Redheads We Love

The redhead woman who works at garden centre at the end of our road, where I spend an inordinate amount of time, said to me today: "Oh that's your real hair colour, isn't it?" Since 18 years old I've faired my hair - which naturally wants to be reddish - but these days I'm going for the (red)gold. There was a spark of recognition in her eyes: "Yes, you're one of us."

Redheads clockwise from left: my kangaroo paw, my sister Pietra, Joan Holloway and Princess Merida from Brave


I'm not brave enough to embrace the bright red though (my skin is too ruddy) and I'm kind of disappointed in myself that I don't....I've only been really red in my Sun-In years.

My Sun-In Years...

Both husband Kevin and I both have loads of red hair in our families so I am chuffed to hear that Brave, the new kids' movie about the "feisty redhead" (why are those words always coupled?) is breaking box office records.  The NY Times even did a full page spread on all the hours and days spent considering exactly how her hair should look.

For the past two years my true blue redhead sister Pietra has been quietly filming a documentary about redheads "to celebrate my tribe. What is the point of it? Maybe I want to make redheads into super heroes, thereby exorcising my own demons of growing up a redhead."


Technically red hair is a chromosomal deficiency often coupled with white skin and freckles - making it the rarest (1%) hair colour in humans. It's this rarity that attracts the pain and the fame.

Throughout history, redheads were prized as chosen ones and feared as aggressors. In Polynesia red hair was seen as a sign of a a ruler and in Mediaeval times artists were obsessed with capturing redheaded beauties. Boudica, who led the British uprising against the Roman Empire was always depicted with flowing titian locks (my husband was so taken with the image he wanted to name our daughter after her - overruled.) Joan of Arc was red and Elizabeth 1 took the throne with a copper mane, later replaced with a vertiginous wig.


But redheads are also much ridiculed. Some of the insults my sister Pietra collected in her research: Gin-ga (with a hard "g" all the more damning) Orange Goblin, Piss Brindle, "Freckleface your Dad thinks you're a big disgrace!" "Carrot top, carrot top, catch her quick or else she'll pop" "Redhead, mad as a bar, 'cause the silly little thing has ugly hair!" And F.O.T (F****ing Orange Thing) - which is what redheads are called in the Australian Army.


There is the quiet denial. Recently I heard a mother insist her toddler daughter was a "strawberry blonde" while behind her a family portrait showed the child - with incandescently flaming red hair.


This year I've seen red fast become a by-word for glamour, with rise of actors Jessica Chastain, Bryce Dallas Howard, Emma Stone and lately Damian Lewis (is he the first redhead leading man ever?) in Homeland. Redhead models are all over the magazines, a far cry from when 80's supermodel Angela Dunn was dismissed with the line: "Redheads can't sell yoghurt - or even the fridge to keep it in."


Redhead Joan in Mad Men has paved the way too, as a sure and sexy but most importantly three-dimensional character. Traditionally, the Hitchcock blonde (in this case Betty) emerges as the likeable protagonist. But here Joan steals all our empathy. Funnily enough, in real life actress January Jones is taking a visible break from Betty by dying her hair a very bright red, below.

This is because red has come to mean authenticity. Nicole Kidman lost a certain amount of intrigue when she bleached her red curls to an almost wig-like patinum, Lolo always goes back to her roots when she wants to be taken seriously. Julianne Moore, ever authentic, famously proved she's a real redhead in Short Cuts.

Who's your favourite Red?

Madeleine, my mum

My mum is called Madeleine. I wish I was more like her.

Mum and the kids wearing the beanies she knat 

Tallulah, cousin Cecily (front), Harley, Jackson, Mum and Cy

Mum just left after staying a week with us. She arrived from Ohope Beach, NZ and within hours our lives in Oakland were a little more sorted.  She re-potted all my succulents, tidied our pantry, cleaned the tarnish off the aluminium bowls and scrubbed our cloth chairs clean. After that she undertook the most onerous task of all: helping eight-year-old Cy with his homework.

Mum re-potting my succulents in our backyard

She evinced a sigh of relief from everyone she talked to. Their lives had become a little more sorted too. Was it something she said? Maybe not - it's because she is that increasingly rare thing today -  a good listener. (Ever rarer here in the East Bay, the bumper sticker capital of the world, where many drivers feel the need to display every single opinion they've ever held.)

At my birthday party and throughout the week Mum could be seen in a corner quietly listening to someone; bending her knees, nodding her head, swaying back and forth as they talked about lives. "Oh yes, oh lovely."

She knows a lot about politics said a friend who talks a lot about politics. She knows how to have fun, said a friend as Mum happily watched them dancing. She's very wise, said another friend, though I didn't hear Mum give any advice.

I've long since given up comparing myself to her. "None of you got your mother's looks for a start" my uncle once said to me and my two sisters. (We just laughed, silly old fool) Mum won all the squash tournaments when we were growing up, she now wins all the golf tourneys. She bought up four children without the help of cleaners and babysitters and after-school programmes though she sewed for hours a day to pay for our ballet and tennis and holidays in a caravan. No motels or restaurants or kids clubs.

I can type better that her though. Her "code" emails are classic.

Table tennis tables: "Whereever wil you put it is it an outdors job perhaps it wil fit in THE SHED but what a great idea all the boys in the neibourhood will be around Im going to practice against the side wall just in case I get challenged Had the immediate neighbours around for drinks tonight Lots of laughs M"

What she did today: "Had a lovelyetime and home tomore drizzle Scored the pottle of olives from Linda as she had heaps ofother Garden dippg wet but so much color and Pohutus all out too Tell Pete that a parcel is here from Maine Lve M"

Despite her gentleness, she's never sentimental. On the phone last night I asked her the big questions: What have you learned from life? Oh, I don't know - have a go? she ventured. How have you stayed married for 52 years I asked? She laughs. "Well I suppose just stay there." She laughs again: "People says all sorts of things when they are asked that question and you know it's a damn lie. They say things like: I've been in love for 60 years, what a load of rubbish...What's the alternative is my philosophy."

