Dictionary (you’ll need it):
Student Associations:
- AUSA - Auckland University Students’ Association
- ATSA - Aotearoa Tertiary Students’ Association
- AUTSA - Auckland University of Technology Students’ Association
- LUSA - Lincoln University Students’ Association
- OUSA - Otago University Students’ Association
- UCSA - University of Canterbury Students’ Association
- WSU - Waikato Students’ Union
- NZISA - New Zealand International Students’ Association
- NZUSA - New Zealand Union of Student Associations
- NDSA - National Disabled Students’ Association
- TMĀ - Te Mana Ākonga (National Māori Student Association)
- Te Tira Ahu Pae - Massey’s Student Association
Terms:
- Honorarium - an honorarium is a token payment, made at less than market rate. Common for services on a volunteer basis, but where some payment is appropriate. These payments are honoraria.
- Incorporated Society Officer - a person occupying a position in the society that allows them to exercise significant influence over the management or administration of the society
- VSM - Voluntary Student Membership Bill
Let’s face it: students are consistently sidelined in political decision-making. Juggling soaring living costs, exploitative landlords, and clinging to the hope that this damn degree will actually be worth it in the end, we’ve got little time or energy left to rally for change – not when most of us are just trying to keep our heads above water. Enter student unionism, a united political body of students there to advocate for our interests and keep us from once again being shafted.
Unionism might call to mind the crazy-eyed Freddie from Peaky Blinders, organising rallies of workers who rattle their fists against The Man and upset the status quo. But in the more accurate sense of the word, unionism means collectively having each others’ backs. That’s the idea, anyway. The national student union is the phoenix that swoops in with the tools to save the day. It's the insurance policy that means that, say, if the Government wanted to introduce a no-cause eviction policy meaning students (who are largely renters) can be kicked out of flats with 90-days’ notice, Big Union is there to argue how objectively shit of a policy it is – written in nice politics-speak and with the authority to back it up. Established in 1929, the New Zealand Union of Students’ Associations (NZUSA) is the Paul Mescal to the scattered gladiators of student associations, there to unite our voices into one.
NZUSA came across my radar about a month ago at one of the OUSA Exec’s weekly meetings where President Liam White mentioned that NZUSA was ending, with the Aotearoa Tertiary Student Association (ATSA) taking its place. What was meant to be a short 500 or so word news piece blew out into a 5000 word feature after I cracked open my laptop, searched #NZUSA on the Critic website, and got digging. I imagined tales of a student-led, politically savvy organisation with the power to lobby for students’ interests: mould-free housing, caps on fee increases, and a future free from crushing student debt.
Instead, the results prompted a whispered “holy fuck”. News stretching back as far as I could scroll told stories of NZUSA grappling with successive restructuring, indecisive student associations leaving and rejoining (and then leaving and rejoining again), OUSA pouring in nearly $23k to save it from collapse, NZUSA begging alumni for spare change, and a $2.4 million sexual violence campaign fumble (part of the fallout from an NZUSA staff member allegedly sending a dick pic to fellow staff). And that’s just scratching the surface.
Call me Alice, because I was down the rabbit hole, armed with the question: is student unionism self-immolating, or will a new phoenix rise from the ashes of its predecessor? Strap in and grab some popcorn for a deep dive more janky than your Hyde Street Party K-hole. I hope you’re good with acronyms.
The Good Old Days
National student unionism is what every student who’s endured the StudyLink waiting times should want, and for a long time, NZUSA lived up to its mandate. Since its birth, NZUSA has campaigned nationally for the issues their paying members (student associations like OUSA) brought to their attention. Membership fees for associations varied and operated on a sliding scale roughly aligned with each association's size, comparable to the flatmate with an ensuite bedroom paying more rent. For OUSA (certified big boy), this was a modest $45k. In their prime, NZUSA delivered a real impact. They campaigned for inclusive LGBT+ policy, opposed nuclear warfare, challenged the “racist” COVID-19 travel ban on behalf of international students, and advocated for the implementation of fees-free study.
A recent win was the 2013 “fixing” of StudyLink. The social service critical to tertiary studies had failed to pick up 800,000 calls, causing considerable delays in students’ payments. “The union listened to students and made improving StudyLink a top priority,” reads a NZUSA press release from the time. Working with the Government, NZUSA slashed those missed calls down to 8,000 by 2015, and almost everyone got their entitlements on time. A shame for Six60’s streaming stats when those hold times were reduced, but a win for students. And with recent news of StudyLink’s buckling system – under pressure from 5,742 more student allowance applications and 16,273 more Student Loan applications compared to last year – it seems students left in financial limbo (some going four weeks without payments earlier this year) could use an advocate like that now more than ever. But this time, there was no NZUSA swooping in to save the day.
