It is important to have a clear definition of child poverty so that there is a common purpose and agreed goals. The definition we used in the EAG was consistent with international approaches to help us compare ourselves with other countries. We said child poverty is about children who experience deprivation of material resources and income, leaving them unable to enjoy their rights and achieve their full potential. That is the systems level definition that helps with setting goals at government level – in health, education, housing, income, employment, and importantly the rights of the child.
But on a day-to-day basis, one-to-one with children in schools I base it on them, and ask if they have the essentials: warm winter clothes, sturdy shoes that are not worn out, access to a doctor, a separate bed, the opportunity to take part in school trips and sports, fresh fruit and vegetables, living conditions that are not damp or mouldy but warm in winter. If the answer to many of these is No, then this is a child missing out on the essentials and potentially deprived. It is interesting, though, this notion of ‘deprived’, or ‘poor’, or ‘poverty’. It sat well with me (as the analyst) and then did not sit well with me too.
During the consultation process for initial options from the EAG, I travelled to Napier on the east coast of New Zealand. There I met with the local branch of P.A.C.I.F.I.C.A. – a nationwide network of Pasifika women working to strengthen their communities. The room was full of mamas and younger ones from Tongan, Niue, Tokelau, Tahitian, Samoan, Cook Islands, Fiji and Māori ancestry. I gave my stellar eight-slide powerpoint presentation on the state of child poverty in New Zealand and in Pasifika communities. My statistics and pie graphs shone. My bullet points fired. And at the end, I asked for questions and comments. There was silence. Then from the second row a mama said ‘Thank you’ and that she did not like what was being suggested. She made it clear that linking ‘poverty’ to Pasifika peoples is deeply uncomfortable, if not insulting, for many from these diverse communities. Doing so is not necessarily accepted as relevant by Pasifika peoples.
The fact is that most Pasifika families, and therefore their children, do not live in conditions of poverty. There is a concern that stereotypes will be built and then reinforced by linking poverty to Pasifika peoples. ‘Yes’, another said, ‘it’s about deprivation rather than poverty, and it is about relative advantages across New Zealand society.’
My message back to the EAG was that measures used for child poverty need to capture distinct population groups’ worldviews alongside the complexity and context of the issue. How we shape up solutions and actions in social and economics education and elsewhere needs to intentionally work to shatter stereotypical views of Pasifika children and their families, must centre on the ‘actual needs’ (a quote from one of the gathering in Napier) of the child rather than assumptions, and come from a position of strengths. Rather than identity being the locale of problems, identity is the place of advantage. Mila (Mila and Robinson, 2010) says that is ‘Polycultural capital’. Adapting Bourdieu’s theory of social space, ‘polycultural capital’ is the advantage of Pacific second-generation (New Zealand-born) experience from being part of culturally distinctive social spaces. Having Pacific cultural capital as well as capital sourced from the dominant social group is about advantage (not disadvantage).
