Well hi, hello, I’m the newest Evil member, but by no means am I anymore well behaved than the others. Bad to the bone, naughty, nasty and just the right amount of sass.

I’ve joined the henchmen and am starting a new gig that should get you evil geniuses thinkin’. You can usually catch me pulling pints, chasing politicians or polishing off a glass (or 7)  of red. I’m going to let loose on you weekly and babble about the ongoings and inner workings of my deliriously, chaotic mind. As an added bonus I’ll source out some top articles to get a little deeper than the headlines on so you have more interesting chat at your coworking morning teas.  

We start this series with a confession ; Yeah, nah – I’m not from Christchurch, nor do I giiiiiiiiive a goddamn fuck about where you went to high school, so WHY is that the first thing that falls out of ya mouth at any social function?

Across New Zealand each place has a question, maybe it’s what do you parents do? Or what gang are you in? (if you’re from Palmerston North like me) etc, but Christchurch loves to play the education card “What school did you go to?”.

Now, while I’m not so old I can’t remember what it was like to stand in the tuck shop line, I AM old enough to not include it on my CV?  Ya feel me?

So my plea is to understand why that’s all you Cantabrians want to know.

When I hear the dreaded question I have to admit I didn’t go to school in Christchurch. The next reaction is on a par with someone trying to hold in a fart – their faces pause as they break apart a little, struggling to work out my social status.

Don’t get me wrong, I love all you black and red Cantabs, but I’ll never understand the schooling obsession. I’ve crafted some generalised stereotypes for you to picture in your head and giggle as you match them up to one of your friends.

  • We get it, your family ‘gifted’ you money; you went to a preppy, upmarket, rich white folk school where all of your friends are successful business owners who vote National and holiday in Fiji with their 2 perfect (naughty) children.
  • You come from humble beginnings ; right, so you struggled to get to where you were, you came from the school of hard knocks. Life has kicked you around, but this rough diamond came up pearly and you want everyone to know what a stand-up guy you are.
  • THE LADS CLUB ;  the brotherhood, you feel safe in the company of fellow alumni, you get on the piss and sing old school songs and infuriate anyone around you, who (like me) doesn’t have a clue what you are doing.
  • The ladies who lunch ; you’re a mum club, the husband’s play rugby in the winter, cricket in the summer. You probably whinge but have nice things.
  • OMG YOU KNOW HER? ; ohhh and the last thing, when you eventually settle on what schools you went you, you’re bound to have a mutual friend to bitch about or commend her impeccable botox

My rash generalisations might not be on the money, but as an outsider looking in I can only guess at the inner workings of your clique.

What I do love about this question, is the solidarity it gives, you craft friendships and share memories and engage with people outside of your ‘circle’.  Maybe our schooling sets us up, and gives up more values than I’m giving credit for.

But the next time you have a pint at the bar, or get a flat white after yoga and are forced to talk to someone new,  I challenge you to go against all the blood flowing in your Cantabrian veins to hold in the blasphemous sentence and ask the man standing next to you anything other than where they were a prefect 30-mumble years ago.