When whānau sit on the other side of the fence: Four tips for staying in relationship / Dr Fiona Langridge
Imagine you are in a global pandemic. There are life-saving options, which don’t just protect yourself but also your loved ones, and the community you serve. These interventions are safe, effective, and the best measures available. They require a level of trust, and sacrifice in order to provide the protection required to save lives. Now place that pandemic into a global context with a longstanding history of tribalism, exploitation and corruption. So here we are, landed in a crisis with no country or community unaffected, tainted by the contamination of human imperfection. And here we are facing a crisis within a crisis, where families are fighting with friends who are fighting with leaders who are fighting with families who are fighting with each other, and round and round it goes.
I, for one, have decided to stay off that non-merry go round as it is a ride going nowhere. The only way to explain why and how, is to start by introducing myself. Ko Fiona Langridge tōku ingoa. I am a Pākehā/Palagi, who lives in Tāmaki Makaurau. I grew up in Papua New Guinea and because of that the Pacific is my tūrangawaewae. I am a daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunty and friend. Other labels I have had are Physiotherapist (paediatrics), Doctor (PhD Pacific child health), and even Pastor (by-proxy of my husband). My employed work is in child health research in Aotearoa and the Pacific, and my voluntary work is serving my church community. I have a deep faith which prioritises doing justice, loving mercy and walking humbly. These are the lenses through which I view the world, and this pandemic.
Through those lenses I have observed individuals and communities who are extraordinarily responding to need, with no thought of, or receipt of recognition. People reaching out to others whether it be by connection or provision. I have also seen the impact of prolific fear-centred messaging, laced with hateful language. The machine of algorithms churning up extreme thought, behaviour and actions. This juxtaposition of love and fear, is an allegorical representation of so many things, from our global and political climate right down to the status of our individual human hearts.
It is our choice which approach we take in these times and my choice has been to employ a spirit of love and generosity in the way I interact with loved ones, regardless of their position.
This approach has come firstly from a place of relationship. Our family have chosen to embrace as many people in life as we can. We have always had an open home policy (within public health constraints), and have intentionally chosen to ensure the people in our world are not all like us. Our favourite thing is to sit with others to learn more about who they are and in turn we find out more about who we are. It is an honour to have countless people in our relational circles whom we trust and trust us.
Relationship is an interesting thing, not easily gained, but easily lost. There are disciplines attached to maintaining good relationship, and these are the tools I have employed with friends and whānau during these confusing times. Tools such as love, patience, kindness, forgiveness, self control and selflessness. Tools which actively work to unite, because my first motivation is to preserve relationship. We are nothing if we don’t have each other.
Secondly my approach has been from a position of genuine concern for others. The motivation is not to convince or coerce, but to share from my own humanity the worries I have at this time. To tell my stories. Stories about growing up in a country where children have been dying unnecessarily even before the global pandemic. Stories of working in hospitals, ICUs, wards and the community, and treating the unwell, and those impacted by injustice, inequity, poverty and violence. Stories of serving Pacific nations as a health researcher, knowing the little I can offer is nothing compared to the battle my colleagues fight for tiny amounts of resource in their health systems. Our stories are powerful, and no-one can take them away from us. We must both tell our own stories, and listen to the stories of others.
Thirdly I consider how my actions and my fellow believers’ actions appear to those looking on. I have been concerned with how we, as people of faith, are being viewed at this time. So I don’t just avoid poor behaviour, I also actively pursue excellent conduct. Our identity as people of faith, is directly related to how we love and treat each other. Keeping this front of mind keeps responses and actions in check.
My final approach has been to use the skills I have honed over many years to serve others, without allowing ego to be the driver. What I have seen from the majority of my health and science colleagues, has not been public outbursts or demands to be listened to, but rather humble and careful use of their expertise to serve their communities at a time when they are stretched both professionally and personally. So whatever skillset you carry, whether it be baking, building, or even praying, use it to practically support your friends and whānau who are confused or fearful.
One of the most important considerations is, at what point to start and to stop when trying to bridge differences in opinion. A good way to answer this is to ask another two questions – is this something I can change by entering into, or continuing this discussion? And – is this discussion worth me risking loss of relationship, mana, or reputation of my faith, over? These are tricky times, and for many it is deeply distressing, so adding to the distress does not help anyone. Our first job is to come alongside, and to love. Not forgetting, though, we are in a global pandemic and people’s lives are at stake. So we also can’t avoid conversations completely, as this may be a missed opportunity to protect our loved ones and the wider community. It is a fine balance.
Ultimately we have the freedom to choose which approach we take, and also have the ability to set people free by our words and actions. When we go into ‘un-lockdown’, as my seven year old says, my prayer is that we will again be known primarily because of our love for one another, and our mission of service to others.
There are other excellent resources with practical outlines on how to support friends and whānau at this time such as this spinoff article and Covid-19 information sheets from The Workshop. When Lambs Are Silent also has these pieces which carry a similar theme: The Government is not creating division: We are., "I was anti-vax, now I'm double jabbed.", In 2004 I marched with Tamaki's black shirts.
Dr Fiona Langridge PhD MSc BHSc is a child health researcher, clinician and advocate. She has experience in global health for children, specifically the Pacific and has worked as a paediatric physiotherapist and developmental coordinator with children and communities in Aotearoa, New Zealand and the United Kingdom. She is currently working as a research fellow at The University of Auckland. Alongside this she supports her husband in leading a church congregation in Manukau City.
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