To round off my Matariki month reads, I felt drawn to include something that sits with the other side of the New Zealand experience, the other side of me, of my upbringing, and the histories and experiences many of us Pākehā New Zealanders are wrestling with today. Colonialism struck Aotearoa New Zealand in ways that were irreparable, in ways that are still being felt today, and I have wondered myself what I could possibly do to do right by my Māori tūpuna, my ancestors. Richard Shaw’s The Good Settler, the most recent of several books he has written reflecting on his colonial roots, contains many essays, stories, and thoughts about this subject and more, and I knew it was something I needed to bring into my reading.

‘Where once I saw a view as I drove around the Taranaki coast along State Highway 45, I now see confiscated land from an invasion road. The creation story I used to subscribe to, the one in which hard-working people came here and settled the land, now jars. Weirdly, even the lawn looks different.’ So writes Richard Shaw in his third book examining colonisation in Aotearoa New Zealand. Both have been warmly welcomed by readers and this third volume of powerful essays, with its wide lens, will not disappoint. As he says, ‘Growing numbers of Pākehā find themselves standing on restless ground these days: they, too, are seeing things differently, and in these pages you will also hear their voices as we reach — fitfully and painfully, individually and collectively — for an accommodation with our colonial past.’

When I heard Richard Shaw speak at the Auckland Writers Festival, I felt so happy and proud to see an outspoken Pākehā man saying it as it is and reckoning with his family history, bringing awareness and empassioned words to fellow Pākehā wanting to do better by Māori. His teachings in the short amount of time he had were enlightening, engaging, and really solidified the necessity to confront the colonial histories of our country and our families for everyone’s benefit. He presented on a panel with two esteemed Māori activists, academics, and icons, Margaret Muhu and Tāme Iti, and he really complemented their key points and sentiments, making for a unified and direct message.

In The Good Settler, there are several parts where the dismantling of what was known, what was taught through schools and families, is a core theme. This is such a difficult thing to confront, especially whn it is within yourself, your thinking, how you were raised, and so on. I really commend Richard Shaw for writing about this, for showing this journey he’s been on to rewrite the teachings within him, and for encouraging Pākehā to do the same. This, of course, brings about a lot of charged disagreement and arguments rearding racism, for being anti-white, for being ‘woke’ and ‘preachy’. These are difficult discussions to witness and be a part of, for they are discussions that bring about a lot of pent up thoughts and feelings. They are also the rough conversations that need to be said and shared, for they are the ones that will bring about a change. Racism is not unique to colonial framework and foundations, but it is intrinsically linked through the sheer fact that the party trying to invade or colonise believes themselves to be superior to the native peoples. This ideaology is what needs to be deconstructed, demolished, and completely done away with.

The Good Settler will have you thinking of a lot of things, namely how you have been shaped by teachings you didn’t know left such an imprint on you. I know that I will be taking in all of this, pondering it, working it through in my own context, and seeing how it has impacted me in my everyday life. I will be taking my time with this one, not only because it is worthy of being fully understood in all its nuances and subtleties, but because it is the kind of novel that will serve to reshape and reimagine the world we live in.