A photograph of a person putting pen to paper with a red X on top.
An argument against the new English curriculum released in April 2025.

OPINIONPoliticsApril 28, 2025

Why I’ve told my principal I will not teach the new proposed English curriculum

A photograph of a person putting pen to paper with a red X on top.
An argument against the new English curriculum released in April 2025.

David Taylor, head of English at Northcote College, outlines why he will refuse to teach the latest draft of the English curriculum.

“I’ll look no more, / Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight / Topple down headlong.” (King Lear, Act 4, Scene 6)

Since 2007, New Zealand schools have had an excellent curriculum, acknowledged the world over and used successfully in diverse communities throughout the country. In 2021, I began working with other secondary English teachers, primary school teachers, educational researchers, and academic experts to update or “refresh” the curriculum for the English learning area. In September 2023, this refreshed curriculum was released, but with an election coming, the Ministry of Education lost their bottle, and quickly paused its implementation – a political decision rather than an educational one. 

The incoming government ditched the new version and began work on a new-new one, one that shifts, ideologically, away from supporting students to thrive as its starting point, to one based on a politics of fear and conservatism.

This new-new version was released three weeks ago and is currently out for consultation before a final version will be sent out in term four and expected to be taught in 2026. So far, much of the debate has centred around whether Shakespeare “should” be taught. In the context of what is at stake here, that discussion is irrelevant – though just to be clear, Shakespeare is not AWOL, he has never left the building, so everyone can just calm the fustian foolery down. Focussing so much on Shakespeare misses the fundamental problems with this new national directive. I have already met with my principal to tell her that I am not prepared to teach, or lead people to teach, this new curriculum, and I believe all English teachers and Heads of Department have a professional responsibility to do the same.  

Here are the five main reasons:

1. The 2025 curriculum document enables systemic racism

This might sound exaggerated, but let’s look at the evidence. It’s not just that there is not one single mention of Te Tiriti. For all the talk of the “science of learning”, this curriculum deliberately tries to steer teachers and students away from what we know works to improve educational outcomes for Māori students: progress-based learning; creative, and expressive writing; collaborative projects; active integration of Te Tiriti o Waitangi; real-world competencies; engaging critically with media and society; high flexibility allowing student voice, choice and agency.

The disparity for many Māori students in the education system is a direct consequence of colonisation. By trying to stop the decolonisation of the curriculum, this document, and its writers, are expressly trying to stop teaching strategies which help Māori students to achieve at the same level as their peers. 

Head of the English curriculum writing group Elizabeth Rata has publicly said that “a decolonised curriculum does not provide quality content”. Here she is deliberately trying to equate mātauranga Māori, and successful pedagogical approaches to helping Māori students thrive, to a lack of rigour, importance and value. It is the science of prejudice and racism. It runs contrary to the experience of teachers who have been endeavouring to deliver equitable outcomes for Māori students. It is an act of re-colonisation, an enterprise that has racism at its core. The Treaty principles bill may have been voted down, but it is still being enacted here. Anyone who objected to that bill should take a strong interest in opposing this curriculum.

2. Reading for pleasure has been demoted

The 2023 curriculum, based on copious evidence from around the world of its importance, placed reading for pleasure as one of the four central activities students would do in English from years 1–13.  

In the 2025 version, reading for pleasure has been seriously demoted: rather than a core part of learning, teachers should “support” and “encourage” reading for pleasure under the heading “Working with Text”. This is from years 9 – 13. There is no mention of reading for pleasure for students in years 7 — 8. It is an activity empirically proven in multiple studies to have enormous benefits for student success far beyond the subject of English. This is a curriculum focussed on telling students what they have to read, not helping them to find what they should, need, or want to read.  

A screen capture of the cover page of the new English curriculum showing the logos of the Ministry of Education and the word "DRAFT"
You can read the draft curriculum online here.

3. Its trumpeting of ‘science’ is simply ironic

The latest version of the curriculum uses phrases like “science of learning” and “knowledge-rich” and yet proven knowledge of the benefits of a decolonised practice and of reading for pleasure have been rejected. We have been given a curriculum that declares books written between midnight of December 31, 1799 and midnight of December 31, 1899 are better for our students than any texts (other than Shakespeare) written in any other time period. I’d like to see the scientific proof of the benefits of this narrow offer. 

