Untold stories and meeting to tell them

Otago Daily Times

09-07-2025

For many, the student experience takes place off-campus, in the streets of North Dunedin, on Instagram stories, and within a culture of exclusivity and social capital that is often defined by who-knows-who. As a result, student politics, activism, and engagement with societies, communities, and opportunities frequently go unnoticed.
This raises questions: how do we experience community, trust and support?
Some of the most widely faced issues, like housing, financial stress, and wellbeing, can't be solved by information alone. They require a level of human connection: a sense of being seen, heard and supported by others facing the same challenges.
Some experiences remain especially difficult to name aloud, like those involving sexual harm.
For many students, these stories are held quietly, shaped by shame, fear, or uncertainty.
Initiatives like Thursdays in Black offer vital support, awareness, and solidarity for those navigating these realities. They remind us of the power of being seen and believed.
As poet Maya Angelou wrote: "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."
Her words and her work speak to the importance of creating spaces where individuals can feel strong enough to speak and safe enough to seek support.
Despite being more connected than ever through digital channels, student life can feel fragmented.
The digital connection might be the reason for this. There is a culture of popularity and following that almost breeds an underbelly of nervousness to step out of your comfort zone and push yourself into new spaces.
Reflecting on this, I've decided that I miss school assemblies.
Assemblies serve as a venue where the entire student body can receive messages simultaneously. Notices were shared like announcements about other students' achievements, speakers came and shared stories, choirs and kapa haka performed, and we sang the school song.
It was symbolic, perhaps boring at times, often moving, and always unifying. My friends and I frequently discuss how this nervousness to engage and put oneself out there was largely absent at school, where everyone knew each other and largely supported one another.
Now at university, though the stakes are higher, we no longer gather as a whole unified group, or even large parts of a group, aside from open days and lectures.
The assemblies are gone, and with them a sense of collective orientation and responsibility, as well as a unity of vision and purpose.
For many, the prospect of joining a new group or entering a room of strangers is daunting.
I know it is infeasible to expect the entire population of Otago University to gather in one space or hold one shared purpose, but I can't help but feel that there is a disconnect between groups of people who have the potential to engage but seem lost in the day-to-day slog of university life, where the need for connection is being met on social media rather than in that room of strangers who share an issue, or a passion.
Universities still have centralised communication: emails, notices, and social media posts.
But it feels disjointed at times, or impersonal. Messages arrive daily but disappear just as fast: in the inbox, into the camera roll, on to the walls of bathroom stalls.
It is communication without encounter. Centralisation without connection.
I am currently at Hui-a-Tauira, the National Māori Law Students' conference, organised by Te Hunga Rōia Māori o Aotearoa, the Māori Law Society.
This brings together law students from campuses across the motu. I attended last year and made many new connections.
Here I am reminded of how powerful it is to be in a space where messages are shared not just to you, but with you.
Due to the nature of this conference, there are obvious points in common with other attendees, creating implicit starting points for conversations and connection building.
We are then able to hear about the current legal issues Māori are facing, developments in the law, and listen to talks from a wide range of speakers.
We then leave equipped with strategies to deal with these issues and with meaningful points to share with our friends and whānau when we get home.
The aforementioned nervousness that comes with putting yourself out there is eased once something is shared between people.
However, some students may not realise that the university itself offers opportunities to help them overcome these initial barriers.
Although we don't have university assemblies, we could create something similar, especially when it comes to major, widespread issues like student housing.
The common points of connection that I share with the other tauira at Hui are being Māori and studying law. What if we had an annual or biannual hui to discuss housing?
The commonality would be having some noteworthy experiences while flatting. This could be a space to hear stories, meet people going through similar things, learn about your rights, options, and the support available.
Not a web page or a post, but a room and people. Space to sit, listen and know that your issue is shared and solutions are possible.
These stories aren't just anecdotes — they are patterns, and the stories get reported on and spoken about, not so much the systemic nature of these issues.
I am not trying to undermine the services already available. The poster for SOULS' tenancy programme, in which legal students offer free tenancy advice, is excellent and engages many.
However, I am sure that some kind of hui, where you could bring your flat to, would serve a purpose.
Admittedly, this may not always be feasible due to constraints such as space, funding, or levels of interest — but perhaps there are imaginative ways to work around these realities.
A unifying issue, such as student housing, could demonstrate that there is something valuable to be found in engaging with the on-campus student experience.
Sometimes, all it takes is a room, a story, and a shared meal to begin building something whole — a positive experience born from the bravery of putting oneself out there.
Kind regards,
Grace.
• Dunedin resident Grace Togneri is a fourth-year law student.