Tony Watkins

Teaching is not the same as education.

When Ivan Illich was staying down at Karaka Bay we talked one morning over breakfast about education. At the conclusion Jenny, who was around ten at the time, reached for the phone and rang her school. "I won't be coming to school today." she explained "I want to devote the day to education rather than teaching."

Orators move the debate forward.

I found myself in a darkened room with thirty people who had no interest whatsoever in anything I was saying. More importantly I realised they were not going to do anything about the issues which concerned me. They were only there because their papers had been accepted, and their world was introverted beyond belief.
 
I walked out into the sun and joined up with a group who had decided they could end the Cold War. Several years later I ended up looking down the barrel of a gun in the middle of the Velvet Revolution. We changed the world.

Irritants can be a source of creative energy.

Learning takes place at the edge.

We lie more through habit than malice.

 
The "research" reports suggested that traditional housing had not survived. Much had, but a great deal of it had been burnt by fires resulting from the failure of contemporary infrastructure.

Talking becomes an excuse for not acting.

Enthusiasm is contagious.

You can do anything if you believe.

I announced that in six weeks time three of the class, none of whom I had ever met before, would be in Nairobi for the Second Preparatory Committee for Habitat II, the United Nations "Cities Summit".
 
There was a brief flicker of interest before the students went back to sleep. It was much later before they realised that designers are interested in results, not boring policies.

Education means giving the power away.

It then seemed that there was a nightmare riding in from left field. Who should go? How should we decide? The students sorted it all out among themselves with a dazzling maturity which left me astonished.
 
Then a bombshell broke. The New Zealand Government decided that it could not fund an official delegation to go the Nairobi. When you have built up enthusiasm it seems cruel to destroy it. We decided to go anyway.
 
At the airport the students were full of enthusiasm, and their parents had absolute confidence in me. I looked over my shoulder and there was no one standing behind me.

Education is a risky business.

Waking up on their first morning in a no-star motel in Nairobi the students realised they were in trouble. On their way in from the airport they had passed the United Nations compound. It was encircled by a high concrete fence topped with razor wire. How were they to get in? They consulted my list, Their aim was a little high when they rang Reuben Mutiso, the Head of the host Kenyan Delegation. Fortunately I had rung Reuben, an old Arc-Peace friend, the night before to ask him to keep an eye out for any lost students.
 
Reuben sent a chauffeur and a car with a fluttering Kenyan pendant. The students still did not know how they were going to get in. The steel doors swung open. Everyone saluted. They walked up the red carpet on the steps to a rapturous welcome. Nametags were waiting.

Fencing wire is a cultural position.

 
The students asked if there was a xerox copier. Their surprise at the negative response led to an explanation that the UN had several copiers, but none of them were working.
 
The skills training the students had received at the University of Auckland was suddenly and unexpectedly useful. They were accustomed to coaxing equipment back in to life around midnight, and breaking security codes. With screwdrivers from the local hardware store they soon had their own copier.
 
The Chairpersons of the Committees did not. No documentation was available to begin negotiations. The students were able to help out. Before long France, and then China, and then a queue of other countries, were seeking help from the students.

The older generation will never catch up.

Vanessa, an Australian I had met in Copenhagen at WSSD, was really helpful. She tossed the students the key to her office as she went home, with a strict instruction that the students were to be gone in the morning, with no sign of them ever having been there.
 
The students were able to hook her computer up to my one at Karaka Bay. It was something I could never have done, although I had explained the theory to them. The time difference worked to our advantage. While everyone in Nairobi was sleeping the rest of the class could work on documentation and strategy.
 
We had experimented with interactive participation before, first in Chicago and then in Copenhagen, but this was the first time that we had been successful. The whole class was now a team. We needed all the resources we could get.
 
When United Nations began work for the day the New Zealand report on the day before and the New Zealand recommendations for the day ahead were available in hard copy for all the delegates, thanks to "our" computer and "our" copier.
 
The students became the New Zealand delegation, with their efficiency and leadership gaining admiration and respect.
 
The oldest of the students was less than half the age of the youngest other delegate in Nairobi. I suspect there might have been a little envy around the negotiating tables.

Changing the world is an art, not a science.

The core mission of the United Nations is to achieve peace. Recognising that most of the architectural problems of the next twenty years will be in cities Habitat II by now  was being called the Cities Summit.
 
