NZ Herald editor-at-large Shayne Currie has been on a two-week road trip to gauge the mood of the nation and meet everyday and notable Kiwis making a difference in their communities and wider world. Today, the final Nine Questions With... segment features mental health advocate Mike King.
What’s the one word to sum up your mood right now?
In a word? Hopeful. It’s clear New Zealand has changed a lot recently. There’s this growing sense that we’re putting people in boxes based on their beliefs or affiliations. More and more, it feels like we’re in our own bubbles, hearing only what we want to hear.
But even with all that, I’m optimistic. I think there’s always a chance for understanding and unity. It’s my hope that New Zealanders can embrace diverse opinions, find common ground and remember the power of true community.
What do you wish people knew about where you live?
Living in South Auckland, people often see us through the lens of media - a portrayal that suggests we are unemployable, drug-dealing gang members. This narrative doesn’t represent us as a community, and it gives a negative skew to our reality.
We have incredible diversity and a generous spirit of caring in our tight-knit community. We live in a place where different cultures come together, bringing a mix of traditions and values. It’s a community where people support each other and where cultural richness adds value, not just for us, but for all of New Zealand. Up the Wahs!
What are you passionate about?
My passion is to continue driving positive societal attitudinal change in the way people think, act and feel about mental health. After more than 10 years of speaking in schools and listening to over 250,000 kids, I’ve learned some valuable insights. For instance, approximately 40 per cent of kids experience major crises, often associated with suicidal thoughts, before they even leave school. While this statistic may be alarming to many, it’s not the most concerning part. What truly troubles me is that 80 per cent of these kids carrying suicidal thoughts never reach out and ask for help - ever.
Why? Because they fear how society will react, what it will say, and what it will do if they confide in someone. Until societal attitudes change, nothing will change.
The current messaging, “reach out and ask for help”, needs a fundamental shift. Why should we place the burden on our most vulnerable to “reach out to society for help” when society itself is their biggest fear? It’s like telling someone who’s afraid of sharks to swim in shark-infested waters and hope a dolphin might come along. It doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t the message be, “What are we all doing to make it easier for young people to reach out and ask for help?”
Which New Zealander (alive or dead) do you most admire – and why?
The New Zealander I most admire is Billy T. James, a man I had the privilege of meeting and working with in the 1970s when I was an apprentice chef at a cabaret and Billy was our headline act. What made Billy so exceptional was his remarkable knack for making people laugh and bringing them together. He had this incredible talent to use humour in a way that could connect with everyone, no matter where they came from or what their background was.
Imagine sitting in a room full of people from all walks of life – some Māori, some not, some young, some old – and Billy would step on stage and start cracking jokes. It was like magic; everyone would burst into laughter. He had this way of making the everyday things we all go through, like funny family moments or little mishaps, seem hilarious. An incredible man and cultural icon.
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
I love this question, because there is no such thing as perfect happiness, and constantly striving for it and talking about it is having a devastating effect on our kids’ mental health. Happiness is the new snake oil, and snake oil salesmen are trying to sell it to you.
This question is about what makes people really, really happy. But there’s a bit of a problem with the idea of “perfect happiness” because it’s kind of like chasing after something that doesn’t really exist. Imagine it’s a bit like someone trying to sell you a magical potion, saying, “If you buy this, it will make you perfectly happy”.
In today’s world, there are lots of messages that tell us we can buy happiness. They make it seem like if you get a fancy car, the latest gadgets or follow certain trends, you’ll be super-happy all the time. But here’s the thing: it doesn’t work that way.
Happiness is a bit like a rollercoaster – it goes up and down. Sometimes you feel really happy, and other times, you don’t. And that’s okay; it’s part of being human.
The problem is when people keep chasing this idea of being “perfectly happy” all the time. It can actually make them feel worse about themselves because they can’t reach this impossible standard. This especially affects young people who feel pressured to be happy all the time, and that can lead to feeling stressed or sad.
So, instead of aiming for “perfect happiness”, it’s better to think of happiness as something you find along the way in your life journey. It’s about enjoying the good moments, accepting the tough ones, and not getting tricked by those who promise a quick fix for happiness. Remember, it’s okay not to be happy all the time – that’s just part of being human.
What is your greatest fear?
My biggest fear is letting people down. Since childhood, I’ve struggled with low self-esteem. As a kid, I always felt like I wasn’t good enough, and other kids were better than me. They were faster, stronger academically, and more gifted than I was, so I was constantly trying to prove myself. My ultimate goal was fame because in my mind, famous people were universally loved, and I believed achieving fame would make me love myself. This belief influenced my behaviour and decision-making, turning me into a prolific starter of projects but a poor finisher. The moment I realised I couldn’t be the best at something, I’d quit. I didn’t see the point in settling for mediocrity.
Then, at the age of 8, I stumbled upon comedy. A friend of mine told a joke that fell flat, and he faced mockery and demands to repeat it for more ridicule. I decided to step in and tell the same joke. This time, everyone laughed, and I immediately associated making people laugh with being liked. That marked the beginning of my comedy career, but it also marked the beginning of my downfall, because that was when I started getting my self-esteem from the approval of others.
I became a people-pleaser, doing anything for approval. If someone asked me to do something, I’d oblige because I couldn’t bear the thought of rejection. While I now understand that true self-esteem doesn’t come from seeking validation from others, I still struggle with this need to please everyone, and find it challenging to say ‘no’. It’s something I’ll continue to work on, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever fully overcome it.
What is it that you most dislike?
When I was younger, my list of dislikes would have filled pages. But now, I strive to find the silver lining in everything, and instead of focusing on the negative, I try to find the lessons in the disappointments. That said, one thing that really gets under my skin is when someone passes off a task. You know, when you ask someone to do something, and instead of doing it themselves, they delegate it to someone else. This often leads to miscommunication, and the task doesn’t get completed as intended. My usual response to people who do this is consistent: “If I wanted them to do that, I would’ve asked them myself.”
What’s on your bucket list?
My primary goal is to live another 10 years and witness my youngest daughter’s 21st birthday. I’ve faced numerous health challenges, from strokes to heart procedures and motorcycle crashes, and it feels like I’ve already used up eight of my nine lives. So, my focus now is on reaching that 21st birthday milestone, which is a decade away.
What do you hope/think NZ will look like in 10 years?
I began with this idea, and I’ll conclude with it: my hope is for a more united and cohesive society. I’ve never witnessed our beautiful country more divided than it is now, and it’s disheartening. It seems that we have lost our connection to humanity, leading us to judge one another based on surface-level differences instead of seeking to understand each other’s perspectives.
The recent election serves as a stark illustration of this division, with people from all sides hurling accusations and failing to truly listen to one another. It’s evident to me that people feel unheard by those in power because in everyday conversations, we increasingly hear sighs of resignation, with people saying, “Well, what can you do?”
When we feel like our voice is lost, we tend to gravitate toward like-minded individuals who share our views. This creates echo chambers where we continually hear the same opinions. We’re pushed to view those with differing perspectives as adversarial. We’re no longer exposed to a range of viewpoints, which means we miss the chance to empathise with and appreciate other people’s journeys.
Unless we actively work to understand one another and prioritise unity over division in the years ahead, the consequences for the next generation could be devastating.