It wasn\u2019t the only ghostly mischief Barker indulged in while living in the country\u2019s only true Victorian gothic castle. \u201cI\u2019m afraid that we may or may not have thrown scones off the tower,\u201d she laughs, adding that she would also hide under one of the castle\u2019s staircases to rattle chains and make spooky noises. \u201cWe did lots of naughty stuff. All these visitors were sent to entertain us.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
These days, 58-year-old Barker is rattling chains of a different kind in her new role as mayor of \u014ctepoti Dunedin. She\u2019s talking to The Spinoff on a warm Dunedin afternoon over a drink \u2013 Barker initially opts for tea, before settling on lemonade \u2013 outside The Craic Irish bar in the Octagon, where cruise ship tourists wander past the city\u2019s enormous Christmas tree and up to the famed statue of Robbie Burns. The fresh air and sunshine is a welcome respite for Barker, who has spent the day entombed in the city\u2019s civil defence bunker, learning about what will happen when the big one \u2013 the South Island alpine fault<\/a> \u2013 eventually ruptures.\u00a0<\/p>\n Perhaps it\u2019s because disaster readiness is on her mind, but Barker describes her first eight weeks as mayor as \u201ca tsunami\u201d of meetings, information and training. The two-term councillor and former deputy mayor defeated incumbent mayor Jules Radich and car salesman Andrew Simms by only 898 votes<\/a>, making her Dunedin\u2019s first female mayor in 30 years (and only the second in the city\u2019s history, after Sukhi Turner in 1995). It\u2019s a steady rise to political power for someone who describes themselves as \u201cnot political\u201d. What\u2019s the attraction of local body politics for Barker, then?\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cFor me, it\u2019s not about the politics, it\u2019s about sorting the city out,\u201d she says.\u00a0<\/p>\n Barker\u2019s desire to sort things out began early. Her mother Margaret was 24 and eight months pregnant when she and husband Barry visited Larnach Castle in 1967 and decided that the opportunity to purchase a castle was too good to miss. Barker was born six weeks later. The castle was a near ruin, with leaking roofs and rotten floorboards and a local farmer using the ballroom to pen sheep. The work to restore the 1871 building over the next five decades was unrelenting, and Barker worked hard from a young age, cleaning, serving and helping with the constant stream of visitors.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cMy first memories are of running around the veranda and putting buckets under the leaks, and you\u2019d lie there at night hearing the noises of rats and possums coming in,\u201d Barker recalls. Life was hardest during the long, dark southern winters, which bought on miserable conditions and chillblains. \u201cPeople think living in a castle would be glamorous, but it was just cold.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n But between the flying scones and ghost chains, Barker believes those formative years taught her the importance of hard work and striving for excellence, and shaped her eventual move into local body politics. At 40, Barker left the castle and worked in the Dunedin City Council economic development unit for seven years, before moving to the Royal Albatross Centre and Blue Penguins Pukekura at Taiaroa Head. Here, she became frustrated at the unfulfilled potential for economic development and tourism in the city, which motivated her to stand for council in 2019. \u201cWe weren\u2019t looking after our destination \u2013 our beaches, our sea lions \u2013 all that kind of stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n Now \u201call that kind of stuff\u201d is firmly under Barker\u2019s remit as mayor. We finish our drinks and take a short stroll through the city down to Dunedin\u2019s iconic railway station (reportedly the most photographed building in the country, and the second-most photographed building in the Southern Hemisphere). As Barker recommends the salads at The General Store and Jitzu\u2019s great sushi, we pass by newly upgraded Bath Street, where rainbow crossings were recently scrapped due to budget constraints<\/a>. It was a move Barker found frustrating. \u201cWe need young people to see themselves reflected in the city. We want to be a vibrant place. It\u2019s great to be a heritage capital, but we also need to be a bit modern and open to new ideas.\u201d<\/p>\n Dunedin\u2019s biggest challenge, Barker believes, is that it\u2019s not good at promoting itself. \u201cWe need to be better at telling our stories,\u201d she says, noting how other New Zealand cities fight harder for recognition. She wants Dunedin to be the most liveable place in the country, one that attracts young people and families to live and stay here and encourages businesses to invest and prosper. The city won\u2019t do that, however, by being coy about its many charms, like its heritage buildings and impressive natural environment. \u201cWe fought for our hospital<\/a> and became extremely visible. But we need to fight for our future as well, because if we don\u2019t go forwards, we\u2019ll go backwards.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n The city is busy and alive as we cross state highway one to reach the railway station\u2019s well manicured gardens, but Barker knows that the next three years will be challenging for her team. Nearly half of her 14 councillors are in their first term, and they\u2019re facing a barrage of central government reforms that include rates capping<\/a>, the removal of regional councils<\/a> and RMA reform. These reforms are further headwinds for a council already responding to complex local issues like climate adaptation in South Dunedin<\/a>, the remediation of Kettle Park<\/a> and a 30-year infrastructure replacement backlog, while still continuing to deliver all the services that ratepayers expect.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cThe government got in on localism, and then they turned their back on it and want to dictate<\/a>, so it makes it really hard,\u201d says Barker. How exactly do you maintain a vibrant and dynamic city with less money? Barker shakes her head. \u201cYou can\u2019t do it. That\u2019s the thing. If people want to keep living here, we still have to spend the money, because otherwise the population decreases and there are less ratepayers. You have to create a place that people want to visit and keep investing in the future, because otherwise you become broken down.\u201d<\/p>\n Barker may have only been in the role for two months, but she\u2019s already faced criticism from some of her councillors, who claimed she \u201dmislead<\/a>\u201d and \u201csidelined<\/a>\u201d them with her new portfolio-based governance system. Barker seems unfazed by the criticism, and acknowledges that managing relationships with councillors is always a challenge. It follows her resignation as deputy mayor in 2023<\/a>, after a breakdown in the relationship with then-mayor Radich. Barker describes her relationship with Radich these days as \u201cpretty good\u201d, and believes that different perspectives around the council table should be expected. \u201cWe won\u2019t always agree, and that\u2019s democracy.\u201d<\/p>\n What Barker is more perturbed about is the level of vitriol that she encountered during the mayoral campaign. Public life is tough, she says. \u201cI knew it would be 24\/7, but the online stuff \u2013 the growth in abuse and harassment \u2013 has made it a lot harder for people to stand. It\u2019s pretty ugly.\u201d She no longer reads the \u201chideous\u201d things people have said about her \u2013 Barker was sworn at in public during the mayoral campaign and received late-night messages<\/a> telling her she should die \u2013 but she worries about the impact this relentless online abuse has on local democracy<\/a>, particularly on female candidates.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cPeople don\u2019t stand, and then people don\u2019t vote because they become disengaged, and that sets us up for a lot of rot in our democracy,\u201d she says. \u201cWe need everyone in the community to have a voice.\u201d<\/p>\nLarnach Castle (Photo: Creative Commons)<\/p>\n
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