Maiden Statement

Good evening, Mr Speaker. Ko Ruapehu te maunga. Ko Waimakariri te awa. Ko Ngāti Tūmatauenga tōku iwi. Nō Waimakariri ahau. Ko Dan Rosewarne tōku ingoa. Nōku te hōnore ki te tū ki te mihi ki a koutou i tēnei wā. Kua huri aku whakaaro ki a rātou kua whetūrangitia. Haere, haere, haere atu rā. Kua hoki aku mahara ki te whaikōrero mutunga a Kris Faafoi i mahue au ana ahau te mana. Te nui o te mahi i mua i ahau hei member of Parliament au. Kua reri ahau ki te mahi mō te Pāti Reipa, mō Aotearoa hoki. Nā reira, he aha te mea nui o te ao, he tangata, he tangata, he tangata.

[Ruapehu is the mountain. Waimakariri is the river. Ngāti Tūmatauenga [New Zealand Army] is my tribe. I come from Waimakariri. My name is Dan Rosewarne. It is my honour to stand here at this time to greet you. My thoughts turn to those who have become stars in the sky. May you rest in peace. I recall Kris Faafoi’s last speech, passing the baton to me. There is much work ahead of me as a member of Parliament. I am ready to work for the Labour Party and for Aotearoa as well. Therefore, what is the greatest thing in the world, it is people, it is people, it is people.]

I would like to begin by acknowledging our Prime Minister, the Rt Hon Jacinda Ardern. In your maiden speech, you acknowledged Helen Clark for her stewardship of the nation when our generation was growing up. When I look at your stewardship over the last five years, leading our nation through some of the most challenging events of our time, you, like Helen, will leave a legacy well beyond our generation.

My name is Dan Rosewarne. I’m a proud father, I’m a husband, I’m a tradie, I’m a cancer survivor, and, until two days ago, I was a soldier. But, most importantly, I stand here today feeling extremely privileged to serve the people of Aotearoa as a member of Parliament under Labour. I have to say, it’s great being surrounded by dedicated Labour MPs; people on the same mission as me.

Like many other members here today, my journey to this place has been a challenging one. I grew up here in Wellington. I found school difficult; my experience of the education system was one that focused on the kids who are doing well, while leaving the struggling kids, like me, to find their own way. I vividly recall seeing the college careers adviser after deciding to leave school early. She outright said that I may as well just get a trade—as if it was some kind of second-tier option. I left school deflated, as if I was a failure.

But hey, I followed her guidance, went to polytechnic, and started an automotive apprenticeship. And guess what! I absolutely loved it. For some reason, that kinaesthetic learning just clicked with me. I loved being outside, working hard, diagnosing faults. It gave me confidence.

Then midway through my training, I walked past an army recruiter at a trade expo. Knowing that I struggled academically, I thought that joining the army might be out of reach. The recruiter told me to take the tests and he’d see what career options there would be for me. He gave me three tests: a literacy test, a maths test, and a general trade test. I failed the literacy test, failed the maths test, and I just passed the trade test. The recruiter said, “Mate, you did terribly. But there’s something about you I like.” Three months later, I was on a bus to Waiōuru to complete my basic training.

I thrived as a young soldier. The army did what the education system couldn’t: they refined my reading and writing skills, developed my leadership qualities, built my resilience, and gave me the opportunity to pursue further study.

Over my 23 years in the New Zealand Defence Force (NZDF), I’ve been involved in the response to many of our recent disasters across the motu. Significant responses include the Christchurch and Kaikōura quakes, as well as many responses to flooding events that seem to be occurring on an ever-increasing basis due to climate change.

If I wasn’t on the ground coordinating defence force support, I was in a headquarters conducting planning for future tasks as the disaster evolved. I got to see firsthand the sacrifices made by other Government agencies who step up during civil emergency: the New Zealand Police, St John, Fire and Emergency New Zealand, and those dedicated people at the local level who step up to work in their local emergency operations centres. You are the unsung heroes of Aotearoa.

Most recently, I was involved with the all-of-Government response to the COVID-19 pandemic, working with other agencies to establish and operate the managed isolation facilities in the Christchurch region. A source of strength for me was seeing other unsung heroes like aviation security, our health professionals, hotel and Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment staff come together to keep New Zealand safe.

I’ve had the opportunity to serve on several operational deployments. I deployed to Afghanistan in 2005, the Solomon Islands in 2008, and completed a second tour of Afghanistan in 2012, where I served on the last Crib rotation for the provincial reconstruction team. I distinctly remember that when the decision was made to leave the locally employed Afghan workers behind, this left many of us defence force staff devastated, as we knew that this decision would put their lives at risk. I made the commitment to myself at the time that, if I was ever in a position of influence in the future, I’d never let that happen again. When the security situation deteriorated in Afghanistan last year, this Government made the decision to evacuate our Afghan workers. It warmed my heart, knowing that this Government was honouring our moral obligation to those Afghan workers who put their lives at risk serving Aotearoa as part of the provincial reconstruction team.

As a young man, I never really aspired to be an MP. I always thought that it would be out of reach for a Kiwi battler like myself. But there was one life event that flipped the switch for me. Eight years ago, I was diagnosed with a cancer brick, and I’ll never forget the day my doctor sat me down and said I had leukaemia. As a 33-year-old fit young man with a young family, it hit me hard. In an instant, I felt like I had moved from that strong father figure—the provider—to a patient whom my family wanted to wrap in cotton wool. I would lie awake at night wondering what would happen if I could no longer work full time. Would I have to sell the family home? Were my kids going to miss out on everyday things? No one could tell me. And then there was the crash course into the public health system and ongoing appointments. We would sit in the haematology department waiting room wondering what the results would be. As I sat there, I’d look at the faces of those who were in the hospital with me. You would see the despair of the daughter who was sitting with a newly diagnosed father, the comforting company of the nurse with the woman who had outlived her husband and now had no one to support her in her fight, and the young man who was contemplating how this could happen to him.