Mum and Dad 53 years ago, Wellington, NZ

Nevertheless, I know that at the end of her plane and bus journey, Dad will be there to pick her up from the bus, probably an hour early, not wanting to be late.  Her face will light up when she sees him and they will greet each other first in a shy formal way, as if they just met 50-odd years ago. "Hello Madeline" he'll say, stepping in to hug her. "Hello Arthur" she'll say. Then he'll give a laugh, pat her on the bum and load her bag into the boot of their car.

Did you have a good time? Dad will ask as they drive away from the bus stop and they will chat all the way home. And all the way through the sunny afternoon in their sunny house beside the sea...






  

David and a dog called Goldie

We've just done the random draw - the lucky winner of the Lesley Evers Valentine giveaway is Inge of Chic and Cheerful. Inge, congratulations! - and send me your details!


(And today I'm off to Berlin Film Festival to watch my sister's doco - I'll see you there...)


This is Tallulah, ten, and her new dog. We haven't met this wonderfully wet-nosed, tail-wacking galloloping little guy yet, but he is out there. My heart sinks.

Me and my puppy, by Tallulah, 10

All these years with four kids I've resisted getting a pet. "Nothing else in the house that poops" has been my rule. But we've been no match for the pestering powers of a tweeny girl who's filled her two-year campaign with folders, drawings and a ten-page essay about how much she will love him.

My final "yes" came last weekend after reading one of the comments on a New York Times story about the powers of a dog. The comment was a poem by David, written when he was 10 years old, and was so moving it drew 253 responses. David is now a very handsome 16. His mother, Linda, is a friend of mine and she tells their story....

"When my son David and I read the article Wonder Dog in the New York Times it immediately brought to mind our wonderful dog Goldie. David has been autistic since he regressed when he was two. Before that he was talking and playing like any child his age. Over a 3 month period he lost those skills and since then has been non-verbal and considered on the severe end of the autism spectrum. Despite every effort possible (we tried them all sparing no expense or effort) David has not improved.

David loved hugging one of our friend's dog and we debated getting one. David also never slept which made the idea of caring for one more creature just a tad exhausting. One day when he was four, we went Christmas shopping and saw a row of dogs waiting to be adopted on the side walk. One look into that rascally mutt's eyes told us she was the dog for us. 

Goldie and David at home

The rescue agency warned us that she was "exuberant" but that was exactly what we needed. A dog that insisted to be played with. She and David spent many happy hours playing together and I knew that he was safe under her watchful eyes. Once she even pulled me out of the bathroom and to the window to show me that David had gotten out of the house. Lassie had nothing on Goldie!  I often laughed that the mutt from the pound did him more good that all the neurologists and therapists we saw.

David has an amazing mind trapped in a body that does not do what he wants it to. Cuddling Goldie,  David could feel where his hands were, where his body was.

Unfortunately, when David was ten, Goldie died after being hit by a car. We mourned her passing, she was that once-in-a-lifetime dog. David has never learned to speak again, but he has learned to type (albeit painstakingly slow). He once loved writing poetry and wrote this poem in honor of her:

Bye Golden Dream Dog

Dog you are free and
your soft brown eyes see the word as big
your strong fast legs run and run
you are at home in a countryside
you run free.

You are mine Goldie
you were my friend without ignoring me
you were a boy's dream come to life
you knew how I wanted to play
you were friend to me.

Dog you were
fast
fun
free
brave
beautiful
beastly
smart
sunny
superb.
You were Goldie.

We loved you
so goodbye with tears and a toss of a ball
be happy and wait
we will play again.

What is a Weekend?

My latest obsession is the unreservedly snobby Lady Grantham of Downton Abbey, a British drama beginning pre-WW1 and centering on the Crawley family and their servants. Over the Friday to Monday I got a chance to catch up with her. I say "Friday to Monday" because as Lady Grantham enquires: "What is a weekend?"

Lady Grantham with Mary

You see, in the Dowager's world there is no work and every day is a similar round of luncheons and dinners and guests. So, no concept of a "weekend." Weekends, my dear, are beneath you. In fact the posh or "U" thing to say, even later apparently, was "Friday to Monday."

Downton Abbey is the most delectable of period pieces with upstairs downstairs tensions, hunting parties, glorious headgears, late-night dalliances and Dukes up the whazoo. The three sisters are beautiful and complicated, the butler has secrets and what will the sneaky first footman do next. But the star is undoubtedly Lady Grantham, played by Maggie Smith with a battery of icy stare-downs and delightful zingers. See below her encounter with the swivel chair...

In my newly-named not-weekend I stayed home with Jackson and Cy so they could do baseball try-outs. Kevin took Tallulah and Harley skiing.

Instead of boring you with a photo of me in bed watching the telly, here is a kinder image for your eyes... the model from last week's photo shoot, in our bedroom and gazing out to misty skies.

Model Alicia posing in our bedroom

I had hoped to post pictures of me at a wonderful round of parties... instead my dance card was filled with hours on the sidelines of a baseball field, battling whipping winds and rain and having the privilege of overhearing terribly interesting discussions about whether that little person's swing is better than that other little person's.

Jackson and Cy before the try-outs

One thing I don't miss about those Edwardian times though was the place of a young girl. Besides having no rights of inheritance there was a question mark over whether girls should be educated.

Lady Grantham: "Why would you want to go to a real school? You're not a doctor's daughter."
Sybil: "Nobody learns anything from a governess, apart from French and how to curtsy."
Lady Grantham: "What else do you need? Are you thinking of a career in banking?"
Cora: "Things are different in America."
Lady Grantham: "I know. They live in wigwams."

After watching the fashion shoot at our house last week, Tallulah, 10, said: "I'm adding 'photographer' to my list of things to do when I grow up." Her list already includes astronaut, dog-walker, singer and professional soccer player.

