Te Reo Survives in a Holstile Place

Haare Williams responds to the question, “Do I have to speak te reo?”  He says, “No.  But, like learning another language, it helps to develop important relationships with people you want to be with”.

To say, ‘I love words’, is to say, ‘I love people.’  From words and from people you learn and grow.  Other people give you words in a delightful way, so you use words.  Words capture the essence of what another is thinking.  He and She love words too.

From earliest contacts, Pakeha settlers had to quickly learn te reo for reasons of security, survival and for building firm foundations with tangata whenua. 

By the 1820s and 30s, The Bible translated became a tool for ‘education’ amongst Maori.  The potency of literacy was seen as some kind of magic.  As early as 1832, missionaries estimated that literacy amongst Maori at around 30 precent was quickly catching up with that of settlers at 48%.  By 1835, our two nations entered the spirit of a treaty declaration to build a new colony together, one in which two languages confirmed status and equality. 

As a kid who grew up without English, yet quickly learned to love new sounds and rhythms.  I grew up under the spell of the spoken word, in the Bible, on the marae, in waiata and whai korero, and in old Tuhoe manuscripts I read to grandparents Rimaha and Wairemana.  I knew that the spoken word was sacred to them because through it the wisdom of my ancestors is preserved and communicated. 

I learned that words captured the elegance, the beauty and power of thought.  That speech is an act of rebirth bringing the past into the present.  Words can calm, cajole, or they can inflame with wrath.  I learned that words will always carry wit, wisdom and intelligence. 

Throughout Maoridom the spoken word is held sacred because through it the wisdom of the ancestors is preserved and communicated; therefore oratory is revered, admired, to be protected (tapu).  An orator’s task is to catch the elegance, the beauty, the power of thought and make it objective in our world.


Words are about people – you can’t talk to yourself.


The Waitangi Tribunal has found that the Crown has breached the principles of the Treaty, and
that Te Reo has suffered severe prejudice as a result of the Crown’s actions and omissions.

 Our cultures are intimately interwoven with language into our landscape.  Our schools curricular, the media, government institutions are not merely acknowledging te reo, but using it meaningfully. There are many cultural crossovers in language and life styles. Maori idioms are being translated into English and used sensitively.  Maori words are used increasingly in common discourse.  Some words sit easily with Pakeha ideas, others add a different dimension in discourse; and yet there are ideas which may be better in dealing with some of the ills in our society such as dealing with dying, death, grief and healing.  But, relative judgement is unimportant compared to a willingness to acknowledge and accept difference. 

I asked a group, “Why are you learning te reo?

 “… It’s the official language of Aotearoa New Zealand.”

“Learning te reo is my way of redressing some of the cruel treatment te reo has received at the hands of the education system.”

“… it’s the key that enables me to reflect on our bicultural heritage and origins.”

 “… its a way to be a better informed New Zealander; knowing who I am as a new settler here and gaining insights into the history of my new country.”

 “… it’s my way to thank people who are bilingual, which shows us a way to understanding biculturalism and multiculturalism.”

“… what I wanted to do; I didn’t really believe that I would get the chance to learn te reo.”

 “… it’s to do with respect for te reo, leadership and setting a model for all staff to follow.”

“… it’s a beautiful language.”

 “Learning te reo gives me a sense of the sacred about our land; ‘tangata whenua – people of the land’.”

“The opportunity to learn te reo empowers me as a New Zealander living in this unique cultural, natural and historical setting within a thriving and dynamic society.”

 “… it helps me understand things and hopefully be a better informed New Zealander.  I’m from Canada.”

Sadly, many Pakeha New Zealanders still see Te Reo of no use, language as strictly utilitarian – like a spade or a cash register.  They claim that they should learn Japanese, Chinese, French, German or some other language they can do business in.

 My point is that young New Zealanders would be able to learn those languages with more enthusiasm and facility were they given the opportunity to grow up working comfortably in English and Maori.  There has existed a kind of linguistic imperialism in New Zealand.  This is much more dangerous that economic domination because our Te Reo is our soul.

