Te Waka Emanaaki rises from the ashes

Tu Tangata, Issue 6, 1 June 1982, Page 16

Te Waka Emanaaki rises from the ashes

Juliet Ashton

A year ago the Te Waka Emanaaki Trust drawn from central Wellington’s Black Power gang lay in tatters.

Key members were either still inside or just out of prison. The trust had no money, no equipment and, worst of all, no work. Police were regularly called to the groups headquarters in Kinsington St to break up violent brawls. Today has a thriving vegetable garden and a partially built skills workshop, two trucks, a business card and an almost clean police record for the last few months. Working alongside trust members during this quiet transformation has been the newly formed but extremely active Whanganui-a-Tara Maori committee to which Black Power members Ray Harris and Whare Moke belong.

Maraea Harper’s Maori language students burly, black-jacketed and tattooed stare intently at the papers in front of them, smoke spiralling upward from half a dozen lighted cigarettes. Dark bushy beards, tangled dreadlocks obsure the young impassive faces. None of their class speaks Maori and their responses are hesitating. Maraea asks a question of one of the downbent heads. “Come on,” she prompts, gently. Self-consciously he mumbles a reply. Maraea, Maori warden and Whanganui-a-Tara committee member takes the language classes each Friday as part of the programme of work and cultural skills which the trust is building up.

In another room assistant city missioner Sam Ferris uses a makeshift blackboard to explain marae etiquette. “First,” he says “I want to tell you fellas how to approach a marae.” Later he hopes to start carving classes. Friday afternoons are set aside for education. The other four and a half week days are for work. “Eighteen months ago,” says Black Power leader Ray Harris, fishing cigarettes from a patch low down on his faded denims, “there were 30 guys here drinking 70 dozen a week. At this time of day (midday) if they were out of prison they’d be drinking.” He gestures round the big, starkly furnished room, empty except for two youths playing pool quietly.

“Police’d be doing regular checks. A couple of the boys’d go down town, get drunk and rob someone. Now they don’t have the time.” The Kensington St house worn, battered round the edges but tidy is in the process of being extended into a skills centre. Demolition of an old shed over thb road provided wood for the double garage-cum-workshop. The concrete foundations have already been laid next door to the house. The workshop is one of two work skills development projects currently providing some regular income for trust members and a base for developing a skills/education programme. Ray Harris has been involved in the work trust since it was first set up, under another name, in the 70’s.

He was responsible for the name change to Te Waka Emanaaki “the canoe of caring”. At first the trust prospered, bringing in up to SIOO,OOO a year in private contracts at its peak. But toward the end of the 70’s things started to go wrong. Private contracts dropped off dramatically, some of the gang shifted away and several of the leaders, including Ray, went to prison. When he came out the trust was barely in existence. It had no funds, no equipment and Kensington St had a bad reputation with the law. Ray, short, stocky, tough, and articulate, says, “The worst thing was no one would employ us.” Supported by the fledgling Maori committee the trust managed to get a few demolition contracts which gave it a start in money and materials. Through the Labour Department they got two works skills programmes going building the workshop and cultivating a big vegetable garden which provides ample for their needs and surplus for marae, kokiri units, and community houses. Trust members get between SBO and

slßo a week depending on age for the skills project. They are given SSO for spending and the rest is banked. “We’ve got to teach them to budget,” Ray says. “Its the first time they’ve had money in the bank”. Some of the younger ones have their own bank accounts while older members wages go into the trust with all debits and credits carefully noted. Bookkeeping is done by Ray, secretary Whare Moke and Maori committee chairman Bill Maung who is also a trustee. Everyone chips in $5 a day for a cooked lunch. “That way everyone gets a good meal and if they’re not working it makes them feel guilty,” Ray says, grinning. He says private contract work for the trust is on the increase. “We’ve got expertise a carver, two carpenters, an electrician. We’re getting small contracts. The city council’s providing some work and we’re tendering against other people now.” He and Whare organise the contracts. Money from these private jobs goes straight back into the trust to buy equipment, pay for overhead, the occasional holiday and even, recently, a SIOO donation to the Tongan Relief

Fund. It also pays the fines though there has been a concerted effort to reduce these. “I tell the guys “have a fight here, we don’t charge,” Ray says. “Its better than going to court next day and paying a fine.” The trust’s population is a floating one usually around 12 or 15 strong but with people moving through all the time. When youths from up country hit town, Ray says, they do not go to Maori Affairs. Instead they head straight for Kensington St. As well as its status as a gang house “They know we’ve got it made”, “they know there’s food in this house,” Ray says. “But you have to get up in the morning and go to work. It’s not the pattern they’ve been used to. There’s no need to rip anyone off.” It has taken a year to get this far. Now with a relatively stable environment, regular work and food, the trust is pushing for more emphasis on education and cultural skills. It is trying to set up a marae, together with the Whanganui-a-Tara Maori committee. The relationship between the trust and the committee a small but lively group determined to represent the con-

cerns of the “grassroots” in its community is a two way thing which has grown up over the last 12 months. Ray and Whare are both on the committee and Whare is a delegate to the District Maori Council. The participation in a group which is part of the overall New Zealand Maori Council structure has helped bring the gang out of isolation and back into contact with the community. Both trust and committee members feel a marae is a major priority. They say it is urgently needed as a sort of “safe house” where anyone can go and feel secure enough to talk, listen and learn, and as a focus for activities. A temporary site in Aro St is being investigated and several Maori elders have agreed to take on responsibilities of elders. The Te Waka Emanaaki Trust has made great strides in the last year but it will never make vast profits. Its aim is to install in those who pass through some knowledge of how to live and work and keep out of trouble in the city. Some of the boys only stay two or three weeks Ray Harris says, but if they pick up some of the basics before moving on then that’s fine. (Acknowledgement Dominion)