The student presidents at the helm of NZUSA were outspoken, Parliament-ready politicians in the making. For example, University of Otago Vice-Chancellor Grant Robertson served his time as NZUSA co-president back in the day. Many of the things students rely on today, such as interest-free student loans while studying, were made possible, in part, by NZUSA’s consistent foothold in national politics. They had some serious weight to throw around. The "daddy" of all student associations, NZUSA consistently united student groups across the motu under a shared cause. University campuses have their differences – Auckland students will always be alarmed at the idea of a funnel on entry, Canterbury students shocked that nobody cares what high school you went to, and Victoria students unaware that it’s not normal to pay $11 for a matcha latte. But no matter what campus a student association came from, you were united in your passion for students’ rights, and so you were passionate about NZUSA.
Yet last year, then-OUSA President Keegan Wells told Critic Te Ārohi that all was not well behind the scenes of NZUSA. While not formally disbanded, it lay dormant, existing only in name: “NZUSA is around – [but] it’s not very alive or very well.” What went wrong?
The Nail in the Coffin: Voluntary Student Membership
To begin, current OUSA Prez Liam directed me to the Voluntary Student Membership (VSM) Bill – what was, in his opinion, the “final nail in the coffin” for NZUSA. When VSM was voted into law in 2011, it very nearly crippled every student association in Aotearoa. VSM removed requirements for students to join their student associations and pay fees. Otago students were therefore no longer automatically part of OUSA, and so the association would be forced to rely on donations to function instead. Without financial backing, associations risked collapse. On our home turf, it would mean no minion-invaded Hyde Street Party, no Student Support to run to when flatting arguments break out, and no Clubs and Societies (that’s $4 lunch and sauna, to those who don’t celebrate).
But OUSA was lucky. Harlene Hayne, the Vice-Chancellor at the time (the seat Grant Robertson now occupies), recognised that keeping OUSA functioning would be pretty sweet. A Service Level Agreement (SLA) was cooked up between the University and OUSA, with the University to provide extra funding post-VSM. Ever notice that $1.1k student services fee you’re charged when you sign up for your courses? OUSA goes to the Uni every year to ask for a chunk of that fee, and the Uni signs off on how many zeros will go on the cheque. Acting as a middleman, the Uni basically decides if OUSA will have a good year or not. For associations subject to SLAs, universities hold the vitality of student unionism in their hands. Not so good for so-called independent student unions, but it’s the best solution post-VSM that we have.
Contrary to what you might think, OUSA doesn’t only dish out cash on flashy events like Toga Party. A big part of their function happens behind the scenes in the interest of student advocacy – and this includes membership with associations such as NZUSA. Needless to say, the effects of VSM were felt up the chain all the way to NZUSA who, like all student associations, heavily depended on the funding from its members – the members who were now put in precarious positions. Naturally, NZUSA vehemently protested the Bill. While the idea of voluntary student membership had been circulating since the 1990s, NZUSA had fought it until 2009, when ACT MP Heather Roy introduced the Bill into Parliament. In 2011, as VSM gained serious traction again, ACT and the National government pushed the Bill into law. A year later, then-OUSA President Logan Edgar locked himself in a cage for two days in the middle of winter on Union Lawn to show support for NZUSA’s stance against VSM. But it seemed student union funding was still left out in the cold, even after Edgar was back inside.
The Downfall of NZUSA: Petty Posts, Murky Facts and Finger-Pointing
Conducting an autopsy on NZUSA was a fucking nightmare – and I was the coroner. Bounced around different association representatives in an endless game of he-said-she-said, an NCIS-worthy account of NZUSA’s final hours was beginning to form. Former VUWSA President Marcail was in one ear, giving her account of the union's untimely demise, while former NZUSA President Ellen was in the other – undercutting Marcail’s story and claiming she had receipts. Add to that the 10+ other student presidents I spoke to. Let me say now: when it comes to NZUSA, everyone has an opinion – including those who were probably in Year 11 Social Studies when it all went down. Someone fetch me a glass (bottle) of wine.
