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The first time I met Qiane Matata-Sipu, she told me that she never wanted to be an exhibiting photographer, as they were mounting giant copies of her photographs, bigger than my car, in Auckland’s Silo Park. “I had the idea that photography would be a good skill when I became a writer for National Geographic, writing about all the international places I traveled to. “She had recently won Geographic of New ZealandPhotographer of the Year 2018 Progear Photostory for her images, which were not from mysterious international locations, but from her home in Ihumātao and the quest to protect the land there.
But this photographer / storyteller / activist is not a Mark Wahlberg or Kevin Bacon character, admitting that they don’t know how they became actors when they actually wanted to be musicians. He is very clear about what he is doing and where he is going. In year 13, an unhelpful career teacher told young Matata-Sipu that communications was a difficult profession to enter and consider a different career path. “As a Maori / Pasifika woman, in a decile school in South Auckland, she didn’t think she would get in. He was thinking, ‘I’m going to do it, so close your face,’ proving he was right. To prove her wrong I value truth and integrity very much and if I say that I am going to do something, I have to do it. I learned that from my grandfather. “
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When you take a look at Matata-Sipu’s bio, it’s easy to feel like a poor performance. Co-Director at 17, Chairman of the Makaurau Marae Hauora Committee at 18, Award Winning Journalist at 22, Associate Editor of a Magazine at 25, Established Multimedia Business at 28, Founding Member of Soul (Save Our Unique Landscape) in Ihumātao at 30, award-winning photographer at 32, and now, at 35, she has taken on her biggest project yet, Nuku, telling the stories of 100 incredible indigenous wāhine through photographs, podcasts, videos and, the next year, a book.
But upon meeting her, any notion of a superwoman dissolves in your coffee (or green smoothie, for that matter) as she introduces you to her own story, beginning with classic bullying. “In elementary school I was bullied by popular girls. It was a mix of acting confident, I would get up to make speeches, but I didn’t feel safe inside. Because I was light-skinned and didn’t go to the Maori unit, I was mainstream, so learning about who I was as a young man was a continuous work in progress.
“I knew he wouldn’t change to fit someone else’s circle, he was too stubborn.”
She grew up surrounded by adults in Māngere and Ihumātao and being the only daughter for 10 years was the perfect training for a storyteller. “When you are the only child, you see and hear a lot of what [adults] I think not. I’m a real empath, I would pick up a vibe and go to bed and listen by the door and my aunt would come in and say, ‘Don’t be so nosy, go back to bed.’ But I really just wanted to find out what was going on. I also learned to keep people’s stories down, just because I knew that all the gossip didn’t mean I would tell everyone. “
From a very young age she wanted to be in the news. At the intermediate level, he was making videos and said goodbye: “This is Qiane from The message. “And he started taking pictures with his mother’s Kodak Instamatic.” I had such a beautiful childhood, full of love, full of experiences, surrounded by family; we had no money but we had the best education and I wanted to remember that forever. My grandmother He always said he would be a journalist when he grew up. ” But, she admits, she doesn’t like being told to do something as much as she doesn’t like being told not to do something.
So once she became a journalist, deputy editor of someone else’s magazine, she gave up. He knew he could make more of an impact by doing his own thing, so he started his own media business. “I am very guided by instinct and intuition. Having tino rangatiratanga [sovereignty] about your own life and following what is inside you. Sometimes it’s hard for people to understand because I can take pretty bold risks, but I only take them when I feel like everything is going to be okay. “
She is also guided by tūpuna (ancestors) with her work in Ihumātao and Nuku. “My tūpuna is saying, ‘Until you finish this job, we won’t let you go.’ The same goes for Nuku. They’re saying, ‘It’s not our problem to figure out how you pay your bills, here’s what to do.’
Recently, Stacey Morrison and Kiri Nathan had visited Matata-Sipu to discuss Nuku’s three-year plan. “I’m so sure my grandmother is up there pressuring her nans to make that kōrero happen.”
So far, the Matata-Sipu tūpuna has pushed 50 indigenous Wāhine in its path, appearing in Nuku, and is currently working on photographing another 50, an ambitious goal since these women are all over the country, but it is determined to change the world. narrative around indigenous women, especially since a new conversation emerged: “Be indigenous enough.” Having grown up as a Maori wahine, whose conviction level was never fluent, Matata-Sipu doubted herself. “Being a young, light-skinned woman, I wondered if I was indigenous enough, yet I had spent my entire life immersed in my hapū and marae serving my people, being indigenous! – but I was still wondering: ‘Am I enough, am I worthy enough of this mark on my skin?’
“The colonized view of indigenous women is that they are the young, exotic and dark maidens or the kuia who fluently wear karanga and wear moko kauae. It is a white and patriarchal look. For women of color, it is not our fault that we were born into a colonized world or that we have to re-learn things that have been lost. That doesn’t stop you from being enough. Nuku is about exploring what we do and who we are, so that we can show our children that there is not a single thing that is an indigenous woman. That is very important to me. I don’t want my daughter to think that if you were not raised in papakāinga, you are not ‘Maori enough’. Your whakapapa does enough for you: we don’t make blood quantum, there are no fractions, if you really break it down then they are all indigenous from somewhere. I mean it as a joke [but] I want to form an army of empowered indigenous women ”.
I have seen Matata-Sipu speak at a conference in a room full of young women: she spoke for 30 minutes without notes and had everyone crying and laughing. And now, with a coffee and a smoothie, it has had the same effect on me. “Once you know that you are enough, nothing stops you. I don’t expect other people to give me permission, I give myself permission. So get out of my way! “
And with that, he laughs and I get out of his way.
Nuku is running a driven campaign to achieve its goal, telling the stories of 100 indigenous wāhine.