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Biscuitball

Oliver Dunn (He/Him)

Three weekends ago, a ragtag team of underdogs made history by becoming the first Waikato men’s team to ever hoist the UTSNZ shield. Not known for their 3x3 basketball, Waikato handled Lincoln University in the final with a game winning free throw from Te Maire van der Leden.

The 22-year-old guard left his stamp on the National Tertiary tournament, scoring the winning point in all three of the team’s playoff games. van der Leden describes his emotions moments after scoring the championship winning point:

‘Thank fuck I made one of those free throws.’

Having finished last and second to last between their men’s and women’s team in 2021, the Waikato Kāhu squad seemed longshots to make any real noise in Palmerston North. Despite all this, they took home gold in the men’s competition, finished fourth in the women’s, and had two players named to the tournament team – Jack McManaway and Maya Taingahue.

‘We were pretty much all the exact same guy,’ van der Leden remarked when asked about team chemistry. ‘Most of us were 6’2, 6’3, two-way guards, and if one of us wasn’t hitting that day, someone else was. There was always someone with a hot hand.’

Joining van der Leden on the men’s team was Jack McManaway, a streaky scorer who came alive in the playoffs, Jayden Taufale, a lethal sniper from deep, and Dan Dobson, a rookie unphased by the moment, playing his best basketball in the final.

‘Heading into the final, everyone was pushing the narrative of us being underdogs,’ van der Leden said. ‘Yeah we lost our first game, pretty badly, but I thought we were the team to beat.’

Going up against Lincoln University, runners up from last year, Waikato faced a daunting opponent in the final. Known for their interior defence and a dangerous point guard, the white and blue kept it close at the start, but fell away down the stretch.

‘The boys lit it up from deep and stuck with it. We stayed locked in.’

Now a veteran for Waikato, van der Leden ranks this championship right up there near the top of his sporting achievements, on par with a full court buzzer beater in Year 8.

‘It’s probably the highlight of my tertiary career. The whole weekend was great. The experience and the culture, it was cool to be a part of. We were just as hyped for the girl’s games, and vice versa.’

To bi or not to bi

I am bisexual. Maybe. Probably. The thing is, I don’t really know for sure. I’ve always mostly had eyes for men, and I’m happily in love with one now, but there were times back in high school where I found myself thinking a lot of impure thoughts about my female friends. But it’s confusing; on one hand, I’ve only had major feelings for four different girls in my life. On the other hand, they were some of the biggest crushes I’ve ever had. So, which is it? Bi? Or straight?

This all started when I was eleven. A new girl started going to my school, and confused the shit out of me. I knew I liked boys (I was kinda obsessed with them from an early age), but I also liked her. What the heck did this mean? I didn’t even know the word “bisexual” yet; I thought I must be really weird. The craziest part was that there were times that I could’ve sworn she liked me too, but it was so hard to tell. We’d be cuddled up together on her couch, occasionally looking deeply into each other’s eyes, but then she would say something like, ‘wow, I wish I had a boyfriend to do this with’. Ugh. My poor little heart.

As soon as I discovered the term “bisexual”, I was desperate to know if this was what I was. Thus beginning my long, long journey of “questioning”. I took online quizzes, I asked strangers on the internet, I even tried coming out to a random guy at a teen camp that my parents sent me on. Nothing helped. I was still decidedly unsure. I went through high school, falling for different girls, but never quite wanting to call myself bisexual. Eventually I started to come out more and more, simply telling people I ‘might be bi’, but no one seemed to understand. People loved labels, and so people started labeling me. To my friends, I was bisexual. They didn’t understand that in my mind, I was just “maybe bisexual”, or “potentially bisexual”. In the world of today, you can’t really come out as Maybe.

What I really wanted most in the world was for Future Sarah to have a time-machine. I daydreamed about a cool and confident older version of me, appearing in a Tardis, and saying, ‘hey kid. You’re bi’. While there is definitely some wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey reason why that wouldn’t be possible in the world of space-time travel, I think it’s a fair request. So here I am, younger Sarah, and I’m going to tell you, and all the other long-time questioners out there, the truth: it really doesn’t matter.

I know you want a nice tidy label to box yourself into. I know it would be so much easier if you knew exactly what you are so that you can tell people. But you don’t need a label to know what and who you are. I’m serious, you can literally just say to people, ‘I mostly like boys, but occasionally I get crushes on girls’. And if they try to tell you that you’re bi, or that you’re basically just straight, just tell them, ‘actually, no; that isn’t what I said’. Despite what they’ll tell you, you can come out as Maybe.