Definitely not a model says Tallulah: "There is too much food in the world to love."

Tallulah with her peanut butter sandwich at Alpine

As Lady Grantham would say: "Quite right, my dear." 

Bart and Art

My youngest sister Pietra came to stay for just the weekend. On Friday night she spoke about her work to 60 people gathered at our house. Pietra has spent the last 20 years making documentaries, often following a specific person for up to two years. Her The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins, about the controversial performance-artist Vanessa Beecroft and her passionate efforts to adopt twin Sudanese babies, won awards at Sundance and around the world.

Pietra speaking in our living room

Her current projects include Maori Boy Genius, about a 16-year-old Maori boy's journey to Yale and The Park, a walled garden in Afghanistan (recently named the most dangerous country in the world to be born a woman) where woman can strip off the burqa and - she hopes - will reveal to camera their thoughts and dreams. And What To Do After Winning Two Oscars (a working title) about Indian composer AR Rahman who won two Academy Awards for his soundtrack in Slumdog Millionaire. He is setting up a music conservatorium and insisting that students from the very poor areas of his home town Chennai come for free.

She talked about traveling to Libya for her Beauty Will Save The World, in which Gadaffi tried to soften the world's view of him by staging a beauty pageant. And how she arranged the permission of a local warlord to hire all the males in a village in Northern Afghanistan to clear the side of a mountain and create an airstrip so she and her crew could get out.

Gadaffi and the contestants in Beauty Will Save The World

She has met amazing people and has incredible experiences -  she has been fly-fishing in Ponoi, Russia, rode horses for five days in thigh-deep snow in the Afghanistan mountains and run the gauntlet of guns in an African airport whilst hiding her tapes.  "Scary stuff" whispered one of my friends: "but not as scary as driving a minivan of kids on a field trip."

But I can see it's a tough life. The travel is constant and often rough and dangerous and a lot of time is spent looking for funds rather than the core job of researching, filming and editing. Each film costs up to $400,000 and she must mostly fund herself, going into double mortgage and credit card debt before hopefully grants and investors come through...

More scary stuff the next night when we played broom-ball, a sort of hockey on ice. Don't raise your broomsticks we were warned ...and what was the first thing the men did? (And for the women: wear your high-waisted trousers or risk major whale-tail reveal.)

Kevin, Me and Greg

Me: I got it!  I got it! whaaaaaaHH!

Pietra was back behind the camera the next morning - taking snaps of a surprise birthday brunch for my friend Lesley. Most everyone wore one of their Lesley dresses.

Surprise birthday for Lesley, centre. Me at far right

But in the end, Pietra found herself sharing the weekend also with The Simpsons.

Tallulah, 10, asked Pietra about what she was currently filming and Pietra told her about the Indian composer AR Rahman who most recently wrote the music for 127 Hours, the true story of a climber who fell into a ravine and had to slice off his own arm.

Tallulah's face brightened with recognition: "Oh yes, that was on the The Simpsons - except Homer chopped off the wrong arm."

Later in the day Tallulah heard Pietra talking about The Diving Bell and The Butterfly, the true story of a paralysed journalist who could communicate only by blinking.

"Oh yes" said Tallulah, "That was on The Simpsons too. But instead of blinking, Homer farted."

Pietra has travelled to the four corners of the earth. Had Tallulah absorbed all the same cultural references by simply watching a wacky, albeit brilliant, cartoon show? Thankfully Pietra was able to introduce Tallulah to a cultural phenom she'd never heard of:  Monty Python's The Ministry of Silly Walks. Thank you lovely.

Pietra shows Tallulah one of her silly walks

Can You Have It All?

How many times have you read about a woman who seemingly effortlessly does it all -  family and fabulous multi-career ? Who runs her business sporting swishy hair, trotting around in Jimmy Choos and fresh lipgloss and laughing at the antics of her adorable children playing nearby.

We've been here before on my blog with J-Lo, remember?...In the same light, Gwyneth Paltrow, 29, mother of two, actress, singer, cookbook author, mega-blogger and rock-wife has said: "I don't find it tough to make my own (babyfood). It's much tougher for me to to open a jar that's been sitting on a shelf." "A lot of people get pregnant and they can turn into garbage disposals. I was mindful about what I ate and only gained 30 pounds."

Image: Gwyneth Paltrow, Sugarslam

And Gisele Bundchen, 31, mother and stepmother, supermodel, wife to football star Tom Brady: "When my son eats broccoli, he things it's dessert." "There should be a worldwide law...that mothers should breast feed their babies for six months." "I do everything for them...When I'm home, I'm extremely 100 percent present."

Image: Gisele, US Magazine

It was refreshing this week to get a realistic picture from Lisa Raja, a successful local entrepreneur and mother of two boys, ages three and five. 

Lisa Raja at her store Iniam

Lisa Raja, 36, owns Iniam, in Oakland, my favourite store in the East Bay (and next door, incidentally, to Toast wine bar). It's a light, beautiful boutique of 1,500 ft which sells staples of Milly, Trina Turk, Marc Jacobs., Tibi and Vince along with edgy newcomers such as Harvey Faircloth, 0039 Italy and Sachin +Babi. I was sad to get an email from her saying after six and a half years she was closing the store.

Iniam

The store is both elegant and inviting with Chateau-chic furniture and Tocca candles and perfumes. It seemed so vital and sales so lively that I was surprised it was another casualty of the recession. But I later learned from Lisa that sales were up considerably this year and they were closing for another reason...

The front of Iniam

She wrote in her email: "We made it through a brutal economy, thanks to the support of my loyal customers, and managed to see continued growth in our business despite all of the ups and downs.