The last we publicly heard from NZUSA was early last year in the form of an ominous Facebook post. National President Ellen Dixon and co-Vice President Tangihaere Gardiner announced on Facebook that they were leaving NZUSA. Ellen’s incredibly stacked LinkedIn shows that she started with NZUSA as the National Education Officer in January 2021, then became National President in November of 2022. Tangi was a former Vice President of the National Disabled Students’ Association (NDSA).
The post alleged that the election process that would have determined their successors had been “messed up by others”, meaning that they couldn’t hand over their roles. They’d had enough. “We have not been very fairly treated while we were in this organisation, so we decided to leave,” the post reads. “We don’t feel that this currently represents good student unionism, so we weren’t happy to stay.” And that was it. NZUSA’s long line of presidents didn’t end with a bang, but a vexed Facebook post. The next day, the page’s intro was changed to: “We are NZUSA, the national voice for tertiary students in New Zealand. Authorised by Who Knows?” with a laughing emoji – to really rub salt in the wound.
I reached out to every student president under the fucking sun to figure out what this Facebook post meant (okay, it was just current ATSA members and UCSA). What I’ve dredged up hopefully paints a somewhat clear picture of what must have gone down, though there’s still a chance that what happened in NZUSA will stay in NZUSA. Between the amount of information that I’ve been told strictly “off the record” and to avoid the potential of any legal action, I can only write so much.
Back in August, Salient (Victoria University’s student magazine) reported on Marcail’s take on her time with NZUSA, particularly what she believed to have caused its downfall. She claimed that ever since VSM in 2011, NZUSA had struggled to retain members, having lost much of its power. Marcail further alleged to Salient that NZUSA had grown “structurally unstable” and “corrupt”. “The role of the President effectively became a power grab […] people were using fees to attend overseas conferences rather than helping students.” Salient also reported on rumours that the IRD were investigating the organisation, and that it hadn’t been audited in over seven years. The article was taken down for factual inaccuracy. I'm not certain exactly which facts, but I was unable to find any evidence to substantiate these reports, nor any claims of unjustified overseas travel.
The alleged misappropriation of funds and the NZUSA Presidency being a “power grab” are pretty bold claims to make. This holds especially true if we take Ellen and Tangi’s Facebook post at face value – claiming they left NZUSA due to feeling increasingly poorly treated in the lead-up to the NZUSA elections. When I first reached out to Ellen and Tangi asking if they would like to arrange an interview regarding NZUSA, they declined, citing an ongoing process with the Employment Relations Authority with some of the members of the ATSA who are still in the functioning NZUSA. The Employment Relations Authority (ERA) is like the Tenancy Tribunal but for employment law – whatever happened in NZUSA must have been quite serious.
I approached fresh-faced VUWSA President Liban Ali about his predecessor's claims, who also stone-walled enquiries. When asked if he could comment, he gave me a curt “no”. Liban refused to speculate and lacked context surrounding what ex-Prez Marcail may have been referring to. A sensible stance – but maybe other presidents would have no such reservations. I turned to OUSA President Liam White, one of the few remaining members of NZUSA. While Liam only took over as OUSA President in January (well after the union dropped off the radar) I figured he might’ve gotten an idea of what went down. What did he make of Marcail’s loaded claims? “I don’t know, that’s the bit where it gets really sketchy,” Liam told me, sounding strained from the hours he’s been putting into the uphill battle of NZUSA and ATSA.
I couldn’t take the mystery any longer. I picked up the phone and went straight to the horse’s mouth: Marcail. “It wasn’t about any specific presidents,” she told me. “It was just about repeated behaviour that had happened over the past decade.” She listed what she saw as financial missteps, along with personal concerns about leadership. Sounding like a conspiratorial contestant on a dating show, she speculated about people taking on the role for the “wrong reasons” and “not dedicating enough of their time to students”. During this tumultuous time, Marcail pointed out that multiple student associations left – only four university associations were members in NZUSA’s final hour. “Having four out of eight [university] associations as part of your national group is not a good look,” she stressed. To be fair, the last association to leave (aside from VUWSA in 2024) was AUSA in 2021 – and NZUSA’s membership had been stable since then.
“The stuff about the election process having confusion and issues with it is true,” Marcail continued, speaking to Ellen and Tangi’s resignation post on Facebook. Her version of events is that Ellen and Tangi (on behalf of NZUSA) cancelled the 2024 election and didn’t set up a new one. “That was purely because there were allegations about people who were running for a position, to do with bullying, and Ellen and Tangi didn’t feel they were in a position to moderate those discussions [...] The election process was ‘messed up’ because people brought formal complaints against people who were running.” A total can of worms, to say the least.
