Olly ohlson biography definition

  • Olly Ohlson is a pioneer
  • Let us now praise cows, but kill them and eat them

    Rachel Stewart reviews the bovine love letter, The Secret Life of Cows.

    Even though I’m likely New Zealand’s harshest critic of modern dairy farming, I’ve always enjoyed the company of cows. I’ve worked with them for years. And played with them. And frolicked in the grass with them. And slept with them. As a kid on the farm, I’d sneak out on cold nights and lie down in the paddock with the entire milking herd of 99, and, in particular, with one special girl I liked. I would nestle on her full, warm, veiny, velvety udder and fall blissfully and deeply asleep.

    Occasionally, she’d fart or snort waking me up briefly. Her visible breath would hang in the air like a localised fog in the chilly night air. When the dogs started up before dawn, I’d stealthily retrace sleepy steps back to the house and to my cold, empty bed.

    And so I’m all good with Rosamund Young’s argument in her slim little book The Secret Life of Cows that cows are sentient beings. But her anthropomorphism goes overboard. She even has an extensively hand-drawn cow family tree inside the front cover. Names of the animals include Bonnet, Little Bonnet, Gold Bonnet. This level of twee-ness makes my teeth grate, but I get the overarching logic behind it. Which is? Please love cows as much as I do, and treat them well. Amen to that.

    Young’s family has been in the cattle business since 1953, and are an excellent example of an organic farming operation that takes responsibility for the animal’s entire life – including its demise when the time comes to eat it. There’s no reference whatsoever to the slaughter aspect, or the ins and outs of mating time, but it’s obvious that Young is focusing on the more bucolic and mythological aspects of rural life. Not cow shit. Or bull semen. Messy business, all that. She won’t get the townies on side by talking about such things.

    But there’s no doubt that Young’s farming practices are streets ahead of modern far

    Ex-presenter wants Dunedin to become a 'city of peace'

    A former broadcaster, entertainer, teacher and counsellor is keen to see Dunedin transformed into a "city of peace".

    Olly Ohlson was once known for his catchphrase "keep cool till after school".

    Now, the former television presenter wants to rekindle an interest in a hidden philosophy with peace at its core - and he was delighted the University of Otago had a peace and conflict studies centre.

    Maori philosophy, psychology and medicine were banned under the Tohunga Suppression Act between 1907 and 1962.

    Maori MPs supported the move because it prevented people going to a tohunga or healer for European-introduced diseases such as chickenpox and measles, Mr Ohlson said.

    However, as well as encouraging people to seek out Western medical treatment rather than herbal medicines for those illnesses, it meant Maori philosophy and astronomy were buried.

    "My parents were holders - their parents held on to the belief system and the philosophy and just went underground," he said.

    "I'm fortunate to be a recipient of that."

    Mr Ohlson said the philosophy was one he was raised in as a child - and when he started working as a teacher and a counsellor he thought "Holy mackerel, there might be something to this after all".

    His career as an entertainer - which took him around the world - had also been informed by the teachings.

    Mr Ohlson spoke at the University of Otago on Wednesday night about "weapons of peace"; whether peace could be negotiated by force; and how peace strategies compared with military strategies when it came to preventing conflicts.

    Mr Ohlson said weapons of peace were "our minds and our mouths".

    "I got excited when I came here to Dunedin five years ago and saw that there was a peace and conflict studies centre here," he said.

    "Nothing beats talking and discussing it rather than fighting it."

    Physical and emotional abuse did not work - and the answer was talking and discussing and finding

    The ‘good old days’ of our education system weren’t actually good

    Education’s not what it used to be in Aotearoa. That’s something to be glad about, argues David Hill, who taught high school in the 60s.

    Our schools are a mess. At least, that’s what The New Zealand Initiative(especially its “Senior Fellow”  Michael Johnston), Family First, various business leaders, and the coalition government all say. 

    NZ Initiative frets that “we have a school curriculum that elevates nebulous competencies above rigorous academic knowledge”.(Actually, we have a multitude of curricula and syllabuses, acknowledging the range of ambitions and abilities across students, but moving on.) Critics of our education system say we need to go back to basics, reintroduce Shakespeare and grammar. Things ain’t what they used to be.

    Indeed they aren’t, and as an ex-teacher (secondary, 16 years), I’m so pleased.

    It’s exactly six decades since I taught my first class. They were Year 11 (Form 5E, in 1964 parlance) at an inner-suburb Auckland high school, and I still marvel at how they endured the English syllabus I had to inflict on them. 

    It was “rigorous academic knowledge”, all right. NZI would have been delighted. The “E” of 5E meant that in the rigid, academically-streamed system of the 1960s, the class was ranked second-bottom of the six fifth-form classes. They knew this: “We’re dumb,” was how Jonas put it. Yet I was meant to teach them exactly the topics that 5A covered. No tailoring of content to acknowledge their struggles, thank you. That way nebulousness lies.

    Of the 34 pupils in 5E, 28 left at the year’s end. The boys went to apprenticeships or factory and other semi-skilled roles; the girls also to factories or office jobs. They expected such work; were looking forward to it in many cases. And to prepare them, I was supposed to teach the difference between a gerund and a participle, between metonymy and synecdoche, how a compound sentence differed from a complex one. Yes, th

  • A former broadcaster, entertainer, teacher
  • Olly Ohlson

    Olly Ohlson is a pioneer of Māori language and Māori content on local television. As longtime presenter on daily children's show After School, his catchphrase “Keep cool till after school” (with accompanying sign language) was known to a generation of New Zealanders.

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    The biggest thing is to be proud to be Māori, and to be proud to be an individual. And the Māori philosophy helps them [Māori youth] to stand a bit taller. Olly Ohlson

    50 Years of New Zealand Television: 1 - From One Channel to One Hundred

    2010, Subject, Subject - Television

    Bumble - Bumble's Christmas

    2000, As: Fishy - Television

    Bumble - Kiwi

    2000, Kaitiaki Māori, As: Fishy - Television

    Bumble

    1999 - 2002, Voice of Fishy, Puppeteer - Television

    After School - Māorimind (Episode)

    1981, Writer, Presenter - Television

    After School

    1980 - 1987, Writer, Presenter - Television