![]() As a child the ability to “manipulate” her dad into buying her a book and McDonalds during their much lamented travels is entertaining. This is in contrast to her father who teeters the line of “fun uncle”. Mana wāhine vibes reverberate throughout the text and when a group of women gather to bury a uterus ceremoniously, I didn’t feel the slightest bit surprised. It’s not surprising that Emma dreams about these women before having them etched into her own skin. Snippets of Pākehā and Māori grandmothers swapping recipes, gossiping and plotting the course of their children’s lives rings so true. In te ao Māori it’s customary to lift women up and Emma’s whānau Māori will undoubtedly appreciate the book being written in a way that acknowledges her mother, aunties and grandmothers so wholly. ![]() The book reads as a collection of reflective essays but each one contributes to a very special love letter from a daughter to her mother. One of the most striking things about this book is that Emma’s wildly successful trajectory functions to magnify Colleen’s qualities. A Pākehā lesbian with her rescue remedy, cartoon character driving skills, and a love for her daughter that is as tangible and enduring as Papatūānuku herself. ![]() As the focus of an early chapter, Emma’s mother anchors her story and she’s a delight to read about. It feels logical to start with a mihi to Colleen. Final year med student Chloe Fergusson-Tibble finds both familiar struggles and a pathway forward in Emma Espiner’s new memoir about being a wahine Māori in medicine. ![]()
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