Vicki Macdonald; & Spiral 5

Reprinted from Spiral 5 where Vicki was a collective member, with Anna Keir, Daphne Brasell and Marian Evans. There’s an update from Vicki at the end.

1982

How I feel about myself now, and my different lifestyles

Last year I was so stereotyped into a bush person land girl even when a mother — an outdoor person alienated from the other world of literary comments, attitudes. We never even had a newspaper in the house.

I’d been painting since I was seven. When I was sixteen Dad died. I did a painting for Mum. It got ripped up. Old Sam asked me to paint. I painted a little Maori boy playing in the dirt. That was one and a half years before I was married. The last.

John had the same attitude as Mum’s. Painting is a waste of time and money. It should be crushed, never make money from it.

So I stayed with horses and never thought about it. It was easy for a while because Dad wasn’t there. And my love for Art just ceased to be. I suppose that is why I was so emotionally unbalanced. I was hard to get on with. Frustration, because that part of me couldn’t get out. It was the frustration of not being able to piant. In a thunderstorm I would strip off and ride the horse straight into the waves for about two hours, get out pent upu feelings and come home. I used to forget. To me it was a split second in time and yet it would be two or three hours.

When I was fencing everyone I knew in that world used to say fencing is a man’s world. I was as good as everybody else. So to them that was fine.

Now I’ve changed. I’ve crossed the boundary. It’s scary.

I sit there thinking, you know people’s ideas change too. Like when before they’d say ‘What d’you do?’.

‘I’m a fencer, a scrub cutter.’ They’d say ‘O yeah’, and realise that I was.

Because I mixed with those people I was treated as an equal, accepted. Now they say ‘What d’you do?’ and I say ‘I’m an artist’ and I get an abrubt barrier.

At our drinking table 3 or 4 guys are pleased I’m an artist, not the usual — I’ve changed my whole pattern of people. Computer operator, that sort of thing, peoplke who’ve dabbled in art are interested. Others say ‘You are not in our league’. If I hadn’t done art I would have thought it’s a different lifestyle, too, not been interested. But I was always interested in art. Art was always there. When I married John it was a case of putting it away. I managed that. I lived so long in that other world. Now I’ve crossed over. I just don’t fit in. Art people can’t handle my being a fencer. Neat, Wow, but not interested because they don’t understand.

I had the choice when I was a kid (some of my relatives are rich, I used ot stay with them, housekeeper, art works) of living that way of life or being with Dad. I chose Dad because I believed that was real people. They said ‘You don’t know any better’. I said ‘I’ve had the choice of lives: being phoney and uptight like you or being with the down and outers’. I think the down and outers when coming up (not going down) have more to offer. Really appreciate friendship.

If ever I go back to live in Auckland I will probably have to go back to live with rich relatgives. Like Thorndon elite, velvet walls, spa pool, colour TV room. Uncle said to me ‘you’re still a rebel aren’t you, you haven’t accepted this family’.

Now I’m on the boundary. I’m hopping backwards and forwards. It’s lonely. I haven’t found anyone who’s there. Others are in their own limbo but not sharing the same thing with me.

It’s a different life and worlds.

I gave a drawing to Brian. I said that was him. He said ‘no that’s not me. I’m not into contempirary art’. I said that wasn’t the point, it was my feelings towards him. He said our lifestyles were completely different whereas in February they were the same. Yet that part of me is still the same, still longs to be on the fence line, cutting scrub, riding horses, mustering sheep.

They say I’ve changed. If I want to go back it’s not a case of still having my art with me because that sort of life style would never accept me. They would say I was strange.

That’s what I am, strange.

I’ve seen it before. When I was shepherding people up the road were known as hippie come weirdo come hermit. It’s accepting loneliness to live either way. To the art world I’m different and weird. I don’t fit into their life style either. It’s spooky. Makes you wonder if it’s all worth it. I’ve seen so much of life. I should have fitted into one slot or another. I fit into many circles, wandering. I feel like a piece of rubbish in space floating from galaxy to galaxy.

I know so much, but where can I put it. Been there, done that but what use is it to me. A guy came uup to me the other day. he was getting his photo taken and asked me to hold his baby. It came naturally to hold the baby, hold it on my hip. Same as picking up a hammer, or picking up a paint brush, doing an etching, going to a horse that’s been badly treated and knowing how to handle it. What do I do with all those things?

