Valedictory Statements — Hon Brooke van Velden

Thank you, Mr Speaker. I stand in this House for a final time to give my valedictory speech. If I start to get too emotional during this contribution, I swear it’s pregnancy hormones and not me letting my guard down in the last week of Parliament.

As I retire from Parliament, I’ve reflected on what an honour and a privilege it has been to serve my community, my party, and my country. I leave Parliament decades younger than most MPs when they enter, yet I feel I’ve experienced more of New Zealand than most would in a lifetime. I have always been clear that I never wished to be a career politician. I came here to do a job, not to hold a position. I am proud of my contribution to public service, and it is time now to take on a new challenge outside of it.

One of the true privileges of being a member of Parliament is the people we meet. We in this House shape the laws of this country, but it is those interactions out across the country that have shaped me. Whether it’s a shoulder to cry on for the woman who lost her home in the Auckland floods, sitting with a woman who lost her son to suicide, or helping an elderly man with no family understand his medication, those interactions stay with me.

I’ve been shown through Kiwi companies, from fibreglass factories, forestry plantations, steel fabricators, rocket and precision electromagnet assemblies, and ports, and listened as small business owners and farmers described the daily battle to keep the lights on for their employees and provide for their own families. I’ve visited drug rehabilitation centres, rest homes and dementia care facilities, and animal welfare refuges. Every day as a member of Parliament has been different.

I am grateful for the thousands of connections I’ve had with New Zealanders, each sharing their own personal stories, and I’m humbled I had the opportunity to listen, advocate, and bring their voices to Wellington. Those conversations confirmed something that I came to this place believing. Government decisions touch each of our lives a thousand times a day, through rules, regulations, limits on freedoms and choices. We should never treat the decisions before us lightly. People deserve honesty and justification.

My first thanks tonight must go to ACT Leader David Seymour. Thank you for nine years of working together over three Parliamentary terms—nine years of leadership, mentorship, and friendship. Thank you for showing me what can be achieved by one MP with conviction and the willingness to act on it.

I believe advocating for and passing the End of Life Choice Act was the morally and ethically right thing to do. Before I entered this House as an MP, I worked here with David Seymour to write and pass a law that has now provided compassion and choice for hundreds of people suffering at the end of their lives. That law rests on a simple principle: your life is your own. Who are we to tell a terminally ill person how much suffering they must endure before the end?

I wish to acknowledge those who assisted in passing that law: parliamentarians, legal drafters, advocates, but most importantly, the many New Zealanders who shared their stories and who passed away during the passage of the bill and after. Working on that law will remain one of the greatest privileges of my life. I told you I was going to cry! It convinced me to dedicate the past few years to public service, to advance more laws that benefit New Zealanders.

My second thanks go to the ACT Party board and ACT members who selected me as the party’s deputy leader in 2020, backing a young, liberal woman to help lead the party in Opposition and in Government. Thank you for your trust and for your support over my six years in the role. I have aimed to repay that trust in my words and actions in this House, and by supporting the wider ACT caucus and team.

As deputy leader, I sought to be a support, a trusted sounding board, and a voice of honesty to the leader. Thank you, David, for providing that for me also. As I step back to join ACT’s old guard, I’m comforted that my colleague Nicole McKee will be a steady pair of hands helping to lead ACT forward.

David, I will miss our Monday evening dinners and debriefs at the Thistle Inn. I won’t miss the early-morning phone calls or running to keep up with your walking pace in these corridors.

When I entered Parliament in 2020, I also took on the role of party whip. It was a role I took seriously. I was stringent. To my ACT colleagues from 2020, thank you for putting up with my monthly key performance indicator meetings. Every month, I sat down for half an hour with each MP one-on-one to go over what had been achieved, goals for the next month, and to hear any concerns. These were warmly welcomed by some, tolerated by others, and refused by only one caucus member—the leader. I didn’t tell anyone at the time, in case the others got a whiff that they could be optional.

I was and remain impressed by how good our caucus was to work with. Thank you Nicole, Chris, Simon, Karen, James, Mark, Toni, and Damien for being good natured, hard-working MPs who got on with the job and left personal politics at the door. That caucus is only rivalled by our current caucus. Thank you, also, to Andrew, Todd, Laura, Parmjeet, and Cam. You have all made my decision to step away much easier, knowing that I leave the party in such good hands.