Are we missing the opportunity to make coming generations of New Zealanders multilingual by not using language successfully taught in Kohanga Reo (Te Reo nests) techniques to teach resurgent Maori to all pupils in primary schools?  With the knowledge of two languages New Zealanders would more readily learn another and other languages.  A subsidiary spin off would be a richer texture of our cultures, with more stories available from Maori sources and an expanded consciousness with echoes of meaning from a plethora of Maori words and names.

Education is structurally transforming and emancipating. Wananga provided second chance education at tertiary level and provide iwi with an education that met local, cultural and Te Reo interests.  It isn’t just language at risk here, but personal identity.  This cycle of alienation, as we have seen in intergenerational, cultural deprivation is difficult to break and costly to maintain.

There is little doubt that New Zealanders possess an important literary heritage in karakia (ritual chants), tauparapara (watch alarms), waiata (song poetry), karanga (keening calls), oriori (lullaby), and others whose verbal and imaginative power, control and rhythmic strength make them formidable rivals for English prose and verse.  The integration of these notions into the New Zealand poetic tradition means a considerable enrichment of dual traditions.

What we are talking about here is unity in difference. I do not ask you abandon your convictions, nor ideologies, but neither do I have any intention of being hemmed in by my values. That would result in intellectual impoverishment, for it would mean rejecting a powerful source of development – the exchange of everything original and rich that each of us has, as vibrant nation independently created. Today I see a paradigm shift that is encouraging.  A Japanese scholar learning Te Reo once told me, “To be monolingual is to know only one universe.”  There are today about 68,000 non-Maori learning te reo.  I commend the taonga (the jewel of the soul) of Te Reo beyond Maori Language Week. 

Kia kaha, kai toa, kia maia, kia manawanui, kia mataara.  (be strong, be a champion, show resolve, stay the journey, be awake).

 

So, when you are learning, try something new. Try listening. And speaking.

Not the Price

Haare Williams of Tuhoe believes that this week we saw the emergence of a hero, the Land Rights Negotiator, Tamati Kruger whose temperate approach has inspired a nation …

Tamati Kruger - APN Media

Ko te tangata whai i nga tipu o te ora, koina te tohu Mana Motuhake

This week our nation saw a hero emerge in the stature of Tamati Kruger, the Tuhoe Land Rights Negotiator.  He will be remembered like Parekura Horomia, for his assertive but temperate approach in the face of a long and protracted trail of betrayal by the state.  A month ago, I asked Kruger, “What’s the price of Settlement?”  His reply was quick but calm, “… not the price but the cost?”

“Heroes don’t live forever, but those who live without trying are forgotten.”

On a chilly Saturday morning July 24 1991, Te Whakatohea and Ngati Awa, including Wairemana Taia, great grand-daughter of Mokomoko assembled at Waiaua Marae (Opotiki) to hear Sir Douglas Graham as Minister of Justice.  It was one of the most moving moments of the post-colonial era as the minister presented the Mokomoko tribe with the deed of official pardon.  In Te Kooti and Rua Kenana we heard negative (Pakeha) constructs of Tuhoe as dissidents, who provided sanctuary for criminals in the Urewera canopy of bush, mountains and mist.

“Sorry.”  Saying that word to a parent, a sibling, a wife, a friend, a people or a nation is emancipatory.  And what about saying “Sorry”, to nature.  Yet for some, it is one of the hardest things to do.

For many, there is a problem.  For some, it is in the giving; they cannot handle it.  For others, it is the receiving.  They cannot accept it.  What about you?  We all know that apologies can heal yet no one seems prepared to put up a hand and start.  We live in a society that is prone to blame rather than take responsibility for our actions.  Actions that hurt another.  Pride too gets in the way, but sooner or later we all do something that hurt another.

Apologising is probably the healthiest, most cleansing of actions we can ever make.  So take a deep breath, phone mum, dad, a friend someone you have avoided for some time and simply say, “Sorry Mum,” I know of four where these simple words have changed their lives forever.  Confession is a charade unless it is matched with genuine action.

While there is still a cultural sniff at the work of The Waitangi Tribunal, there are many reasons why its actions be applauded as they lay the foundations for a future Aotearoa New Zealand.  The tribunal places a lot of importance on our future as a nation and the growing importance of biculturalism across a culturally diverse nation.  It is also acting as a catalyst in preparing for some dramatic social and political changes now taking place.  Te Tiriti o Waitangi-The Treaty of Waitangi agenda through the work of the tribunal holds the greatest potential for peace and justice in our own land.

Mokomoko was executed for a crime he did not commit.  A congregation of Catholic Maori women, children and elderly men were butchered by the Militia while in worship on a Sunday at Rangiaowhia near Te Awamutu in 1864. In the US, teen Karla Tucker was executed for a crime she committed a half a lifetime earlier as a drunk-sodden prostitute.  To the humanist in us, these are barbarous acts even in the American south where guns are fondled as the accoutrements of manhood, where the John Wayne swagger is a statement of manliness; they do not seem to understand that gratuitous violence and counter violence soon become the same thing.  Is this the only way to mitigate public outrage?  Where is forgiveness?  We saw forgiveness rise out of South Africa through Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu.  It happened in our own parliament this week.

Let us think of forgiveness, not as a weakness but an act of courage and strength, as a humane and decent gesture.  Let us suggest that where there is no forgiveness, there is little hope for a better society, then despair and its hoon companions of rage and violence slips easily into the vacuum.

Before healing can occur in the hearts of the aggrieved, repentance is a start that is followed by confession.  Restitution follows; a genuine attempt to restore that which has been damaged and seek justice whatever the cost.

Tuhoe have never been passive.  For over a century, they were portrayed by the state as offensive in various forms of resistance before being dispossessed by a combination of military force and the legislative power of the state.  This kind of intemperate action seemed to Maori to be convincing proof that (some) Pakeha New Zealanders can be very rabid in defense of their assimilationist agenda.  After all Tuhoe, the children of the mist they say harboured criminals and lawbreakers.

Forgiveness and redemption come when we recognise that we have the ability to empower ourselves and others by simply saying, “Sorry.”

“Tamati, is the price enough?”  Kruger replied, “$171 million for the expropriation of land, language and wellbeing?  How much is enough?” 

At the heart of our nation is a spirit of generosity, the light of redemption that Kruger is holding up above the gloom from which shines maungarongo (peace and redemption), whanaungatanga (hospitality and generosity), Kaitiakitanga (protection of our core values), and mana (authority of the partners of the treaty). 

… thank you Tamati for showing us how naked we are in the wake of a litany of betrayals.

“…those who live without trying are forgotten.” 

 

 

 

 

Matariki - Our Earth

“As a child I went into the chill of morning to greet a special group of stars to welcome Te Matahi o te Tau, The Freshness of a New Beginning.”  Haare Williams comments. 



History of Matariki - www.matarikievents.co.nz



Looking to Aotearoa New Zealand for something special?  Then look no more.  Instead, look up to the heavens and you may be blessed by a sighting of the seven stars of Pleiades - Matariki.

 

When you discover them, you’ll find something that is richly Aotearoa. Our country has changed more than some realise and getting to know that this richness is a part of change. Many corporate organisations including The Maritime Museum and The Auckland War Memorial Museum will this year highlight this event.  Why?

Not so long ago, many New Zealanders used to cringe at some aspects of our cultural heritage, especially when it came to stories like that of the taniwha, Patupaearehe and ngarara. 

The cosmic rising of Matariki set the start of the Maori New Year.  Unlike the western calendar, the Maori year was determined by the ‘Nights of the moon’ and not by the ‘Days of the month’.  The Maori seasons were read in the stars, which began and ended with the heliacal rising (or setting) of certain stars. Pleiades was the main determinant for the seasons here and in Pasifika, India, Burma and South America.  In England the group is known as “The Seven Sisters”, in Japan it’s “Subaru”.  The Greeks referred to them as Pleiades.

As a kid, I joined my koro and kuia in the chill of dawn to celebrate the signs (tohu) which heralded the Maori New Year.  When Puanga (Rigel) appeared in May, it signalled that Matariki would soon follow.  But it was the new moon that followed Matariki that marked the beginning of the Maori year. 

The rising of Puanga (Rigel) heralded the start known as, Te Matahi o te Tau,” The gift of a fresh beginning.”  The year’s beginning was not a fixed time.  It varied from year to year rather like Easter, each ‘month’ determined precisely by the night of the new moon.

Besides the rising and setting of certain constellations, there were other signs which signalled seasonal change, amongst these the flowering of plants like the kowhai, sprouting of ferns, the mating and moulting of birds’ feathers, singing of insects, and the arrival and departure of two migratory birds. 

The first night was ‘Whiro’, not a good time for anything; the sixteenth was ‘Turu’, a good time for sea foods; the twenty-eighth night was ‘Whiro’, the disappearance of the moon.  After twenty-eight nights the new moon started a new cycle.  

The seasons were believed to have a profound effect on the lives of people in their actions, moods, desires, lovemaking, ovulation, conception, contraception, birth, and helped to shape one’s destiny as in astrology.  Maori too could foretell and control weather, tides and seasons. 

Each night is named according to a particular phase of the moon and determined planting, harvesting, fishing and other activities. The moon, ever connected with water has associations with names like Tangaroa who is [1]kaitiaki of tides.  When Hinauri (The Dark Moon and sister of Maui) crossed the ocean to a far away land (Aotearoa), she married Tinirau, son of Tangaroa and made their home on Motutapu Island.

Summer and Winter solstices were personified in Hineraumati (Summer Maid) and Hinetakurua (Winter Maid) the seasonal lovers of Tamanui-te-Ra (the sun).  Daughters of Tangaroa, Winter Maid live out at sea, and Summer Maid on land.  Tamanui-te-Ra spends half the year with Hineraumati the other with Hinetakurua.

We now show less of the cultural cringe that once made us insist that England was ‘home’.  Recent interest in the Maori lunar year with the cosmic rising of Matariki has increased over the past five years.  John Campbell of TV3, ‘Campbell Live’, attributed to the constellation as; “A more appropriate celebration than Queen’s Birthday”. I note too that the Auckland Harbour Board Chair, Sir Bob Harvey is signalling that Matariki should be accepted as a national event. Piripi Haami, Far Northland leader says, “It’s time we had our own special celebrations.”  I go along with Campbell, Sir Bob, and Haami. 

Isn’t it time we pensioned-off the tired old celebrations that had their roots in another hemisphere and a heaven that few believe in. Pension-off Queen’s Birthday, and instead celebrate the Maori New Year, an event indigenous to us, which happens around the same time. Matariki speaks to us of home and of a natural order and, unlike the monarchy, it’s readily accessible. 

In 2003, the new moon rose on 20 June.  In 2007 on Sunday 20 June and last year (2012) on Sunday 22 June coinciding exactly with the winter solstice.

We should all be honest and say that December 25 is no longer a Christian festival.  It is a riotous mid-summer end-of-year commercial orgy.  Of course Christ should be in Christmas, but Christmas is out of place here in our summer. 

Our society can be enriched by the stories of Matariki, taniwha and other deities like Patupaearehe and Papatuanuku which sounds more like us in our own landscape. 

So, let’s have a riotous southern hemisphere mid-winter-end-of-year fest without the commercial trappings, one that sings with reminders of rebirth, spring, growth and hope; let’s all have festivals that celebrate our place with the vibrancy of spring life in our corner of Earth.

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[1] Kaitiaki ‘a watchful guardian, protection of the potentiality in all things, hence Kaitiakitanga