Merivale School principal Tom Paekau with student Oscar Frost, 9. Photo / George Novak
When Tom Paekau was made the principal of Merivale School, he knew he had to engage the community to make a change. Three years in, he's grown the roll and implemented measures that are having positive spin-offs for the Western Bay of Plenty's only decile 1A school.
Grinds, slides, and aerials. It's what a group of fearless kids on skateboards are learning during class time.
Boys carrying school-owned skateboards pass jandal-wearing principal Tom Paekau "Matua Tom" in the playground and beam at him like it's Christmas. Fridays are Jandal Day at "The Vale".
And kids dream big at Friday afternoon "passion hour" where they're taught everything from landing their first ollie on the school tennis court to surfing at the Mount, and how to cook beef nachos.
Passion hour is one of several unique things that Paekau has implemented since he became principal here three years ago, taking over from Jan Tinetti who was at the helm for 11 years before being elected as a Labour List MP.
Starting afresh meant making his own mark and that's meant unconventional changes.
At the end of 2018, he switched to a 9.20am to 2.50pm school day, still maintaining the same instruction time but shortening breaks. In doing so, he curbed their problem with lateness. Attendance is also up.
This year, Merivale's starting roll is the biggest it's been since 2009 with 150 students (they are capped at 181); and they've gone from six applicants for a teaching position in 2017 to 60 when the last position was advertised in 2019, as word spreads of their blossoming culture.
"It's got the same feeling as my previous school which was decile 7," Paekau says of the decile system which determines funding based on the socio-economic status of the areas where students live (Merivale, which is decile 1A, is the lowest).
It will be scrapped by 2021 or 2022 in favour of a new Government "equity index" allocating more funds for children with risk factors, regardless of the status of their area.
An experienced educator, he had his own thoughts about taking on the Merivale job, and others did too.
Sitting outside the Four Square in Papamoa in 2017, a friend saw him and stopped for a catch-up.
When Paekau told him about his new appointment, the friend raised his eyebrows: "Oh ****, that's gonna be tough."
"That's the reason I'm going there," he told him. "Because we need to change the attitude about the place."
The Vale as it's known by its families - many of whom are Kainga Ora (formerly Housing New Zealand) tenants - has its challenges but then so do a lot of schools.
"Stuff that I've dealt with here, I've dealt with before, but it can be on a larger scale.
"We've built a level of expectation amongst the kids, amongst the staff, among the whānau and the community now.
"This is our standard, this is where we want to be, and that's the dream."
Friend and mentor Dene Langley, former principal of Arataki School, says Paekau has made some "really, progressive change".
"The school was doing well before he arrived but he's made different changes.
"He's got a great personality, drive, and vision. He's taken the community and embraced the community within the school, creating a really family-based environment.
"There's no negativity that these are 'poor kids'. He said 'let's make Merivale School and our Merivale community a school of choice' ... He's doing some wonderful work there and embraced what the parents want, what the board of trustees want and the kids want."
There's no negativity that these are 'poor kids'. He said 'let's make Merivale School and our Merivale community a school of choice'... He's doing some wonderful work.
Paekau spent nine years as principal of Rangiuru School, as well as teaching at Te Puke Intermediate and Northland's Aranga School before coming to The Vale.
He grew up the baby of three kids to a solo mum in small-town Otorohanga.
His mum worked as a primary school teacher, later retraining in early childhood education, and five of his other whānau members are teachers.
With solid support and a bloodline of educators, he was always headed in the right direction, he says, but as a child in the 1980s, his best friend's dad was the president of the King Country Mongrel Mob and he saw both sides of the divide.
The challenge when there is a divide is to make sure that no one feels separated, so Merivale School's charter, which sets the direction for the school, is "know our place first".
There has been a recent school-wide focus of the area in which Merivale lies,
Tutarawananga, which historically was the first place of learning for Tauranga iwi.
Staff from Merivale, local early childhood centres and the Ministry of Education, boarded a bus at the start of the year and a kaumātua took them on a guided history tour.
Knowledge gained has been used for inquiry learning, a form of active learning that starts by posing questions, problems or scenarios. Some students are currently designing waka.
"The kids are loving it and it's really giving them that identity of being Merivale School students," Paekau says, explaining that 71 per cent of his students are Māori but don't all affiliate with Tauranga iwi.
"Although there's a big placement on our iwi, it's 100 per cent everybody is connected to this school.
"We want that for all our students, not just the Māori kids.
"There's an old adage that goes: 'What's good for Māori is good for everybody'."
Over the last year-and-a-half, Paekau has also successfully transitioned his school into a new, better-quality uniform, despite initial opposition over cost, and changed the school hours with amazing results.
