
The how-to-run-for-council course aiming to get more diversity into local politics
In the lead-up to the local elections, a new programme aims to diversify the pool of potential candidates and educate them on how to run more effective campaigns. Shanti Mathias reports.
Local government has a representation problem: the candidates who run tend to be older, Pākehā homeowners who don't necessarily reflect the communities they are responsible for. It's something that Jenny Sahng, one of the co-founders of Climate Club Aotearoa, and Patrick Rooney, from the advocacy group The Future is Rail, have seen a lot. 'If you're outside the main centres, it's mostly the same demographics getting elected,' says Sahng.
Rooney and Sahng were involved with the Vote Climate initiative at the last local elections in 2022, helping people find candidates with climate policies in their area using scorecards. But there was a problem. 'In some places, there were just one or two candidates standing, and lots of them were talking about things that local government doesn't do,' Rooney says. 'So rather than saying who to vote for, we thought we could put our energy into developing candidates.'
Glow stands for Governance for Local Wellbeing ('the name didn't take heaps of workshopping… we like that image of a beacon in the darkness,' says Rooney.) It's a 12-week incubator course, mostly consisting of online workshops with chances for networking and receiving support from other candidates. It started at the beginning of May, and will continue until the local elections in October. Candidates are expected to commit two to four hours a week to attend the workshops; the programme is free but there's an option to pay for people who can afford it.
Anyone can sign up, whether they've actually committed to run or are considering it and want to learn more. They have sessions on developing policy, running a campaign and empowering women to participate in local elections. The aim is to make it easier for someone interested in politics and representing their community to go from 'having an idea' to 'actually enrolling as a candidate'.
'We've had a good range of candidates sign up – not just in Auckland and Wellington, but from Timaru, Tasman, Dunedin, Hawke's Bay,' Sahng says. 'The thing is that in local government literally anyone under the age of 50 is in the minority.' The programme is supported by people like former Auckland councillor Pippa Coom and former Wellington Regional councillor Roger Blakeley, as well as Sahng, Rooney and some of the other members of the Climate Club team.
'As a woman of colour and a queer person with a visible disability, I had a lot of concerns about running,' says Anjana Iyer, a Glow participant based in New Lynn, Auckland. She appreciated a recent session with current elected members talking about their experiences. 'I've got a much better grasp of the realities of making change in local government,' she says. 'A lot of the online content feels very utopian, which feels limiting in some ways, but I have a better understanding of what changes and policies you can do.'
While not affiliated with any party, Glow asks candidates to commit to supporting a set of principles, including climate action, public transport, sustainable and accessible housing, supporting Māori wards and community-owned renewable energy. 'We're not running a platform, the solution to different local issues is different in different communities,' says Rooney. The lean is definitely progressive, but candidates can run their campaigns, and develop particular policies, as they see fit.
Operating on a limited budget, part of the programme is to help candidates have better knowledge of how local government works, and run effective campaigns.
One example is the 'blurbs' – a photo and brief biographical statement of candidates with some of their policies in a booklet that is distributed with the postal voting pack. Some candidates don't send photos; others write blurbs that are hard to follow or irrelevant to what local government is responsible for. 'The blurbs are free real estate going to thousands of voters,' Rooney points out. Candidates in Glow can get advice on writing punchy blurbs to make the most of their opportunity to communicate.
'There's a lack of knowledge about what local government does,' Rooney says. With a low barrier to entry, some local government candidates make bold promises to change curriculums or the healthcare system, both of which are very much in the realm of central government. Others might not be clear that a regional council, rather than a city council, is largely responsible for public transport, or the role that councils play in water management. Part of the programme is education: what levers can local government pull? What are the processes of councils and community boards that people can engage in?
Even though local government operates on a smaller scale, with smaller budgets, than much of what central government does, Sahng says it's still a good place to make changes. 'There's so many practical things that people see and engage with that [local government] is responsible for – cycleways, community projects, electricity projects… It really sets the scene for building the kind of community and society we want to live in.'
Could programmes like Glow make a difference to the abysmal voting rates in local government? 'It's a bit of a chicken and egg [scenario] – if there's no one who represents your interests to vote for, why would you vote? Having more candidates should, in theory, increase voter turnout,' Rooney says. There are lots of other factors that impact low turnout, including the postal voting system disadvantaging people who move more often.
