It's 125 years since women gained the hard-won right to vote in New Zealand, leading the world in the political emancipation of half of its population. Reporter Britt Mann and photographer Chris McKeen went in search of the social activists of today – young women prepared to fight for change.

Chris McKeen/Stuff

Pania Newton is a lawyer and activist in South Auckland.

PANIA NEWTON (Waikato, Ngāpuhi, Te Rarawa, Ngāti Maniapoto) is a lawyer from South Auckland. The 27-year-old is also at the forefront of Save Our Unique Landscape, a group contesting the rezoning of land at Ihumātao in Mangere. The area is an internationally significant heritage landscape which Fletchers Residential has been granted resource consent to build 500 houses on. Pania recently took the fight to the United Nations in Geneva.

I feel like all the parts of my life growing up have prepared me for this campaign, which is to defend the land at Ihumātao. When I was 9, I wrote in a time capsule at school that I wanted to be a lawyer when I grew up, to help others and to fight for Māori rights and for my family. I worked hard in high school, went to university, enrolled in bachelors of Law and Health Sciences. I was considering either being a doctor or a lawyer. I went and dissected a lamb's heart and I couldn't deal with it, so I thought the compromise would be doing population health.

READ MORE:
* The problem with Hairy Maclary: Why are girls missing from children's books?
* 'She rebuilt me': Trail-blazing Kiwi women talk about their invisible heroes
* 27 is the age of 'what next?'

I didn't always have the shiniest upbringing. Both of my parents have colourful pasts. I was moved around a lot as a young kid, but I was always lucky to have a supportive family to help steer me in the right direction, even though education wasn't a big thing for them. I wasn't really encouraged to finish high school or go to university. But I felt obliged to fulfil that goal I'd written down at school.

At the end of my law degree, I decided that I would work for my community, my marae, for one year. While I was working there, I discovered this issue around Ihumātao. I'd had involvement with youth activist groups, having conversations which really enlightened me about the political movements in Aotearoa. I knew immediately when those surveying people were put on our land that I had a responsibility to the land, and future generations, to do everything in my power to protect it.

I went into university pursuing a vocational career in law, but I've gone off and done activism. Everyone told me that I should be working towards building my career and that six-figure income, but it wasn't really where my heart was.

Despite all the shit that we go through in this campaign, there's never a day where I'm like: "I just want to drop it all and walk away." When you start something, you have to see it through.

ALDEN WILLIAMS/STUFF

ECan regional councillor and freshwater ecologist Lan Pham on Lake Ellesmere in West Canterbury. The lake is the most important wetland habitat of its type in New Zealand. ECan is planning for a 50 per cent increase in the lake's nitrate levels by 2040.

LAN PHAM is the youngest councillor at ECan, Canterbury's regional council. The 32-year-old freshwater ecologist gave birth to her first child, Khoi, just over a week before this photo was taken.

I grew up in Wellington and studied ecology at Massey University. Then I came to the South Island and started working for DOC in freshwater stuff where I was learning heaps about native fish species. I never even knew we had native fish in New Zealand. I thought trout were native!

The more I was learning about these really endangered fish, the more I was like, how do we not hear about them? I eventually went on to do my Masters in freshwater ecology.

Through that, I learnt more and more about how water was governed and what kind of crazy decisions were being made that don't actually provide for our environment, or for future generations. I started the Working Waters Trust. It was the really happy stuff – freshwater education and restoration of endangered native fish habitats mostly on private land, working with farmers and landowners. It went really well and the trust is still operational, but eventually I was like, what is the point when, on a larger scale, our biodiversity's going backwards, and all of these huge environmental issues are overwhelming any good smaller-scale projects? That's what drove me into governance.

I was running science and biodiversity projects on Raoul Island in the Kermadecs – it's New Zealand's northernmost island, halfway between here and Tonga. There were only seven people living on the island. Living the island hermit life is cool and amazing – humpback whales in the bay…

But it's not really that satisfying when the rest of the world is essentially going to the dogs. I was like: "You know what? I'm going to run for regional council." 

I had no idea what I was doing and just made some ridiculous videos from the island, and then ran. I was the highest polling candidate.

It's the best job in the world. It's just people and issues. Constantly.

Growing up, I had the assumption that there are really courageous people out there who are fighting the good fight and taking care of things. It was only when I realised that wasn't necessarily true, I was like: "Far out, I actually need to use my brain to figure these issues out and then say something about them, because there's not necessarily anyone there." 

We could have a thriving, diverse, amazing local government and central government sector if people realised how powerful their own voices were.

For me, it's that intergenerational injustice that drives any interest I have in this area. "Let's leave the world in a better place" – that's a nice sentiment, but we're getting to the point where that's a total luxury. Are future generations going to have clean water to drink, are they going to have soils where they can grow crops? It's the basics now.

The country as a whole, whether we want to acknowledge it or not, is clocking up huge environmental debt which will need to be paid. If we really want to address these issues, there's no better, cheaper, cost-effective time to do that than now.

* Lan was photographed in 50cm of water, within 5m from the shoreline. She had a PFD stowed in the dinghy.

Chris McKeen/Stuff

PSA National Secretary Erin Polaczuk.

ERIN POLACZUK is the national secretary of the PSA – the Public Service Association Te Pūkenga Here Tikanga Mahi – New Zealand's largest union, which represents more than 63,000 workers. Erin, 37, is of Irish and Polish descent. She lives in Wellington.

For me, being a part of a union and leading a union was a bit of a no-brainer. Both my parents are unionists, and my grandparents were unionists. 

We're from a really, really large family in Naenae, Wellington, a working-class suburb. Because we're large, we understand that there's power in the collective, and because we're working class, we understand class struggle. 