The thing is, if someone had said this to little Sarah, she wouldn’t have listened. It was something I needed to learn over time, until the point that I could say to people ‘I just like whoever I like’. As a long-time questioner, I know that some questions simply don’t have one answer- and that’s absolutely okay.

BEING IN LOVE AND DISABLED

Recently, I have been thinking about what pride means to me as a disabled individual who is also a part of the LGBTQ+ community. And, to put it simply, the answer is freedom. Freedom to love whoever I want regardless of my sexuality and interest in romance - but also to love regardless of what my body may or may not be hindered by. To remember that there is more to me than just the disability that compromises my mobility, and sometimes my mind. And that love can be simple or complicated and still be beautiful. Confused? Let me explain.

Dating as a queer person can be challenging at the best of times (thanks COVID for throwing another curveball for it), but dating as a disabled person adds another round of challenges. On top of the usual “will this person be attracted to my physical appearance?”, “what if I slip up?”, “how do I make a good impression?” and “is this too much or too far?”, there are other questions to consider. “Will this person support my access needs?”, “will this person look at me and say I’m too much?”, “does this person even know what my condition is?”, and “what if they are ableist?” It can be extremely intimidating. Pride can be a reminder that no matter what, we are deserving of love. Our conditions and the ways we have to adapt to life do not mean that we are incapable of loving or being loved.

This is something that we often forget, which is heartbreaking. So often I find myself - and hear others find themselves - thinking of their disabled selves as burdens or not good enough. Thinking that others should go find less because they are too much. And pride highlights that love should always win. That love does not discriminate against body types or attraction to certain genders or how capable our bodies are. Pride is a reminder that love transcends the physical world, and is a union of two (or more) souls and minds, as well as bodies. That love is based more on human connection and positivity rather than what can hinder or challenge a person.

You may be asking yourself - how can I help? How can I celebrate disabled people and the queer community? How can I support people? And the answer to this is simple, too. Know enough about what challenges a disabled person - their condition, the specific effects they deal with - but also ask and learn about them as a person. What music do they love? What are their favourite memories? Remind them that there is more to them than their disabilities, and that they are worthy of love.

To members of the disabled community - I understand why you may forget how amazing you are. How you can feel consumed by the disability and all that it entails. But you are worthy. There is more to you than your disability. And you are both cherished and deserve to be cherished. And life has many beautiful connections in store for you.

Fashion is an instrument for expression and experimentation - and who better an example of that than the queer community? We have them to thank for most of the trends that we see come through the decades.

So next time you’re feeling spendy and want an excuse, you can peruse and shop these queer-owned and/or inclusive NZ brands under the guise of ‘supporting local.’ Dog-ear this page, would ya?

Infamy Apparel:

Amy Lautogo started Infamy Apparel in 2019, a brand dedicated to fat advocacy through fashion, and in their words, ‘decolonising fat fashion one garment at a time.’

Based out of Tāmaki Makaurau, Infamy can do custom designs made for you or have ready-to-wear designs too! The designs are unapologetic, bold and funky with Amy being motivated primarily by her mood and senses. Any brand that has a story and principles behind the clothes has my heart.

She’s taking a break for now, but when she’s back…. *slams card on table*

Papa Clothing:

This Pacific-run clothing label sucked me in with its focus on natural materials, sustainable values, and emphasis on mending and repairing your clothes (a sustainable fashion girlies wet dream). The diversity of their customer base tells all, ranging across age, size, gender, and culture. Papa clothing’s silhouettes are easy to wear for anyone. ‘Inclusivity to us means amplifying the beauty of those that are often marginalized by the fashion industry, especially those within the queer and Pasifika communities that the Papa brand has roots in.’ They are mostly made to order, but some pieces are available to be shipped out ASAP.

I Want Fluff:

Run by Azure Sky Elis, I Want Fluff is a jewellery brand based out of Christchurch. All handmade to order with a huge range of goodies to choose from (like seriously, just doing research for this article almost had me adding to cart many a time). Creating badges, necklaces, earrings, mirrors, and even portraits, this gal has you covered for cute, queer, and unique pieces to adorn your body or home with. Her ‘not today coloniser,’ ‘land back,’ ‘spread your legs not covid,’ and pronoun dangly kupu earrings are personal faves. (Is it still considered a fave if there’s more than one?)

Agnes and Edie:

After feeling frustrated with the lack of suitable NZ-made binders, Margot founded Agnes and Edie. This queer-owned and-run Aotearoa boutique is full to the brim with accessories, clothing, books, and gender-affirming and queer-affirming products. Based in the North Island, it’s your one-stop-shop for information, education, and accessible help.

