Dialogue: Jonah's lesson - stand tall, be strong

By CHRISTINE RANKIN

Oh Jonah, what a man! That arm across his chest during the national anthem. Many New Zealanders don't like that: it's too intense, too passionate, too vulnerable. The fire in his eyes. The joy on his face after scoring a scintillating try. He's my man and I'm his fan. He is what he is and all he wants to do is play harder, do better, make people happy.

Jonah deserves to be one of our biggest heroes. God knows, we need them. At times we've done to Jonah what we do to so many of our heroes - bagged him at every opportunity: no good on defence, can't tackle, can't read the game. But last Saturday every time he got the ball he did something positive.

For me, Jonah epitomises what I believe in: that you can make it against huge odds if you believe in your talent and stay positive. Here is a young New Zealand-born Tongan boy, not born into money or privilege, given an extraordinary talent that someone, and probably a series of people, nurtured.

He did outstanding things on the rugby field for a long time, and when he went through the inevitable down period we put the boot in. When he stumbled through his words with a television camera stuck in his face we said he was dumb and inarticulate. He faced illness that could kill many people. We said he was finished, but he wasn't and isn't.

He could have given up, and must have been tempted. It's tough when this nation gives you hell. Believe me, it's very tempting to run away. But Jonah has always had a powerful passion for his game and his fans.

I saw Jonah play against Australia in that famous last test at Athletic Park in Wellington. Every player he knocked down he picked up, dusted off and sent on their way. After the agonising loss at the World Cup, although obviously devastated, he stayed on the field to congratulate the opposition.

No one in my circle dares to criticise my Jonah, not even in jest. They all know that I know little about rugby but my admiration for his success, courage and generosity of spirit is enormous.

I've had a painting on my lounge wall for three years now, the same period I was with Work and Income. I'm not sure whether it's a great work of art in any conventional sense, but it keeps speaking to me, every day.

There is a woman on a rocking horse dressed in a bright red corset and fish nets. She's strong, though vulnerable, and not classically beautiful. There are three balls in the air, which she is juggling while rocking. Around her is water, but leading out of the water is a golden pathway to some gates that are open to a bright light, presumably the future.

The minute I first saw it in a magazine I had to have it. I was afraid for her, because even though the gateway to a promising future is open, she can't take her eye off those balls, even for one moment, for fear that they crash to the ground. Then all would be lost, wouldn't it?

The message that screams at me is that we, especially women, load our lives with expectations of ourselves. We have to be so much to so many. We can't make mistakes. We must keep all the balls in the air even when others are deliberately rocking the horse. The gate is open, but too often we can't focus on the opportunities for fear of dropping a ball.

And if that happens the collective boot goes in. Jonah would know that.

Some call it the tall poppy syndrome, but it's subtly different.

We are afraid of talent because it shows us up. Many talented women are rising to prominence in all walks of life but the bar is continually raised and the horse is ever more vigorously rocked.

I felt that very strongly at Work and Income. We were merging two departments of Government into the largest state organisation, introducing a wide range of new policies, restructuring to reduce costs and trying to create a successful organisation.

If these balls weren't hard enough to juggle, we had to face a succession of departmental reviews (seven in two years), largely designed to destabilise us, to make us drop a ball.

This is not an issue of gender, it's an issue of supporting and fostering talent. Ironically, it takes courage to express talent and create opportunities when talent is not supported. This involves risk. If we don't support talent and don't accept a level of risk, we can become overly careful, defensive, self-protective and controlling. We become obsessed with simply keeping balls in the air and never develop or achieve a vision.

Positive, energetic and committed leadership fosters talent and it will be the collective results of our talent that will reverse our slide in the world's prosperity rankings which is the subject of so much hand-wringing.

It's not an issue of gender, it's an issue of attitude. Ask Jonah.