From classroom to newsroom
Clinton's Cosmic Chronicle is due to roll off the press tomorrow, a unique space-newspaper filled with astronomical observations and published by Clinton Primary School's Room 4 "Wairuna".
The rise of the famous star-cluster known as Matariki in New Zealand will be celebrated on Friday, June 20 and has already navigated the 10 to 12-year-old, year 6-8 class to study and explore the whole solar system.
For much of the term they have been hitting the books and internet for data, and the format chosen by the class and their teachers, Yovandi Allnut and Cindy Harliwich, to collect and deliver the whole news-team's findings to friends and whanau was their tabloid-sized, special-issue newspaper.
"The funnest part was creative writing," Anna Powley, 12, said.
"I'd rather write fiction, so tying specific facts and details together into something I hope should be fun to read was a really good challenge."
Working in small groups and as individuals, the children found themselves working the print process, producing practical, traditional news media while they learned about the final frontiers of science and technology and managed everything from lead-story layout and headlines to advertising and puzzles.
"I think by combining the of studying space with the newspaper style has kept them super interested, and they've worked really hard," co-teacher Cindy Harliwich said.
"We've focused on gathering information and checking facts and found the biggest challenge is writing bullet-point lists into flowing stories."
The student-journalists have applied the 5Ws and found their angles to bring news from the heavens to the breakfast and coffee tables of Clinton, with the special edition Cosmic Chronicle.
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Newsroom
09-07-2025
- Newsroom
Book of the Week: Nadine vs impatient Pākehā climate change activists
I find myself instinctively reaching for the new essay collection Slowing the Sun by Nadine Hura on two significant occasions. The first was under the blanket of Mount Manaia, the mountain on my Ngāpuhi side, the night before mum received her moko kauae. Mum is the first in six generations to bring the moko kauae back into our whakapapa. The second was on the dawn of Matariki, before welcoming in the new year with whānau from Ngāti Te Ata, on our whenua in Waiuku. Like a companion, Slowing the Sun travelled with me over the last few months. Not just through physical places, but transporting me back to moments and seasons of my own life. The way I was drawn to Nadine's words during these moments is not a coincidence. It is a testament to her gift as a writer, the ability to ground the reader while moving through sacred moments. In a Radio New Zealand interview with Mihingarangi Forbes, Nadine spoke about how climate change is always discussed as an issue of emissions. But in a Māori worldview, nothing is separated. We are deeply in relationship with one another. Slowing the Sun speaks to this, inspired by the overwhelming complexity of climate change. In the opening chapter, we meet Hank Dunn. I really like Hank. Hank has survived five shipwrecks. Hank has had scraps with Tangaroa. Hank and Nadine find each other at a swanky climate change conference full of scientists and researchers. It is through Hank's eyes—and the storytelling of Nadine—that her book begins to take shape. Climate change, Nadine shows us, has been wrapped up in scenic, carbon-heavy language. But in meeting Hank and walking through Nadine's life with her, we're reminded that most of us, the everyday, ordinary people, are actually more like Hank and Nadine. When environmental scientists start speaking in jargon, so many of us tune out (I know I do). Most of us already know climate change is a massively devastating issue, so how do we connect it back to our everyday lives? This feels like a good time to tell you as a side note or disclaimer that I know the author. (I sent her this review for her to read first before I filed it.) I first met Nadine around seven years ago. We met through Te Papa Tupu, a mentoring programme for emerging Māori writers run by the Māori Literature Trust. I was a young, bright-eyed, aspiring author. At the time, I couldn't speak te reo Māori and couldn't tell you where my marae up north was. I remember one moment in a wānanga when Nadine stood up and spoke. Hearing her speak was like watching a vessel open. She was wildly unapologetic and cared so deeply about injustice and the world. How do you even become like that, I asked myself. Later, on a trip to the Sydney Writers' Festival with Te Papa Tupu, I asked Nadine if I could hang out with her for the day. She said sure, and that we could go on a bike ride. What I thought would be a casual bike ride through Sydney turned into an unofficial tour. We stopped at every statue of every colonial figure and studied what was written on the plaque. Then Nadine would tell me the real history and what these figures actually did. While we were biking, I barraged her with so many questions and since that day, I've never stopped lol. We were in Sydney for a week but this was the most memorable part of that trip, a gentle nudge that set me on the path of coming home. This is how I'd describe Nadine's writing. There is intention in every word she writes, every sentence she places on the page is space for you to unfold into yourself, to come to your own conclusions, to relate your own life experiences, a mirror looking back at you. One of my favourite chapters is the essay titled 'Who Gets to Be an Ordinary New Zealander?' Nadine writes that she wasn't meant to speak—she didn't want to speak—but did in fact speak at a conference with politicians, environmental scientists, and a nice lady who found her hiding behind a pole. She took the mic and delivered a mic drop by telling the climate activists in the room: 'Not all of us are equally responsible for climate change, and not all of us are equally affected.' The reactions of those in the room made me laugh. There were groans, side eyes, the impatience of Pākehā environmental activists who had come to tick boxes and pass resolutions. But what was deeply moving about this moment is why Nadine spoke up. She was thinking about her father, who 'lost his hearing to heavy machinery and his language to shame.' She could have easily been writing about my own dad. Her father, a hard-working man who spent his life in jobs defined as 'unskilled.' The way she connected her father to climate change is something I had never done before with