Seeya Soni- Speech for Halswell Anzac service, 25 April 2024
Theme- Through learning comes appreciation.
Mihi
Mōrena ki a koutou katoa
Ko Seeya tōku ingoa
Nō India ōku tipuna
Ko Ganga te awa o te rohe
Nō Ōtautahi ahau
Ko Horomaka tōku kura
Kei te ako tonu au i te reo māori
Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa
Good morning, my name is Seeya Soni and I am a Year 13 student at Hillmorton High
School. My parents were born and raised in India, but we have lived in Christchurch for most
of my life, and within the Hillmorton area for 7 years. I attended Burnside Primary School,
and then Cobham Intermediate. Cobham is where I began debating, and I have continued
that at Hillmorton where I am a part of our debate club. My favourite subjects are History,
Chemistry and Physics, and I am looking forward to studying them alongside Law at
university next year. I am so grateful to have grown up here where our history, young, but
eventful, is taught to be recognised and appreciated.
As a child, I did not understand why Anzac was so important to commemorate. I actually did
not know what it was, except that we got a day off for it. My earliest memory of Anzac was in
primary school, maybe year two or three, when we were given poppy colouring in sheets to
scribble in red. But why? Why should we colour in poppies? Fast forward a few years and I
am in Year 8, happy to be baking Anzac biscuits during Technology at school because they
tasted good. But why? Why should we bake Anzac biscuits? I did not know the story behind
them; how these biscuits were created and sent out to our soldiers because they were
strategically made with ingredients that would not spoil. There is so much history, yet no
questions asked. But taking History at Hillmorton High School has given me a new lens on
how I view the environment around me. The class requires you to be inquisitive and critical,
and I find myself asking 100 more questions, and wanting 100 answers for each. At
Hillmorton, they talk about having a love of learning, which comes from our Mission
Statement. This makes sense to me now because through learning comes appreciation. It is
the same reason that we do mihi to introduce ourselves, or the family tree projects at school.
Learning about where we come from creates appreciation and understanding of it, and that
is how we have come to be gathered here today.
When I was younger, I would not have been standing here like these cadets and scouts are,
showing their respect. Though I cannot turn back time to be a cadet or scout, I realise that it
is never too late to understand; you just have to want to. Anzac day is a huge part of New
Zealand history, and while I am so enlightened, grateful that I was eventually taught this,
learning about New Zealand History was not always a part of our curriculum. In 2015, a
group of students from Ōtorohanga College, a secondary school in the North Island,
delivered a 12,000 signature petition to parliament calling for a statutory day of recognition
for the ‘New Zealand Land Wars’. Alongside them were supporters who called for that
troubled period of New Zealand's history to be officially included in the secondary school
curriculum, and to incorporate a broader, greater focus on learning about New Zealand
History. This petition began after the students visited Ōrākau and Rangiaowhia, sites of two
brutal clashes 150 years ago. Such clashes are important to dissect because of what they
reveal about Māori and Pākehā relationships, to compare the changes with current attitudes,
and it is unbelievable that if those students from Ōtorohanga College had not fought for this
change, we would not be learning about our own history in classrooms today. One of our
school values at Hillmorton is Tūrangawaewae, which means having a place to stand, to
belong to. Discovering your nation establishes your place to stand more than learning about
Tudor England ever could.
I cannot imagine staying the night in Akaroa and not knowing why the town wears a French
mask. My mum and I have taken countless trips to Akaroa, passing Ōnawe without knowing
it was the site of a massacre until about a year ago. In 1832, the chief of Ngāti Toa; Te
Rauparaha, invaded the pa Ngāi Tahu had set up on the Ōnawe peninsula. After much
bloodshed, hundreds were left dead. So many stories lie between our mountains; we just
have to look and listen. It was revolutionary when the new Takapūneke reserve opened in
Akaroa in 2022. Before, the land was used as space for a wastewater treatment plant and
rubbish dump. A complete 180 was made when the local council considered the pressure
from local Māori and were reminded of what happened at Takapūneke; a raid by Ngāti Toa
which ended with dozens of people killed or enslaved. Suddenly, it was important to do
something big to show that we recognised the events at Takapūneke, and so the reserve
was developed. As a history student, this was such a prime example of how through
learning, recognition, comes acknowledgement, appreciation.
