Published in Overland Issue 219 Winter 2015 Uncategorized Māori dux Nicole Hawkins When they announced his name his Koro swelled onto the stage to pass on his korowai I shed a tear. When the Kuia called out in a voice which took centuries to create to tautoko her boy I felt the blood in my veins stir. Had I not have been so proud in this moment of this boy I’ve never even spoken to I would have remembered to look at your face. Had I been brave enough to learn that haka when I walked these floors I would have gotten up too. How my angry tears would have rejoiced in the opportunity to startle you from the row behind Arms, legs and fingers trembling from beneath my robe Letting centuries of tīpuna rub your nose in it. Nicole Hawkins Nicole Hawkins hails from Ngāti Kahungunu and Ngāti Pahauwera and has strong connections to the Wairarapa. She grew up on the Kāpiti Coast, where she lives and teaches at a secondary school. Nicole is new to writing and credits her time at Victoria University of Wellington, and her fantastic colleagues and inspiring students for encouraging her writing. More by Nicole Hawkins Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays First published in Overland Issue 228 28 November 202229 November 2022 Film Noirvember at the movies: on the pleasures of personal curation Eloise Ross Watching noir all month, in its many transcontinental variants from the past eighty-odd years, really is a fantastic thing to do. I’m finding connections between films that aren’t obvious, or that might not appear to me without the benefit of such programming and framing. First published in Overland Issue 228 25 November 202228 November 2022 Poetry Poetry | Summer animal Jini Maxwell This summer I can feel myself turning back into an animal. I wake up early and seek out trees, walking through the expansive quiet of the park until the heat starts feeling sharp on my skin. I leave the blinds closed, so when I return home the building is dark and familiar, and as I shut the door behind me I feel a satisfaction I can only describe as territorial.