A tribute to Krystle Field

Note from the editor: Krystle was a friend of many at The D*List, and impacted even more in her community. She once wrote a thoughtful, hilarious piece for us about the most iconic lifts in Te-Whanganui-a-Tara, which is well worth a read.

When working on publishing this tribute, some of us who did not know Krystle got talking about her and discovered friend and family connections to her that we didn't know we had. Krystle's presence in the Wellington community, and disability communities, was enormous. 

It's always difficult when we lose someone in our community, especially so young. If you knew her, our thoughts are with you. Krystle will be very missed. 

The first thought that came to mind when it was suggested that I write a piece to honour Krystle was how much I wished I could message her and say, ‘Hey! Weird turn of events, but I’ve been asked to write an obituary for you on the D*List. Any comms tips?’

As both a comms person by trade and a proud disabled person, Krystle loved the D*List. As a follower since its inception, she was always so supportive of its mission to tell our own stories in our own ways. When a couple of comms roles came up last year, we both lamented about how unfortunate it was that they were based in Auckland, as she would have been the perfect fit.

Then, earlier this year, she replied to an Instagram story of mine encouraging people to apply to be on the D*List board. She said she was super keen, but had been in hospital and was having some further tests.

As we all do in such situations, I hoped that the tests would go well, the health scare would be just that, and we would soon be back to catching up over brunch. I could tell her how the recruitment process was going, and reassure her that while she couldn’t make it work this time, there will be another opportunity at some point. If she couldn’t be a staff member, she’d be a fantastic board member.

Very sadly, that never happened. Only a few months later, Krystle passed away last week at the tender age of 40. How unjust that is to type.

We became fast friends some years ago, both being disabled people, public servants, politics nerds, and keen foodies. Such a combo meant our catch-ups usually involved at least some ranting about the ableism we’d experienced recently, work, and the state of the world at large over a meal. Although our topics of conversation were often heavy, they were also deeply (and darkly) funny. Better to laugh than to cry.

Krystle was also always up for going to local events and navigating the accessibility barriers that came with me being a wheelchair user. We went to the World of Wearable Arts show together last year - my first time - in which our seats were in a premium spot for a cheap price, and as my “companion”, her ticket was free. Finally some crip tax relief, we joked.

Another event I recall going to together happened just before the 2023 election, focused on hearing from the main parties about their disability policies. A One News journalist approached us after the event and asked us what we thought.

“We’re public servants,” we said hurriedly. "So we best not answer!’ and off we scurried out of view of the TV camera, worried we’d be caught in the background of the shot. You can bet we discussed it over dinner afterwards instead where such professionalism didn’t apply!

Krystle was the epitome of professionalism as a public servant, where working at Whaikaha for several years, she was hugely dedicated to bettering the lives of disabled people. As someone whose job included managing Whaikaha’s social media, she was deeply affected having to bear witness to the aftermath of the ‘March 18’ changes to disability support funding, as people took to social media to vent their frustration and share the impacts of the changes on them and/or people they cared for.

She talked at length about how much stress it caused her to see people in distress and how having to monitor and respond to their posts and emails without being able to do anything to help impacted her sleep and general wellbeing. Working in the same building, we had many conversations about how difficult it was to navigate the situation as a disabled person herself. And yet, day after day, she did what she could to write and respond with clarity, kindness, and empathy. That was Krystle to a tee.

As disabled people, we are forced to grapple with losing friends far too soon. I reflected with my very dear friend, Matt, who told me of Krystle’s passing, that having to tell each other about community members’ deaths year-on-year is one part of the disability experience which never gets less difficult, and never will.

I wish that instead of writing about Krystle now at 40, I could still be hanging out with her at 80, as more disabled, still politically nerdy, former public servant foodies, where over yet another meal before or after going to an event, we would reminisce about being on the D*List board together. Or maybe about her stint managing the D*List’s comms after it expanded to Wellington (as a proud Wellingtonian, there’s no way she would move to Auckland!).

Krystle, you will be so missed, and while we are heartbroken we won’t get to spend many more years with you, you will always be a part of the D*List whānau. Moe mai rā, e hoa.