You’ll remember Ellen had initially declined to comment. But after hearing about my juicy kōrero with Marcail, and after her advocacy team gave her the go-ahead, she too picked up the phone. Enter contestant number two. Ellen’s perspective was that while she and Tangi had had two failed election attempts while running NZUSA, Marcail’s comments about them being unable to moderate these discussions may not have been the full picture.
“When Tangihaere and I were running NZUSA, we attempted to run two elections,” Ellen told me. “[Both elections] were jeopardised by members for reasons potentially threatening the reincorporation of NZUSA under the Incorporated Societies Act.” For those who aren’t intimately familiar with the Incorporated Societies Act (read: have a life), it just means that NZUSA would cease to exist. According to Ellen, the first election got canned due to two candidates having formal complaints or threats of formal complaints being laid against them by local students’ associations for “various alleged reasons”. Ellen claimed there were also issues with the way that these candidates ran for their roles, which might have violated the law at the time.
Ellen’s version of events is that the second election attempt fell over due to members' failing to listen to the polytechnic representatives in NZUSA, which she felt “divided the university and polytechnic representatives.” Ellen and Tangi ultimately threw in the towel at this point, which is when they made the Facebook post. “[The election issues] did not represent the vision of solidarity that Tangihaere and I have for students in Aotearoa New Zealand, or our personal values, hence we resigned.”
In terms of the unjustified travel that Salient and Marcail alluded to, Ellen argued that NZUSA’s accounts were frankly fucked and that it wasn’t anyone in particular travelling anywhere. To cut a long story extremely short, Ellen suggested that members of NZUSA throughout history had been using incorrect account coding – which tended to make some numbers (particularly around travel) on the finance sheets bigger or smaller. “This was a characteristic of NZUSA having poor budgeting and account management in previous years,” Ellen told me. She even appointed an accountant to try and sort it out when she gained access to the accounts. “Even the accountant agreed that National Council representatives required accounting training due to the mistakes made in previous years,” she said.
There is a bigger problem, one that might explain why Salient mentioned the IRD. As of the October 2023 financial statements (publicly available on the New Zealand Business Number register), NZUSA had nearly $80k worth of unpaid GST and was trading at a loss of just over $84k. Ellen claims that this outstanding total was waived in 2021. “The chartered accountant for NZUSA was on our IRD page in 2023, and would have highlighted this if it were an issue. We were very conscious about it in 2023, so all the tax was paid, and the proof of tax payments were provided at each National Board meeting,” she explained.
As of the 2023 financial statement, NZUSA’s net assets stood at $37,216.62. That seems to be all that’s left of NZUSA now – the organisation that once campaigned for some of the biggest student issues has been reduced to under $40k and a pending Employment Relations Authority case. It all sounds like one really bad joke. What do you get when you put a bunch of relatively unsupervised young people with little business experience in a union, juggling multiple hats and unpaid bills, biting off more than they can chew? I’ll leave you to come up with a punchline.
Aside from the financial dire straits, Liam also spilled the tea on rumours that in-house bickering had plucked the feathers from NZUSA, accelerating their nosedive to demise. He’d heard it was a classic case of knocking heads among big personalities. In Liam’s opinion, the culture among members morphed not into a place to do work but to show off. “At the end of the day, everyone around that table is a student politician. They know what they’re there for – a career in Parliament after. And they see NZUSA as how they make that mark.”
While NZUSA certainly saw its fair share of impressive presidents, Liam believed an unhealthy cycle emerged near the organisation's final breath – presidents would be elected to the position, become inundated with drama, and abandon ship. Rinse and repeat. “It had this pattern of there being a president sometimes, other times not,” Liam claimed, with a severe lack of leadership and direction arriving at a time when it was desperately needed.
NZUSA is in the process of liquidating with the help of OUSA, LUSA and Te Tira Ahu Pae, Massey’s student association. Unfortunately for the cleanup crew, things seem far from squeaky clean – accidentally winding NZUSA up without settling their debts. “We’ve reached out to liquidators and said that ‘this is our process, this is where we’re at’, and they’ve said ‘shit – you’ve done this in completely the wrong order. But we’ll still take it.’ So we’ve got liquidators that we’re working with.” NZUSA: deceased.
Dropping Like Flies
Messiness at NZUSA extended beyond the boardroom bickering. Constitutionally, it was also a shambles. “People had different voting rights depending on their student association and student numbers, which doesn’t feel like a partnership,” said Liam. I then asked Liam if he thought this was potentially feeding into the environment where some people felt that they weren’t treated as well as others. “Uh… probably. If I was going to say who got burned in NZUSA, I would say equity groups, polytechs – everybody involved in NZUSA has probably been fucked over at some point,” he speculated, letting out an exasperated laugh.
The equity groups that Liam is referring to are the national Māori students’ association, Te Mana Ākonga (TMĀ); the National Disabled Students’ Association (NSDA); and New Zealand International Students’ Association (NZISA). They have a special role to play at NZUSA in advocating for their equity groups on a national level alongside the geographically segregated student associations like OUSA. When contacted by Critic, TMĀ chose not to comment.
Irfaan Ariffin is the president of NZISA, and he was not shy about making the group’s historic stance on NZUSA known (yeah, I know – annoyingly similar acronyms). “We didn’t want to be a part of NZUSA. We didn’t agree with the ethos of it,” Irfaan told me, explaining that from his understanding, NZISA had consistently turned away from joining NZUSA. Rather than buy into the beef, NZISA focused on their own policy and relationships with other associations. Irfaan couldn’t provide me with much more detail; he didn’t probe too much when he got the handover documents from his predecessor. Based on what he’d seen, though, he said, “I would agree with Liam that equity groups were being ‘burnt’ in his words, because the fact was that they weren’t actively being involved with NZUSA.”
Alongside NZISA being consistently checked out from the turmoil that was NZUSA, AUT’s President Alicia also explained to me that she didn’t think her association had been a member for several years. She first had the AUTSA and NZUSA discussion come across her table in 2023 when she was Academic Vice-President. Alicia said financial concerns – namely the membership fee – had played a significant role in conversations about rejoining. “I guess we wanted to know where the value was before we paid forward students' money [...] We just wanted to see some results before joining.” AUTSA’s prudence may have been their saving grace.
“The fact that not everyone was a member…” Alicia began, before trailing off. “Say if AUTSA were the only one who wasn't a member, it may have prompted a different conversation.” Indeed, NZUSA’s members were dwindling. A 12-month leaving notice was given by AUSA in 2021, closely followed by VUWSA in late 2022. VUWSA’s vote to leave was made after years of “unhappiness” and failing to find “the value we get for the $45,500 levy we pay.” Value extraction seems to be a common concern for NZUSA members and spectators. Although VUWSA indicated they might stick around if their concerns were addressed, they permanently withdrew in August 2024 – interestingly, while Marcail was still an officer of NZUSA. “This decision was informed by several factors, primarily the significant financial risks and liabilities associated with our continued membership,” VUWSA explained in a media release.
“There was a huge discussion that took place at the end of last year to decide to close NZUSA when we were talking about ATSA and how that would work. It felt really unfortunate that a national student body that had been around for over 90 years was coming to an end in our time,” Alicia told me, sounding genuinely regretful. She described that, in a way, it felt like ATSA’s formation was to the final detriment of NZUSA. Like pulling the plug on the daddy union’s life support. While it felt “weird to turn a new leaf”, Alicia couldn’t look past the issues that had plagued NZUSA. “We kind of just needed a new start,” she said, referring to the new iteration of NZUSA under a different name that didn’t carry the same baggage. “It’s exciting to get a national voice together [with ATSA] to talk about student issues.”
So let’s talk about ATSA.
A New Dawn: ATSA
Aotearoa Tertiary Students’ Association (ATSA) is a fledgling phoenix attempting to rise on brittle limbs from the disappointing ashes of NZUSA. Or the secret identity the main character in a movie adopts after faking their death, leaving the turmoil of their past life behind them – Gone Girl style. A media statement released on March 20th by Instagram user @atsa.nz (with no profile pic yet – sloppy) announced: “A collaborative body focused on improving communication and strengthening the student movement nationwide.” The whole gang is here this time – NZISA, NDSA, TMĀ, LUSA, OUSA, AUTSA, AUSA, Te Tira Ahu Pae and VUWSA. Enough acronyms to make you regret human evolution itself.