During my time in Opposition, I advocated for a number of causes. I brought a motion, unanimously supported across this House, expressing grave concern at the human rights abuses against Uyghurs and other ethnic and religious minorities in Xinjiang. I hosted fundraisers for the Ukrainian effort. And I advocated for pregnant New Zealand women unable to re-enter their own country under COVID restrictions. Those causes might look unrelated, but what they have in common is a belief in freedom, choice, and democratic rights. I believe in democracy. I believe it is the best system we have to protect the rights and freedoms of individuals, and to allow individuals with very different beliefs to live alongside one another with choice and dignity.

At the start of 2023, I asked two ACT Tāmaki-based volunteers out for a coffee, and I asked what they thought about me campaigning to win the seat. They didn’t know it at the time, but I wouldn’t have gone ahead if they’d told me they didn’t back the idea. The answer came back. I had my first two volunteers. Thanks to Don and Mike, I put the wheels in motion—writing a plan, getting sign-off from the board, hosting a campaign launch in Kohimarama, and setting about painting Tāmaki pink. I had pink bunting, a pink blazer, and a pink car. What followed were some of the most rewarding, tiring, and fun moments of my life.

I still recall the very first door I knocked on with Don, the day after the announcement. My pamphlets hadn’t arrived, so I printed 200 flyers at the Warehouse and met Don in the rain at the corner of Vale Road and Maskell Street. I knocked, and before I could finish my pitch, the lady who answered said, “Oh, I saw you on the news last night—you already have my vote!” That single interaction spurred me on for days.

What followed was true grassroots activism. I held 130 street corner meetings across the electorate with my pink coat and affordable microphone. I remember the first one, driving to Stonefields, bracing for no one to show up. I was greeted by 40 people at the corner of the park, all curious to meet the new candidate. By the end of the campaign, over 120 locals were volunteering in some capacity, most of whom had never been involved in a political party. Thank you to my campaign manager, Jaden; to electorate committee chairs, Carolyn and Tony; and electorate committee members and volunteers.

The warmth and support I felt in Tāmaki from the start has never left. It has been a true pleasure to be your local MP. To the people of Tāmaki, thank you. Thank you for voting for me to represent you. Thank you for your warmth, your kindness, and your genuine care for my welfare.

I’ve lost count of how many times a conversation in a local shop has led to someone thanking me for my service, or even comments like “You’re too nice for that job. It must be horrible. How do you do it?” I joke back that I grew up the youngest of four kids and the only girl, and I can handle anything. But the truth is it can be tough at times: the abuse, the personal attacks, and the concern for safety. While I can’t control other people’s actions, I can control how I respond.

We have a duty, as leaders in this House, to be role models for those who watch us and for those who come after us. Those attacks have been met by turning the other cheek and getting on with the job. The clear exception was the fateful day of the “c” word, when a clearly misogynistic article was brought into a debate in this House to belittle me and other senior members of this Government—don’t worry, Mr Speaker, I won’t repeat those quotes today. I’m proud to have stood up to that misogyny, for my colleagues and for every woman who stays silent out of fear of being labelled the wrong kind of woman.

As I leave, I ask my colleagues to reflect on their words and actions. We are all sent to this place to represent the people of New Zealand and to make the hard decisions that need to be made. The standard should be to hold the Government to account for the decisions it makes, without resorting to personal attacks.

When we came out the other side of coalition negotiations, I had no idea what position I would be offered. I was happy to be placed wherever the party thought best. As it turned out, that was in Cabinet, working on some of the most extensive employment reforms in decades and overseeing the serious operations of government at the Department of Internal Affairs (DIA). On both fronts, I knuckled down, learnt a lot, and made the hard decisions leaders are expected to make.

A quote from economist Thomas Sowell I constantly come back to is that “There are no solutions. There are only trade-offs.” Nowhere is that clearer than in Government. With limited finances, limited time, and limited people, where is the effort best spent? If I’d listened to my officials, I fear I would have achieved half of what I’d set out to do. There is a constant call for more people, more time, and more money. With a few pushes here and there, I ticked off every Government work programme handed to me, and a few more.

