Josephine Bartley: Me and my community

Since 2010, Josephine Bartley has served the Maungakiekie-Tāmaki ward in Auckland — which is at the south-eastern end of the isthmus, covering Onehunga, One Tree Hill, Panmure and Glen Innes — first as a Local Board member and then as its city councillor. She’s the first Pacific woman elected to the Auckland Council and chairs the council’s regulatory and safety committee which recently succeeded in ushering in a local alcohol policy giving communities more power to limit the number of liquor outlets in their areas. Here she is talking to Dale about what community service means to her. 

 

Kia ora, Josephine. Would you be kind enough to talk about where you grew up and a bit about your folks and your whānau connections?

My early childhood was in Ellerslie, and then my parents bought one of the Housing Corp houses in Māngere. They had a choice between Māngere and Glen Eden, and they went with Māngere.

So I grew up there. Me and my two brothers Ted and Joseph. My dad has another son, Paul, who’s older than me. Ted and Paul are over in Australia. I’m very proud of my brothers and their beautiful families.

My mum is Ruth Bartley (nee Burke). She’s from Sinamoga, in Sāmoa. My dad is Eddie (Talato) Bartley, and his family is in Tapatapao.

My parents are both Sāmoan, but their parents are mixed. There’s Irish heritage on Mum’s side and Chinese through Dad’s mum’s father who came from Canton in China. I believe he was the one who started sewing uniforms for the Sāmoan police. That’s what my family tell me.

How did your mum and dad end up in New Zealand? Were they born here, or did they come across as tamariki?

They came over in the late 1960s. They didn’t know each other. They met in a nightclub in Auckland called the Orange Ballroom, which is famous among Pasifika from that time. They came to work here, send money back to their families and villages, and make a better life for their future family.

Was reo Sāmoa part of your life? A lot of Sāmoan households seem to rarely speak the language at home.

My parents believed that speaking Sāmoan at home wouldn’t help us get a job, and they wanted us to get good jobs. So, we didn’t speak much Sāmoan in our household. But I’ve now done many courses to try and speak Sāmoan. I can understand it, but speaking is harder. It’s one of my regrets, not being able to speak Sāmoan fluently.

One of mine is not being able to speak Māori fluently. So we’re in the same boat there, Josephine. Māngere was an interesting place back in the 1970s, and it’s changing as we speak. What do you recall of the community? It was much maligned over the years. People used to look down their noses when you said you were from there.

We didn’t know that we were any different to any other community. As kids, we didn’t think of ourselves as “Southside”, which is the identity that you see now, and we weren’t aware of the media stereotypes of South Auckland.

I noticed the stereotypes as I got older, though. People would be surprised to hear that I was at uni and they’d make comments about how well I speak English.

As a kid, I have memories of being chased home from school by gangs of older kids. But other than that, we were fine. Walked to school every day, and everybody knew everybody. Our neighbours were Sāmoan on one side and Māori on the other. We often shared food, like chop suey, which our Māori neighbours loved, and they’d return the favour. I think we had rotten corn once, but I didn’t eat it.

We all rode our bikes everywhere around Māngere. My cousins would come over, and we’d go to the pools. It was a good childhood.

Did you go to Māngere College?

I went to Saint Joseph’s in Ōtāhuhu for intermediate and then McAuley High School because my family are Catholic. Both my parents were working full-time, so they could afford to send us to Catholic schools.

You went on to study law. Could you talk with us about varsity? Did you always harbour that ambition, or do you think you were fulfilling some hopes that your parents might have had, that you follow an academic pathway?

I wanted to be a lawyer because, growing up in Māngere, I would see David Lange around a lot, usually at the shops. And I remember seeing a photo in the paper of him in his lounge, and a whole lot of Sāmoans were sitting around him. It was during the Dawn Raids, and he was helping them because they were overstayers. And that stuck in my head. I became a lawyer because I saw it as a way to help address unfairness.

I would see the way my dad was treated when he’d go to the bank. He was looked down on because his skin was brown, and his English wasn’t so good. And that fired me up to be the best that I could be, to push back on the stereotypes — that just because I’m brown, I must be dumb.

Can you talk for a moment about some people who influenced your thinking as you were studying law, and maybe even some peers who might have been doing law at the same time and who have gone on to be good advocates for Māori or Pasifika issues, or for the community?

When I was at law school in the 1990s, there weren’t very many Pasifika there. But there were a few Māori students, and they were starting Te Rākau Ture, a support network for Māori law students.

