From Why me? to Try me

By Curtis Weeks

My name is Curtis Weeks. I am a man of mixed race, who embraces being Māori. I grew up on the North Shore of Auckland, New Zealand. Growing up as a half-caste meant I got the best and the worst of both worlds. Living on the Shore was beautiful; it was a very diverse lifestyle. Being surrounded by many different cultures was amazing because I was exposed to varied cultures and religions from a young age. One of the downfalls, however, was the level of racism we were all exposed to as children.
As a child, as well as racism, I experienced discrimination, bullying, and many other hateful things that children shouldn't have to endure.
I have written this book to give readers an insight into only one story of the many that can be told. My story is very tame compared to others I have witnessed and heard. However, I feel if people read this book and listen to my life experiences, they may be encouraged to speak up about their pain. This is my story and it is dedicated to all the children, teenagers, and adults out there who think they're alone, outcasts, or misfits.
This is a self-help story about how I tried to build myself up and was knocked down numerous times. It's a story about managing to brush myself off and get back up, no matter how sad it made me, how angry I grew, or how many dark paths I ventured down. No matter what life threw at me, I was able to regain my feet and get back up.
Over time, I was able to build what I think is now a strong character, and I think this character has been created to help others, especially those who are like I once was. I had a bad victim mentality at first but managed to understand how leadership works and now I have become a leader for those around me.
Instead of thinking, "Why me?" I now think, "Try me!"
This book is about my perspective on my life, formed while growing through testing times, and about putting on masks to conform with the masses. It outlines my perspective on how to adjust the mindset over time in small shifts that lead to a greater mental shift. When I was growing up, I got good at adapting to the situation in which I found myself and learned to blend in with the crowd to protect myself from predators, embarrassment, and judgement. I found myself putting on an invisibility mask so I could hide in plain sight to avoid conflict. For a long time, I played the victim.
I viewed the world pessimistically and saw only the negative in everything. Doubt and fear ruled my life. I internally questioned everything: "Why is this happening to me? Why do these people enjoy embarrassing me? Why are they humiliating me? Why do they think they're better than me? Why do they want to fight me? Why me?"
This mindset trapped me within myself and prevented me from achieving anything. I was too busy thinking about the 'what ifs' and not focusing on what was real. At the age of 17, I had had enough and decided to recreate myself by joining the Royal New Zealand Navy where I started to adopt the mindset of "Try me!" Doing that was hard and I shifted from one extreme to the other. It became a balancing act and a journey of self-discovery

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780473548476

Book preview

From Why Me? to Try Me

© Curtis Weeks 2020

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-0-473-54847-6

eBook conversion by PublishMe: www.publishme.co.nz

Contents

Words from the author

Glossary

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Photos

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

In any given situation, instead of saying Why me? change the mindset up to Try me! The harder the challenge the more satisfying the outcome. Heaps of people adopt a victim mentality in many situations, surrendering to an obstacle before they even attempt to overcome it. Rather than submitting prematurely, give it a go. If you don’t achieve what you want, at least you will know you had the courage to face the uncomfortable circumstances of the unknown.

– Curtis Weeks.

Words from the author

My name is Curtis Weeks. I am a man of mixed race, who embraces being Māori. I grew up on the North Shore of Auckland, New Zealand. Growing up as a half-caste meant I got the best and the worst of both worlds. Living on the Shore was beautiful; it was a very diverse lifestyle. Being surrounded by many different cultures was amazing because I was exposed to varied cultures and religions from a young age. One of the downfalls, however, was the level of racism we were all exposed to as children.

As a child, as well as racism, I experienced discrimination, bullying, and many other hateful things that children shouldn’t have to endure.

I have written this book to give readers an insight into only one story of the many that can be told. My story is very tame compared to others I have witnessed and heard. However, I feel if people read this book and listen to my life experiences, they may be encouraged to speak up about their pain. This is my story and it is dedicated to all the children, teenagers, and adults out there who think they’re alone, outcasts, or misfits.

