Uploaded August 2017 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago
For the Maori settlers of central Otautahi, living by the Avon River would have been like “living next door to Pak ‘n Save,” according to Joseph Hullen.
The river and surrounding wetlands, mahinga kai to the Maori, offered up many delicacies, including eel, flounder, whitebait in season, and herring or mullet.
But Hullen says he wouldn’t eat from the river now and believes it has, over time, “been turned into what I consider an iconic but uniform width and depth drain.”
Hullen is a Ngai Tahu whakapapa researcher and member of the Matapopore Charitable Trust.
The Trust, the Crown and the City Council are partners in the $116M Ōtākaro/Avon River Precinct Anchor Project.
Part of the project involves restoring and beautifying the river.
“We can’t afford not to do some of this work now otherwise the species that I take for granted, the next generation may never see,” says Hullen.
He takes us to a newly-constructed jetty by the Margaret Mahy Playground, where eels now gather in expectation of a feed.
“When i was growing up my taua, my grandmother, she lived just across the road here on the corner of Manchester Street and Cambridge Terrace ... I didn’t see as many eels then as I do today.”
Aquatic Ecologist, Mark Taylor, worriers though about the hard edges being introduced at the river’s edge, including the concrete terraced steps on Oxford Terrace, and their impact on fish - 7 species live in the Avon River.
“The thing about the hard banks is that they lack the natural refuges for fish,” he says.
The environmental impacts of the central city rebuild are alsoa concern for many who care for the water quality.
“We still have direct stormwater inputs going into the river and they're going to limit the potential for the river,” says Taylor.
Hullen adds, “the de rigeur form of cladding lately seems to be copper and zinc. Both react with water ... heavy metals find their way into the river.”
Hullen is proud of Ngai Tahu’s newly-installed filtering rain garden at it’s new development on the former King Edward Barracks’ site.
And what of the river environs? Landscape Architect, Di Lucas, would like to see wetlands re-introduced in the central city and more native plantings.
Hullen agrees, ”if you imagine kahikatea forest growing alongside the river, a massive planting of native beech, bellbirds, tui, wood pigeons nesting in the trees. It adds that point of interest so that when tourists and even Christchurch locals come down to the river to see some stuff that's quintessentially New Zealand.”
For the full story visit chchdilemmas.co.nz
For the Maori settlers of central Otautahi, living by the Avon River would have been like “living next door to Pak ‘n Save,” according to Joseph Hullen.
The river and surrounding wetlands, mahinga kai to the Maori, offered up many delicacies, including eel, flounder, whitebait in season, and herring or mullet.
But Hullen says he wouldn’t eat from the river now and believes it has, over time, “been turned into what I consider an iconic but uniform width and depth drain.”
Hullen is a Ngai Tahu whakapapa researcher and member of the Matapopore Charitable Trust.
The Trust, the Crown and the City Council are partners in the $116M Ōtākaro/Avon River Precinct Anchor Project.
Part of the project involves restoring and beautifying the river.
“We can’t afford not to do some of this work now otherwise the species that I take for granted, the next generation may never see,” says Hullen.
He takes us to a newly-constructed jetty by the Margaret Mahy Playground, where eels now gather in expectation of a feed.
“When i was growing up my taua, my grandmother, she lived just across the road here on the corner of Manchester Street and Cambridge Terrace ... I didn’t see as many eels then as I do today.”
Aquatic Ecologist, Mark Taylor, worriers though about the hard edges being introduced at the river’s edge, including the concrete terraced steps on Oxford Terrace, and their impact on fish - 7 species live in the Avon River.
“The thing about the hard banks is that they lack the natural refuges for fish,” he says.
The environmental impacts of the central city rebuild are alsoa concern for many who care for the water quality.
“We still have direct stormwater inputs going into the river and they're going to limit the potential for the river,” says Taylor.
Hullen adds, “the de rigeur form of cladding lately seems to be copper and zinc. Both react with water ... heavy metals find their way into the river.”
Hullen is proud of Ngai Tahu’s newly-installed filtering rain garden at it’s new development on the former King Edward Barracks’ site.
And what of the river environs? Landscape Architect, Di Lucas, would like to see wetlands re-introduced in the central city and more native plantings.