"This September my eldest son started Kindergarten, and it hit me that 5 years have just flown by. As much I love Iniam, these precious years with my babies are irreplaceable. Though I love fashion, styling, designing and my relationships with all of (her clients) I was unable to imagine how tough it would be to manage Iniam and my growing family... I found that the time needed at Iniam was not worth the time lost with my family. "

I went in to see Lisa (she was brought up in Houston, Texas and her family is from Punjab) at 9.45am. I think she looks like a modern day Cleopatra, but she shows me the lint on her By Marlene Birgir vest, Sita Murt sweater and black Theory pants. One of her boys hadn't slept well and so she hasn't either, she was feeling queasy from a previous migraine and hasn't had time for a shower yet today "but I will, don't worry..."

Lisa Raja this week at her store Iniam

1. Why are you closing the store?

It wasn't worth what I was sacrificing. I loved my clients and the vendors, they were all lovely and wonderful. Truth be told, I didn't get that rush I once did from my work. In the end, I couldn't justify missing out on these priceless years with my kids for a career that didn't give me the unbridled joy it once did. Iniam was perfect when it was just my husband and I. I could pour myself into work everyday. I had my hand on the store's pulse and could anticipate things before it happened - I loved that. There is this pull now. A pull to play, kiss, and be with my family. This desire is greater than owning/running Iniam.

2. What was your day like then?

It was making the kids' lunches, getting them off to school, working 9.30 to 2pm at the store, then picking up the kids and trying to work done while they napped, then dinner prep, finishing up laundry... I found myself constantly making phone calls and emailing while I was with them. It was always "Mom! Mom!" and I was "Hang on a second." I was always stressed and my patience was wearing thin, they were here and there but they were just being kids. At nap-time my son would say 'Mommy, lay down with me and cuddle.' I needed that time to do emails and I'd say: 'You sleep and I'll come back.' Now he's started Kindergarten and not as nuzzly and affectionate and I think: 'I missed those five years'. I am forever in love and married to this profession -  fashion, styling and design. But I love my kids more.

3. What about hiring a nanny and a cleaner?  

I do have a cleaner once a week. We had a wonderful nanny the first few years, they were magic kids with her.  But the last one, they would try and run away from her.  It would take over a month to train them, I just couldn't do it anymore. My husband is very hands-on but he has a start-up too and is gone long hours.  I am very fortunate my husband is also my business partner. His support has made all the difference in keeping me sane, but still, the stress levels can be so high.

4. What was the most difficult thing about running the store? (pricepoint: dresses of $300 - $500, blouses $200- $350, jeans $150 - $200, coats $600-$900)

The staff (she has two: a manager and a salesperson). The current two have been GREAT! The others were...let's just say - NOT so great! All with a good heart, but they brought  their personal stuff into the store. Between wedding planning on the job or just overall abrasive behavior that alienated my customers, I felt that I couldn't always count on my staff. And truth be told, I was trying to raise my children, amidst all of it. I needed to be the leader at work and with my kids. Finding the balance was tough. When I hired my staff, I thought they would know to take the initiative to manage things like facebook - or the blog or the website. But then I would hear things like: "Oh, I don't feel comfortable with that." They were happy just selling the clothes.

5. Was Oakland a good place to have a business? 

I love Oakland, it's the hidden gem of the Bay Area and people here have a hipper, more edgy mentality. I wouldn't say Oakland is a fashion mecca, but it was a great experience, no downside, great neighbours, wonderful landlords.

6. What is the biggest misconception about running a boutique?

People think because the business is beautiful, that it's easy, that you try on free clothes at the shop, fluff and then go home. In a restaurant you see the activity; the running around, the cleaning, you see the hard work. But a boutique is a business like any other.

7. Your sales were actually up this year - so did the recession affect you at all?

Clients still had the same salaries but the difference is they are afraid. And in this area noone wants to be seen as frivolous. I feel that designer contemporary clothing is a tough market. So many big designers, like Missoni, are doing capsules for cheaper chain retailers like Target or Kohls. Between all the discount designer sites you have to really be on top of your game to continue to see growth.

8. What now? 

I'll take two to four months with the boys....and then I will do something. I love home decor, cooking Indian food and I love any kind of reality shows, all the Housewives and especially X Factor and I'll be catching up on those. 

9. Advice to someone thinking about starting up?

As women, we often psych ourselves out of things. Just go for it! There's a time for everything, my time to finish is now. It's been a great ride.

Our Giveaway today is Tocca sunscreen towelettes. To be in to win simply leave a comment. An extra point for each if you Facebook or Tweet the offer.

Maori Boy Genius

He learned to memorise through the Maori tradition of singing and story telling and almost never takes notes. His first language is Maori and he learned English at four years. At 12 he began his first university degree, at 14 he googled "international politics'' and "education" and he came up with "Yale University." He applied to the Yale summer semester programme at age 15 and was accepted last year at the age of 16.


Who is this boy? His name is Ngaa Ruuira Pumanawawhiti and his journey to Yale is the subject of my sister Pietra's latest documentary, Maori Boy Genius.

Maori Boy Genius: Ngaa (centre) performs the Haka (Maori War Dance) with his iwi (tribe)

Ngaa posses such evident spirituality and charisma that watching even footage of him is strangely moving. You find yourself close to tears. Among his people he is being hailed as a new leader for our confused and troubled age, a visionary who can directly tap into the wisdom of his ancestors.

Ngaa was born in the small coastal New Zealand town of Otaki. He has lived with his retired grandparents (his grandfather worked on the railways and his grandmother was a prison nurse) since the age of eight (customarily the eldest child in a family is given to their grandparents) while Ngaa's five siblings stayed with his parents.

Ngaa: "I follow the footsteps of Tane nui a Rangi, who climbed the great root of knowledge..."

Surrounded by his "iwi" (tribe) he has been educated in the Maori tradition where knowledge is passed down through story telling and songs. That means he seldom takes notes - he simply reads or listens and recites. Ngaa says: "We learnt songs, we learnt dances about everything like fishing. How can you go fishing if you don't know where the fish are? A song will tell us how to look for the fish and we would sing it as we went fishing."

Ngaa kisses his baby sister goodbye before he heads to Yale.