I must thank the defence force for their support at this time. My term of engagement was almost up and I was worried that, because of my cancer, the army would not renew my contract. But three days after talking to the chaplain, an extension of service came in the mail with a remark from my career manager that went, “You have spent the last 15 years looking after us; now it’s our turn to look after you.” And shortly after my diagnosis, the haematologist told me that my form of leukaemia used to be a death sentence, but now there’s this new immunotherapy drug that switches off the signal that causes the cells to divide and, luckily for me, it was fully funded through Pharmac. This drug is not cheap. From a financial perspective, funding this drug did not make sense. But to me and my family, it’s paid huge dividends. I could work full time. I get to see my kids grow up and I get to participate in society. So this brush with cancer turned my mild interest in politics into an unrelenting pursuit. Going into hostile environments overseas to help preserve the security of people was something I always accepted—it’s what I signed up for—but after my cancer diagnosis, I felt I also had a responsibility to contribute to the human security of our people here at home, to do what I could do to give people the healthcare, the housing, and the economic security that they deserve.

It was at that time that I signed up for the Labour Party. One thing led to another and I got the privilege to stand in my home, the Waimakariri electorate, for both the 2017 and 2020 general elections. I learnt a lot from both campaigns, especially the 2017 election. As a candidate who had not taken the usual path to politics, I quickly learnt that you needed a lot of money and a lot of time, both of which I had little of. But, with Clayton Cosgrove’s old red bus, I would get out around the Waimakariri electorate, knock on doors, host street corner meetings, visit local businesses, and listen to what our community had to say. Our small but dedicated campaign team, all life members of the Labour Party—Sally Thompson, Roger Pike, Mavis Mannell, and Daryl Flynn Thompson and Ivan Hubbard—would diligently work away making a couple of bucks here and there through raffles to pay the invoices as they rolled in. To my wife’s horror, we also had to sell some of the furniture in our house to square up the last of the bills after I lost the campaign. But we believed in Labour’s vision and what it meant for everyday Kiwis, so we decided to do it all again in 2020. Although unsuccessful, those two campaigns served as another apprenticeship, and this time for Labour.

So what do I want to achieve? I’m not here to make promises, but there’s a few things that I want to touch on. As I moved up through the ranks in the NZDF, I learnt what it meant to lead during the good times and the bad. To me, leadership is about self-awareness—knowing when to talk and, most importantly, knowing when to remain quiet and listen. I firmly believe that trust is not built by pretending that you have all the answers, but by acknowledging when you don’t. As an MP, I’ll continue that mantra. I’ll step up when things go wrong, I’ll actively listen, and I’ll never lose sight of why I’m here.

To the young people battling through their education at school, feeling that they’re getting left behind: I get it. I’ll do everything I can to help this education system work for you, an education system that enables you to reach your true potential. University is not the only path to success, and we, as a country, need to give vocational training the respect it deserves. This will allow us to respond to the skills shortages that we face and prepare for a changing labour market, particularly as we rebuild from COVID-19. The world of work is changing, and the way we shape our young people’s views of what success looks like needs to adapt so we can be responsive to the future of work.

To the tradies out there: I get it. You get things done. The Labour Party is the party for the trades, whether it’s enabling you to upskill throughout your career or setting up a business of your own. I’ll do anything I can to advocate for you from here in Parliament. I want to point out that construction workers are at more than twice the risk of dying by suicide compared to the rest of the workforce. The mental health challenges Aotearoa faces are bigger than party politics and must be tackled by all of us in this House together with the same bipartisan support that we give to national security and intelligence.

To those families depending on funding for cutting-edge medications: I get it. And I’ll do everything in my ability to make sure that your voices are heard from inside Parliament. To all those who find themselves needing support from the public health system: I get it. Going through the public health system as a patient in my time of need colours everything I said today. In the past, the health and disability system has underperformed for Māori and our rural communities. I’m proud to be part of a Government that is implementing reforms that reduce duplication and empower Māori to design systems and health interventions that work for Māori.

To those serving and ex-serving members of the defence force: I get it. When serving, you do not get the security of union representation. With that in mind, I’ll do everything in my ability to highlight the meaning and worth of military service from inside this House. This is to acknowledge the blank cheque that you wrote out to the Government of the day to cash in for up to and including your life at any moment of your service.

The Russia-Ukrainian war is a bad omen for small nation States like Aotearoa that rely on the rules-based international order for security. Our region has enjoyed a benign strategic environment over the last 30 years but that is changing, and our defence force will have to evolve in the strategic environment. This will require ongoing investment in its people, its infrastructure, and its capabilities that enhance the stewardship of our blue ocean continent in the Pacific. That way, if the Government does need to cash in that blank cheque, our defence force is ready.

In closing, I want to thank my wife Sheree and my children, Jasper and Maddie, for your unwavering support. It has been you who have enabled me to pursue my dream of serving New Zealand as an MP. This moment today has made our journey worth it, and I’m ready to work for the people of Aotearoa. Nothing in my life has ever come easy, and I don’t expect that to change. I’m proud to belong to a Labour Party that puts people first; a party that gets it. Thank you, Mr Speaker.

Sitting suspended from 5.56 p.m. to 7 p.m.