Hullen agrees, ”if you imagine kahikatea forest growing alongside the river, a massive planting of native beech, bellbirds, tui, wood pigeons nesting in the trees. It adds that point of interest so that when tourists and even Christchurch locals come down to the river to see some stuff that's quintessentially New Zealand.”
For the full story visit chchdilemmas.co.nz



![Frank Film asks what it’s like to be trans in Aotearoa New Zealand
“As soon as the testosterone started hitting, and as soon as I started to feel that I looked more male, things just started to make sense,” says Nick Winchester, who came out as as a trans man at 27. “I stopped feeling like I was fighting with my body every day, and I stopped feeling like everything was so hard.”
Winchester, a business consultant, says his energy and enthusiasm for life has redoubled since transitioning. And, seeing him bound through the golden Port Hills tussocks with his dog, Rogue, his joie de vivre is clear.
Jennifer Shields, the healthcare lead at QTopia, says that Winchester’s post-transition contentment is a common feeling – known as gender euphoria. “[It’s] that moment where who you are is really in sync with how you’re feeling and looking, and how people see you and describe you. Everything just clicks.”
Gender euphoria doesn’t have to come from medical transition, says Shields – often it comes simply from feeling supported by friends, family and community. Small acts of consideration, like using someone’s preferred pronouns, can have a profound impact.
Family support has contributed to Winchester’s self-confidence. “[Mum has] very much become a supporter. When I was running Kindred, an organisation for mentoring trans youth, she would come and give talks to the kids.”
It took both Winchester and Shields a long time to understand and accept that they were trans. Shields came out as a trans woman in her second year at university. “There are so many moments, looking back, where I could have identified it earlier, if I’d had the understanding.”
“I tried really hard to make the best of what I had,” Winchester says, of his life before he transitioned. “But I couldn’t get happy with my body. It never felt like it was me.” Now, Shields and Winchester are both openly trans. Although living authentically has made them both happier and more confident, they say that transitioning doesn’t come without risks.
It’s now a few weeks after anti-trans activist Posie Parker’s visit to New Zealand was met with nationwide protests. Since Parker’s arrival, there has been a documented surge of online hate towards the trans community.
Winchester has observed a large amount of online abuse towards people who are openly trans, including death threats. “That feels, definitely, like it’s increasing.” He says some of the abuse is horrific, with phrases like “extermination season” being used.
Shields agrees that things are “full-on” at the moment. “But what we’re seeing is a really vocal minority, particularly in online spaces.”
According to the Disinformation Project, there’s a significant overlap between anti-vaccine and anti-trans online groups. Transphobic rhetoric often originates in the United States, and is parroted in New Zealand online spaces. One common accusation is that trans women transition purely to gain access to womens’ bathrooms and commit sexual assault.
“We know from organisations like Women’s Refuge and Rape Crisis that this just doesn’t happen,” says Shields. “Trans people are much more likely to be the victims of violence than the perpetrators. A lot of what they’re saying about trans people now is exactly the same as what was once said about gay people.”
Winchester and Shields lead busy, fulfilled lives. Winchester bikes, walks or runs through the hills whenever he gets the chance. Shields practises vintage photography in her spare time: two favourite subjects are her cats and her partner’s flower garden.
Even so, like many trans people in Aotearoa, both admit to moments of fear and vulnerability.
“It’s a community that’s pretty over-represented, sadly, in stats around self-harm, suicide, substance abuse, and homelessness,” says Shields. “But we know that that isn’t inherent to the community. It comes as a result of having to exist in a world that doesn’t see you for who you are.”
“I’m tired and I’m scared,” says Winchester. “And if I’ve been doing this for 12 years and I’m tired and scared, I can only imagine how it feels for someone who’s just starting out.”
“We genuinely just want to live our lives.”
Credits:
Producer/Director: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Oliver Dawe
Researcher/Writer: Nicole Phillipson
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Post-Production Coordinator: Andy Johnson
Sound Design and Mix: Chris Sinclair Frank Film asks what it’s like to be trans in Aotearoa New Zealand](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Zcz7cVxXEbI/mqdefault.jpg)