He's also a goofy, gangling 16 year-old Maori boy who loves to hang out with his mates; watching his best friend Riwai -  already a dad at 17 -  practise his old school popping-and-locking dance moves, eating meat pies in his friend Daniel's car and discussing girls.

"His interest is human rights,'' his mother Maakarita says: "He's been talking that way since he was 10.'' But his life is not buried in books or the internet: ``He's still a typical teenager, and he likes to be with his mates.''

Ngaa at Yale last summer

In April I saw Ngaa perform the Haka in the Te Hui Ahurei of Tuhoe, an annual festival. It had taken all night to draw the tattoos (ta Moko) on his and his group's faces and bodies. Ngaa has also smudged his face to try and reflect the environment and look like the bush as his ancestors had done. "He's different that one" said one of his elders.
  

For the past two years Pietra has filmed him with his friends, travelling to Yale (for the summer semester programme) and back again to his family. "There is always the time during the filming process when you know your subjects are sick of you, sick of the camera and wished they'd never agreed to be filmed, exposed, prodded. Ngaa and his family never gave me that impression - they believed that me and my crew were part of Ngaa's kaupapa - or journey - and were committed to the film, because in the end, as he says, this educational/future leader journey is not for him, it is for his people, to bring them out of poverty."

"But please don't think this film is all worthiness" Pietra says: "there is a lot of laughter, especially hanging out with his mates, and a lot of tears when his 5th sibling is born with the whole family around and Ngaa is handed her to be named, and in his extraordinary relationship with his grandfather." 

At a time when a survey of teens just voted spray-tans and the iPhones as the top inventions of all time, Ngaa is passionately political. One look at his Facebook page tells how he champions the rights of the oppressed including his own people who were ousted from their lands, introduced to cigarettes and alcohol and banned from speaking their own language. Today a high percent of young Maori men drop out of High School and end up in prison. 

One of Ngaa's favourite quotes: "We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."

Marching for Maori land rights

Ngaa: "We have come here to show you we will not bow down!"

Ngaa's name is based on an old tribal (Tuhoe) saying: “He uira ki te rangi he tauira ki te whenua....Like lightning in the sky, here is an example on earth.”

But it is Ngaa's grandmother who gently notes: “He’s a Matakite, a Wiseman. But he's also a boy."

The television documentary version of Maori Boy Genius will be screened on Maori Television in New Zealand on Sat November 12 at 8.30pm and repeated Sunday November 27 at 6pm.

P.S. Pietra just emailed me. She is in Copenhagen working on the fine cut of the feature length of this documentary. Molly Stensgaard, - the renowned editor of Lar von Trier films including Cannes winner Dancer In The Dark and this year's Melancholia - has offered to help her with the editing. I'll keep you posted as to when the feature length documentary will appear in film festivals, theatres and on DVD. 

Our Giveaway this week is a traditional Maori Pounamu (Greenstone) necklace, worn by both men and women in New Zealand. To enter simply become a follower and leave a comment. An extra point for each if you Facebook and-or Twitter this offer. I have pictured just two styles - but the winner will have the pick of any of these eleven carvings. Winner will be drawn randomly Friday 11 Nov.

Toki (adze): signifies strength and focus

Hei Matau (fishhook): safe journey over water

Mayor Jean Quan - Show Goes On

It was 7pm on a Monday night...I had cooked two large salmon, ten marinated pork loins,  mixed three bucketloads of salad and arranged cookies and chocolate. The table was groaning with an array of wine and I agonised whether the highly-rated Australian Cab Sav called Ballbuster set the wrong tone. "Wow" said Harley, 13, helpfully: "No one here yet...just as well I like salmon."

Me, Jean Quan and Kevin

I'll be honest - it was tough to stir interest in our fundraiser for Oakland's Mayor  Jean Quan. You might have met Jean here and here. She is a hard-working do-er, a "civil servant" not a politician, who has given back 25% of her salary, $46,000, because of the budget crisis. I wanted to host this evening as Jean was left with a $100,000 debt from her campaign.

By Friday, Evite told us we had 15 yes's and 110 not replied.  We had hoped for around 40 guests, raising a total of about $4,000. Kevin spent two hours walking the streets with the kids and talking to neighbours. On Sunday I spent four hours knocking on more doors. Our friend Sally sent out loads of emails and knocked on doors in her neighbourhood. But there was no way of knowing if people would actually turn up. (And thanks for your advice - calling people and talking face-to-face is the best way. Plus people do reply on the day.)

Oakland is a suprisingly beautiful place to live; 12 minutes across the bridge from San Francisco, three hours from ski mountains. It's a city with world-class restaurants, a soulful arts culture, glittering views of the Bay and lush walks. But also: senseless shootings, heart-breakingly poor schools and a bog of debt. Do you want to hear about this again on Monday night...or watch telly?

Even if, as Julie one of friends from London, says: "She's an historic figure, the first American Chinese woman to be mayor of a major US city."

In the end, we were alright on the night - 45 neighbours turned up including retirees, health workers, at-home mothers and owners of solar, software and electrical companies. The sun shone in the backyard, most of the food was eaten, we raised nearly $4,000. If anyone was appalled by the Ballbuster wine, they didn't say anything.

During the electoral campaign, Jean Quan intrigued with her all-business-all-the-time intensity and her "wonkish" manner. It was her lack of slick that appealed. However, at the party, some felt she could benefit from media training to inject more dynamism and conciseness into her presentation, especially as Oakland is trying to draw big retailers and investors.

She spoke about how all of our unions had agreed to contribute 9 percent of their income and she was positive about her trip to China and Las Vegas to attract investors.

Wendy Wheeler liked that Jean was "pushing for a Shanghai-style night market in Chinatown, which would bring more people downtown to spend money."

