I rocked up to Middleton Grange in 2014, terrified of the possibility that I might have to go up a flight of stairs to get to my classes. It didn’t take too long for me to shake a lot of that off and find my cosy little corner of the school: the Performing Arts department.
While classes kept me busy enough, and my teachers did well to mould my mind, it was actually the opportunities outside of the classroom that really shaped who I’ve become and where I am destined to go. I was highly trusted, and with that trust, I was able to pull off creative endeavours that, to this day, are still some of my proudest achievements. I was given so many opportunities to spread my wings, try new ideas, and put together a portfolio of work that would serve me well in the coming years.
For me, Middleton Grange was my tūrangawaewae—one that was hard to let go of at the end. In the few years following graduation, I began to unpack the fact that my work ethic and dedication to projects were actually a double-edged sword. While the culture surrounding me strongly supported my goals of excellence and service, I also found my personal and spiritual identity was getting all tied up in how well I could perform and impress people, as opposed to believing that I’m loved regardless—and that sometimes, it’s okay to just rest.
It turns out that one of the things I forgot to do while at school was eat. I was too busy getting my projects done, and on the surface, I looked on top of the world, so nobody had a reason to question how I was doing on the inside. I became quite unwell after high school, with regular visits to Princess Margaret Hospital for two years, in hopes of getting to a healthy weight. It was a difficult time, but one that I look back on with gratitude—for my family and friends who stayed close and kept me going.
I did a year at a creative Polytech course that didn’t end up being that interesting. I did a year freelancing creative work, using the only thing I had—my phone—which was enough to get by. In October 2018, I got a call from Chris Murray, asking if I’d be interested in working alongside him at Middleton Grange, supporting the Performing Arts. The trajectory of my life changed at that moment, and everything in me wanted nothing more than to return home and keep making cool stuff for my community. But beyond that, I saw returning to Middleton in a non-teaching position as a great opportunity to be there for the students in a unique capacity—one that understands the plight of the high achiever and can encourage them to rest and believe they are loved first, not after their show-stopping moment.
My role in the school has been to maintain the health and wellbeing of The Grange Theatre and surrounding performance spaces. I run technical for the events and work with many high-achieving and talented tamariki who are spreading their wings, as I did, and pulling off creative endeavours that blow mine out of the water. I’m lucky to know them and blessed to be able to add my two cents to their work every once in a while.
Beyond the theatre, I now work part time growing my creative business, alongside my wife. We shoot weddings, create content for organisations, and we’ve recently picked up a new gig as Christchurch Managers for the 48Hours Film Festival. We’re a one stop shop for all things creative, and no week is ever the same anymore.
Christian schools have a tough mission. We have to balance the invitation of the Church to learn about Jesus and discover his love for us, alongside the law of the country that kids must attend school and follow rules. Many meld those two things together, and the result is that many feel Jesus is caught up in rules, restrictions, no go zones, high levels of achievement, excellence credits, and uniform standards. I’m proud to have spent many years now connecting with kids, hoping as I talk to them, they’ll remember they already belong—and that no amount of academic or co-curricular success will ever change that.
I owe a lot to The Grange Theatre. It’s where I first fell in love, and also where I first grieved the loss of love. It’s where I pulled off what felt impossible, and where sometimes I would go just to sit and feel safe. I had my first date with my wife there, sitting above the audience, watching ‘Oliver’. I proposed to her on the stage, surrounded by candlelight. For me, The Grange is a sacred space, one that transforms the lives of so many of our tamariki. It’s an honour to be a part of the story.