This is a self-help story about how I tried to build myself up and was knocked down numerous times. It’s a story about managing to brush myself off and get back up, no matter how sad it made me, how angry I grew, or how many dark paths I ventured down. No matter what life threw at me, I was able to regain my feet and get back up.

Over time, I was able to build what I think is now a strong character, and I think this character has been created to help others, especially those who are like I once was. I had a bad victim mentality at first but managed to understand how leadership works and now I have become a leader for those around me.

Instead of thinking, Why me? I now think, Try me!

This book is about my perspective on my life, formed while growing through testing times, and about putting on masks to conform with the masses. It outlines my perspective on how to adjust the mindset over time in small shifts that lead to a greater mental shift. When I was growing up, I got good at adapting to the situation in which I found myself and learned to blend in with the crowd to protect myself from predators, embarrassment, and judgement. I found myself putting on an invisibility mask so I could hide in plain sight to avoid conflict. For a long time, I played the victim.

I viewed the world pessimistically and saw only the negative in everything. Doubt and fear ruled my life. I internally questioned everything: Why is this happening to me? Why do these people enjoy embarrassing me? Why are they humiliating me? Why do they think they’re better than me? Why do they want to fight me? Why me?

This mindset trapped me within myself and prevented me from achieving anything. I was too busy thinking about the ‘what ifs’ and not focusing on what was real. At the age of 17, I had had enough and decided to recreate myself by joining the Royal New Zealand Navy where I started to adopt the mindset of Try me! Doing that was hard and I shifted from one extreme to the other. It became a balancing act and a journey of self-discovery.

Glossary

During your reading of this book, you may come across some Kiwi slang. Hopefully, this glossary will help you understand some of the things I am saying.

Kina: the Māori word for sea urchin.

Kaimoana: the Māori word for seafood.

Pipi: a type of seafood, a bivalve mollusc (mesodesma novae-zelandiae) used as food in New Zealand.

Eah: this is slang used by some Māori people. It comes from e hoa which means ‘my friend.’ Someone may say, Is that us, eah meaning, Shall we do that, my friend?

Cunt: here in New Zealand we throw this word around a lot. If someone were to say, He’s a good cunt it would translate as, He’s a good person.

Chur: this has many uses in New Zealand. It could be used to say hello, goodbye, that’s amazing, I’m not too sure, plus a number of other things, the pitch in which you say it giving it different meanings. Pretty funny, but once you understand it, it can be used for anything. Chur.

Scrap: a fight.

Gutted: being devastated.

Stoned: the buzz from smoking marijuana.

Tikanga Māori: this is the term to describe Māori procedures. Our culture is very beautiful and complex, and this refers to the principles of how we do things.

Manaakitanga: to help and to share with others.

Kohanga reo: a pre-schooling system where only te reo Māori is spoken. This is where you further learn about tikanga Māori, manaakitanga and Māori mythology. 

Kura kaupapa: a school system where only te reo Māori is spoken. Here you also learn about tikanga Māori, manaakitanga and Māori mythology, as well as maths and sciences.

Kapa haka: is the term for Māori performing arts and literally means ‘group’ and ‘dance’. Kapa haka is an avenue for Māori people to express and showcase their heritage and cultural Polynesian identity through song and dance. 

Taiaha: a taiaha is a traditional Māori weapon. It is a close-quarters staff-like weapon made from either wood or whalebone, and is used in short, sharp strikes or stabbing thrusts with efficient footwork. Taiaha are usually about five or six feet long.

Rough as guts: an expression used to describe a person who is more rugged than the rough people.

Growling: being told off.

Lollies: our word for candy or sweets.

Learning the bracket: this is a reference with regard to kapa haka. Learning the bracket means that you will learn the entire performance.

Bei: slang that originates from the east coast of the North Island. It’s pretty much another word for ‘bro.’

Rarking: excessive and rapid consumption of alcohol and occasionally drugs. It’s an unnecessary way to drink alcohol.

Alongside: Navy terminology for being in a new port or tied up ‘alongside’ the wharf.

Sook: this is a term for someone who is being a cry baby.

Salty dits: Navy terminology for stories from the past or at sea.

The Puss: this is a nickname for the Navy.