Putting together "cities" and "peace" the idea of "Peaceful Cities" was born. It was a simple idea which could be translated into many languages. It was powerful. It was creative and positive. It became the key idea which New Zealand could realise on the global stage.

You learn about tenacity by being tenacious.

By now the students had become skilled negotiators. They had achieved their core objective. They had set about changing the world. They had also realised that it was their idea, and they were on their own.
 
Two of them took the initiative to go to New York for the Third Preparatory Committee to defend their accomplishments.
 
Some ground was lost, but not much. New York is very different from Nairobi. It was a steep learning curve. An entrenched bureaucracy does not welcome change. Nairobi had been a necessary preparation.

Everyone needs to take initiatives.

It was the students who finally convinced Bob Harvey that he ought to go to Nairobi for Habitat II. Even then he did not intend to stay.
 
I arranged for him to speak at the Mayors Forum for Peace. The standing ovation and stamping of feet changed his plans. He realised he could make a difference. Bob shouted us all lavish lunches which were of course also briefing and reporting meetings.
 
It was Bob who got Don McKinnon out of bed in the middle of the night to convince him that the New Zealand Ambassador's speech needed to be rewritten. I would never have had the nerve. Don convinced the Government.
 
After it was all over I nominated Bob for the Mayors for Peace Prize, which he won. He was flown to Stockholm for the Award Ceremony.
 
He recently returned from a meeting of Mayors for Peace in New York. The story goes on.

Having teams is not the same as teamwork.

The students arrived in Istanbul ahead of me, and they found the perfect hotel, right next to the venue. They negotiated the perfect price because the place was being renovated, just like the rest of Istanbul.
 
We took different roles, with an intensive breakfast meeting each morning to agree on strategies for the day ahead. Megan and Mark handled Committee One, meshing the documentation together and selecting speakers. It was the first time that any NGO documentation had been accepted by the UN and the first time that NGOs had had official speakers at a UN Conference. After many years the ideal of "partnership" had been realised.
 
We had put a proposition to Wally N'Dow, Secretary General for the Conference that the students could reduce the time lapse for negotiating documents. We reduced it from ten weeks to twenty four hours, and by the end of Habitat II the time was as low as two hours.
 
I handled media releases along with Verney. We established good relationships with Reuters and other agencies, which was invaluable.
 
The University of Auckland was one of only three universities in the world accredited to the Habitat II Conference. As we were also accredited through Arc-Peace we were able to gain access to security areas for a number of other New Zealanders who came to Istanbul. It was an enormous advantage to be everywhere.
 
When the New Zealand Government delegation eventually arrived the students were able to brief them and bring them up to speed.
 
The Ambassador's speech was not good, so we rewrote it, and in the Plenary Session she announced to the world the importance of Peaceful Cities. We had achieved more that anyone could ever have dreamed.

Making changes can be risky.

For many of the students it was the first time that they had seen innocent protesters being beaten up by police. They watched women lying on the ground being kicked. They met victims of torture.
 
We ate meals with heroes who were putting their lives on the line, and found our movements were being followed by the secret police.
 
The students watched some tough negotiations. One meeting where I was to speak was closed down by the police. I arrived to find tanks and barricades surrounding the venue. It took time to talk it all through, but the meeting went ahead. My Press Accreditation was invaluable.
 
You cannot lecture about those kinds of experiences to students who have not been there.

Those who do recognise others who do.

The President of Turkey flew us down to Cappadocia at the end of the Conference to celebrate by having lunch with him. It was the most lavish lunch I have ever had.
 
These were not students any more, except for the one who was so exhausted he slept through the festivities, waking up after it was all over.
 
In the rear vision mirror as we left we watched the soldiers coming out of their foxholes.

You learn through teaching others.

Back in New Zealand the students decided to share what they had learned. They put forward a proposal to build a house in Aotea Square for the EAROPH (East Asian Regional Organisation for Planning and Housing) Conference.
 
The idea developed into two houses, one concerned with "sweat-equity" and the other with "sustainability" and "zero-waste architecture". One relocated house now has a family happily living in it while the other has become the focus of on-going research into Maori housing.
 