“ATSA is dedicated to ensuring that student interests are effectively represented and that the collective voice of students is heard on important issues,” the post reads. “By fostering closer relationships and collaboration among students’ associations, the committee seeks to create a more unified approach to addressing the needs of students.” That’s nice, honey.
Liban seems like a real spokesperson for what ATSA aims to accomplish. “The previous national student body was plagued with a lot of dialogue that shifted the conversation away from student interest,” Liban explained. A euphemism for constant bickering. “A lot of egos were getting in the way of work that needs to be done by students, for students,” Liban admitted. Sounds similar to Liam’s speculation about NZUSA devolving into a place to show off. “The foundations on which ATSA is built are focused on what students need. We need [ATSA] to relate back to the students.”
I asked Liban about whether ATSA was engaging in any discussion about that big scary membership fee. “It’s a talking point, but not one [ATSA] has really engaged in,” he admitted. “Right now, we’re trying to figure out structure and sustainability. My personal opinion is that I don’t want to talk about finances until we have a sustainable structure or plan, you know? I don’t think that sets us up well – we could crash and burn.” Sounds like a national student union that I used to know.
Thinking about the kinds of discussions that may have plagued the dying (and broke) NZUSA, I asked if postponing discussion of fees might make ATSA more productive compared to its predecessor. “Yeah, definitely,” Liban agreed. “It makes us more productive [...]. Later down the line, where we do have the conversation about contributing finances to hire admin and whatnot, we can have a good, robust and genuine discussion rather than coming in guns blazing [...].”
Liam’s opinion seemed to echo what Liban was saying when asked the same question about fees. “The poison pill in NZUSA was that money was changing hands, which made things really difficult. It meant that any conversation you were having, you were talking about someone’s livelihood. You were talking about their groceries. It was very difficult to talk about anything else,” he explained. Here’s to hoping tabling the conversation about fees isn’t just delaying the inevitable – more bickering.
Canterbury’s student association (UCSA) is notably absent from ATSA’s lineup. When asked for comment about UCSA’s long standing no-show in both NZUSA and now ATSA, President Luc MacKay told me that UCSA hadn’t been a member of a national student body since the early 2000s, choosing instead to surpass the whole sticky situation by working directly with the University, local government, and national decision-makers. UCSA also considers itself pretty buddy-buddy with other student associations, and makes use of those relationships without a formal body.
It’s been working pretty well for them so far – they’ve likely saved a buck or two, not only on membership but on migraine medicine. So, they figured "why fix what ain’t broke" and decided to stay out of ATSA. But they’re open to changing their minds. Luc confirmed that UCSA is committed to reviewing their decision in mid-2025 and will be keeping a close eye on ATSA in the meantime. Imagine UCSA as a hiring manager who watches you like a hawk during a job trial. Let’s see if ATSA makes it through the first shift.
Will ATSA Fly?
Three meetings in, ATSA already has issues, quelling my hopes for the hatchling to take flight. The minutes for an ATSA meeting held on the 25th of March indicate some tensions arising over whether members should be paid for their time on working groups. What initially started as a discussion about equity groups advocating for compensation escalated to “Well – shouldn’t we all be getting paid?”
Eloise, co-President of NDSA told me that they were “hoping to work with individual associations around pay, and show the benefits our unique experience and skills between equity groups would provide.” Eloise expressed that NDSA was “a bit disappointed” in how that conversation went. “Overall, it's been indicative of the previous issues experienced by equity representatives throughout NZUSA,” she told me. They hope that local associations consider whether they truly value the experience and skills provided by national equity groups. “I question how ATSA intends to change attitudes towards equity and vocational learners,” Eloise said. They expressed uncertainty about whether ATSA would be “safe, equitable, and considerate” if NDSA were to introduce members from other tertiary education providers and private training establishments.
Despite these concerns, Eloise described NDSA’s feelings about ATSA as “cautiously optimistic,” and that “there have been improvements since NZUSA”, but “whether or not there has been real change remains to be seen.” Time will tell. “The tertiary sector has recently undergone significant change [...]. We hope ATSA will work with us to ensure our learners are not left behind or fall through the cracks.” Eloise finished NDSA’s comment by expressing that NDSA’s primary goal is to make change for students – “whatever the cost.”
As a solution, Liam and Gabriel (AUSA’s President) suggested that student associations could offer their own equity group members to sit on behalf of national equity groups such as NDSA, NZISA and TMĀ. This would essentially provide those equity groups with a paid member to work on their behalf toward shared issues.