Sahng and Rooney don't have any definitive plans to continue Glow past the local elections this year. 'We don't have any success metrics,' Sahng says. After all, the programme has never been tried before. But the hope is that candidates will form organic connections, support networks of other people interested in changing their cities for the better; little seeds planted all over the country. Ideally, some of the participants will get elected. 'We're thinking long term,' Sahng says. 'If you want to run in 2028, standing in 2025 is the best preparation you can get.'
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RNZ News
4 days ago
- RNZ News
'I've had a wonderful life': 90 years of Jim Bolger
Jim Bolger in December 2016. Photo: RNZ Jim Bolger, who was the prime minister between 1990 and 1997, turned 90 on Saturday. He reflected on the last nine decades of his life on Sunday Morning - after having celebrated with a "big gathering" of family, friends, and neighbours. On his political career, Bolger said the biggest issue was to get Pākehā to "face up to the reality that we owed Māori". "We took big steps in the economy, and got the economy going, and all the rest, but the country and society is more than the economy," he said. "Māori ... had been badly, badly treated by the early settlers, we owed Māori redress and change. "I put that higher than managing the books, as it were, with the help of others, and of course you're always helped by others, but the Treaty principles and recognition that the early European settlers did not treat Māori fairly, I think was hugely important." Bolger said he did not understand those, such as David Seymour - who had also been sworn in as deputy prime minister on Saturday - who "want to diminish the role of Māori in New Zealand". "They were here first, they were here very much before everybody else, and they have been part of our history from that time on." He said the current prime minister, Christopher Luxon, needed to tell Seymour "to shut up with his anti-Māori rhetoric" - and to thank Winston Peters for what he's doing in foreign affairs - "because I think he's doing that job well". "Winston's a very interesting political figure, there's no question about it. He's certainly left his mark on politics in New Zealand." Bolger said his Irish ancestry helped him engage emotionally and attitudinally with Māori. "I sort of instinctively knew what it was like to be treated as second-class citizens, and Māori were treated as second-class citizens. And some people still want to do that." Bolger grew up in coastal Taranaki, and said he was not taught "a single word" about the invasion of a pacifist settlement at Parihaka, but was taught about War of the Roses in England. Parihaka Pa, circa 1900, with Mount Taranaki - taken by an unidentified photographer. Photo: Union Steam Ship Company of New Zealand / Ref 1/2-056542-F, Alexander Turnbull Library, Reflecting on his life outside of his political career, he could not say what he was most proud of - "I think it'd be foolish to try and select one over another." He began as a farmer - from helping his neighbour to milk cows at nine, to leaving Ōpunake High School at 15 to work on the family dairy farm, and owning his own near Rahotu at 27. He got married and moved to a sheep and beef farm in Te Kūiti two years later. Bolger then joined the National Party and was an MP, the leader of the opposition, and then the prime minister after National won the 1990 general election. He later became New Zealand's Ambassador to the United States, was elected Chancellor of the University of Waikato, and has been the chairman of a number of state-owned enterprises and other organisations. Bolger was awarded the Queen Elizabeth II Silver Jubilee Medal in 1977, the New Zealand 1990 Commemoration Medal, the New Zealand Suffrage Centennial Medal in 1993, and was appointed a Member of the Order of New Zealand in 1998. He also has nine children and 18 grandchildren. "They were all important and very interesting positions to have, and I enjoyed it," Bolger said. "When you get to 90, and reflecting back over my variety of positions I've had across the world, and the countries I've visited, which are without number, there's so many, that it's just been very fortunate. "I've had a wonderful life with a wonderful wife and family, and it's all been good." As for advice he would give to New Zealanders, Bolger said the main thing would be to listen to others. "Don't try and dictate to them, listen to them, see what they're saying, see what their issues are, see what their concerns are, and then you might be able to make a sensible suggestion to help their lives. "And if you approach it from that direction, you know, how can I help this person or that person, then I'm sure you'll be much more satisfied with your life, and hopefully, they will be better off." Sign up for Ngā Pitopito Kōrero , a daily newsletter curated by our editors and delivered straight to your inbox every weekday.