I've always wanted to put my efforts into improving the world that we live in. My first forays into activism were through environmental issues and animal rights issues. When I was at university I became involved in the Youth Rates Suck campaign which was run by a couple of trade unions. And it won the removal of age-based pay discrimination from the law, which unfortunately has now been re-established. That gave me a real taste of what you can achieve collectively through the unions. 

After university, I became part of the traineeship and started right at the bottom in terms of union jobs, working in a variety of different roles for a variety of different unions. I just knew, right from those early days, that the union was the place I wanted to be, and still want to be.

Unions are needed now more than ever. Many younger people haven't had the experience of unions, simply because they've entered the workforce at a time where unions haven't been strong. All you need to do is look around to see that work is now precarious, that we live in a low-wage economy.

People work long hours, people are treated by their employers as though the fact that they have a job is a gift to them rather than a fair exchange of labour for a wage/salary. I find it rare to meet people these days who think that's an acceptable way for our country to continue. It's now well understood that the fact that we live in such an economically unequal society is the result of the decline of organised labour in this country. There's absolutely no way to address this situation and to rebalance things without the unions growing and becoming stronger.

The fact that we're 105 years old, as a union, can be quite helpful. We've survived in very adverse times and we've survived in golden years as well. The reason it thrives is because it adapts. I'm just a part of the big machine of the PSA. It's greater than the sum of its parts. I liken to it looking at a night sky. It makes it a little easier to do a reality check and put life into perspective.

Chris McKeen/Stuff

PAPA press spokesperson Emilie Rakete.

EMILIE RAKETE is the press spokesperson for People Against Prisons Aotearoa, an organisation working to improve conditions for prisoners and challenging the existence of the criminal justice system itself. PAPA emerged from No Pride In Prisons, a group which protested the inclusion of police and corrections officers in Auckland's annual Pride Parade. Emilie (Ngāpuhi and Te Rawawa) is a graduate student at the University of Auckland. She is 25.

I think I was born with quite a big mouth. My dad is a media guy so I've kind of always been quite comfortable around being with people and doing media stuff. My job as press spokesperson for People Against Prisons Aotearoa is only one of the really, really important things that people in this organisation do every day.

When we look at the role prisons play in our society, it's really apparent that they have almost nothing to do with resolving the social harm that people have done to one another, and everything to do with maintaining the current system of power in this country – which means upholding capitalism and racism, essentially.

The way I see it, this country is ruled by one class of people who own and control property and they use that power to force others to sell their labour to them – this is the basic dynamic of capitalism – and it's caused immense bloodshed and suffering for the almost 200 years in which this system has ruled this country. Prisons have always been a central part of how capitalism is maintained in New Zealand. The prison sits at this nexus of racism, colonialism and capitalism in Aotearoa. The longer capitalism is the dominant system in New Zealand, the longer people will be suffering and dying in poverty for no reason other than to make a handful of people extremely wealthy. So prison abolition, for me, is part of the movement to abolish the status quo.

At the moment our primary campaign is to abolish solitary confinement in New Zealand prisons. Most people do not even realise that solitary confinement occurs here. And when they hear that people in solitary confinement have killed themselves, that they lose the ability to see further than the walls of their cells because their eyes degenerate… When people hear about the schizophrenia, hallucinations, paranoia, and violent impulses that solitary confinement causes, the overwhelming majority of people realise that this is an abomination – that this is deplorable, that this is an atrocity being perpetrated by our government to uphold the interests of one wealthy class.

Chris McKeen/Stuff

Environmental activist Gina Mitchell.

GINA MITCHELL is a Greenpeace activist and member of the Titirangi Protection Group, which opposes Watercare's plan to build a water treatment plant in the area and encourages the council-controlled organisation to consult with the community about a sustainable solution to providing water for New Zealand's biggest city. Gina, 32, lives in West Auckland. 

I've grown up in West Auckland. I'm come from a journey of trying to better my mental health. And walking in the bush has really helped me. When the issue with Watercare came up – they were basically tossing up between two suburbs as to where to base their water treatment plant – and the decision came out last year, that pushed me to speak up. 

It was kind of at a point where [it was like] the environment didn't matter. I felt like I had such a deep connection to this area, that to basically supply water at the cheapest cost and not care about the environmental issues that were at stake, I just couldn't ignore it. I felt like I was talking all this talk, I've got to walk it.

I've always been a bit shy and I've had a lot of strong opinions but I've never really followed through on them. If I'd sat back and done nothing, I would have regretted it.

I was part of a Greenpeace occupation on The Mermaid Searcher [while it was collecting supplies for the Amazon Warrior, a Schlumberger-owned 125-metre long ship carrying out seismic surveying in an area off the Taranaki coast]. I'd had a bit of training in direct action with Greenpeace and they said: "Hey, do you want to come along?" I said OK.

I got down to Taranaki and they said: "We're going to board the ship." I was really scared. I just felt compelled to do it, like I had to.

I haven't worked for a wee while. I was a hairdresser and I worked at an IT help desk. I just felt in my job I wasn't really doing what made me happy. I felt like there was more out there, and I wanted to do something that meant something. That's why I've committed myself to the Titirangi Protection Group. 

My husband is probably my biggest supporter. He can feel if I'm struggling. He'll just say: "You need to do this, keep going." 

He believes in me and that it's going to work out. Having someone that has that confidence in me really helps.

I'm just an everyday person who decided I wanted to speak up. Everyday people are activists.

* Nominations for the 2018 Women of Influence Awards are open. Nominate an influential woman you know at stuff.co.nz/womenofinfluence   

 - Sunday Magazine