I also cannot imagine driving through Blenheim without knowing that the area has one of
New Zealand's oldest archaeological sites of Māori settlement, known as the Wairau Bar,
dating all the way back to around 1250 AD. My appreciation of New Zealand has grown so
quickly in such a short time, because I have learnt about it. Learning is a journey, one that I
look forward to most days, and I am grateful that after all Aotearoa has done for me, I am
finally able to show my respect.
Taking History at Hillmorton has enabled me to learn so much more about New Zealand
history, as one would think. Last year, I was fortunate enough to attend the Social Science
trip to Europe. While we were in Italy, our class visited Monte Cassino, two hours south of
Rome, which once was a WWII battle site. Today, the town features a vast war cemetery
commemorating this. I thought it was so interesting that even though we had come from little
New Zealand, our soldiers were remembered there today. On the bus our teachers handed
us a poppy each to lay by the headstones of the kiwi soldiers, and as we made our way
across the cemetery, I was surprised to see that every row of New Zealand headstones was
lined with crisp poppies. Who did this? When? It would have been a slightly different story if
this cemetery was in New Zealand, because I thought Anzac was our thing. But seeing
poppies on kiwi headstones all the way over in Italy really reinforced how significant Anzac
is, and not just in New Zealand. I would like to thank the Christchurch RSA for giving us the
poppies for our class to lay. We had hoped to help them with locating and providing pictures
of another memorial to our New Zealand soldiers in Monte Cassino, but it was difficult with
our schedule.
2023 was a year of travels. Last summer, my mum and I took a trip up to Wellington for the
week. I was looking forward to visiting the Te Papa museum, mostly to see the giant squid,
but when we got there, we saw posters for a special Gallipoli exhibition. I was like ‘cool,
mum lets go’ and so we had a look through and were amazed to be met with a sculpture of a
soldier almost 3 times the size of the average human. This sculpture was modelled off of
Lieutenant Spencer Westmascott, and was only the first of eight larger than life sculptures to
come. The exhibition was called “Gallipoli: The Scale of Our War”. But I thought; what is
“our”, and does it include me? How does someone know if they’re a part of this “our”? Do
you have to be a native of or to New Zealand? Do you have to be related to someone who
went to Gallipoli? Do you have to have a relative who’s a veteran? When we learn about
New Zealand history in school, terms like “our” and “we” and “us” are often thrown about, but
do all of my classmates relate to that? I believe that you decide whether you are a part of the
“our” and “we” and “us" by choosing to regard the history, and therefore accepting it as your
own.
The exhibition was an immersive experience; letters written by soldiers to their wives were
showcased on the walls. Models of trenches and base camps were decorated with tiny
plastic soldiers. You could pick up a phone and hear commands roared from the other side.
What the soldiers went through was revealed to me in that exhibition, and it was incredibly
overwhelming to see it all, and picture that most of them were not much older than I am. It is
hard to imagine that instead of going to university, these men had to go to war. But the
sculptures we saw were not just of men, there was one of a woman too; a young nurse
called Lottie Le Gallais. This represented the contributions and involvement of not only men
but women also, and showed the kinds of roles had within the conflict. At the time, those
young people, not only those who lost their lives, but also those who returned from war,
would not have thought that their actions would be remembered in New Zealand today with
such reverence, but they deserve this recognition.
A journey I am currently on is learning more about my Indian heritage and the stories of my
ancestors. It is important for me to step back and acknowledge how I am here today. I have
a wero, which means a challenge to you, and that is to be curious about your history, and
always be open to learning.
Ko te manu e kai ana i te miro nōnā te ngahere
Ko te manu e kai ana i te mātauranga nōnā te ao
The bird that consumes the miro owns the forest
The bird that consumes knowledge owns the world
No reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa
