Known globally as one of America’s most prominent and inspiring civil rights leaders, Reverend Jesse Jackson Sr twice ran for US president. He has died at 84.

Throughout his lifetime, he fought to promote social justice, economic equality and political empowerment for marginalised communities — and worked hard to encourage voter uptake from the disillusioned and excluded.

Little wonder he was outspoken against the South African apartheid regime and on Palestine. His six children described their father as a “servant leader”.

When I think of Jesse Jackson, I recall the iconic image of him standing on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in 1968, moments before his mentor Reverend Martin Luther King was assassinated.

I visited the site over a year ago. Now transformed into the National Civil Rights Museum, it documents the Jim Crow era both men were born into; where segregation and racism was formally normalised.

The interactive display was both moving and disturbing. It was also hopeful; a reminder of people-power movements led by those shaped by a Baptist church culture that grew the most compelling orators.

I have a personal memory of meeting Jesse Jackson one special afternoon many years ago in New York, while travelling with Deirdre Nehua and Syd Jackson.

Fearless treaty activist
Syd, one of our most fearless unionists and treaty activists, passed away in 2007. Both men were intelligent, witty and passionately Kaupapa-driven; powerful speakers who used their gifts and life experience to build movements at home and beyond.

They marched and organised sit-ins. They spoke out when it wasn’t popular, put their hands up when others hesitated. They got off the fence and made a difference.

We were introduced by a mutual friend as “Māori activists from New Zealand”. A puzzled Jesse gazed at Uncle Syd.

“Where did you get that slave name from, my brother?”

Deirdre and I glanced at each other. Uncle Syd responded with a deft explanation that referred to his Welsh whakapapa and included the words both “rugby” and “colonisation”.

Afterwards, the three of us bounced around New York beaming. We’d met an inspirational leader and he now knew “Māori brothers and sisters at the bottom of the South Pacific” were in the same waka; fighting the good fight.

In the many tributes to Jesse Jackson, I noted the odd commentator described him as a “populist”. It’s a term that conjures up those who frame themselves as saviours by fomenting division and exploiting fear.

Inclusive and reformist
Yet Jesse was inclusive and a reformist. Their point was about how he built coalitions that brought African Americans, Latinos, unions, rainbow communities, poor whites and working class together to fight for basic human rights inside the existing system. It’s said he frequently used his platforms to highlight Native American and Indigenous-led causes.

This week The Washington Post noted how colleges in the US are dismantling affirmative action stategies designed to overcome restrictions on participation due to race or income. Back here, calls have been made for a referendum on electorates set up to specifically provide a voice for signatories to Te Tiriti, in a system not designed by or for them.

Next week, a champion who railed against inequality will be laid to rest in his beloved Chicago. For us in Aotearoa, it’s an opportunity to reflect on his coalition-building record in this era of division and truly look around; to understand who and what the real threat to our sense of nationhood truly is.

A man of faith and hope, Jesse Jackson’s words are as relevant now as they ever were. Words matter. So does his call to action.

“It’s time for us to turn to each other, not on each other.”

Moe mai ra e te Rangatira.

Moana Maniapoto MNZM is an Aotearoa New Zealand singer, songwriter and documentary maker, and presenter of Te Ao With Moana. This article was first published on the Te Ao FB page and is republished with permission.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz

From being the headline to creating them, Moana Maniapoto has walked a rather rocky road of swinging between both sides of the media.

Known for her award-winning current affairs show Te Ao with Moana on Whakaata Māori, and the 1990s cover of Black Pearl, the lawyer-by-trade doesn’t keep her advocacy a secret.

Her first introduction to news was at the tail end of the 1980s when she was relaxed in the guest seat at Aotearoa Radio — Auckland’s first Māori radio station — but her kōrero hit a nerve.

“I said something the host considered radical,” she said.

“He quickly distanced the station from my remarks and that got the phones ringing.”

It became a race for listeners to punch numbers into the telephone, the first person to get through was New Zealand filmmaker, producer and writer Merata Mita, who ripped into the host.

“How dare you talk down to her like that,” Maniapoto recalled. The very next day she answered the call to host that show from then on.

No training, no worries
Aotearoa Radio was her first real job working four hours per day, spinning yarns five days a week — no training, no worries.

