It hit me like a ton of green bananas. I was eight when I realised that all men were not created equal. I can't recall if it was a mocking retort that neighbouring kids spat at me while poking tongues and flattening their noses or a shocking personal revelation. It was as if somebody had switched on the TV and instead of the world being a blend of murky greys, blacks and whites - all of a sudden the world was coloured. THATS WHEN I REALISED - I WAS BROWN!!!

So what's the big drama? Yere, I'm a New Zealand born Pacific Islander, a Polynesian. I have the advantage of tanning without peeling, a natural rhythm, musical an artistic ability. I also have an exotic history and islands in the pacific full of a richness of culture and pride and of which I can call my own.

But as an eight year old pacific islander in a predominantly European school and neighbourhood, being 'brown' meant something totally different back then.

Brown people were poor. Brown people were few and far between. I have since learned the word for this is minority. Brown people were fat, big boned the euphemism more commonly used. Brown people had lots of kids and the parents of these kids worked in factories or were cleaners. But the most devastating thing about these revelations was the fact that I WOULD ALWAYS BE BROWN. I knew this to be fact because I attempted to remove it - but soap wouldnt budge it!

Around this time I discovered GOD. God had made a mistake - somebody was to blame! It had not occurred to me that my Parents had anything to do with it. God had put me there and I guess we had to be colour co-ordinated. You can't put a white kid in a brown family!

I am one of 7 children - in the line up I come somewhere in the middle. As a kid I had a very dark complexion - this was noticed by a neighbour who declared 'Ooooo, shes much darker than the others!' Concerned by her reaction my parents gave me a pet name - of which I won't reveal - but with this name I gained a sense of pride in myself. What a gift my parents nurturing has become in my adult life.

My father is Niuean - I inherited his love of the sun and people. His thirst for knowledge, his pride and temper. Like him, I think too long and hard about hurtful things but with this comes the ability to understand others shortcomings. He gifted me with his dark complexion and curly unmanageable hair.

My mother, Cook Islander. SHE is the real woman of substance. A survivor, a nurturer. A woman who speaks from the heart and shoots from the hip. Determined and committed and extremely resourceful - she spent ten years working on a concrete factory floor wearing jandals in summer and jandals and socks in winter.

Both my parents possess a wicked sense of humour, would give anyone in need the shirt of their backs. Spirituality and family their ultimate values amongst so many others.

As a young teenager I was shy and sensitive but managed to disguise this by using my wicked Pacific sense of humour amongst friends.

They say we're still failing in the school system - if judged by this system I would be considered one of those failures. In the middle of my fifth form year we moved from Wellington to Auckland for my fathers work in the church. What a culture shock! I was no longer a Pacific Islander or identified mistakenly as a' Maori'. I had to choose. Samoan, Cook Island, Tongan, Niuean, Tokelau, Fijiian,. It wasn't good enough to say you were Polynesian you had to know your heritage, your culture, your language or languages.

Looking back - my parents were sent to New Zealand at a young age for schooling. They struggled to assimilate, they encountered difficulties with language, culture, acclimatising, getting a good education and jobs that paid enough to support all their kids with Pacific appetites. Their dream, like so many others was to create a better life for their children, ensure we received a good education and give us the best start in life that they could. They saw the Pacific culture and language as being something that could hinder our chances of being successful 'Kiwis'.

So here I was amongst so many Pacific Island peers and it hit me like a falling coconut, I WAS WHITE. I watched the Tongans talk and laugh amongst themselves, the Samoans play Kilikite, hooping and cackling, slapping and stamping. I watched the Cookies in their culture group, the Fijians and Niueans and wondered - WHO AM I? WHAT AM I?

I am a New Zealand born Pacific Islander. I am not just a Niuean. I am not just a Cook Islander. I am not just a KIWI. I am all of these and more.

I represent over half of the Pacific Island community in New Zealand.