It’s bloody hard out there, so all of Agnes & Edie's gender-affirming wear is sold as close to cost-price as possible to minimize how spendy it is to source gender-affirming products for the New Zealand queer community. If this sounds like a bitta you, and you have any questions, flick them a message - no matter how big or small they’ve gotcha back.

A love letter to queer vegans (and vegetarians)

From one plant-based friend of Dorothy to another, well done.

I’m writing this letter to remind you how great you are, despite what the haters and naysayers say.

I don’t know you, but I’ve thought about why you’re a cliché and awesome.

You are fucking changing the world. You should be proud that your dietary choice is reducing greenhouse gas and stock emissions, reducing energy consumption, conserving water, chemically stabilising the ocean, protecting rainforests, and preserving habitats.

You have challenged normative identities and practices including the requirement for mandatory dead animals at 7pm. Or that red meat is masculine or what you eat makes you any less a person.

I haven’t met you, but I have a feeling you’re passionate about rejecting forms of violence against groups of people and species. Hot.

Lemme guess, you’re political? Makes sense given the LGBT+’s huge past. I bet you are compassionate. Cows love you. You’ve experienced what it’s like to be an outsider and now you can sympathise with the voiceless. I know you don’t really have the luxury of not being socially aware.

Don’t even think about explaining where you get your protein. I don’t care. I trust you know your body.

I don’t care if you slip up. Every little bit helps.

Ignore your family, you’re not making a big missed steak.

Whatever your reason, there’s no denying you’re preventing suffering.

On behalf of animals, the planet and your body,

You do tofu, boo.

This week, we’re celebrating the freedom to love who we want to love (which we should be doing everyday). Now, you may remember the last film analysis of “The Neon Demon”. In this piece I’m going to do a similar thing, but instead talk about the relationship between cinema and the LGBTQ+ community. Props to Jak for recommending the focus for today, because the moment he said to watch “Love, Simon '' I had already opened Disney+. I’ll also be talking about the 90s documentary “Paris Is Burning”, so buckle up, because I have a lot to unpack here.

I’ll start off by talking about the beautiful coming-of-age story that starred a straight twenty-something year old man as a gay teenager. Well, there’s the first problem. I will admit I did thoroughly enjoy this movie, but I’m trying to be as unbiased as possible. And I know that films are all about acting, but shouldn’t they be about inclusivity too? And yes, the actor that played his love interest is part of this beautiful community, so the film did something right. I’m going on a bit of a tangent here, sorry. Anyways, maybe I should talk about the good shit in “Love, Simon”. I’ve read many reviews about it, and honestly they’re mostly full of praise. And I understand, because same bro. We’re rooting for Simon, because he does deserve love. He’s not just hiding some secret; he’s hiding the person that he truly is out of fear. Nobody should ever have to experience that, and yet they do because of fucked up world we live in where all aspects of freedom will never actually exist. I’ve never had to experience that, but according to many people, this movie helped them. Some wished it came out during the time they were having the same struggle, and others think that it’s a perfect depiction of the utter hell people have to face just because other people won’t accept them. How fucked is that? I do think that some of the world has come a long way, but why did it take so long??

Bloody hell I get off track a lot. Lol. Ew, why did I type that? Anyway… I personally think that “Love, Simon” does a pretty incredible job on educating people about how shit life can be. It’s a good step for the relationship between LGBTQ+ community and cinema. If I am wrong, please speak up. Maybe I wasn’t the best person to write about this and I should eat my words about inclusivity…

But I’m going to continue because it’s kinda my job. Next, we have “Paris Is Burning”. I one hundred percent thought this was actually going to be about Paris; the audacity of my few brain cells. This documentary glimpses into the New York drag and ball subculture during the 1980s, and discusses the utter madness people of the LGBTQ+ community were forced to endure. Before I actually started this, I have to say that one of the best things about it is the fact that it’s a documentary; it’s full of real stories, and real experiences. So let’s get into it then, yeah?

This documentary is so damn powerful. The truth is ugly, and it’s worse when you know that the stuff that happened decades ago still occurs today. Sure, there’s been some progress, but ultimately the world is still pretty shit. What I think is amazing about projects like this is that they’re real; it’s a recommended watch, because it gives you an understanding and insight into the lives of people who, unfortunately, were not accepted by their families and the rest of society. Between “Paris Is Burning” and “Love, Simon'', you can see the changes in entertainment and how the LGBTQ+ community is finally becoming more and more accepted. To be given a voice is one thing, but to be accepted is a whole new ordeal. I think that at this point in time, if you’re not an ally then there’s no excuse.

There is so much material to educate yourself, to understand that there are so many people who struggle with their own identity because a lot of the time, humanity aint shit.

" To be given a voice is one thing, but to be accepted is a whole new ordeal. "