The loss of student-centered, collaborative, inclusive and diverse practices which align with real-world contexts, in favour of ready answers for a pub quiz literature round, makes the “scientific” claims of the new document farcical.

4. The rhetoric used in the new curriculum undermines diversity of knowledge

As for “knowledge-rich”, the writers of our new national curriculum have worked hard repeating this phrase in order to imply that previous iterations of our curriculum have lacked knowledge: it is an attempted justification for an enormous shift in ideology behind what, and how, we teach the nation’s children.  

Students throughout Aotearoa currently enjoy knowledge-rich curricula. The expert knowledge of teachers – not just about their subject, but about their students and their communities – provides rich learning opportunities for young people to develop skills, knowledge and confidence in authentic and meaningful ways. We already have a knowledge-rich curriculum, but the rhetoric employed in the current process deliberately undermines this. 

The real question here is not what knowledge, but whoseThe claims of universal truths about knowledge and quality are in reality an exercise in marginalisation.

5. The new curriculum lacks an awareness of students and their needs

Any competent teacher will tell you that knowing your students is an essential aspect of being able to meet their educational needs. The subject of English has traditionally provided many opportunities for students to meaningfully explore their own lives, as well as the lives of others, and the world in general. English teachers have the privilege of working with, and getting to know, students as they tell their own stories – both in fiction and non-fiction; and using written, oral and visual language. 

In an era where so many adolescents struggle with moderate to severe mental health challenges, safe and structured outlets like these could be seen as essential. However, the 2025 curriculum moves significantly away from emphasising students’ own storytelling as a central curriculum goal, choosing to frame text creation more as a procedural aspect of “Language Studies”.  

It is predominantly a curriculum that talks at them, with little interest in listening to them, or understanding them. There is a concerning lack of real-world awareness of young people and their needs. It marginalises the voices of our young people just when they are facing the significant challenges of the adolescent years and working out who they want to be as adults.

This curriculum must be actively and rigorously opposed. I will be using previous versions of the English curriculum in my teaching. Some will say that it is my job to teach the curriculum. Usually I would agree. But now I am in the situation of having to choose between robotically following damaging dictates from a hot mess of a curriculum, or continuing to do my best to deliver rich, aspirational learning opportunities which help all students to develop the knowledge, skills and confidence that will allow them to thrive in the real world. 

Essentially, if the ministry is unable to provide us with something fit for purpose, it is not my job to compound the harm it will cause to my students, but to protect them from it.

Keep going!
Silhouettes of four saluting soldiers stand beside a memorial that reads "Lest We Forget." Poppies and grass are in the foreground, with white crosses on a red background behind them.
Design: The Spinoff

SocietyApril 24, 2025

Anzac Day boycott: why official services will be missing some veterans

Silhouettes of four saluting soldiers stand beside a memorial that reads "Lest We Forget." Poppies and grass are in the foreground, with white crosses on a red background behind them.
Design: The Spinoff

The call has sent ripples through the veteran community — but behind the protest lies a deeper story of neglect, frustration and a system many say has failed those it was meant to serve.

Every year on April 25, politicians and dignitaries stand before the nation, flanked by medals and wreaths, to speak of sacrifice. They recite familiar lines: “Lest we forget.” “We will remember them.” “We honour their sacrifice.” But this year, a growing number of veterans are asking: what exactly have we remembered?

The call to boycott official Anzac Day services comes from No Duff Charitable Trust, a grassroots veterans’ group that formed in 2017 to fill the gaps they believe have been left by government agencies. It isn’t about disrespecting the day, says co-founder Aaron Wood, a 24-year army veteran who served in Somalia, East Timor, Afghanistan and the Solomon Islands. It’s about demanding respect beyond the ceremonies.

Wood is quick to clarify: “We’re not calling for a boycott of Anzac Day – that’s like boycotting Christmas or your birthday. We’re calling for a boycott of the political theatre. The speeches. The sound bites. The empty promises.”

Instead of marching under the words “lest we forget,” Wood wants veterans to mark the day their own way – either before or after the official services – with mates, in silence, or not at all.

Behind the protest is a damning reality. Despite a 2017 government-commissioned review that made 64 recommendations to overhaul veteran support – from creating a proper register to expanding mental health care and financial aid – many of the core issues remain. Veterans still struggle to access timely support, thousands are excluded by a narrow legal definition, and government agencies can’t even say how many veterans live in Aotearoa.

