Lisa is Regional Education Leader | Kaiārahi Matauranga ā-Rohe for Wellington |Te Whanganui A Tara. She is also a lecturer | kaiako.
Born into an urban Māori family, the only girl with three older brothers; I was privileged. I grew up in high socioeconomic areas, in the capital city of New Zealand. I do not remember there being many other Māori living in either of the two suburbs I was raised in.
My father is Māori, my mother is Pākehā. I learnt very early on, certainly throughout my primary school days, that being Māori was not something one aspired to. Māori were dishonest, Māori were dumb, Māori were no good.
Of course, these were not the messages from my loving mother and father, but this was the message delivered (overtly and covertly) to my brothers and me, from society, in the media, and from our Pākehā peers.
Racism toward Māori was both explicit and subliminal; and it permeated our society. My instinct told me society’s messages were wrong, but nobody else did. It would be many years before I discovered there were others out there who understood the effects of colonisation and racism, and many years more, before I found the courage to be able to voice the deeply held suspicions of my youth.
That’s okay, we were quick learners. We took our father’s eternal encouragement, and we followed our father’s strong example—and we assimilated. If we were to be successful in this world, we needed to be Pākehā. So, that’s what we did.
We blended, we merged, we learnt good English. Hardman (2018) tells us that “Māori were keen students” (p. 13). And just like our ancestors, we were. We worked hard at school. We worked hard at being accepted in our Pākehā society. We achieved. We were successful. We were just like everyone else (‘everyone else’ meaning the ‘dominant culture’). Except we weren’t. We never were.
The funny thing about being Māori though, is that you cannot not be Māori. This is probably especially so, for those of us who remain living and connected to our whenua. Who and what we are is inherent in us; it is passed down to us by our ancestors. There is no escaping our taha Māori, successful colonisation or not.
For my father, this happened when he left the Defence Force. He started re-learning the reo, that had been ‘rapped’ (of the knuckles) out of him at school. He started attending noho marae. He began working in social services; supporting unemployed (mainly Māori) youth into study or employment, and in the early 80s he became a Kaiako at one of the early Kōhanga reo.
"Ko taku reo taku ohooho, ko taku reo taku māpihi maurea"
"My language is my awakening, my language is the window to my soul."
For me, it was when I had my very own Māori children. My feeling mirrors Dell’s (2016) sentiment that everybody in life is searching for the mother’s milk, the ūkaipō; that we are struggling, searching for ways to re-create that feeling of security, safety, and warmth as if an infant in a mother’s arms.
When I became a mother, an overwhelming sense of my personal search for ūkaipō sat alongside providing, ensuring and maintaining my children’s sense of ūkaipō — the two things were connected, as all things are.
"Poipoia te kakano kia puawai — Nurture the seed and it will blossom."
I started learning te reo while raising my children. I began connecting with people who shared my whakaaro. By now, I knew I had assimilated into the dominant culture. But I also knew that I had been colonised. And, I knew that my deeply held suspicions about being colonised, and about racism, were correct. I discovered more and more people who knew these things too.
I wanted to give to my children and family, so I returned to university to complete a Graduate Diploma of Teaching (ECE). I found more people. And in the academic literature presented to us, I found yet more people.
There were correlations in the learning undertaken as an adult, and te reo Māori me ona tikanga learnings from my childhood. The correlations can be expressed using the cultural competencies found in Tātaiako, a joint publication by New Zealand’s Education Council and Ministry of Education (2011).
- Whanaungatanga — This concept was known to me as a child. It was whānau being of the utmost importance; my relationships with whānau me tangata being the most important thing in the world. He aha te mea nui o tēnei ao? He tangata, he tangata, he tangata.
- Tangata whenuatanga — This concept was known to me as a child. It was holding my father’s hand as we walked our local maunga. It was diving for paua with my father and brothers in our moana. It was taking my tupuna home and returning them to their ūkaipō. My ūkaipō.
- Manaakitanga — This concept was known to me as a child. It was the aroha me awhi me tautoko given to me, and which I was encouraged to give to others. It was the kindness afforded me which I offer to others.
- Ako — This concept was known to me as a child. It was attending noho and hearing my father’s and others’ whaikōrero. It was being at kōhanga with him; hearing, learning and speaking te reo alongside him.
Correlations were also found in the following principles of the early childhood curriculum document, Te whāriki, (Ministry of Education, 2017).
- Whakamana — This concept was known to me as a child. It was inspiration from my tīpuna and mātua who were famous leaders, elite soldiers, and athletes. It was being encouraged to follow in their footsteps and reach for the stars. Whāia te iti kahurangi ki te tūohu koe me he maunga teitei — seek the treasure you value most dearly; should you bow your head, let it be to a lofty mountain.
- Kotahitanga — This concept was known to me as a child. It was knowing of the holistic nature, the connectedness, of all things. It was inherent, and inherited. Ko au te whenua, te whenua ko au — I am the land, the land is me.
I rediscovered these concepts in adult education, but I learnt them in early childhood. I learnt them because I am Māori.
Ko wai au?
He Māori ahau.
You can find more of these stories in our free downloadable book Tōku Anō Reo Māori: My Very Own Language.
Rārangi Pukapuka | Reference List
- Dell, K. (2016). Whenua ūkaipo: Returning to the mother. https://kupumamae. com/2016/07/05/whenua-ukaipo-returning-to-the-mother/
- Hardman, A. (2018). Literature review: Perceptions of the health of the Māori language 2015. Te Puni Kōkiri.
- Ministry of Education. (2017). Te Whāriki: He whāriki mātauranga mō ngā mokopuna o Aotearoa: Early childhood curriculum.
- New Zealand Teachers Council and Ministry of Education (2011). Tātaiako: Cultural competencies for teacher of Māori learners.