STEREOTYPES

AORAKI POLYTECHNIC JOURNALISM STUDENTS

We all fit into a particular stereotype somehow, whether we're blonde, have tattoos, are young or even are from Waimate. The Aoraki Polytechnic journalism students talk to people who might be judged by such common beliefs.

ACCOUNTANT - Daniel Birchfield 

The accountant. A dull, older gentleman wearing glasses, a grey suit and brown shoes. The stereotype might also have them carrying a tatty old briefcase from the 1950s and quite possibly having a bottle of scotch discreetly tucked away in a drawer for when all those numbers get too much. But maybe, just maybe, these stereotypical views are nothing but relics from a time long since passed.

Craig Copland, director of HC Partners Ltd in Timaru, was born in Waimumu, a small farming district in Southland, to farming parents.

He doesn't fit the stereotype at all. No grey suit, brown shoes or tatty briefcase. There may not even be scotch involved.

Always interested in the financial field, unlike anyone else in his family, Craig began his studies at Otago University in 1988, graduating with degrees in law and commerce in 1992.

"I'm not bothered by it; you have to be able to laugh at yourself," Craig says when asked about the stereotypical views most people have of accountants.

"The only time we get judged is when people think you are from the IRD," he laughs.

Craig is of the belief that people's views of accountants have come not from movies or television shows, but from a little closer to home.

"You don't often see movies with the lead actor playing an accountant.

"I think the long-held stereotype comes from people seeing their parents' accountants," Craig said.

When meeting Craig for the first time, one expects him to be older, a common preconception among people when they first meet their accountant.

"People have said to me, `You're not what I expected.' It's often a first impression."

Most people enjoy a bit of socialising after work on a Friday and actually, so do accountants.

"We like to go to the pub on Friday nights, we have a social committee and do quiz nights, we even play mini golf in the office," Craig says with a grin.

Unlike in other workplaces, the employees go on a work trip every year with their respective partners, to celebrate meeting targets.

"It's a lot of fun. We have been to places like Akaroa and next week we are going to Terrace Downs," Craig said.

As it does in a lot of fields, technology has changed accounting drastically.

"There is less number crunching now than there has been in the past, because of computers, and we now have the ability to work from anywhere. More and more firms are outsourcing overseas."

Craig says this change in technology has also changed how accountants themselves feel about the job.

"We are more like business advisers. A lot of the older guys feel more like marriage counsellors – we deal with more couples now."

Craig says more young people are getting into accounting, helping to further discount the stereotype.

"It's not seen as a dull career any more. A lot go into banking, corporate banking and other corporate roles."

So what does Craig say to people looking at getting into accounting?

"It's a great training ground. Even if you don't stay in the field, it gives you a good base to work from."

DAIRY OWNER - Charley Man 

A stereotypical Kiwi male: hard working, well educated, enjoys sport and OEs in London.

More detail? He has a bachelor degree in software engineering, worked in London for three years as a recruitment consultant and was in charge of a $10 million portfolio in his previous role as a debt collection manager.

On paper, he sounds like a Kiwi, right?

But if you were to meet Vipul Surti at work in his dairy you may instantly stereotype him as a typical Indian immigrant: a dairy owner.

Mr Surti was born in Gujarat in India and immigrated with his family in 2007.

He speaks word-perfect English, with an Indian accent, and works up to 17 hours a day.

After work he plays badminton, boxes and catches up with his friends.

Mr Surti finds that he does get stereotyped sometimes.

When he first moved to New Zealand he worked in a dairy in Christchurch and was stereotyped far more there than in Timaru.

"Timaru people are really good.

"But it's [stereotyping] different for different people.

"People do stare at you, but once they know you then they get on with you.

"Once they know you, it's fine."

Indian shop owners appear in the media mainly because of robberies at their stores.

On May 31, a Christchurch dairy owner fought off a gun-wielding robber with a cardboard display stand.

Mr Surti's father was shot with a slug gun during a robbery at his Church St dairy last year.

He believes that some shop owners fight back not necessarily because they are Indian, but because of the sheer amount of hard work that they put into their business.

"It's the principle of working hard ... I know how hard I work."

Mr Surti is now concentrating on establishing a career in sound engineering.

"My interest is in music.

"We had a group and performed live in India; I played piano and sang a little."

So does the Indian dairy owner stereotype bother him? "It does affect me, but not that much.

"I don't care about that stuff."

STUDENTS - Alana Dixon 

They're drunken hooligans, bludging taxpayer dollars and rorting the system, and what's more, they even get all the good holidays.

They peruse the racks at the Salvation Army for new clothes, complain about struggling through a whole nine hours of class a week, and seem to have money only when they are at the pub. Aoraki Polytechnic student Samantha Glasgow, 19, thinks people have a definite picture in their minds when they think of students.

"Lazy. Young. Poor. The public probably think of uni, and the pub scene, students not doing work and living off the government," she said.

But Samantha, who is part-way through her year-long business course, believes there's more to students than wanting to spend their time partying. "A lot of people do, but a lot of people do go on to get qualifications. I'm interested in accounting, and I'd like to get some qualifications before I go to uni," she said.

That's why she's at polytech. On a typical day, she will spend five hours in class, before tackling the books for around an extra three each night. But she's a student, so doesn't she spend her weekends in an alcohol-fuelled haze?

"When I'm not in class, I'm studying. It doesn't leave much time for anything else." But there were reasons putting in some extra work now was worth it, she said.

Her course covers a wide range of skills needed in the business world, which would give her more options in choosing a career path, she said.

Gaining qualifications was important for getting a good job in the long run, she said.

She had never felt judged after telling people she was a student, but thought other students might leave people with negative first impressions. "I think it probably depends on your personality, though."

There was one way to combat the stereotype, she said. "Probably more studying, less drinking."

BLONDE - John Hobbs 

Just the word makes you think of Legally Blonde's Reese Witherspoon prancing around in a fluffy pink jacket, gossiping and adjusting a beret on her platinum coloured locks.

For many years blonde-haired individuals have been portrayed in movies and the media as superficial, simple and gigglers.

Armed with tertiary qual-ifications, breaking the stereotype is 25-year-old teacher and mother of one: Alicia Cunningham.

Alicia graduated from the University of Canterbury in 2007 with a BEd majoring in physical education, health and biology and has a diploma in teaching and learning.

The most common thing people associated with Alicia's hair colour was that she was "ditzy or dumb", like the collection of blondes in reality shows such as Girls of the Playboy Mansion.

"If the TV and radio weren't bagging different stereotypes I think we as humans wouldn't be as critical, but when you open a magazine it jumps out at us.

"Generally people know because we're blonde we're not dumb, but it's just a saying."

Alicia said when she was younger there was more of a problem with being stereotyped as a blonde, especially if she was with a group of friends who shared the same hair colour.

"It doesn't bother me now because I'm comfortable as I am."

When it comes to having lapses of logical or rational behaviour, commonly known as blonde moments, Alicia said she thinks things through more before she says something, but did not take particular offence to jokes about blondes. She said there were a lot of blondes at teachers' college and university, which dispelled the lack of intelligence theory.

"Your hair colour is just materialistic ... it's the inside that counts, not the outside."

FARMER - Hayley McCaughan

Murray Bradshaw grew so tired of wearing sparkling white in his former tennis coaching career that he longed to do something that involved ... mud.

Now he works near Geraldine on a dairy farm.

As a dreadlock-wearing former tennis coach and youth pastor with a teaching degree, Murray Bradshaw looks more like a surfer than a dairy farmer.

Aged 41, Murray agreed to take part in a lighthearted discussion on farming stereotypes.

Some say the stereotypical farmer is conservative, yet quiet, wealthy, stoic, strong, rough and tough. The archetypal Kiwi male. Did that fit?

"Everything you said, except a rich farmer," Murray said.

"Crikey, I used to be a townie for years, but to be honest, now that I'm a farmer, I understand what farmers are doing.

"When I used to see irrigators working in the rain, I thought, `Dumb farmers – it's raining.' Now I realise that it's only going a few centimetres into the soil, and we need the irrigation."

Was the weather a topic you speak about often, then? Clearly, it was.

"It's a conversation point, most days. We're always on the lookout for rain."

On whether he saw himself as a Fred Dagg or Wal, of Footrot Flats, type, "The Footrot Flats one, he's a bumbling idiot, isn't he?"

What brought you to dairy farming? "Well, I always said I'd never be a dairy farmer. I was doing maintenance work on a dairy farm when the recession hit, and the boss said my job was about to become half a job."

Murray had been a successful youth tennis player and then coached for many years, in Rotorua and Timaru.

"I was a tennis coach for years and years and years, so I just wanted to go out and get mucky. Got sick of wearing white socks, shirts and tracksuits.

"My stepdad was a dairy farmer. I used to enjoy staying there in the holidays. I always loved hunting, fishing, shooting, always wanted to go out and get mucky and dirty."

Clearly, Murray had found his calling. He says he probably fits the appearance of the stereotype in that he enjoys working outdoors, his hands now have calluses and he has become physically stronger from the work involved.

So is the stereotype accurate?

Murray laughed. "I think appearances would portray that message but when you talk to guys, you get the broad spectrum of the community."

So do the media reinforce the stereotype?

"Yep, definitely, just with the ads on TV."

TATTOOS - Louise Risk

"Oh, you've got a lot of drawings on you, don't you dear."

Many Sopheze Coffee Lounge customers comment on Alana Marie Harper's tattoos and piercings when they see them for the first time, but this rocker girl feels the feedback is always positive.

In fact, Alana enjoys being unique and quite likes the attention that her tattooed arms, body and legs, as well as her multiple piercings, attract.

"It would be so boring to walk into a room where everyone looked the same."

"Everyone likes to express themselves, whether it be through sport, music, poetry, art or whatever; for me, this [tattoo art] is the most effective way."

Alana has never missed out on a job because of her tattoos, but she has been conscious to get them on parts of her body that she can cover up if necessary.

Having the ability to cover up was a definite requirement when she got her first tattoo, a small spiky love heart, at age 14.

"I hid it for a year but when my mum saw it, she was pleased that it was tasteful.

"Since I was little I've been around musical people and my mum also has tattoos, so there was nothing unusual about them to me."

Alana, who has about 25 tattoos, confessed to having become obsessed with them in the decade since she got her first one. "You actually get addicted."

Even if her friend Scott, of Tattrix tattoo parlour in Timaru, did not give her mates rates, Alana would still willingly spend the $400 or so required for a two-hour sitting in a tattooist's chair.

In return for his generosity, Alana hopes to someday win Scott a trophy from one of the tattoo art competitions held annually in Christchurch and Oamaru, where tattooed competitors converge to admire, and be inspired by, each other's art.

Alana sometimes dyes her hair a bright colour, and at other times she wears bright purple contact lenses.

These lenses once caused a teenage shop assistant to stop scanning her groceries and gather several friends to look at Alana and her boyfriend, who was wearing electric-blue lenses at the time.

"We really just wanted our groceries, but we didn't get annoyed. We just laughed."

Alana said this event was unusual, as it was rare for people to stare, but, ironically, if she ever saw someone with a lot of tattoos, she always stared at them in order to see more detail.

Alana says she has no regrets, and doubts that she will when she is older.

"Even if I stop getting tattoos, the ones I have will explain a part of my life," she said.

"Having wrinkly old tattoos won't bother me. Everyone will be old with wrinkly tattoos at the same time."

For people considering getting their first tattoo, Alana suggested they picture themselves in five years' time.

"Also, think about what you want, not what anyone else thinks you should have," she said.

To Alana, the whole thing is really quite simple: get busy living, or get busy dying.

She even has the tattoo to prove it.

BOY RACER - Samantha Pooke

Loud exhausts keeping you awake at night, body kits scraping along the ground, bottles of alcohol thrown at your car – the boy racers are at it again.

Jeremy Bell believes he is a car enthusiast but feels stereotyped as a boy racer because of the way his car looks.

"People just brand you as one because you're young and you have a flashy car like that."

He stresses there is a big difference between a boy racer and a car enthusiast, but not many people understand it.

"A car enthusiast will buy a car like mine and spend heaps of money on it. A boy racer to me is someone who buys an early 80s Starlet."

Jeremy defines a car enthusiast as someone who looks after their car and keeps it well maintained. It is always warranted and registered and they are "people who actually care about their car".

He says car enthusiasts still like cruising at night, but they avoid doing skids or anything that will get them in trouble.

"It's more of a friends thing for young people – it's the thing to do on a Friday night.

"You see the wear and tear on your car; I can't do it every weekend. It's just the thing to do when you're bored. It's very social."

Jeremy has owned his white Subaru WRX for more than three years.

"You have your favourite types of cars. I like mine because it's very unique sounding – that's what draws me to it."

He says he has never had anyone complain about the noise of his car, except for his parents, but he has had a police warning, even though he says he was not doing anything wrong.

"I have been told by police that it's too loud. It can be very quiet but if you drive it differently, it can be loud."

After his warning, Jeremy got a silencer for his car, which he said was effective. "Quietens it down quite a bit, it doesn't get noticed as much."

Not only is he perceived as a boy racer by his boss, he says that even when he is on the road, he is classed as that type of person. "I might just be going to work and someone coming next to me trying to drag and I'm legitimately going to work."

Jeremy says it runs in the family and his father was just like him growing up. In his day, he was a hoon, before they had boy racers.

"But they weren't bad back then. The cars they have today are a lot faster."

WAIMATE - Alex Fensome

Every district, province or state has its Waimate.

You know what they say about the water. You've heard the Father's Day jokes.

We've all done it. Taking the piss out of Waimos doesn't make us bad people.

For all the bogans, leaky homes and rusty utes, you can buy the best icecream in South Canterbury at the El Paso dairy, and the Art Trio cafe is top class.

So are the views from the White Horse on a clear day.

Are we fair to Waimate?

"It's been like that for years," say the players from the town's inter-club squash team.

Brent McMorran, Neil Inkster and Peter Collins think the stereotype of the hard-drinking roughnecked Waimo has its origins in fact.

"It's growing up around all those corner watering holes," Brent says. "Lots of pubs there."

The trio say coming from Waimate hasn't held them back.

"We're very secure in ourselves ... it's just one of those things, inter-county rivalry."

Waimos are supposed to be happy to live their lives as beneficiaries, but the town has produced several high achievers.

"Norman Kirk. He was prime minister, and he's buried there."

The team leap to speak up about Kirk, but don't feel overly proud of producing a politician.

Kirk left school at 13 and achieved greatly through hard work and self-belief. Maybe that's a good Waimate stereotype.

Some say Waimate has crime issues and is full of beneficiaries who don't do anything.

"Most of the problems come from other districts, like Timaru and Mackenzie," the team jokes – Timaru and Mackenzie are playing squash on the other courts tonight.

The water quality doesn't seem to be an issue for Brent. "We may not drink a lot of water ... but we drink a lot of marinated water!" he says, hoisting an Export.

- © Fairfax NZ News