The school gate opens at 8am to accommodate those who want to come earlier than the 9.20am bell (teachers have their staff meetings prior) but children must go to a compulsory Kickstart/Kids Can-sponsored breakfast club before music is played on the tennis court, the library is opened by a teacher aide, and a supervised game of sport is run in the action centre, co-owned by the council.
Ask Paekau how the changes are going and it's evident from his grin.
"Oh man, can I say something that's really awesome?
"This year has been the best year that we've had for attendance."
Every Monday is house competition day and if students make it to school, they get a point for their house, and then in the afternoon, they compete in sports.
"That's boosted our Monday numbers.
"On a Friday, which has historically been a day where the three-day weekend kicks in for some, we've got 100 per cent attendance in our two (total immersion Māori) rumaki today."
In conjunction with their localised curriculum, they also do a "passion hour" on Friday where staff choose what they want to teach based on their passions.
Teacher Darren Kiwi used to be on the professional circuit for surfing and takes nine kids over to the Mount to surf with eight school-owned surfboards, packed into the school van and a car driven by a helper.
Their kapa haka teacher tutors tennis; one of their teen teacher aides teaches skateboarding; and the sports co-ordinator, a former chef, takes a guided cooking class.
There's also coding, art, drama and music.
"It's all stuff to hook kids in," Paekau says, adding that Tuesday is Pacifica day, and the whole school participates in kapa haka on Wednesday.
"What we've found is that the focus of numeracy and literacy happens in the mornings but in the afternoons our kids need something else to trigger them and really engage them."
They also run their own after school programme three days a week.
Ask Paekau what the biggest problem is facing the community and he says inequality for some and safety.
The school, kindergarten, kohanga reo, police and community centre meet monthly for community consultation.
"But hey, it's not just limited to our school.
"The message that we sent out to the kids: 'If you see something that you're worried about let an adult know and make sure that you're safe'.
"And no word of a lie, these kids have seen some stuff that you or I may or may not have seen before. In every school, there's pockets of kids like that.
"Our staff are more engaged than what you imagine a typical teacher's life to be ... I've got teacher aides that are going and visiting households with kids.
"If you decide to work here, you've decided to come here because you want to be invested. All of my staff are here because they want to be here."
Paekau, who has four children with wife, Janelle, is also a dad of sorts to his students.
Asked if he's a tough principal, he jokes: "They know not to push my buttons.
"Nobody ever wants to be growled by me, but they love cuddles.
"It's very rare that I (don't) walk out onto the playground and hug a kid because all our kids need it.
"We get them in there and pump them up ... We need to lift the roof off and give them the opportunity to do whatever they want.
"We've got quite a large male contingent now so there's lots of dad figures here or big brother figures because we've got two young teacher aides - one's 18 and one's 19."
The school also has private supporters and funders who he appreciates don't do it for self-promotion.
A few Christmases ago a van load of students wearing reindeer ears, arrived unannounced from another school, and began handing out biscuits and used toys to a junior class working outside, whilst photographing them.
"Good intentions," says Paekau but they missed the mark.
Likewise, they've had unwanted clothing and "junk" dropped off as though they're an opportunity shop.
"Stationery? We'll take it. I've had people walk out of the office and be like 'what a prick' about me.
"Being the gatekeeper, you have to be the person who protects these kids. I just won't wear it."
I've had people walk out of the office and be like 'what a prick' about me. Being the gatekeeper, you have to be the person who protects these kids. I just won't wear it.
Most of their families, like all schools, are awesome, staunchly supportive and loving.
"We're pretty lucky that we've got people that look out for us and I'm not afraid to put stuff on Facebook when things are not right," he says, giving the example of vandalism. "I've named and shamed a few fellas."
Two mornings a week, Paekau swims at the Greerton Aquatic Centre to clear his mind for the day ahead. Thursday nights he plays touch rugby in Pāpāmoa and Sunday nights, tennis with a group of principal friends.
He also plays the guitar and does a few vocals in the band Left Hand Break, which is booked out most weekends for gigs and weddings.
They're so popular they've had to schedule breaks.
"Sometimes it's stress on stress," he says of his second job, which is not always a stress relief.
He manages it all because he tries not to get caught up in the little stuff. He comes across as cruisy but likes to be organised.
"We lose quite a few principals to burnout or because of workload."
It can be a hard gig he says, but everything he's done beforehand makes him feel like he was being prepared for this job.
"When you see things in action here, you do realise that everything was for a purpose. It's really meaningful.
"This year, in particular, is going off."
The hīkoi is expected to arrive at Parliament around midday.