents, we have 12 weeks of school holidays, which leave many families stressed and scrambling for childcare? Why is it we can’t access our children’s medical and education records online? Why, when some parents choose to work an extra shift or take a promotion, do they end up financially penalised by the blowback of childcare costs, tax hikes, and loss of tax credits? Why do we so seldom acknowledge those who forgo paid employment to care for their children and contribute to their community? And why don’t we better target investment at those crucial first 1,000 days in a child’s life?

We should put whānau and family at the heart of policy. Let me be clear: families come in all shapes and sizes. One parent, two parents, four; grandparents as caregivers; blended; gay; married or not married; adopted; whāngai—I am not concerned by the form a family takes, but by the function it performs. What matters is the strength of the bonds, the shared values, the getting up at 2 a.m. to change the nappy or give the feed, cheering on at assembly and from the sidelines, asking the questions when progress stalls at school, and providing the comforting words when worries loom large at night—support, belonging, unconditional love.

I endorse the work of successive Governments to eliminate the material deprivation in which too many families raise their children. This work must continue, but we are kidding ourselves if we think lifting family incomes is all that is required to strengthen Kiwi families.

We cannot ignore the cycles of dependence, dysfunction, and criminality that exist in our country. A smarter social investment approach is needed to break these cycles. Our efforts should be joined up across departments, votes, and Government and non-governmental organisations. Bureaucratic silos must be dismantled. Data and evidence must be leveraged. Results for children and their families should be our focus, not the dollars spent. We live in an age of technological disruption, information networks, and personalised services. It’s time Government got on board.

Politics is not just about the what; it is about the how. We do our best as leaders when we listen well, when we treat each other with civility, and when we bring people together, not when we drive them apart.

Duncan and I have taught our kids that my political opponents are good people. They share a motivation to make this country better, but have different ideas about how to achieve it.

I think the members opposite have good hearts. Their ideas are occasionally a bit mad or naive, but I want the chance to talk them round from time to time. So I intend to get to know you.

I see politics as a team sport and, boy, this is a great team. I am a small part of a great party with a long and proud history, a talented caucus, and a mighty, mighty membership. While I’d rather National was leading the Government, I’m excited to play my part in reshaping us for the new challenges our country and world face. I have great confidence in the Hon Simon Bridges and the Hon Paula Bennett, and I am honoured to have theirs. I’ll always be thankful to National’s “class of ‘17” for adopting me as their own.

And now, it’s time to get on with it. To walk the walk. To do the mahi. To serve.

Let me, finally, say to my family, and most especially my parents, James and Shona, my sister, Amanda, and my brother, Jono, my husband, Duncan, and our wonderful children, James, Harriet, Reuben, and Gloria, I love you and I hope to make you proud.

[Applause]