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In Search of the Grateful Immigrant
As we shuffle somnolently towards another election neutered by cliché (‘growing the economy’) and idiotic consensus (that NZ’s ‘zero carbon’ ambitions will have any effect at all on climate change), potentially more important long term issues are being overlooked.
Like the on-going mutation of our country from one with a distinct national identity to little more than an immigrant parking space.
Don’t misunderstand me. I like immigrants. The fact that they have chosen, out of all the world, to make New Zealand their home should fill those of us born here with pride. Immigrants are often more patriotic than those of us born here; more aware of what makes New Zealand better than most places on the planet. Like the man who flirts with your wife, they make you appreciate what you’ve got.
However, in recent weeks, my faith in imported Kiwis has been challenged. They are beginning to look a mite ungrateful.
Take for example the newly triumphant UFC fighter, Israel Adesanya. Mr Adesanya grabbed front-page news last week with his assertion that he didn’t realise “being black was a problem until I got to New Zealand”. As evidence that “being black was a problem” in New Zealand, he offered a childhood reminiscence of being bullied at his Whanganui primary school. Loath as I am to disagree with a man who routinely beats the crap out of other men for a living (and I pray to God he never finds out where I live), this isn’t evidence of anything. Children are bullied for being different in any way – fatter, smaller, hairier, poorer, richer, smellier. Does the fact that my red-headed friend in primary school got called “ginger nuts” well into high school reflect any widespread national prejudice against gingers? I would argue no, as many go on to live rich and rewarding lives despite their affliction. I’m told one even writes for Insight: Politics magazine.
During the BLM protest ‘gathering’ in Auckland’s Aotea Square, Mr Adesanya elaborated on the terrible treatment he had received from his fellow countrymen because of his skin colour. Apparently, they are scared to get in elevators with him. I would suggest that might be more to do with him looking like one mean motor scooter – in fact like a man who beats up others for a living – than the colour of his skin. He would be just as scary in bright pink. Let’s test this premise shall we:
Yep, still wouldn’t want to get in an elevator with him.
Man, I really hope he never finds out where I live.
To antagonise him further, I’m willing to bet that I, John Black, a melanin-deprived Pakeha have faced as much racism in New Zealand as Mr Adesanya ever has. During my high school years in Northland, a place not undersupplied with indigenous folk, the insult ‘honkey’ or ‘white boy’ was sometimes slung my way. On two occasions this erupted into violence – the worst involved being shoved against a wall and half-strangled.
This has not soured my view of my indigenous brethren nor caused me to characterise my country as ‘racist’.
And yet Mr Adesanya, has condemned us all for lesser offences.
A week prior to Mr Adesanya’s outburst, Auckland Grammar was in trouble for allowing a ‘racist’ skit to take place where Asian students were given ‘Oscar’ awards for doing well in math and science. How devastating it must be to be characterised as smart and diligent. Some weeks before that a Muslim shop keeper in Wellington was compelled to share anti-Muslim remarks by a customer with the media.
I’m sure there are happy immigrants out there, thankful for all New Zealand has to offer. They are just not news to our self-lacerating, progressive media class.
No one expects immigrants to bow and scrape before us, but can’t we expect a smidgen of gratitude? Or at the very least a well-balanced appraisal of their new country’s weaknesses?
After all, New Zealand frequently ranks highly in international surveys as a country very welcoming to immigrants. We even give them Halberg awards. Mr Adesanya may have faced some prejudice in his youth but he should measure this against our awarding him ‘Sportsman of the Year’ and providing a launching pad for his impressive MMA fighting career.
Many of us grew up with the ‘moaning Pom’ stereotype. Recent arrivals from the U.K., acting more like exiles than willing expats, always pointing out the deficiencies of their new home. In my recollection they were invariably heavy-set male trade unionists and part-time soccer coaches in their 50s. They were roundly mocked for being miserable bastards and either moderated their behaviour or buggered off back to Blighty.
Fast forward to the present day and an immigrant with a beef is front page news.
What’s changed?
The cult of multi-cult has knocked our national self-confidence.
We are not ‘a nation of immigrants’. Many of us are third, fourth or fifth generation New Zealanders, and if Maori, even more than that. We should be proud of the nation our antecedents built. And take offence when some trash talking Muhammad Ali wannabe puts it down on the international stage.
Now, I really, really hope he never finds out where I live.
Or if he does, I hope the pen really is mightier than the sword…or a roundhouse kick to the kidneys.
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