Fredi, Jean Quan and Wendy

Some felt Jean should have asked for more input from the audience. Kevin Dobbs said: "Jean may be very capable but she can’t run the city on her own, she needs to get more of the citizens involved. I think it's admirable that she wants to interact and work with the underprivileged communities but if she really wants to improve and move Oakland forward she must engage with the citizens in the Hills and all of small and medium-sized businesses. Not sure if she is comfortable doing that. Probably one of the reasons it was tough getting people to attend this."

Another said: "I came away more impressed with Jean but didn’t have a real high bar going in. She is taking small steps but really needs to have a grand vision. We need a 25-year plan. She only has 8 years."

How does she see Oakland in 25 years?  Next morning, on the way to camp my kids sang: "Then I detour, Oakland out to Auckland" from the current constant-loop-on-the-radio song The Show Goes On. Could Oakland ever be the Auckland of the Bay Area, a multi-culti playground of shops, shine, water and fun?

Hardest working mayor in the country. But will hard work be enough, some ask. I really don't know...this is the woman who was underestimated by her election opponent, a powerful politician with $2m to spend. As the song says, she keeps "letting 'em know."

Raise them til your arms tired, let em know you there.
That you struggling, surviving that you gon persevere yea
Aint nobody leavin, nobody going home
Even if they turn the lights out, the show is going on -
 Lupe Fiasco, The Show Goes On

My Day With Jean Quan, Mayor of Oakland

Last time we saw Jean Quan, she was at a campaigning party in our living room. A couple of months later she was the Mayor of Oakland, dining with President Obama at the White House. Not saying if I invite you round you'll then meet Barak Obama, but...

Me and Jean Quan at East Oakland's Castlemont High School

It's been five months since Jean Quan, 61, took over as Mayor and I was keen to follow her for a day. After an long-ish email exchange with three of her incredibly friendly staff I got a message on Friday that Saturday was good. Could I pick up Jean from her house at 8.30am for a day which would end at 10pm?

My husband, Kevin, laughed: "Poor Jean, she's going to sit in our smelly minivan all day?" The next morning I plucked two chicken bones, three half-eaten apples, four crusty socks and two unidentified objects off the car floor, brushed down the seat and headed out. It was too late to do anything about the whiff of sour yogurt.

State of the City: Poor Jean alright. What has she inherited? A city with a shortfall over next two years of $58 million despite previous cuts of more $170 million, unemployment of nearly 17% and increased home robberies, though the murder rate has dropped. The huge issue is that police and firemen consume two thirds of the budget and police. Police don't have to contribute to their pensions which can be $100,000 per year on retiring at 50. (We would have to make contributions of $1million at age 45 to receive this pension).

Mayor Jean Quan with family at her inauguration. Photo by Acontraluz-Photo.com

Relations with the police got off to a rocky start when the chief resigned but a quiet dinner cleared the air and there's now hope the police will step up and agree to contribute. Nonetheless Jean Quan describes her three budget options as: The Bad, The Really Bad and The Really Ugly. "I am trying" says Jean " to do the least amount of harm."

It's always all hands on deck with Jean. I had already realised that if you're around her, you're working too. She never complains about anything; long days, angry people, being hungry. In the nine hours I was with her she ate half a chicken sandwich and a bagel. "I never ask others to do something I wouldn't do myself, " she says. And she never mentioned the car smell once, though she did wind down the window at one stage.

Jean and her assistant Hatzune

David vs Goliath: All the media cliches came out last November in the mayoral elections which became a "David and Goliath" fight.  Councilwomen Jean Quan with funds of $400,000 vs Don Perata, a former state senate president and one of the most powerful Democrats in California with the backing of the police and prison workers unions and $2million-plus to spend. One small example of their differences was the frontlawn signs they distributed. Perata's were new, slick and obviously professionally designed. Jean Quan used her old council signs and taped in the word "Mayor."

In a cliffhanger result, Jean Quan became the first Asian-American woman to become mayor of a major US city (Oakland pop. 390,724) winning by using a grassroots campaigning method her team called Block By Block.

Jean Quan, her husband, Floyd Huen, 63, together with their children Lailan, 29, William, 32, and many volunteers walked most of the streets in the City - 85 precincts.  Over 11 months they knocked on nearly 30,000 doors and talked to whomever answered. Floyd and Jean turned up to around 50 doors a day and100 in the weekend days. Floyd lost 20 lbs and Jean lost 7lbs. Jean also spoke at 220 "house parties" all over town including tattoo parlours, fancy restaurants and homes that were about to have power cut off. The toughest crowd were the prisoners at San Quentin who had done days of research on the issues.

Via Block by Block Campaign

She made time to educate people about the new rank choice voting and won the election because she proved to be a more popular second and third choice.

Home and Family: I drove the ten minutes from my house on a crisp, bright spring day to Jean's ranch-style home in the old hilly leafy Oakmore district. The bought it in 1983 for $245,000 and recently mortgaged it to pay for part of her mayoral campaign, leaving them with a $100,000 debt. At the door is a vast collection of potted succulents in various stages of life and old gift baskets. The house of a very busy person. Later she tells me she's just finally "broken down" and hired a gardener: "I'm cheap" she says, adding that she hems her own trousers, strings her own bead necklaces and cooks all the food for her holiday parties including prime rib for 200 guests.

I peek through the side fence to the wide, blue views of Oakland. I'm 15 minutes early and Floyd answers the door. I was hoping to take some pictures of Jean inside the house before we leave, I said. "Sorry" he says, "it's so untidy in there, we haven't picked up since the campaign. Do you mind waiting outside?"

Floyd re-emerges with tie in hand on his way to work - he is  a physician and gerontologist with the Over-60 Health Centre and former medical director at Highland Hospital. He tells me that usually Jean gets up at 6.30am and spends an hour reading work papers and picking her clothes. Many years ago a fellow school board member told Jean: "If you put on lipstick and wear high heels maybe the men wouldn't be so scared of you!" These days more than 1000 people a day meet her so she takes more care. Today she's "slept-in" until 7.30am.