Dairy: a corner shop

Durry: a cigarette

Dedicated to . . .

The following are the lyrics to the song Dedicated To by the band Home Brew. I feel this song had a big part to play in my life and it puts me in mind of those I want to help. This book is…

Dedicated to . . .

"[Verse 1: Tom Scott]

It’s dedicated to all the artists who struggling

Through the hardship and punishment

From the heart for the love of it

It’s motivated by all they partners who stuck with them

And help them pick it up again when they were thinking fuck it then

It’s been inspired by all the marvellous mothers and all the fatherless troublesome broken bastards that bum off them

It’s for the hustlers scabbing off of the government

Wandering in the street playing cricket with the rubbish bin

It’s for the lonely nerd rolling herb on his broken turntable

That he mixes beats on that no one’s heard

It’s for the bony bird spitting spoken word blowing dough on phoney fur

Rocking headphones that only work in one side

For the unsigned drunk guy who never let the funk die

Working like he’s done by

(hard)

It’s for the Sheila with the bung eye

And too much pride to let her son see his mum cry

(real)

It’s for the has beens who had dreams

The fuck ups and crack fiends

The drop outs and drag queens

It’s for the last kid picked

The first picked on

The one they laugh at

Opposite from a sitcom

It’s for the fat kid

The misfit rat kid

The lipstick black chick that no one ever sat with

Dirt broke brat kid that never really had shit

Rat back scab eating noodles out the packet

It’s dedicated to the skater kids chucking rocks

Taggers cutting locks

Stoners huffing NOS

Fuck the cops and the rugby jocks

Fuck my boss and the goodie-goodie prefects sucking cocks

For the fellas that I sit up in detention with and anyone that’s

Ever had their name up on the attendance list

It’s for every kid that ever thought of ending it

And every piss poor bum living on a benefit

[Hook]

This one goes out

This one goes goes goes out to you (it’s dedicated to)

This one goes out this this one goes goes out to you (it’s dedicated to)

This one goes out this this one goes goes out to you (it’s dedicated to)

(turntable scratching)

[Verse 2: Tom Scott]

This for the open arms the prisoners holding bars

Watching life rolling past faster than stolen cars

For fiends trying find a fix for their broken hearts

Rolling grass while they wash their hands of time toke their chance

For the stoners laughs that we shared over Nas

Full blast on my arse sitting in my bro’s garage

Going halves on a cask making moments last

Wishing we could hold the past frozen like it’s golden stars

For the days gone

The days made on

The cardboard we breaked on with blue puma suede’s on

It’s for the boom-box 2Pac played on

The same one I chewed up my Snoop Dogg tape on

This is for 94

When I had the highest score running new street fighter with the double fire ball

This for the change that I spent on a giant jaw

Breaker and the pocket money that I used to buy the Source

It’s for the rap fanatics

The Illmatic addicts

Racking stacks of classic wax and baggy jackets

Backpackers on the train tracks tagging backwards

From the back of Mathematics to the back of paddy wagons

This for when I rapped the plastic of fantastic

And when I first heard fat lip on labcabin

That magic

I felt when I sat in my bomb that I boom saw them play a list of Cadillacs to

This for back then the back-seat dirt I did

Permanent scars are left on hearts of birds I hit

It’s for the bridge burning with the first herb I lit

For my worst hurt I turn to the best verse I spit

It’s for the world turning as well all turn to shit

Predetermined ill return it to it no alternative

Getting high killing time like murderers

This is life peace to the cell-mates I serve it with

This is dedicated to (you)

This is dedicated to (you)

This is dedicated to (you)

This is dedicated to (you)

This one goes goes goes out to you"

Home Brew.

Every time you pick up this book to have a read, I would like you to do a short breathing exercise first. 

Stand up, close your eyes, rotate your shoulders back and puff out your chest. Put a silly big smile on your face. Take 10 deep breaths in through the nose and exhale through the mouth.

Breathe in one count, hold for four counts and exhale for two counts. What this means is you’re breathing in for three seconds, holding for 12 seconds, exhaling for six seconds. Between each repetition, you can breathe normally if you find you’re struggling.