One of the most meaningful actions I could take in my workplace relations portfolio was reform of the Holidays Act, which had caused decades of confusion about how to pay staff. This shouldn’t be complicated, but our laws had made it so. A law that an ordinary employer cannot follow without hiring a consultant is a bad law, however good the intentions behind it. Complexity is never neutral. It is a tax on the small operator who cannot afford the advice, and it quietly favours those who can.

Two former Ministers who’d tried and failed wished me good luck as I took on this immensely technical law. It required real work, balancing different interests, and a lot of attention to detail. I leave proud of the effort it took to repeal the Holidays Act and replace it with a simpler one. Thank you to every person who helped me champion that reform.

To my adviser Jenesa, I’m proud to have worked alongside such a strong and precise rational thinker. My successes are also your successes. To know you can trust someone fully and rely on their honest opinion is rare in politics. You have a huge future ahead of you, and I’d be lucky to work with you again.

Within the Department of Internal Affairs, I focused on the efficiency of Government and better governance. It’s been pleasing to see processing times for citizenship applications drop from 180 days at the start of the term to a low of 32 days, to oversee reform of the lottery grants system, and—a personal favourite—to see the National Library and Archives New Zealand work together to produce Anzac Stories, an accessible online tool all Kiwi kids can use to learn about a pivotal time in New Zealand’s history, providing future generations access to our war records in an interactive way. Lest we forget.

To my adviser Nick, you’re a shining light in Wellington’s dark bureaucracy I think of DIA as an engine constantly at risk of spontaneous combustion—you never know when the next fire will light—but, Nick, you’ve extinguished flames on the daily.

On the Public Service, I have met several very skilled public servants who are badly let down by the structure they work within, and I believe radical reform is needed. The Public Service Commission should be abolished. It does not work for the public and it does not work for elected Governments. It works for the Public Service to preserve the status quo, and enable public servants to shuffle between agencies while leaving the failures of their roles behind, with no accountability or meaningful consequences.

Ministers should hire chief executives directly and be responsible for their agency. One agency; one Minister. If that were the structure, I believe we’d see better accountability and transparency over decision making and over where the money goes. It is what the people paying our taxes deserve, and it shouldn’t be hard in a country as small as ours. The Public Service should serve the public, not itself.

There are a few more people I wish to thank this evening. Thank you to all the staff who keep our democracy running: those in the Speaker’s Office, the Office of the Clerk, the messengers, and especially the security team, who have been a delight to greet every day. This House does not work without you, and you are rarely thanked for it.

Miranda, I remember interviewing you to be responsible for my office and asking how you’d look after it. You said you’d do one better and look after me. You’ve kept your word. You’ve provided warmth to my days and taken many weights off my mind. Thank you.

Cami and Florence, my press secretaries, thank you for making me look good in the news. You’re both stars.

Jaden, you’ve made the difficult balance of ministerial and electorate work much easier. Thank you for caring for Tāmaki on the days I’m down here, and for managing the office so well with Cynthia, Jan, Felix, and Charlotte.

Thank you to the VIP drivers. It felt like I’ve had a team of aunts and uncles on standby. There are too many to name, but I’ll give one example of going above and beyond. When one of the drivers heard that my partner was buying me apricot Danishes—because that’s what the baby wanted, and I couldn’t find anything like it in Wellington—one morning I arrived at work and found a delicious apricot Danish on my desk with a note, and they kept coming. Thank you.

Thank you to my parents for your support over these years. I said in my maiden speech that no status, wealth, or career I chose to pursue would ever earn my parents’ respect; only my character could do that. Respect is hard to gain and easily lost. I sincerely hope I have earned yours, and that I’ve kept it.

To my love, I know it’s not easy to have a partner in the public eye. Thank you for putting up with it quietly, for supporting me emotionally, and for challenging me intellectually. I’m excited to spend more than one or two days together in a row, in the same city. I’m excited for the future, for this baby, and for the new challenges ahead.

I’ll leave with the sign-off I’ve sent in my newsletter every month: “As always, it’s a pleasure being your MP. See you around the community.”

[Applause]

Sitting suspended from 6.01 p.m. to 7.30 p.m.

ASSISTANT SPEAKER (Greg O'Connor): Good evening, members. In accordance with the determination of the Business Committee, I call on Government order of the day No. 8.