The panel discussion titled 'The Power of Community' sparked a profound conversation about the unifying force of community. This event brought together a diverse group of speakers—Tina Makereti, Sara Qasem, Bariz Shah, and presenter Mahdis Azarmandi—to explore how human connections transcend boundaries, offer solace in times of turmoil, and ignite profound transformations. However, the panel also examined how community can sometimes be the underlying cause of division, micro and macro violence, and breakdowns. Our panellists discussed both sides of community, and ultimately connected these themes to their identities and writings.
Each panellist shared their unique journeys, from grappling with identity to navigating the intricate dance between personal and collective resilience. The discussion centred around the pressing issues faced by many minority communities across the world today and explored the power of people encountering one another and fostering relationships. The evening took us on a journey through readings, poetry, and personal stories that touched on themes of violence, identity, and the complex idea of belonging. Despite the sadness, loneliness, and colonial trauma discussed, the event also highlighted the strength of community, as beautifully articulated by Mahdis Azarmandi, who stated,
"We don't stand for the gruesomeness of this world but stand with the possibilities of what happens when we come together."
Tina Makereti, author and co-editor of Black Marks on the White Page, shared an excerpt from her latest work, The Mires, written while living on the Kāpiti Coast. The book focuses on the friendship between a Māori family and a refugee family, intertwining issues of colonialism and climate change. Tina’s reading resonated with the audience, as many of us have stories rooted in a place that might not be where we currently live or feel connected to. Her narrative speaks to the power of migration and movement, reminding us that while we have ancestral roots, we can always grow new ones in another place.
Bariz Shah, who came to Aotearoa New Zealand after his family was forced to flee war-torn Afghanistan in the 1980s, shared his story of feeling lost in his cultural identity and sense of belonging. After spending time in an Auckland prison at eighteen, he turned his life around, earning an engineering honours degree and becoming president of the UC Muslim Students Association. Following the horrific March 15th attacks, Bariz and his wife, Saba, travelled to Afghanistan, using the $20,000 he had fundraised to support 51 microbusinesses in Kabul and Jalalabad, honouring the fifty-one lives lost.
In his book Beyond Hope, Bariz describes himself as an ‘edgewalker,’ someone who struggles to understand where their identity lies. When he returns to Afghanistan, he no longer feels a part of that community, and when he is in Aotearoa New Zealand, he also feels lost. However, Bariz now embraces the idea that one does not need to be tied down to one place. He enjoys being a traveller and believes that:
"this world is only temporary—travel lightly, give as much to the place I am in, but leave as little of an imprint as possible."
Sara Qasem, a Palestinian writer based in Ōtautahi with a background in teaching, shared her journey of grief and the importance of advocating for marginalised communities. She spoke about how community is an integral part of her and her family’s story, and she reflected on the complexities of belonging in Aotearoa as a Muslim Palestinian immigrant woman.
Tina Makereti also described her identity as ‘paradoxical’, being half Māori on her mother’s side and half Pākehā New Zealander on her father’s. She shared how being bicultural or multicultural can sometimes feel confusing and isolating, as one can belong to more than one place but struggle to bring all these strands together. Tina explained that on her mother’s side, she has six marae to return to and can trace her whakapapa back at least six generations. In contrast, on her father’s side, she has only uncovered a small amount of genealogy and lacks a strong sense of place, especially as she grew up with her father and has felt displaced from a young age. She found solace in reading other immigrant stories, seeking reflections of herself in them. Hearing these stories highlighted how multifaceted the world is and showed that, despite our differences, we can relate to one another in ways we might not even realise.
The wonderful presenter Mahdis made a poignant comment during the session that has really stuck with me and is something I think I will continue to use, rather than asking someone ‘where are you from?’, she suggests using ‘where are you a local?’. I absolutely love this idea because the place we are in now may not be tied to us through our ancestors or genealogy, however, if it feels like home and we want to stay here, you may feel conflicted about explaining ‘where you are from’ when you just want to be treated as a local, as part of this community.
As Sara begins reading one of her poems, I tried hard to stop myself from tearing up. Spoken word poetry just has a way of really making you think and learn and feel like you are walking in that person’s shoes. Sara’s poem was raw, beautiful, broken and healing all at once. Her poem which is part of a collection she is working on is titled ‘immigrant’ and really speaks to the immigrant experience and the odyssey of her whānau being here today. I truly look forward to the day, we can embrace Sara’s published work as I truly believe that so many people, including myself can relate to her poetry.
The discussion gradually shifts to the topic of labels. While labels can provide a sense of identity and belonging, fostering a feeling of community, they can also lead to division and hatred. Sara addresses this by emphasizing that true community involves recognizing our differences as strengths and leveraging them to seize crucial opportunities for social action. This includes reflecting on the Christchurch attacks, Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and ongoing global issues like the situation in Palestine.
I thoroughly enjoyed the discussion, which offered multiple perspectives and prompted deep reflection. Bariz argued that the challenge of labels extends beyond the ‘immigrant struggle’ to affect non-minority groups like Pākehā New Zealanders. He does not see himself as a victim but pointed out that Pākehā New Zealanders, who once identified as part of the British colony in the 1950s, now face a similar sense of disconnection as minority communities. Bariz proposed a powerful idea: identifying a core element within each community to serve as a foundation for confidence, strength, and greater willingness to contribute. For him, faith and mosque attendance are central to his community’s positive spirit. To illustrate his point, he read an insightful and thought-provoking letter from his book, A Letter to a Terrorist.
Lastly, Mahdis begins to slowly wrap the session up with a final question to leave us all thinking.
‘How do you navigate writing about violence in both micro and macro ways as people who also experience the violence that you write about?’
Sara, without over complicating her answer, simply states that it is her ‘lived experiences’ and as a poet and writer, she hopes that with her purpose in life of sharing her experiences, her family’s and community’s experiences, her words will move someone and create a space for reflection and realisation that this is not a ‘Muslim issue, not a March fifteenth issue, this is much greater than that’
Tina explained that translating microaggressions of violence into writing is particularly challenging because it’s the ‘big noisy stuff’—the horrific, identifiable events—that is easier to address. She grapples with how to navigate these issues in her writing as both Māori and Pākehā, without encroaching on the lived experiences of others or appropriating their cultures. The challenge lies in creating literature that stimulates discussion without inserting oneself into another community’s narrative. Effective writing in this area requires thorough research and respectful engagement, yet it's often clear when a work lacks an authentic voice. Tina has noticed other people being warned off from writing Māori as non- Māori. She leaves us with a thought-provoking question:
“How do you talk about your relationship with Māori if you can’t write about Māori?”
The event concluded with Sara reading her second poem, “Labels,” which was deeply moving and inspired me to explore more diverse readings. This poem holds special significance for Sara as it was the first she ever shared publicly. Tina also read an excerpt from her book, providing a fitting end to the event.
The panel then opened up to audience questions, followed by enthusiastic applause. The speakers engaged with attendees and signed books for eager readers. It was an incredible event, and I gained valuable insights into the power of community from the panellists’ discussions.
Jemimah
Hapori, Tūranga
More by the writers
- Books by Tina Makereti
- Books by Bariz Shah
More WORD Christchurch
- Our WORD Christchurch 2024 page - event reports and books by Festival writers
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