KEY POINTS:
Although it takes a bit of finding, McGehan Close still manages to sneak up on you.
There's not much to it, a couple of state house compounds in an enclave at the bottom of Triton Ave, under the shadow of Auckland's Mt Albert. The street, like those surrounding
it, is part of new-look New Zealand: a racial melting pot comprising immigrants from Africa, Asia and the Pacific.
The unassuming cul-de-sac was thrust, blinking, into the national consciousness this week when National leader John Key decided McGehan Close epitomised "dead end" New Zealand, where the rungs of the social ladder were missing and "hopelessness has become ingrained".
The self-made millionaire from Parnell told a crowd at Christchurch's Burnside Rugby Club about a lower class New Zealand, where homes were "destroyed by alcohol and P" and "a pizza flyer" qualified as literature.
"I am talking about streets like McGehan Close, in Owairaka, Auckland."
But his speech has been given short shrift by McGehan Close residents.
"That's all shit - there's worse underclass streets than this. There's definitely worse places than this - I lived in Palmy [Palmerston North]," says 27-year-old machine operator Jason Thompson.
"I work and I've got four healthy kids. There's a mix of nationalities around here and all of them want to see their children grow up happy.
"We had a hanging [suicide] here last year but those things happen on any streets, even in rich neighbourhoods."
Gangs have a presence in the street and many youngsters sporting their "colours" use the playground at the top of the road as a hang-out.
And newspaper reporters get the hard word.
Six teenage boys swagger towards the swings and climbing frame.
"Who are you, bro and what are you doing here talking to these people? Are you talking about us ?" asks one youngster, his eyes red and unblinking.
After his questions are answered, he gives his name: "Dope Money Sex."
His real name is Michael.
His breath smells of alcohol and cradled in one arm is a box of beers. He can't be more than 16.
Before long, he loses interest and returns to his mates, who have told him to stop his talking and bring the brews over.
"I don't know if there's an underclass here," says 22-year-old student William Lama.
"We just live normally and we try and do our own thing. Things happen but we try not to get involved."
One person who does get involved is Rae Parkin, principal of nearby Wesley Park School. Although she lives on the North Shore and knows McGehan Close's reputation, she is sold on the neighbourhood.
She says there is a generosity of spirit in the community, and parents, like parents everywhere, still want the best for their kids.
"But they do not have the power of parents in Remuera. That's not their fault, it's just the way it is."
Mr Key's speech has caused some consternation in McGehan Close and more than a little defiance.
"He should come down here and see for himself," says Joan Nathan.
"Our kids are happy and healthy. We all work just like he does, but our salaries are not as fat as his."
It's hard to say whether McGehan Close will ever again be dragged into the political spotlight or whether politicians will ever be dragged into McGehan Close - although Mr Key was expected to visit the street today.
"You only see [local MP] Phil Goff at voting time," says Marie, a 26-year-old hotel worker. "Helen Clark used to come down here but it's not her electorate anymore."