So, because there was no Pacific group to join, I joined the Māori group. My law school friends were Lisa Wipani, Sally Patu and Gaye Gurnick. That was the group that I hung out with at law school.

And influences? When I finished law school, definitely Ida Malosi, Sandra Alofivae, and La-Verne King. I looked up to all of them because they were doing well as lawyers.

And some of them are now judges!

That’s right! Actually, they’re all judges now.

What social and political issues were at play during the period when you were studying?

I was studying around the time of the “brain drain” when a lot of young people were taking off to Australia because they couldn’t find jobs here. I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts and a Bachelor of Laws, and I couldn’t find a job. I didn’t have the connections to get me into a firm. Not like some of the others who I graduated with, who went off and worked for mummy and daddy’s friends, whereas my parents worked in factories.

And then through our Pacific Island alumni, we did this thing called Foot in the Door to try and connect the graduates with potential employers. I remember doing a survey of 50 Pacific Island graduates, and 42 of us were working in jobs that had nothing to do with our degrees.

It was a big issue back then, because you’d studied so hard and you really wanted to do something with your degrees, but you just couldn’t get a job. I had to volunteer at the Māngere Community Law Centre. I had to do lots of things to get some experience. If you can’t get the job, then you can’t get the experience. That was more on a smaller scale of issues that we were dealing with back then. I wasn’t involved in the big political issues

Has that employment situation changed? Are you sensing that it’s easier to go from study into a firm? Or does the problem of lack of old-school connections still apply?

I think there are more networking opportunities now, and people are more aware of it. And there are initiatives like Tupu Toa — they do a lot to connect graduates with opportunities for job experience and contacts.

I have great respect for the mahi from the community law centres and the volunteers who staff them, and the help they give people who are just bewildered by the legal system. You’ve done quite a lot of community work. How does that play out in real terms?

I don’t know if it’s my Catholic upbringing or what, but I’m a strong believer in the Sāmoan saying: “O le ala i le pule o le tautua.” The road to leadership is through service. That’s something I’ve done forever, I think.

I started off volunteering at a women’s refuge in Māngere when I was a teenager, and then there are the various things you do in church, like doing the Bible readings and taking Sunday school. I also did some volunteering with my dog Oliver in the SPCA to do fundraising. This is back when I was younger.

It’s something that’s just been part of my life. I’m grateful for it because it’s made me a better person. And a lot of my learning has been from being involved in the community, especially when I moved to Tāmaki in 2006. That’s where I think I really developed as a person.

If you work for women’s refuge in a voluntary capacity, you’re exposed to some of the harsh realities of life. What do you think you learned from helping women and families when they’re in their most vulnerable state?

I learned about women’s resilience and strength, and to have respect for the dignity of others at their worst times.

And I’ve learned a lot from being involved in our communities, as I said earlier. There’s so much that goes on in communities to try to solve their own problems, that people don’t know about. It’s not until you live there that you get to see under the lid of all these different pots bubbling away, and you see how communities are looking after themselves.

I just look at Tāmaki and all the social service providers working away to support whānau here. Every community has people volunteering their time to make it a better place to live. One example is our community safety wardens who provided a safety presence for the Matariki Light Trail for a week, and thankfully we had no major issues.

I’ve also seen how everyone comes together after a disaster, as we saw with the floods in Auckland last year. It’s a privilege to have that insight into a community.

There’s a richness in the Tāmaki ward, isn’t there? Panmure, GI (Glen Innes). What would you say is at the core of why you like being in that part of our city?

There’s a strong history here, which you can see in buildings like the Stone Cottage in Tāmaki and the heritage buildings over in Onehunga.

And there’s the rich natural environment, with the Tāmaki estuary and Maungarei. Then there’s the diversity of the people who live here. You’ve got Tongans, Cook Island, Sāmoans, Pākehā, a strong Asian community. Very, very diverse. Also, my family all live around here, and we’re just a 10-minute drive from each other.

You mentioned the SPCA — all the photos I see of you seem to have your beloved kuri next to you. What’s your dog’s name?

His name is Milo, and he loves being out in the community. When he’s not out there, he’s really bored at home. I’ve taken him to everything. He loves being around people, and people get a lot out of having him present as well. And it’s got to the point now where he’s the one getting invited to things and I just get invited to be his driver.

What sort of dog is he?

He’s a Shih Tzu.

He looks like he’s pretty comfortable in your arms. How old is he?

He’s 11. I’ve only had him for two years, but, boy, he’s a big part of my life now.