The Spinoff
5 days ago
- The Spinoff
The migrant dream? My mum's pay equity claim was cancelled and I got a tax cut
Lisa Meto Fox's mum has worked for 20 years as a school administrator. Her most viable retirement plan is her daughter. I am a product of the migrant dream. The day of my graduation from law school, my mother wept tears of joy. We had made it. Her sacrifice, determination and courage had been worthwhile. I now find myself in the bizarre situation where I've received a tax cut thanks to this government's policies, while my mother's pay equity claim has been extinguished. I don't think this is the way the migrant dream is realised. Equal pay for jobs of equal value is the concept pay equity is built on. Something I think most people in New Zealand are on board with. Growing up, the example I often heard to illustrate this point was nursing (female dominated) and policing (male dominated). Nurses were traditionally paid less than police officers. Despite, in many people's minds, both being critical roles in society and of equal value. Why? Traditionally nursing was seen as 'women's work', while policing was seen as 'men's work'. The undervaluing of work predominately performed by women comes from a time when men earned enough to support a family and if women worked outside the home, their options were generally limited to being a nurse or a teacher. If they got married when they were training to be a nurse, they had to leave their training. Being a nurse or a teacher was a good thing because it could make you a better mother. Or so the logic went and now this legacy is baked into our value of work. Pay equity claims are a way of unpicking this structural undervaluing of women's work. Similarly to gender, successive government policies and a cultural attitude (what some would call 'structural racism') about the 'place' of non-white migrants and Māori has meant the embedded undervaluing of work which Pacific and other non-white migrants tend to do. In other words, ethnicity has a compounding effect with gender. With Pacific women, on average, being paid the least in the country. Research shows that the majority of the Pacific pay gap cannot be explained. Pacific people migrated here in numbers starting in the 1960s. The New Zealand government encouraged migration from the Pacific Islands, as they needed workers to bolster the manufacturing industry and to do the jobs Pākehā wouldn't. Not to say there weren't Pākehā in these jobs, because there were, my father included – just not enough. My maternal grandmother, one of my namesakes, came to New Zealand on two occasions, in the mid 1970s, and worked in factories to save up and build our family home which still stands strong and proud in our village in Samoa. In 1984, at age 22, my mother (Tului Fox) and some of her siblings migrated to Aotearoa for a better life both for the family they left in Samoa and the families they would create. At first, Mum and her siblings worked in manufacturing. In 1987, Mum undertook an 18-month secretarial course,, which enabled her to start her career in administration, and her first admin job was in the typing pool at what was then Housing New Zealand. Since 1992, Mum has worked in school administration at Mount Roskill Grammar, at first in the photocopy room. Since then she's worked her way up through various administrative roles and for the past 20 years has been the principal's PA. For a number of years, working full time in school administration didn't provide enough income to make ends meet. Mum had to take on a second job, teaching night classes. Like any good Samoan, Mum helped three of her sisters get roles at the same school. Myself and a number of my cousins attended the school too. One of the 33 pay equity claims that was extinguished by the coalition government was for school administrators. Last year, someone commented on a piece I wrote that my mum is the 'Pacific matriarch' of Mount Roskill Grammar. As is well recorded, particularly in education, many Pacific staff take on duties in addition to their core role, to serve their community – tautua (service) is a core value of Samoan culture. Mum lives the value of tautua by taking on additional responsibilities, such as helping to establish the school's first ever Pasefika Advisory Group (which advises the senior leadership team and board on how to increase Pasefika students' academic achievement), increasing Pasefika representation on the board by encouraging Pasefika parents to join, being a member of the lead team which tracks Pasefika student achievement and connects teachers with students learning needs. Also she is the secretary to the School Board and has a constant stream of students (many Pacific) and parents who seek her out for guidance, advice, a listening ear or to be an advocate. She helps to manage the Samoan group and gives a lot of cultural advice to colleagues. I'm surely not the only person receiving a tax cut who finds it ethically reprehensible that it came from contingencies for low waged workers' pay equity claims. I can hear some people saying well give the tax cut back which I'd gladly do. But that's not the point. To state the obvious – the power of the state is far greater than individual acts. On average, Pacific women earn 25% less than Pākehā men – often referred to as the 'Pacific pay gap'. Successful pay equity claims often result in a 30% wage uplift. If the school administrators pay equity claim was successful it would have gone a long way to reducing the Pacific Pay Gap for mum and her Pacific colleagues. Over a working life, $488,310 is how much less the average Pacific woman makes compared to the average Pākehā man. Mum is nearing retirement, I can't help but think what $488,310 more would have meant for her later years and for us as a family. Mum said she was 'very disappointed' that her pay equity claim was extinguished. 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The Spinoff
28-05-2025
- The Spinoff
The how-to-run-for-council course aiming to get more diversity into local politics