Do this exercise whenever you’re about to read this book and enjoy the benefits. 

– Curtis

Strength and growth come only through continuous effort and struggle.

– Napoleon Hill

Chapter 1

Iwas born at North Shore Hospital in Auckland City on Thursday 8 March 1990. My parents were married and were a hard-working, middle-class couple. My mother worked for New Zealand Post, and my father was a Chief Petty Officer serving in the Royal New Zealand Navy. Following my arrival into this new world, people would often say I was a special kid, that I had an old soul, or that there was something different about me. I always believed I was special, but I never knew what my gift was.

The old man told me one of his favourite memories of me was when I was a day or two old. A nurse was changing my nappy and as she came in to interact with me, I managed to piss into her pocket. This startled the lovely lady and as she leaned back to get away from the urine, I managed to conjure a projectile shit which hit her right in the stomach. The old man said I cracked up after doing that to the poor girl and from that moment in time he knew I was a fun, cheeky, mischievous kid.

For the first few years of life, I grew up in Navy housing. These houses are exactly like state houses. They were built on strong bones but were hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. They had massive quarter-acre sections of grass, where my imagination would run wild. I remember running around outside and playing in the paddling pool naked during the summertime. The community was quite close because everyone else in the street also served in the Navy. The kids would run from house to house, playing in everyone’s back yard. The parents would ring one another to let the kids’ parents know their offspring’s whereabouts. The best memories I have of these times is when we lived down the end of a cul de sac, where I guess it was safer for us kids to run free. When my little brother came along, I remember him tagging along, as well. Those days were so good!

The neighbours looked after me a fair bit when my parents went out. I referred to most of the neighbours’ kids’ parents as Uncle and Aunty. Each household had something different that I liked. I remember that one of the families had a Sega Megadrive and a trampoline. That was by far my favourite house at which to play. The kids were a little bit older than me, but they treated my younger brother and me like we were their little cousins.

One of my favourite memories from that time was when the Michael Jackson Thriller video came out. It was like a full-on movie, and we set the bedroom up like it was a part of the movie. We shifted the bunk beds around and had a fan going on full blast with the lights off. We would pretend to jump out of the helicopter as it circled the Michael Jackson statue. It was so much fun, and many great memories were made with that family.

During these times I was going to Kohanga reo which was, if you don’t know, a daycare for Māori children, where we would only speak our native tongue. My parents always worked funky hours, so I remember being dropped off at the Kohanga pretty early and then going home with one of the teachers: once Kohanga was finished we would walk to her house. Her son and I were the same age, so it was good to have a friend I could play with. The teacher lived in state housing and it wasn’t too far from the Kohanga, so not much of a walk for us. I loved it at their house because her son had lots of marbles that we’d play with and they even had some turtles that we would stare at for hours.

The one thing I hated about going to their house was their neighbour. He was a few years older and rough as guts. He had a dog and would get it to chase me and give it orders to attack me. Whenever he got a chance, he would kick me, punch me, spit on me. I remember that one day he cornered me, got his dog to growl at me, and that boy pissed on me. This was the first time I had experienced helplessness – I was only four years old. I don’t know where everyone else was, but I just froze from utter fear. I have never shared that story with anyone until now.

That was my first memory of freezing. My mind couldn’t compute what had just happened. I felt scared, insecure, and helpless. I didn’t tell the teacher what had happened, or my parents, but I remember crying at night in my bed. I remember crying not because I was sad – I was crying from anger. The only thought I had at that moment was Why me? Why did this kid do those bad things to me? Who knows? All I know is that he made me feel something I had never felt before, an emotion that I hated. I hated the feeling, the smell, the thought, the sight of the boy, and I hated him. Could I have done something about it? Of course, I could, but did I? No. I was afraid. I felt isolated and weak. Why me?

Looking back, there were a number of things I could have done in that situation. I could have screamed for help. I could have told an adult immediately after it happened. I could have tried to run away. I could have tried to fight the kid. However, I chose to do nothing. I was only a child, and all this was new to me. Afterwards, I had only focused on the what-ifs, and not the reality. I was worried that if I had tried to run, his dog would maul me. If I had tried to scream for help, he would have beaten me up. Had I tried to fight back, he would have overpowered me and had his way, like on another occasion, when he pinned me down and spat on my forehead.

See, there’s a part of the autonomic nervous system called the sympathetic nervous system. This system triggers the fight or flight response which provides our bodies with the necessary chemicals, hormones, and energy to either fight our way out of a situation or run away from the threat. These are what we needed to survive in the Dark Ages. There is also another function where you simply freeze and, unfortunately, it was this function with which I was blessed. This is where a threat presents itself and instead of fighting or fleeing you become engulfed by absolute doubt and fear. During this moment in time, you are frozen, like in a nightmare where you try to run away but you can’t because you feel like someone has paused you.

So, how do you overcome the functions of fight, flight, or freeze? You must take action! You can’t freeze since this can mean life or death. You either fight your heart out, or you run as you’ve never run before. You have to conjure up the courage to do one or the other and never let fear take over. However, in this situation, I froze, and the consequences were humiliating. I was just an innocent kid trying to play outside in the sunshine. After that event, I no longer enjoyed going home with that teacher. When I was there from then on, I just sat in the house, playing. We would get told to play outside, but I would look outside and see the neighbour in his garden. I would hide in the corner of the room and make up some bullshit, saying I didn’t want to play outside, or I felt unwell but, in all honesty, I was petrified to even set foot on the back doorstep. Every time I went over to their house I would be thinking Why me? in the back of my mind.

Kohanga wasn’t all doom and gloom, though. I still had my friends and if they weren’t my friend, I would somehow manage to become friends with them. There was a certain something about me: I could relate to the other kids and I was able to play with everyone. Most of us kids were Navy brats, so we would see each other outside of Kohanga, visiting each other’s houses, or staying the night. We always referred to each other as cousins. We were all pretty close, thanks to having a similar upbringing. Our fathers were always away, and Mum had to look after us, all of us living in Navy housing. Māori do a lot of things well, and one is that we’re able to come together, show much love, and help each other. We raise our kids in a community because, as they say, it takes a village to raise a child, the way our ancestors brought up their families.

I am grateful for the upbringing I had. We always had our support groups in the city. People could go from being a bunch of strangers to becoming part of the family through our common struggle. This included our loved ones going to sea or heading overseas for courses. I didn’t have the pleasure of growing up in the country, and when you look at the Māori culture as a whole, it is based on living off the land, which is primarily done in the countryside. So, growing up in the city had its pros and cons. For a lot of my life, I struggled with my identification and who I was, who I wanted to be, or who I should be. Being a young Māori male in Auckland city was not easy and I am grateful for the support network we had growing up.

I was very fortunate as a kid that my mum was from Gisborne since this would be my escape from the city. Every year we would make the trip down to Gisborne, Mahia, and sometimes Whangara to see our whānau, usually for the Christmas holidays, and it was always so refreshing to catch up with all my cousins. I was the youngest of the older cousins, which wasn’t a bad thing. Being around my cousins gave me a blueprint of how I should be acting when I returned to the city. I would mimic their mannerisms and slang. I had a cousin who was almost exactly one year older than me, and he was my best mate. We would play for hours on end exploring the gardens, playing backyard cricket and rugby. He was better than me at everything. We were just two innocent kids loving life and eating dirt pies.

The tiny seed knew that, in order to grow, it needed to be dropped in dirt, covered with darkness, and struggle to reach the light.

– Sandra Kring

Chapter 2

As I grew older, my parents had to decide whether I continued to learn te reo or whether they should enrol me in the mainstream system. They chose to send me to Te kura kaupapa o te Rakipaiwhenua. This school was fully immersed in the Māori world (te ao Māori) and at that time was located at Hato Petara College. It was a school where the kids were aged between five and 13. Once the boys were old enough, they’d transition to Hato Petara, which was a Māori boarding school.

Kura was good, I enjoyed it. It was based on a pretty old school way of instruction. This was where I learned how to be a man as a Māori. It was a little bit difficult for me