I feel alienated because I dress how I feel comfortable, in bush shirt, swany and steel capped boots. Everyone at the Arts Centre looks odd but can be put into an artistic category. You can pick them. Like coming over on the ferry I picked out two guys as being shepherds, they were really neat guys to talk to until they found out I did art. Instant barrier. You on that side, us on this. Yet I’ve spent my whole life with those people. I feel really lost. It’s the same at the Arts Centre. To the whole lot of them I’m different.

Like my swearing. Swearing to me is a way of life. ninety percent of teh time I do not notice what I’m saying. Like eevryone I’ve ever worked with Father swore, school we swore, though Mum wouldn’t tolerate it in the hosue. Every job I’ve had, you didn’t say ‘Come here you dumb dog’, it was ‘come here you fucking dumb bastard’. Now I swear, and people choke. I can’t handle it. It’s just me.

Brian was brought up in a middle class family where women don’t swear, smoke in the street or walk on the outsie of the pavement. yet I can go into the pub and act the goat, not feminine and that’s all right.

I just can’t understand why one side or the other can’t understand where I’m at. That letter I got from Don in prison was really nice. he was one of the Mongrel Mob. He said before going in ‘I think the world of you but our life styles are different. I wouldn’t ask you to come down to my level’. But ever since I’ve been a kid I’ve been on that level. When did I change. I get on with everybody and I get pissed off with it. I don’t want to be me.

The only one I recognise is a bit like me is Keri Hulme. But though I’d love to live like that, in the bush, country way of life, doing my own work, I couldn’t handle the isolation. I’m not at that point where I feel strong about where I am. I’ve never had that sort of security. I lived with John so long, a bad security. Now I’m lost. It was like being locked in a cage. Now I’ve been let out I’ve not got a safe cage to go back into when I can’t take the knocks. I’ve friends but it’s not the same. Scared I’ll end up sort of a lost person. That’s why it hit me so hard when Brian said our life styles are different. Because he represented security. To me the Marae would come first. But I can’t go back there now. That whole part of my life has crumbled. It finished when my girl friend’s grandmother dies. She was the elder. The old lady was the one who held us together. That’s another thing people don’t accept in me. My Maoriness. because I’m Pakeha but the way I was brought up was teh Maori way. The Maori I know, know me, but to those I don’t know I’m the honkey white trash, what are you doing among us. Pakehas say what are you talking about you are white not Maori. I’m asked where am I going to stand in a clash between Maori and whites. I’m stuck fair in the middle and I don’t like it.

The Spiral Collective and me

Being asked to join the Spiral collective was a mixture of many feelings for me, from pleasure and happiness at the thoughtof being on the team, to fear and worry that I wouldn’t be able to help enough or pull my weight where matters tha I didn’t understand left me floundering.

But we have such a great team and all got on well so putting the thing together was a fantastic experience for me as never in my life have I ever been involved in anything like it. I ahve learnt so much from just being involved that I hope it will continue so I will improve my own views of of life and of the world we women live in. And be able to give more of myself to the magazine so in time I become engrossed in all aspects of it instead of being only able to understand the graphics and writing.

2016

FROM HORROR TO ACHIEVEMENT!!

From near death, to being saved and given hope and help, I was able to go on and achieve many more things in my life!!

After coming through Womens’ Refuge, with their help, I sorted my art and achieved a 95% pass in School Certificate. Art — which has given so much pleasure to me and others: I’ve made many good paintings and even published a book on bits of my life with crazy animal stories etc.

I had lost a lot — my 4 young sons, 4 lives I could have no part of except maybe a quick phone call on a birthday. No visits for years. But I was alive and FREE, not chained and beaten.

My way of dealing with it was work, work, work — not sitting on my bum and dwelling on it. I was able to make a life for myself that I thought my sons could be proud of me for achieving.

I went on to become a Zoo Keeper at the Wellington Zoo, then got offered the job of Hydatid Officer and Dog & Animal Control Officer — a combined job. This I excelled in, as I brought to the job my skills from my past life, e.g. Shepherd, Stock, Dog and Horse Trainer. I then became one of the very few women to go through with both Hydatids and Dog Control Officer status.