I have great respect for people who put their hand up for public office. We haven’t got too many Sāmoan wāhine on Auckland Council, but we do have one in you. Talk to us about why you decided to put your name forward. And how did you find campaigning? Because, you know, Māori and Pasifika tend by nature to be quite reserved and humble and at the back, whereas an election campaign requires that you put yourself forward.

There’s that saying that the kumara never says how sweet it is. But when you put yourself forward for a public position, you have to say how sweet you are, otherwise people won’t vote for you. You’ve gotta show them that you’re worth their vote.

Why did I put myself forward? Because I love this community, and I want to represent it and make a difference. And I felt that the best way to do that is in a decision-making position as a city councillor.

I’ve always wanted to be a city councillor, but it hasn’t been an easy road to get there. I went through the Maungakiekie-Tāmaki local board, as a member and then as the chair. In 2010, Auckland became a supercity so that brought all the city councils together to form the Auckland Council. And when Denise Lee became a member of parliament in 2017, the city councillor position opened up, and I put myself forward in that campaign. I won the by-election because my family and friends really got in behind me and campaigned with the Labour team over the Christmas period.

This area swings back and forth between Labour and National. I was able to win it on the Labour ticket, and I’ve been voted back in each election since. I’ve had people come up to me and say that they don’t vote Labour, but they can see the work I do and they want to support it.

I’m very grateful to the people who’ve put their faith in me regardless of political affiliations. I just want to do the best I can when I’m in there. Becoming the first Pasifika woman to get on to the governing body of Auckland is also a major honour, and now we have another, Councillor Lotu Fuli from the Manukau ward.

From the outside, the council seems to be the domain of middle-class white guys, if I can use that term. But we need to have our Māori and Pasifika voices around those decision-making tables. Since you’ve been a councillor or even on the local board, what do you derive most satisfaction from having done?

It’s really hard to point to something as a city councillor because your decisions are regional, and yet you’re judged back in the community by what you’ve had a hand in locally.

Local boards are a very different space because they are the local government. They can point to this building or this park and say: “I had a hand in that.” Whereas, as an Auckland councillor, you can point to the city rail link and say: “I supported that. I voted for that.” Or point to the Central Interceptor and say: “Yep, I voted for this. I supported Watercare.”

So there are those big things, but it’s hard for people to see what impact you’ve had. When I was on the Local Board, I was proud of the work we did around Te Oro, the music and arts centre in Glen Innes. I was doing a lot of work with young people who were going off the track. They came to my attention because I was doing community patrols. One time, I saw two 13-year-old boys sleeping in the library garden around midnight. They were some of the young people who were tagging and vandalising the hall and causing thousands of dollars of damage to council property. I wanted to know what was going on with them, and why they felt that sleeping in the garden was preferable to going home.

And that started me off learning more about what was going on in people’s homes and how there was a role that the council had to play in supporting our communities. Te Oro was a beacon of aspiration for our young people. I was proud of that.

I’m also proud of what we’re doing to clean up the waterways. And then with the Tāmaki Regeneration project, I’ve advocated for our community to make sure we have the right infrastructure in place.

One of the best emails I had was from this gentleman who was sleeping in his van. I’d heard from other residents who were worried that we were going to close off the Onehunga train station so that people who were sleeping in their cars wouldn’t be able to park down at the train station. So I went out on a Friday night to look for these people who were sleeping in their cars, and I found this one man in his van. He was very angry. He thought I was trying to get votes. And I said: “It’s not even an election year. I’m just seeing who’s out here and what help I can offer.”

I posted a video saying there was too much bureaucracy in the Ministry of Social Development, and this person I’d met needed somewhere to live. He hadn’t been able to get to his MSD appointments because he’d been in hospital. He used to be a chef, and he had a burner in the back of his van that he was using to cook his meals.

So that was on a Friday night, and then on Monday morning MSD got in contact with him, and they were able to get him into a flat in Sandringham. And he emailed me to say he was so happy, and he knew that it was from the advocacy that I had done. That’s the sort of thing I’m most proud of, helping people and seeing the difference it makes to their lives.

Did you ever find out what happened to the 13-year-olds sleeping in the gardens in GI?

Yes. The boys sleeping in the garden outside the library were there because there were a lot of issues going on in the home, plus they’d been kicked out of school.

That was back in 2013, and I’m still in contact with them and some of the other young ones from back then. They’ve grown now. Some have jobs, some have their own kids now. It’s been a privilege for me to know them and their families, who I still see around the community.

Give us a brief overview of the roles you’ve got at the moment within the council.

I chair the regulatory and safety committee. That covers bylaws and issues to do with public safety. One of the major things that our communities tell me they want to see some change in is alcohol-related harm. In particular, they’re concerned that there are too many liquor stores in their neighbourhoods — more than what you’d see in the leafy suburbs. That’s something I’ve been able to work on under this portfolio.

I’m also the councillor for Maungakiekie Tāmaki, so along with the local constituent issues, I also have a governing role in the city as an Auckland councillor, along with the mayor and 20 other councillors.

How satisfying has it been? I mean, we’re witnessing change. From December, bottle shops in most parts of Auckland will be closing at 9pm. You’ve worked hard to achieve that result. How is that going to improve what can only be described as a very concerning situation where alcohol is causing huge damage in our families and communities? What’s the most satisfying thing about getting that issue across the line?

For me, it’s the fact that this is what the community called for. It was frustrating to see the local boards having to go and object at liquor licence hearings to try to stop more liquor stores from opening up, and then see the licences being approved anyway.

I suppose the satisfaction is that now we’ve got this alcohol policy in place to effect the change that the communities have been fighting for, for ages. So that’s been good to see. But I need to see it in action to make sure it’s going to work, so that people know that they’ve been heard and there’s been action to try to address it.

But our community sees that we’ve been working on it and fighting for it, and now it’s finally going to happen.

Mayor Wayne Brown is a bit of a polarising figure. He describes himself as a pragmatist, a bit of a straight shooter. What would you say of the mayor and the council processes that he oversees?

I can see what he’s trying to do, because he’s got an engineering background and wants to fix things. But then I also take on board what someone said when they came and presented to us — not to see Auckland as a box of problems. And I think that’s a good point. Because otherwise, we don’t see all the positives and all the good things about our beautiful city. We can get too bogged down in the negative.

And what are the good things about our beautiful city? What is it that you love most about Auckland?

The thing I love about Tāmaki Makaurau is that it’s my home. It’s given me so many opportunities that I wouldn’t have had if my parents had stayed in Sāmoa. This was their dream, their vision and reason for uplifting themselves, and I’m truly grateful to them for their sacrifice and their blood, sweat and tears on the factory floor for a better life for us kids.

What else do I love about this city? I think if anywhere in the world is going to achieve a melting pot, it’s here, because we have so many different cultures — and because this is Aotearoa, we have tangata whenua. Nowhere else in the world do you have Māori as the Indigenous people of the land.

How lucky we are. Where’s your favourite spot in Auckland?

Home.

You live in Panmure?

I live in Panmure, yeah. But because I’m getting older, I’ve been thinking maybe I should move closer to where all my sisters, my girlfriends, are, which is over in Māngere. We all grew up together and all went to McAuley High School where we became lifelong friends.

But then there’s my family. We all live in a kind of rectangle. We’ve got some over in Howick and Half Moon Bay, some over in Glen Innes, some in Saint Johns and Remuera, and some in Panmure. So we all live close together and that’s the other thing I love about it.

You still attend church regularly and love to sing in the choir and play the ukulele?

No, no. That’s not me. But I do try and go to church. Our family has a band, but I don’t have the musical talent.

So what do you do to keep yourself fresh? I always ask this at the end of these conversations because we often talk about the work we do rather than the things we love. I know you’ve got a dog, but what else do you do to keep yourself fresh?

I started reading books again. You’re pretty much smashed after the workday, and then your evenings are meetings and community events. I like to bake and cook. Hang out with my dog, hang out with my family and my friends.

Ka pai. What’s your go-to bake, your famous recipe?

I think I’m getting good with my pagi popo. My coconut buns.

Have you got aspirations to go into central government, or are you happy working in local government?

I’m happy in local government. I already tried for central government. I stood in 2008, which helped me to get out there, so I could run for local government.

I hear cop cars in the background. You’ve got some concerns about gun crime in Auckland. It seems to be happening every day, doesn’t it?

Definitely. And the guns are so easy to get. We need to do more to get guns off the streets. There are so many shootings in our communities and it’s not acceptable. There should not be easy access to guns, and we shouldn’t allow semi-automatics — have we learned nothing from the tragedy of March 15?

But we definitely can’t allow machine guns. Definitely not.

It’s a pleasure talking to you, Josephine. I wish you well. And thanks for being a great advocate for our people in your everyday work.

(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

E-Tangata, 2024