A crisis ignored

Wood’s frustration, shared by many veterans and their whānau, isn’t just philosophical – it’s statistical. There’s still no official tracking of veteran suicides. Unemployment among veterans is 1.7 times the national rate. Recommendation 44 of the 2017 Paterson Report called for a comprehensive register. It still doesn’t exist.

“They can’t even tell you to the nearest 10,000 how many operational veterans we have,” Wood says. “How can you support people you don’t even count?”

Other issues are just as stark: A restrictive legal definition of “veteran” that locks out thousands, near-total absence of transitional support when people leave the forces, and a mental health system that, according to the Wai 2500 inquiry, ignored psychological trauma for generations.

A field of memorial crosses on the lawn in front of the Auckland War Memorial Museum on April 20, 2017. The field of white crosses was installed in the lead up to Anzac Day. (Photo by Phil Walter/Getty Images)

And while the recent amendments to the Veterans’ Support Act were meant to address many of these gaps, only 51 of the 64 Paterson recommendations were implemented in any form. Just four were fully actioned. Others – including several related to financial aid, family care, and data – were simply closed without change.

Between 2016 and 2020, No Duff depended fully on volunteers, taking over 1,000 crisis calls – many being referrals from well-resourced and funded state agencies like Corrections and Veterans’ Affairs itself. However, without funding, they burnt out. The referrals, Wood says, never stopped.

When asked why he’s pushing so hard now, Wood recounts the suicide of a young corporal just days after No Duff launched. Nine years on, he says, nothing has really changed.

“In three weeks this February and March, four veterans took their own lives. We’re averaging more than the Defence Force’s own suicide estimates – and those are nine years out of date.”

The situation, he says, isn’t just unsustainable. It’s shameful.

In a written statement, Veterans’ Affairs acknowledged that not every recommendation of the Paterson Report has been actioned. A spokesperson said that while some would require “substantial changes to the principles that underlie veteran legislation” or “significant changes in the roles and responsibilities of other agencies,” many had been addressed through law or policy changes.

“New legislation was passed in 2020 to action some of the recommendations, others have been actioned through policy changes, and in some cases, the desired result is being achieved through other means,” the spokesperson said.

They pointed to Te Arataki, a veteran support strategy launched in 2022, as one of those new approaches outside the original review. “It was an approach not considered during the Paterson review and one that is showing improved outcomes for veterans and their families.”

But veterans like Wood say those outcomes aren’t being felt on the ground. The registry still doesn’t exist. The legal definition still excludes many. And the services veterans are referred to, he says, still send too many back into the same cycle of crisis.

Anzac Day services are often full of dignitaries and formalities. (Photo: Getty Images)

“We don’t feel like it’s for us”

Marcus Amosa, a veteran of tours to East Timor and Afghanistan, describes the transition out of the military as “tough”. Wood says it is effectively just a three-day seminar and a sheet of paper explaining how to write a CV.

Now reintegrated, Amosa’s been trying to reconnect with his local RSA, but says many “contemporary veterans” feel alienated. “We walk into an RSA, and it doesn’t feel like our place. We’re not against Anzac Day, but the day doesn’t speak to our reality either.”

Amosa says he’s still planning to attend a service but fully supports the intent behind the boycott. The broader issues – mental health, veteran recognition, practical support – are too important to ignore. “There’s already been a report. Already been recommendations. Why haven’t they been acted on?”

While the actual scale of the boycott and its potential impact is unknown for now, Wood says No Duff isn’t done. If meaningful action and change doesn’t come soon, he says they’re exploring potential legal action against the government and New Zealand Defence Force for failing to discharge its statutory duty of care.

However, for now, the boycott is about visibility. Despite not being sure of how many people would participate in the boycott, Wood said the call had so far received strong support from those within the veteran community. There had been several ideas floated on what the boycott could look like – including everything from adjacent services, turning backs during speeches, or not showing up at all. “We’re just asking people not to stand in silence and pretend everything’s fine. You can still honour the day. Just don’t pretend the system isn’t broken.”

As dawn breaks on another Anzac Day tomorrow, the words will ring out again: Lest we forget. For veterans like Wood, that phrase has become hollow. What’s been forgotten, he says, isn’t history – it’s reality. The stories of the living. The struggle to be seen. The calls that go unanswered.

And this year, some will stand apart to make sure no one can ignore it.

This is Public Interest Journalism funded by NZ On Air.