I was given the opportunity to go to Tokoroa where the dogs were out of control because they hadn’t had an officer there for 3 years and I brought Tokoroa’s dog problem under control, after the worst of the lay-offs at the paper mill.

After nearly 12 months I was able to take stock of how good that turned out: with no prosecutions, ‘and they all did it my way’, that’s not only the Pig Hunters but also the 4 major gangs in the area. Yes I had death threats etc, but remembering my past life made me strong. It just made me more determined to sort out all of the Dog and Animal problems within the (Council) area, bringing in Freeze Branding for pig dogs to help fight the pig dog stealing ring and broke up those rings, breaking up dog fighting, and petitioning Parliament to stop Pit Bulls from ever entering the country. It was NOT PASSED but it was brought into law that all dogs must be Micro Chipped as this helps to find or locate the owners of lost or stolen dogs. Also other problems that go with ‘out of control dogs’ e.g. stock worrying, attacks on people etc.

After achieving that I was about to take over South Waikato District, when I was diagnosed with Brucellosis and given 3 months to live. I was pissed off, as I had just been picked to become the first woman ever to be Field Advisory Officer for MAF for NZ, of whom, in those days, there were only 7 in New Zealand. But I couldn’t do it because of the diagnosis and I was dying. This was the start of a long road on which there was support from many.

Looking back to that first terrible trip from the bush to Takaka then Nelson, flown to Wellington with police protection to start a new life in which I have achieved so much, 4 people have stood out in my turnaround. They gave me the will, the hope and the belief in myself so that I could do and excel in any of these things. and I want to thank these people with all my love and heart. Each one of you have helped me look to the future, not at what I have lost!! Thank you all for my life.

Shirley & Neil Goodman of Nelson, who were there for me at the beginning, with open arms. They gave me safeness, warmth and food, yet I was still flat back, caged, e.g. not able to go for a walk or go near a window in case I was shot!! And I never ran in a straight line, always ran amongst trees as a safety net from being shot! Terror & fear are a great teacher. These few little tricks saved my life but so did Womens’ Refuge — not only by giving me safety but by helping me come to terms with a life so different from my old one….the release…the freedom!!

Shirley and Neil flew me to Wellington Refuge where I was given support in finding a place to live, a job and a new life style, teaching me there was more to life than the ‘bash’ and having kids one after the other, support in my art & writing and enabling me to once again try School Certificate — and achieving it!! Getting jobs that I had always thought an ‘unobtainable dream’ — e.g. Zoo Keeper, Print Assistant (Wellington Arts Centre), being able to do writing courses and tuition writing and the overall feeling that I could go for any goal I wanted to obtain e.g. Hydatids Officer & Animal Control Officer. I was offered the job of a Hydatids Control Officer in the Amazon Jungle to the inland tribes — wanted to but my boys were getting big enough to need me at last.

All of this was possible because of the refuge workers, telling & showing me what it takes and believing that I could and did have what it takes to try and get any of these things — even thought I was a physical and mental wreck but with the support over the years by Marian Evans (my refuge worker) I was able to achieve.

Then through a friend, I met an amazing man — Ray, who didn’t go on about how sick I was but ‘what would it take to make me want to live?’ ‘10 acres on the West Coast of the South Island’, I said, as a joke. ‘It has to be on the beach’ was the reply, though neither of us had any money!! But by luck, meeting good people and hard work, also finding a Doctor who could treat Brucellosis two years later there I was, sitting in my Paradise just 20 or so kms north of Westport, Buller, South Island.

Nine years of hard work for both of us, we had it just about right. From no stock holding fences, no water supply etc. all and more had been achieved including house rebuild. Then Solid Energy came along with a multi-million dollar plan, pushed us off the land — with nothing — leaving us both broken, with nothing after 9 years hard work!!

We both never got over losing that. From there we have done 3 times around NZ and lived in many places, too many to list. We did buy 18 acres an hour west of Invercargill but after 2 years it failed to give us the pleasure and peace of mind we hoped. From Invercargill to North Auckland and back to the South Island, then over to Blenheim where we now live in a wonderful old cottage which was built in about 1890 and it’s still very strong and sound — we are improving it.

From what I was, now I can look back at what I was to what I have become. TO ALL WHO HELPED ME ON THAT HARD ROAD….THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH.