As for me, well, I proudly stand before you all as a product of my upbringing, which I owe to my very strong mother Christine Fernie, who sits in the gallery today. You see, my Pākehā mother married my Māori father, but she raised my sister and I on her own. She worked two jobs, night and day, to afford to buy her first home for us. She worked those two jobs so that her two daughters could play sport, have food, be clothed, wear school uniforms, and have a home to return to each day. She told us, as we were growing up, that we needed to work twice as hard as everybody else because we were Māori and we were female. In the 1970s, a single Pākehā mother with two Māori kids did not fit into society well, but, nevertheless, my mother's example taught us to stay true to what we believed in and to stand up for those less fortunate. I remember, as a teenager, bringing street kids home so they could have a safe place to stay at night, and mum tripping over strangers in the living room when she returned from her night job. Mum's aroha was extended to all of those that needed help, and all she asked in return was for enough milk to be left in the morning for her coffee. She is proud of me and I am proud of her. I take this opportunity to thank you, Mum, for the life that you have given me, for the empathy that you have taught me, for the aroha that you have always shown me, and for your patience with me—I have been known to be a bit of a handful at times.