To give you an example, that would be like taking Ibuki (Buki) Nishida (OUSA’s International Rep) and getting him to sit on working groups on behalf of NZISA. Buki and NZISA have the same goal: helping international students. Given Buki needs to meet his 10 hours for OUSA, working on a group on behalf of NZISA would only help him meet this. Plus, it's a more hands-on-deck approach for national equity groups, who are sadly underfunded and overworked.
But the current NZISA President Irfaan wasn’t on board with this suggestion. He raised concerns that having equity representatives from student associations may diminish the role of equity groups (such as NZISA) on national committees. There’s room for criticism here: is worrying about the diminished role of national groups beside the point when you’re basically getting free helping hands? Explaining his logic, Irfaan continued with the Buki example – reiterating multiple times “on the record” that he loves Buki and it’s nothing personal. As Buki is a part of OUSA, he sits on NZISA’s reps council. “We listen to him, we take his point of view, we go to the Government,” said Irfaan. But to have Buki to sit in on the NZUSA committee (“again, I love him”) would mean that OUSA is sitting in, Irfaan explained: “His allegiance is to OUSA. Mine is to NZISA.”
Despite the disagreement, Irfaan suggested that some execs had misinterpreted the situation – assuming that if equity groups wanted to be paid, they wouldn’t bother with the working committees if they couldn’t compensate their members. “We don’t agree with that,” Irfaan said firmly. “Equity groups feel that they need involvement.”
Irfaan touches on a core issue that ATSA will always wrestle with: the many hats that student politicians wear across different committees. At the end of the day, student associations owe their ultimate loyalty to their own – the students on their campus, facing local issues. Asking presidents to contribute to ATSA means asking them to juggle national student interests, when they get paid (barely) to serve their own. Personally, I’d be pissed if my monetary contributions to OUSA were being used for the benefit of Auckland students – isn’t that AUSA’s problem? And vice versa, times eight member associations.
It’s a sentiment felt by elected student reps across the motu. As UCSA’s Luc put it, explaining their continued absence from ATSA: “Our priority remains ensuring the best possible outcomes for UC students, and we will continue to collaborate with our peers across the country to achieve that goal.” Student associations are driven by the needs of their own students, and that remains their top priority. Everything, including national collaboration, revolves around this focus. At least UCSA was honest about it.
Arguably, the risk of power struggles among presidents is somewhat curbed by ATSA’s lack of staff and its rotating chair structure. It's a bit like musical chairs – the power dynamics remain fluid, keeping any one person from holding too much sway. Liam told me that no one person has the social media passwords (maybe the whole NZUSA Facebook thing taught people a lesson), and Irfaan certainly felt that issues within ATSA were resolved quickly and effectively.
I have one final note about ATSA: an anti-VSM campaign is not on the cards. That’s quite a shock, given how funds are the lifeblood for any student association – national or otherwise. Reminder: VSM means student associations going cap in hand to universities to ask for money. Liam told me that OUSA, alongside other individual associations, are keen to pursue VSM individually. “There are a lot of national political campaigns that need to happen. Whether they happen through ATSA or not, they’ll happen. Even if it kills me, it’ll happen,” Liam told me. That’s some devotion.
Wrap Up
After clawing my way out of the rabbit hole – sifting through legal documents, maddeningly media-trained email replies, business ledgers, he-said she-saids and more off-the-record piping hot tea than I’d expect from a hall of residence (not a student body my money is being wasted in) – I can only describe NZUSA’s unravelling as a complete shitshow. I'd be more subtle about it, but after being talked in circles by students clearly destined for careers as politicians, I'm too tired and too frustrated not to call it like I see it. It had all the markings of classical political corruption (or the season finale of vintage Shortland Street): big egos, dubious financial records and worryingly little financial attention paid to the very stakeholders who matter most –that’s us, the students. Way to fucking go.
Against all odds, a Horton Hears a Who! speck of hope persists (very) deep within me. What became of NZUSA does not have to become ATSA’s fate. If members can recognise and remain honest about the role they are serving, progress toward national student issues can be made – despite competing local interests. While student associations are all unique, they must unite on the common ground of student wellbeing. Nothing is more important, and I don’t want my money spent on anything other than the success of my fellow students. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about any overseas conference when my mates have mushrooms growing in their living room – whether that’s in Dunedin or Wellington. If ATSA can help us, then use my money for that.