The Arakainga House was too big a challenge to turn down. To build a house in 24 hours with a crowd of students who have never built anything before, in the middle of winter, with no funding and no resources, right next to the Town Hall with the public looking on to pick up on any mistake, seemed to have absolutely nothing going for it.
 
They all said afterwards that they would never let anyone else build a house for them. Doing it yourself is so much fun, and when you have finished it truly does belong to you.

Teaching produces followers.
Education produces leaders.

The phone went. It was one of the students. "What should I do? I have just had a phone call from New York asking me to take a job there." "What did you say?" "I did not know what to say." "Well ring right back and say yes."
 
With a little experience it became easier. The HOD objected to one student taking a job in Nairobi, but we suspect this was because the salary was more than the HOD was earning.

Reflection follows action.

Megan returned to New Zealand and has completed her PhD..
 
I would like to dedicate this lecture to her, and of course to all the other students who have taught me so  much.
 
Did we really do all this? It seems like a dream.
 
It has been a privilege to have had such wonderful teachers.

How do you evaluate real education?

We have changed our lives.
We have changed the world.
We have made friendships which are beyond value.
 
Yet, in the eyes of the University what we did was worth nothing.

 
Our story did not fit any of the University evaluation criteria.
No one explained the course outline, because no one could see beyond the next move. The course was a leap of faith, not a tired formula.
No one made any claims about where the students would be at the end of the course, although it was presumed we would all still be alive.
The assignment never was very clear. It had something to do with life.
The only class hand out was a $5000 cheque I scribbled out to secure the tickets for the students to get to Nairobi, as they held the lift on their way to the travel agent.
The reading list was sketchy to say the least. No one had been down this road before. The library was no help whatsoever in the fashionable "literature search" way, but it was a wonderful source of encouragement and relaxation.
The only way in which the grades could be justified was to question which staff member could have done what the students had done. The silence confirmed the grades.
Nothing we had done fitted any of the boxes.
 
The Head of Department complained because the work was not in the correct format for the Annual Report. An inquiry was begun and only forestalled when a more powerful karakia led the initiator to hospital with cancer rather than to the inquisition. Resentment, jealousy and anger would however finally lead to dismissal. No one could be expected to have the courage to speak out in defence of diversity when to do so would be to place their own teaching on the line.
 
However, as James K Baxter once said, "Failure is not necessarily a sign of lack of success."
 
Any fool can get high evaluations by following the rules. Celebrating thinking means questioning the rules.
 
Probably my main role in the story had been to protect my students from the criticism of those who could never understand. We live in a cruel, vicious and racist world. Only slowly do you reveal this to your students. The students finally had to deal with my being beaten up, in both a metaphorical and physical sense, by 'official' thugs, and left crippled. It was a clear lesson that nothing is more dangerous than success.
 
It is a lesson I wish I had never had to teach them. Sometimes we are all reluctant teachers.
 
"Wings of a tarnished victory shadow him
Who born of silence has burned back to silence."
(James K Baxter)
 
 
 

 
 
Abstract
 
Whakapapa is normally carried through to the next generation through storytelling. This paper reflects on the story of three undergraduate students from the Planning Department who rose to the challenge and raised enough money to get to Nairobi for the Second Preparatory Committee for the United Nations "Habitat II" Conference. At the last moment the New Zealand Government could not raise the money to go and thus the students became the de facto New Zealand delegation. A computer link was established back to the rest of the class in New Zealand, making it possible to provide guidance and support. The students introduced and gained support for the concept of "Peaceful Cities". To keep up the political momentum two of the students went to New York for the Third Preparatory Committee, and a team from the Department went to the Conference itself in Istanbul. The students re-wrote the New Zealand Ambassador's speech to the Plenary Assembly. The President of Turkey flew the students down to Cappadocia to celebrate their achievements. On their return to New Zealand the students shared their learning by building two houses in Aotea Square, one concerned with "sweat-equity" and the other with "sustainability" and "zero-waste architecture". One relocated house has become the focus of on-going research into Maori housing. After being head-hunted to work in New York one student has now completed her PhD. It is only through knowing our whakapapa that we know who we are. We sustain our whakapapa not by imitating others but rather by telling our stories and fulfilling their destiny.

Tony Watkins

First presented during “The Art of Excellent Teaching”
Fourth Annual Teaching and Learning Showcase
2.30pm Monday 22 November 2004
Federation Room, Old Government House