Floyd and Jean met at Berkeley in the summer of 1968 when she was 18. He was her boss at an outreach programme for minorities: "She was wearing a short Mexican dress and had long hair, pretty and shy. Yes, quiet, it's hard to believe now, she has become so much more outgoing...She was quite sheltered and I taught her to ride a bike and drive a car." Though dating others at the time, they started riding to political meeting on Floyd's motorcycle. They were married in his backyard.

Jean and Floyd's wedding day. Photo courtesy of Quan Huen family.

Through children, jobs and activism they have always tried to maintain Saturday "date night." They love eating out - working their way through Zagat guidebook - and watching movies, their favourites being Forrest Gump and  Seven Samurai, two movies about common people fighting for their interests.

Jean's recent trip to China was one of the few times they've been separated: "Everything we do, we do together," Floyd says and when I compliment him later on their wedding photo: "I feel like we were beautiful together."

Jean comes out with wet hair, loose heather-green cardigan, long black skirt, flat green shoes and a green garnet necklace that she's beaded herself. I ask if I can take some photos. I need to comb my hair she says, going back inside. She takes the old holiday wreath off the door and I take some snaps of her.

Jean Quan at her front door in Oakmore

Jean usually gets whomever she's going with to drive so she can answer texts and calls on her iPhone with the pink cover. Tapping in, she reads about a shooting from last night. She has asked to be informed of every shooting. Then she notices garbage along the motorway and immediately calls one of her staff to get it picked up: "Caltrans is slacking off.

Jean Quan is softly spoken, easy to approach, serious and all-business all the time. My attempts to chat were always diverted into politics. She does not respond to gossip. She answers the same queries about budget and crime all day and yet each time she delivered the answer fresh as if she had heard the question for the first time.

She must have faced a hostile or, at best, indifferent police force (my words). But she has been to 11 police line-ups  - shifts -  ranging from 11pm to 6am to meet as many of them as she can. As far as I can see this is how Jean does things -  turning up, turning up, listening, unemotionally returning your complaints with a factual and lengthy response, then solutions and phone numbers with department heads or agencies. Then turning tables -  presenting you with ways to help others. Then she's back again -  turning up, remembering you, asking what you're done about your complaint. You're worn down. You're with her.

We arrive at the Walk To End Poverty on Lake Merritt to highlight the plight of nearly 80,000 Oakland residents who live in poverty, one of every five children here.  For a family of four that means living on less than $22,000 a year. Jean Quan recognises many of walkers and even knows which senior centres have not turned up.

In between talking to the steady stream of people who approach her, Jean puts down her bag and her coffee and takes photos for her newsletter." Are you stretching for the walk?" she asks Summer Neal, aged three. "That's so cute. Let me take your picture."

Jean takes a picture of Summer Neal stretching

She is always polite, considerate but firm about not being late to the next meeting: "Walk with me" she says when people approach her. "Two minutes" she says during the day when people stand up to ask her a question.

And I have found someone who takes more photos than me. "I want to introduce Oakland to itself" she asks me to stop on the road a couple of times so she can take more snaps with her Nikkon.

Jean taking pictures for her newsletter

We head to Peralta Elementary School in a comfortable relaxed area of North Oakland, where 40 locals gather to hear about the three options for the budget and make their objections. The we head towards the grittier East Oakland for Castlemont High School. This is the 7th of the Saturday Town Hall meetings Jean promised when she took office.

East Oakland gets a say: 300 locals have turned up today making a total attendance of these new meeting 2,500. These three-hours meetings, all held at local schools are organised by both council and community. Jean introduces her department heads to the people.  We then break off into 10 groups including "education" and "social justice."  The local people air their issues and together with the  department heads work out solutions. Always solutions -  Jean tells me she didn't want this forum to disintegrate into just complaining.

Castlemont High is a well-kept, lively school with a swish new auditorium, a legacy of Jean's days on the School Board and her insistence on seismic retro-fitting. The former building was dangerous and consequently demolished. (At the time Jean got a lot of flack for calling attention to the deficiencies of these buildings.)

We are directed into a parking spot by some friendly, helpful men who are part of an organisation for former criminals. Around 50 of the East Bay Dragon Motorcycle Club have turned up and Tobie, their president since 1959, says: "We're here to support Jean. How is she doing? Let's wait and see. What I see is huge damn violence, shooting and cutting and I was broken into and had all my clothes stolen and they were real clean (stylish) like these..." he says pointing to the yellow crocodile shoes he bought in LA.

Tobie, president of East Bay Dragon Motorcyle Club since 1959

The principal and a school board member speak passionately about how much they love this school and one of their exemplary students Jelani Noble plays the piano.

Far left, school board member Alice Spearman and middle, Principal Matin Abdel Qawi

All of Jean's 16 department heads wear leis and each head up to microphone, give a little blurb and their phone numbers.  The head of public works says: "615-5566 Hotline. Report potholes! Welcome!" Jean calls out from the side: "It works! I take pictures of potholes and send them to him all the time!"  From the head of Police: "Since we're giving numbers... 911!"

I mean to scoot around to each of the "break-out" groups but the public safety one is too compelling. Each of the 40 locals in the break-out group has something to say. Six cars dumped on my street, one crashed into our mailbox. Kids' donuts on our street. Drug dealing right in front of our house. "Extra curricular activity" in our front yard and we have to clean up the debris every morning. Tagging, the precursor to gang activity, just hit our street. Took 20 minutes for a fire truck to get to a school teachers' house, it burned down. Parked cars for sale or being fixed on the street. My grandson was a good boy and he was gunned down. I heard a gunshot and saw a man dead on the street. All the kids are smoking dope on the street when I come home from lunch. Unattended pit bulls in our street.  We need grocery stores, not liquor stores. Kids driving both ways on a one way street. My grandson was shot on McArthur, the police treated us like we were nothing...

The final one: Someone says the sewers in their street haven't worked for years with overflowing fecal matter on the street. I am starting to feel really depressed about all the anecdotes but at every turn Jean is always looking for the solution: "Where's the public workers for the sewer ladies? Raise your hands, make sure you get hold of each other."

