From 1989 to 2022: Student Activism Endures

Words by Maia Ingoe (she/her)

CW: Transphobia

Students are a fiery bunch. We enter university, an institution full of new people and new ideas, and we have a hunger to change what’s wrong with the world. Students have a rich history of being at the forefront of activism and movements of the day, from the 1970s and 80s to now. But 2022 looks a lot different to the 80s: university takes place via Zoom, students work one or more jobs to pay exorbitantly rising rents and struggle to afford the basics, and we pay thousands of dollars per class. We leave university burdened with debt.

The costs of being a student consume so much of our time, leaving little energy for activism. Barriers limiting students’ role as the critic and conscience of society began with the introduction of student fees in 1989. 

Issue 1 of Salient in 1989 focused on the newly-minted policy to charge fees for university education and create a loan scheme for students, which at first was intended to be provided by private banks. Andrew Little, then-president of the New Zealand Union of Students’ Associations (NZUSA), is quoted on page seven as saying, “Providing excellent education is no longer the aim. The aim becomes profit making.” Set in the background of a new swath of neoliberal policies, the introduction of student fees significantly changed the way universities operated and the experience of being a student.

Frank McLaughlin was the vice-president of NZUSA in 1989, a time that was fraught with change for the national student union. Prior to the introduction of a student fees policy by the Labour Government, student unions had an international focus and attempted to influence issues of global concern, such as the apartheid regime in South Africa. But because university life as it was known was set to significantly change, student unions turned to focus on reforms close to home. “We had to find the balance between international matters but also focusing on factors that affected students in New Zealand and their access to education, which in our view was core to what we were about,” said Frank.

Student fees were introduced in the context of increasing costs, increasing student numbers in tertiary education, and a wish to improve the availability of university. The main two concerns around student fees at the time, Frank said, were around equity and accessibility of education, and the nature and quality of services. NZUSA committed to a campaign against the ‘Learning for Life’ policy and advocated against the banks providing student loans. Thankfully, they were successful.

1989 issues of Salient reported on then Associate Minister of Education Phil Goff finding himself trapped in a swath of student protestors in the Hunter Carpark, having to escape to Parliament on foot to escape the anger over the student loan scheme.

NZUSA and other student unions led protest marches and events against the student loans policy and the privatisation of university education. On 20 July 1989, over 4000 students joined by teachers, polytechs, and secondary schools marched upon Parliament, led by Andrew “No Loans” Little (as reported by Salient). Salient reported protest signs saying “Stop the fees!” and belittling Phil Goff.

While Frank says engagement wasn’t like it was in the extremely active 70s, students still attended meetings and briefings in the hundreds, wanting to know about how the change in Government policy would affect them. With the pressure of loans today, he thinks students are more focused on achieving their academic objectives—“I didn’t discover the library until the third year,” he said of his first degree, laughing.

In 2008, an article published in Salient by editor Tristan Egarr explored the history of activism and VUWSA. Between the 60s and 80s, students were involved in anti-war protest, feminist outcry, and anger over the Springbok Tour. Engagement in international movements was strong, but as the article writes, full-time students during past decades were able to “devote themselves to politics and protest”. Why? In 2008, Salient put it down to the introduction of internal assessment—without the time between exams, students could no longer “go around occupying buildings and getting arrested”. The rising cost of renting and the increase in student fees since 1989 meant students were engaging more and more in part-time work.

If students were struggling to find time to engage in radical protests in 2008, it’s gotten even hard[MI5] er in 2022. The People’s Inquiry into Student Wellbeing, released in July, found that two thirds of students regularly cannot afford their basic needs. That includes food, clothing, bills, and healthcare. On average, those living in a shared flat spend 56% of their income on rent, and 68% of full-time students have at least one job to support them alongside study. Students are meant to be the critic and consciousness of society: but if we’re struggling to meet our basic needs, it gets harder and harder to call decision makers out.

Many question whether the great age of protest between the 70s and 80s has passed. Despite all the pressures of survival in this pandemic age, students are still organising and fighting for what matters to them. Last year, the student-organised Let Us Live rally gathered hundreds of people at Courtney Place to express outrage at sexual violence in our city, and call for changes such as funding for sexual harm prevention, redesign of urban spaces, and sexual violence prevention in alcohol environments. Organiser Jahla Lawrence said it was those clear aims which meant the protest had a tangible outcome. Sexual violence prevention was added to the Pōneke Promise and a Sexual Violence Prevention Action Plan was created, which Jahla is now working on with Wellington City Council. 

While it’s the protest event that gathers crowds and media attention, 80% of the work to make long-term change happen occurs behind the scenes, Jahla said. “The way I think about it, there are agitators and collaborators. 20% of the work is done by agitators—that’s the protesting—and 80% is collaboration: meetings, organisation, negotiation. And it’s not sexy, it’s not glamorous. But as organisers, it’s not just about us. It’s about creating a space for people to channel their emotions. Being angry at injustice is a kindness.”  

Students have gathered to express that anger at many issues in the last few years. More than 1000 people gathered at the trans rights rally outside Michael Fowler Centre last year to protest an event by trans-exclusionary group Speak Up for Women. Students joined the mass protest in 2020 to support the Black Lives Matter movement and draw attention to problems with policing in Aotearoa. In 2018, students marched upon Parliament to demand funding for tertiary students’ mental health services—resulting in the start of the Piki counselling programme.  

For Tamatha Paul, ex-VUWSA president and Wellington City Councillor, her first protest experience in Te Whanganui-a-Tara was formative for the way she does politics. She joined a crowd of people assembled by criminal justice organisation Just Speak. They gathered outside Judith Collins’ office at the Ministry of Justice to protest the placement of a trans woman in a men’s prison, which had resulted in serious assault. “It made me realise that politicians, decision makers, and people with power can and should be held to account by massive crowds of people.”

“Students in all societies across the world play a huge role in being the critic and conscience of society,”

Tamatha said. “That's why conservative, libertarian parties, like Act, and even the National Government, do all they can to make it impossible to be a student and to afford to live as a student. Because if you get too much time on your hands, you're gonna start criticising, and suggesting a change from the systems that we have in place, namely neoliberalism and capitalism.”

There’s no doubt that protest, politics, and activism are still an integral part of student culture. But when students struggle to meet the basics, engaging in the issues that matter to us becomes harder. “For our marginalised populations, existence is resistance,” said Jahla. “Simply coming to university and existing in this space is resistance.”

Illustration: Aaron O’Leary

Dedicated engagement in every political issue is inevitably draining for students. But showing up for the issues that matter to you, be that climate action, sexual violence prevention, healthy housing, criminal justice, or anything else, can be done everday. Activism isn’t always a protest; it’s in the power of existence and drawing attention to what’s important. Despite the challenges students face, the fire of discontent is far from extinguished, and student activism will endure.