my own father. I was struck by this—by her ability to make those connections throughout the book. The way Nadine writes grief is perhaps the most poignant and moving part of this collection. Grief, like climate change, touches everything, and Nadine shows us this through the death of her brother Darren. The title essay is the one that has stayed with me the most. Nadine says it was through the grief of losing her brother that she came to realise how deeply connected climate change is to his suicide. By the end of the book, I had come to know Darren intimately, and I gained a deeper understanding of whakamomori—the te ao Māori perspective of suicide—and his experiences through his sister's eyes. Slowing the Sun is about love, loss, grief, hope, beauty. Each essay offers a glimpse into Nadine's life: the joy of a lover, the grief of losing her brother, the relationship with her father. This is what climate change is—it's connected to everything. The night before Mum got her moko kauae, I found myself wrapped up in the essay 'A thing of the heart, a love letter to Te Ataarangi', dedicated to te reo Māori and coming back home. I began to reflect on my own te reo Māori journey that started five years ago and how at the time, I never would have imagined that Mum would receive her moko kauae. It wasn't even in my sphere of thought because my family felt so far from te ao Māori. Now being on my whenua—both at Mount Manaia and Waiuku— is a normal thing for me. It never used to be. Te reo Māori and coming home has brought my family closer together. We have turned towards ourselves, to indigenous ways of being, rather than away. That's why we want to look after the whenua, to protect it. That's how Hank survived his shipwreck. Through whakapapa. I was meant to finish this review a long time ago, but Slowing the Sun is a book I didn't want to or couldn't rush. It is so beautifully, delicately, radically perfect, a book that needs to be savoured, underlined, highlighted, with a lot of notes and Post-it tags. Nadine captures it beautifully when she writes how, 'Māori communities aren't captured by the deficit language of climate change….People on the ground talk about Indigenous reclamation, constitutional transformation, anti-colonialism, radical dreaming, joy, creativity, pride, and a future seven generations bright.' And this is how it's always been for Indigenous people. We look seven generations ahead as we imagine a better world to leave for our future descendants. I loved Slowing the Sun. It's a companion that will continue to traverse with me throughout my lifetime. The essay collection Slowing the Sun by Nadine Hura (Bridget Williams Books, $39.99) is available in bookstores nationwide.
Otago Daily Times
03-07-2025
- Otago Daily Times
Matariki market a smash hit
Selling their tacos at the Cromwell College Matariki Market are (from left) Mikayla Veeran, Sasi Avirineni, Cooper Harrison and Ella Sangster. PHOTO: KIM BOWDEN Junior chefs, homegrown products, fiery rockets and stargazing — Matariki celebrations transformed Cromwell College's new technology and art block into a buzzing evening market last month. Year seven students created food stalls for the now annual event, developing everything from the menu to the branding and pricing, before serving up their tasty treats to paying customers on the night. Sasi Avirineni, part of a crew selling tacos, said building the business had been fun because they had been given "lots of freedom to choose what we did". "We got to use our ideas and be creative, which made it exciting." It was all go on the night, especially when their stall "slowly ran out of one ingredient at a time", she said, but it didn't stop the rave reviews. "Our customers enjoyed our tacos. They said they loved how quickly we made them and also loved our customer service — we gave our first customer a discount." Lead teacher Sophie Lee said it was satisfying to see it all come together on the night for the pupils. "They get such a buzz from selling their products and hopefully have gained some valuable business experience along the way. "The support from whanau on the night was awesome." Beyond the food stalls, science "buskers" drew crowds with hydrogen explosions and fiery rocket experiments, while telescopes were trained on the stars. Principal Mason Stretch said the Matariki celebration was an opportunity for the school community to connect and share kai, learning and time. "We were also excited to welcome whānau into our stunning new technology and art facility. "There was learning on display across faculty areas, live music, year 12 and 13 business studies students promoting and selling their products and the hugely popular year 7 food markets. "I am very proud of the mahi and the manaaki [care] by our students and staff and thank our whānau for contributing to such a special evening."
Otago Daily Times
28-06-2025
- Otago Daily Times
No Matariki cluster but beautiful sunrise
The crowd were still treated to views of other stars and planets. PHOTOS: SUPPLIED Waitaki District Council hosted its annual stargazing event with Māori astronomer David McNamara last week as part of Matariki celebrations. Between 25 and 30 people gathered at Cape Wanbrow Lookout to try to catch a glimpse of Matariki or Puanga star clusters last Thursday morning. Unfortunately, it was mostly covered by the clouds, Waitaki District Council community educator and engagement officer Lisa Jane Potaka-Ross said. "However, other parts of the sky were clear with excellent visibility and star guide Damien McNamara was able to point out stars, planets and galaxies and share knowledge of what could be seen from a te ao Māori perspective. Clouds impeded a group from seeing Matariki or Puanga from Cape Wanbrow Lookout last week. "To close the event, those gathered sang a selection of waiata, still hoping that the beloved Matariki cluster might make a show but treated instead to the first rays of a beautiful sunrise." This was the fifth time a stargazing event has been held and Ms Potaka-Ross was pleased to see a mix of first-timers and those returning. "Clearly it is becoming a whānau tradition for some. "Numbers were slightly down but there have been several Matariki celebrations in the community this year so people are choosing which events they wish to attend to mark the occasion. "The time of Matariki, the Māori new year, and the public holiday that we now observe are coming to be celebrated by all New Zealanders as authentic and unique to our people and our place on the planet."