Andrea and sons Chevalo and Derek talk about the number of kids hanging around their street waiting to break in. "It seems like Jean Quan is around and doing what she can to help, "says Andrea.

Andrea and her sons Chevalo and Derek

Jean is worried about federal cuts eliminating the mayors' programme which usually provided 500 youth summer jobs. Every time she sees people from schools, gyms, churches and rec centres she asks them about staying open for the youth in the weekends, late on Friday and Saturday night and through the summer. When she meet potential mentors including 100 Black Men, Men of Valor and Oakland Black Cowboys she asks them about what they can do to help.

Childhood: Before the meeting I had cornered Jean in the car to ask a few questions.  I had been surprised that Jean hasn't been extensively profiled, the exception being an excellent article by Cecily Burt in the Oakland Tribune. In that Jean Quan remembers a childhood in Livermore being teased: "I was the only Chinese kid and it was very hard...People would say 'Ching Chung Chinaman' and 'You're a Jap'.  So I was pretty intense and shy.' Her father died of lung cancer when she was five and her mother, who could not speak English or read, ran a restaurant and took in piece work from a garment factory.

Young Jean. Photo courtesy of Quan Huen family 

What made her an activist? Voted at her high school "most likely to succeed," as a sophomore at UC Berkeley she was cited for posting a flier urging a boycott of the cafeteria for selling grapes (to protest the poor treatment of migrant workers). This is the first time I see her emotions come to the fore. "The Dean dragged my mother in and threatened her, told her I was going to lose my scholarship". Her mother cried. "That made me so angry that he tried to intimidate that poor woman, she was illiterate, working all the time." Up until then she had been a "good girl, a good student, I had never lost my temper." Amid that scene of rascism, arrogance and institutionalism her activism was born.

Jean with other  health activists in NYC. Photo courtesy of Quan Huen family

Visibility: "People think I'm doing a good job though they really don't know what I'm doing."

"Jean doesn't do a lot of double talk" says a former fellow parent at Skyline High School (an Oakland public school) Andrew Spider Norris, 59, AC Transit retiree and now web designer says:"She says what she can do and can't do. She's bringing people together now because she's visible."

"So many people ask me; are you tough enough?" says Jean Quan,  "You don't need to be tough, you have to listen."

Posterity: What does she want to be remembered for? "Who knows what people will say about you, it may have nothing to do with the reality of what you have done." Despite twenty years of service authoring improvements to schools, parks and saving libraries, as well as a myriad of other issues including closing the Hillcrest Hotel which harboured child prostitution, preserving education recreation and after-school programmes and helping ban the use of styrofoam,  she garnered the biggest headlines for voting to recognise Ebonics, or black English.

Energizer Bunny on Steroids.  Outside I meet Sue Piper, 62, who's worked with Jean Quan for 20 years as a parent activist and now in her office: "She is like the energizer bunny on steroids."

"Jean is one of the brightest people I have ever met.  Jean is not about Jean. It's never been about her, it's what can she can do for you. She doesn't like the intrigue. She's very respectful, very civil, very loyal and caring. I always say there are politicians and public servants and Jean is a public servant."

Tomorrow morning Jean is off to a trade show in Vegas to sell Oakland to retailers and she will miss a budget meeting, a first for her, and the regret is palpable. "I want to do both."

Lailan Huen, 29, says her mother is tireless. She and her brother grew up hearing politics every dinner time at 6pm when her mother always cooked, often a dish from countries they visited on their vacations or her scholarships. When her mother was running for Oakland School Board in 1990, brother William, then 12, pedalled his bike to all 16,000 homes in their area to deliver Jean's message and Lailan, then 8, licked the stamps.

On the mayoral campaign Lailan says: "We'd get to Sat night around 7pm and everyone else was thinking about going home. She would be like -  there's still a little bit of light, what's the next street, give me another clipboard." Or: "We would be talking and she would have raced ahead to cover a whole block herself."

What about her sense of humour?  Lailan pauses: "She's quite serious...she has her own sense of humour, but I get my seriousness from her, it's straight to work, straight to business."

Jean camping with Lailan and William in Yosemite. Photo courtesy of Quan Huen family.

We head off to the Malcolm X Jazz Festival in the young, hip multi-cultural area of Eastside. Does Jean ever relax? As we get out of the car Jean tells me she loves to vacation in foreign countries. But I already know from her husband and daughter that vacation involves more than six museums a day and enormous background research into the history of the country. What will you do after this, I ask her. "If I'm lucky I'll do two terms and after that I'll be very, very tired. Maybe grandchildren..." Lying on the beach, I ask? Lying anywhere? No, she says, she'll always have a cause to work for.

Her staff trims her 500 emails a day down to 50 but still she finds it hard to turn down an invitation. Her schedule is public and "I accept more than my staff would." Walking at the festival, Sean Wright and Ron Lusk walk up to her to tell her about a foundation they have started: "If you have a fundraiser I will come" she promises.

Until then I had seen her listening, often smiling, mostly serious and always calm and absorbed. But when Floyd walked up, she beamed. Not date night but she seems so happy. The wind lifted her hair, swished her skirt around and she put her arm around her husband for my photo.

Floyd and Jean

Spoken word poems and rap music filled the air as the sun shone down on the Oakland Jean Quan has worked for most of her life.  A city that has murders, carjacking and schools where kids can't learn. A city with glossy stores, world-class restaurants, kids with talent and heart, parents and teachers who care so much. A city with green hills and heartbreakingly beautiful views of the Bay.

It's 5.30pm and I'm exhausted. After this festival they are heading to a fundraiser in Oakland's Chinatown and then Independence Day celebrations in Richmond for the East Bay Eritrean community. They will end their day at 10pm. I'll leave you here, I say.

They stride down the hill toward the festival, the sky still bright. "We can get something to eat," I heard her say to Floyd. And she was off.