In the lead-up to the local elections, a new programme aims to diversify the pool of potential candidates and educate them on how to run more effective campaigns. Shanti Mathias reports. Local government has a representation problem: the candidates who run tend to be older, Pākehā homeowners who don't necessarily reflect the communities they are responsible for. It's something that Jenny Sahng, one of the co-founders of Climate Club Aotearoa, and Patrick Rooney, from the advocacy group The Future is Rail, have seen a lot. 'If you're outside the main centres, it's mostly the same demographics getting elected,' says Sahng. Rooney and Sahng were involved with the Vote Climate initiative at the last local elections in 2022, helping people find candidates with climate policies in their area using scorecards. But there was a problem. 'In some places, there were just one or two candidates standing, and lots of them were talking about things that local government doesn't do,' Rooney says. 'So rather than saying who to vote for, we thought we could put our energy into developing candidates.' Glow stands for Governance for Local Wellbeing ('the name didn't take heaps of workshopping… we like that image of a beacon in the darkness,' says Rooney.) It's a 12-week incubator course, mostly consisting of online workshops with chances for networking and receiving support from other candidates. It started at the beginning of May, and will continue until the local elections in October. Candidates are expected to commit two to four hours a week to attend the workshops; the programme is free but there's an option to pay for people who can afford it. Anyone can sign up, whether they've actually committed to run or are considering it and want to learn more. They have sessions on developing policy, running a campaign and empowering women to participate in local elections. The aim is to make it easier for someone interested in politics and representing their community to go from 'having an idea' to 'actually enrolling as a candidate'. 'We've had a good range of candidates sign up – not just in Auckland and Wellington, but from Timaru, Tasman, Dunedin, Hawke's Bay,' Sahng says. 'The thing is that in local government literally anyone under the age of 50 is in the minority.' The programme is supported by people like former Auckland councillor Pippa Coom and former Wellington Regional councillor Roger Blakeley, as well as Sahng, Rooney and some of the other members of the Climate Club team. 'As a woman of colour and a queer person with a visible disability, I had a lot of concerns about running,' says Anjana Iyer, a Glow participant based in New Lynn, Auckland. She appreciated a recent session with current elected members talking about their experiences. 'I've got a much better grasp of the realities of making change in local government,' she says. 'A lot of the online content feels very utopian, which feels limiting in some ways, but I have a better understanding of what changes and policies you can do.' While not affiliated with any party, Glow asks candidates to commit to supporting a set of principles, including climate action, public transport, sustainable and accessible housing, supporting Māori wards and community-owned renewable energy. 'We're not running a platform, the solution to different local issues is different in different communities,' says Rooney. The lean is definitely progressive, but candidates can run their campaigns, and develop particular policies, as they see fit. Operating on a limited budget, part of the programme is to help candidates have better knowledge of how local government works, and run effective campaigns. One example is the 'blurbs' – a photo and brief biographical statement of candidates with some of their policies in a booklet that is distributed with the postal voting pack. Some candidates don't send photos; others write blurbs that are hard to follow or irrelevant to what local government is responsible for. 'The blurbs are free real estate going to thousands of voters,' Rooney points out. Candidates in Glow can get advice on writing punchy blurbs to make the most of their opportunity to communicate. 'There's a lack of knowledge about what local government does,' Rooney says. With a low barrier to entry, some local government candidates make bold promises to change curriculums or the healthcare system, both of which are very much in the realm of central government. Others might not be clear that a regional council, rather than a city council, is largely responsible for public transport, or the role that councils play in water management. Part of the programme is education: what levers can local government pull? What are the processes of councils and community boards that people can engage in? Even though local government operates on a smaller scale, with smaller budgets, than much of what central government does, Sahng says it's still a good place to make changes. 'There's so many practical things that people see and engage with that [local government] is responsible for – cycleways, community projects, electricity projects… It really sets the scene for building the kind of community and society we want to live in.' Could programmes like Glow make a difference to the abysmal voting rates in local government? 'It's a bit of a chicken and egg [scenario] – if there's no one who represents your interests to vote for, why would you vote? Having more candidates should, in theory, increase voter turnout,' Rooney says. There are lots of other factors that impact low turnout, including the postal voting system disadvantaging people who move more often. Sahng and Rooney don't have any definitive plans to continue Glow past the local elections this year. 'We don't have any success metrics,' Sahng says. After all, the programme has never been tried before. But the hope is that candidates will form organic connections, support networks of other people interested in changing their cities for the better; little seeds planted all over the country. Ideally, some of the participants will get elected. 'We're thinking long term,' Sahng says. 'If you want to run in 2028, standing in 2025 is the best preparation you can get.'