End of moratorium draws peace activist into battle

By SARAH LANG

It's a wintry afternoon in Huia, West Auckland, and Laurie Ross is clad in her at-home clothes. Purple jersey, green slippers, and green leggings tucked into brown legwarmers.

Her greying hair and faint lines may be the signs of a woman turning the corner from middle age but Ross, a 54-year-old veteran of the peace movement, still radiates energy.

As one of the organisers of Take 5, she is immersed in a last-ditch effort to persuade the Government to keep genetic engineering in the lab for five more years.

"D-day" is October 29, when the moratorium on the commercial release of GE organisms is set to end.

Ross' experience in publicity and event organisation is spurring on the Take 5 campaign in Auckland. An "Earth Pulse" dance party in Birkenhead is her latest baby, with a mix of music and information on GE. She's also preparing to lobby West Auckland MPs on the GE-free cause.

But what Ross enjoys most is working at the grassroots. You can spot her at her stall on the streets of West Auckland talking about GE.

Ross is adamant the GE-free movement is the voice of the public, "not just a fringe group or a few odd people", and says New Zealanders must show the weight of their opinion.

According to a recent Herald poll, 69 per cent of New Zealanders want to keep GE in the lab.

Ross is quick to point out the Take 5 campaign is not anti-science. New Zealand, she says, needs to stick to a "precautionary principle".

"What's the hurry? Once we let the genie out of the bottle, we won't be able to get it back in, and we'll lose millions of dollars worth of trade. Our major trading partners do not want to eat GE or import it."

Ross's home and haven, Huia Bay, is a small community southwest of Titirangi. She "semi-retired" there 10 years ago after her daughters left home.

Upstairs is "the inner sanctum", a welcoming space where peaceful music streams from the stereo.

Downstairs contains a mishmash of treasures she has collected over the years. Pulled-out drawers are piled with clippings on subjects that interest her - "just in case".

First and foremost, Ross sees herself as a "peaceworker", who directs her vision to the practical. Recently she's turned her hand to staging cultural and performing arts events, particularly musical concerts that draw refugee culture into the community. Last year, she raised $33,000 to stage the North Shore World Peace Concert.

Ross rejects any suggestion that she's not living in the real world. "The far right tries to paint the picture that people in movements for change are extremists, anti-establishment, extreme left-wingers - without looking for truer voices."

She chuckles, though, about her most "serious problem".

"As soon as I say something, I immediately think of the opposite view. You know, I don't fit into categories."

A pause, and the eyes spark. "Well maybe I do. First, a human being on earth. Second, a New Zealander. Third, a woman. And fourth, an aged person," she smiles wryly.

The eldest of six, Ross was 13 when her family immigrated to New Zealand from Canada in 1962. She left Christchurch for Auckland at 17 to study arts at Auckland University but she dropped out before finishing her degree. "The pressure didn't suit me," she laughs.

At 19, she met the man who would become her husband, David Theobold, a social worker and teacher and a few years later the couple moved to the Coromandel.

Ross says that time spent "searching around in my head" was one foundation of her peace work. Another was her father. Larry Ross was a driving force behind the nuclear-free movement.

Ross says working in sales and promotion in Auckland in the 70s gave her life experience to mix with her ideals. She's been involved in a range of organisations, including the Friends of Refugees Trust, UN Earth Summit Committee, and Auckland Tree Council, to name just a few. Environmental and social issues are inextricably linked, she says.

Ross is a founding member of the Greens. "After ten years as an environmental activist, I realised how important it was the Green position be taken more seriously as a political force, and how that can influence the world."

With just a tinge of regret, Ross talks of her bid for the Onehunga seat in 1990. She came third in an area where the major parties had strong track records and support, and decided to return to her peace work.

"If I'd enjoyed politics more, I might've kept on going. I wouldn't really enjoy endless council meetings or being in Parliament every day - and you have to compromise your own values."

New Zealand, Ross says, is in a prime position to be a peacemaker nation. It's a great vantage point, she says. "Full of brave and free minds - not naive, but candid. We call a spade a spade."

She urges Helen Clark (whom she greatly admires) not to bend New Zealand's voice to US pressure, particularly pressure to get involved in war.

"If you have a friend who is prone to having psychotic episodes and shooting people, you wouldn't pick up a gun - you'd refer them to a counsellor or try to talk them out of it."

Ross admits she passed through a cynical stage. "You think, 'oh I'm going to ignore all this', and all you feel is a nagging ... in the end cynics can only survive so long."

But Ross' commitments have taken their toll on her energy levels and health. The light in her eyes dims for a moment when she speaks of her down times. Husband David died a few years ago, but daughters Natarani and Blessing are a great joy to her.

Time out for Ross is walking in the bush, reading, singing, and playing the drums and guitar. A trained dancer and choreographer, she teaches the "dances of universal peace" – meditational movements performed in a group circle to spiritual songs.

Music and dance, she says, are universal languages. "It's asking how can we express it together? Actually listening out rather than listening in."

And listening out, Ross declares, is what the peace movement is about.

"A lot of people think it's about marching up Queen St a couple of times a year on an issue that's obviously violating peace and justice, but what it's actually about is developing a culture of consciousness - on what it is in our society that perpetuates violence, militarism and war as an inevitable way of life."

Ross is at pains to point out being a peace worker is not the same as being a "pacifist". Sometimes force is required, she says. But what most disturbs her is superpower nations not just relying on military power but wanting it to be the status quo.

"We need to work out how to respond to violence and terror in intellectual ways, rather than saying 'look, there's someone doing something bad over there – let's bomb them!'

"Our potential as humans is to evolve and change our behaviour. As a culture, a nation, as humans, we need to continue conversation.

"Even if it seems impossible, a dream, it could happen - if we set our minds to it."

* Sarah Lang is a journalism student at Auckland University of Technology.