“Oh, they tried to get us to speak a bit flasher, but no one could be bothered. It was such a lot of fun, a great bunch of people working there. It was also nerve-wracking interviewing people like Erima Henare (NZ politician Peeni Henare’s father), but the one I still chuckle about the most was Winston Peters.”

She remembers challenging Peters over a comment he made about Māori in the media: “You’re going to have to apologise to your listeners, Moana. I never said that,” Peters pointed out.

They bickered in true journalist versus politician fashion — neither refused to budge, until Maniapoto revealed she had a word-for-word copy of his speech.

All Peters could do was watch Maniapoto attempt to hold in her laughter. A prompt ad break was only appropriate.

But the Winston-win wasn’t enough to stay in the gig.

“After two years, I was over it. It was tiring. Someone rang up live on air and threatened to kill me. It was a good excuse to resign.”

Although it wasn’t the end of the candlewick for Maniapoto, it took 30 years to string up an interview with Peters again.

Short-lived telly stints
In-between times she had short-lived telly stints including a year playing Dr Te Aniwa Ryan on Shortland Street, but it wasn’t for her. The singer-songwriter has also created documentaries with her partner Toby Mills, their daughter Manawanui Maniapoto-Mills a gunning young actress.

Maniapoto has featured on the cover of magazines, one in particular she remembers was Mana magazine in 1993.

“Sally Tagg photographed me in the shallow end of a Parnell Baths pool, wrapped in metres of blue curtain net, trying to act like it was completely normal,” she said.

Just 10 years ago she joined Mana Trust which runs the online Sunday mag E-Tangata, mentored by Gary Wilson (co-founder and co-editor) and print journalist Tapu Misa who taught her how to transfer her voice through computer keys.

“Whakaata Māori approached me in 2019, I was flattered, but music was my life and I felt wholly unequipped for journalism. Then again, I always love a challenge.”

Since jumping on board, Te Ao with Moana has completed six seasons and will “keep calm and carry on” for a seventh season come 17 February, 2025 — her son Kimiora Hikurangi Jackson the producer and “boss”.

It will be the last current affairs show to air on Whakaata Māori before moving the TV channel to web next year.

Advocating social justice
Her road of journalism and music is winding. Her music is the vehicle to advocating social justice which often landed her in the news rather than telling it.

“To me songwriting, documentaries, and current affairs are all about finding ways to convey a story or explore an issue or share insights. I think a strength I have are the relationships I’ve built through music — countless networks both here and overseas. Perfect for when we are wanting to deep dive into issues.”

Her inspiration for music grew from her dad, Nepia Tauri Maniapoto and his brothers. Maniapoto said it was “their thing” to entertain guests from the moment they walked into the dining room at Waitetoko Marae until kai was finished.

“It was Prince Tui Teka and the Platters. Great vocal harmonies. My father always had a uke, gat, and sax in the house,” she said.

Born in Invercargill and raised in Rotorua by her māmā Bernadette and pāpā Nepia, she was surrounded by her five siblings who some had a keen interest in kapa haka, although, the kapa-life was “too tough” for Maniapoto. Instead, nieces Puna Whakaata, Mourei, and Tiaria inheriting the “kapa” gene. Maniapoto said they’re exceptional and highly-competitive performers.

Blending her Ngāti Pikiao, Ngāti Tūwharetoa, and Tūhourangi whakapapa into song was no struggle.

The 1990s was filled with soul, R’n’B, and reggae, she said, singing in te reo was met with indifference if not hostility.

‘Labelled a radical’
“If you mixed in lyrics that were political in nature, you were labelled a ‘radical.’ I wasn’t the only one, but probably the ‘radical’ with the highest profile at the time.”

After her “rare” single Kua Makona in 1987, Moana & the Moahunters formed in the early 1990s, followed by Moana and the Tribe which is still going strong. Her sister Trina has a lovely singing voice and has been in Moana & The Tribe since it was formed, she said.

And just like her sixth television season, Maniapoto has just churned out her sixth album, Ono.

“I’m incredibly proud of it. So grateful to Paddy Free and Scotty Morrison for their skills. Looks pretty too on vinyl and CD, as well as digital. A cool Xmas present. Just saying.”

The microphone doesn’t seem to be losing power anytime soon. All albums adequately named one-to-six in te reo Māori, one can only punt on the next album name.

“It’s kinda weird now morphing back into the interviewee to promote my album release. I’m used to asking all the questions.”

This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz