NGĀTITAMA KI TETAUIHU eRautaki Reo2050

THE STRATEGIC VISION FOR THE REVITALISATION OF NGĀTI TAMA KI TE TAUIHU LANGUAGE IS:

How did my learning journey begin?

My first memory of te reo has our grandfather in it. Tāmati Pawa Bailey of Te Ātiawa, came up from Motueka in the 1960’s to live with us and work in Wellington. I was two years old and I adored him. Every night after work, Papa would sit me on his knee and teach me to count, to name things and to read. Amazingly, he did this in both Māori and English. My love of te reo began way back then, for the magic of our language that opened invisible doors, and for the old ones who held the keys.

My next most vivid te reo memory was of our Dad’s mother, Te Wairaata Te Maipi Tākao. When our brother was born, a car full of Tūhoe arrived in the night to tono for him, to take him back to Te Waimana and raise him there. I remember peering out the bedroom window in the early hours before dawn. Our father had gone out to bring them in, but our grandmother wouldn’t come in until the sun rose. Nanny Rato, as they called her, didn’t speak English and we didn’t speak Māori. She could say our names and we could say hers, but no more. I was both utterly fascinated and intimidated by them. After every sentence they spoke, they laughed … all of them, every single time. That was the first time I felt wehi for te reo Māori. I was in awe of te reo and of the strange people who spoke it.

I knew then that I wanted in to that exclusive club, I just had no idea how to get there.

As a child living in Porirua in the sixties, te reo Māori was nowhere to be found.

Who has contributed most to my reo journey?

That’s a tough one, the list is very long. But I was lucky. The first one of my heroes I met when I was born.

Tiny Bailey-Tākao. Our mother was raised here in Motueka on the land beneath my wide Tūhoe feet. She didn’t grow up speaking te reo, although both her parents were fluent.

But the love of it, and of our tikanga ran deep like a river flowing through her. Our mother taught us how to BE Māori, how to stand proud in our Māori-ness. She supported unconditionally my lifelong endeavours to find my reo, to keep it, and to pass it on.

Going through her things recently, I found all her te reo books. She never became a speaker, but also never stopped trying to learn. Mum was my first and most constant reo hero.

E Mā, kia au tō moe x

Te Wairaata Tākao. My eldest daughter, born in the eighties, the times of cultural change and great upheaval. Her birth started a dream, of a world within and around her, where she could be as Māori as she wanted to. Te Wairaata was the first native speaker of our line since our father. We built one of the first kura and wharekura in Ōtaki to help realise that dream. In 1996, Te Wairaata was the youngest graduate of Te Wānanga o Raukawa at only 15 years old.

My next ‘who’ is a ‘what’. Whakatupuranga Rua Mano –Generation 2000. The 25 year vision of Whatarangi Winiata for his people of Ngāti Raukawa, Ngāti Toa and Te Ātiawa.

Hui Rangatahi, Hui Rūmaki, Te Wānanga o Raukawa, Te Kura

Mai Raro, Patumākuku, Te Reo Maioha, Te Kura Kaupapa

Māori o Te Rito, Te Kura ā-Iwi o Whakatupuranga Rua Mano and many, many more movements grew out of his singular vision. Nearly 50 years later, the lives of thousands of us have been transformed. In Ōtaki I found my ‘tribe’, the ones who like me had a fire in their bellies for te reo me ngā tikanga. They continue to inspire me every day.

Hēmi Te Peeti nō Ngāti Raukawa, my partner in crime. We fell in love with each other in the spring of 1983. We couldn’t communicate with words, because it was my first ever Hui Rūmaki Reo and I couldn’t speak Māori. Our passion for the treasures of our old people is what attracted us, to the hui and to each other. We went on to marry, raise children and dedicate that time in our lives to the revitalisation of the language, taonga, culture and traditions of our old people. Mei kore ake koe e Hēmi.

I love my kids. In spite of how rocky their roads may have been, they still chose to raise our mokopuna to speak Māori. You are my heroes. Being a Nana to mokopuna who speak Māori is unbelievably heartwarming. My reo comes alive again every time I’m with them.

Kei aku tamariki, kei aku mokopuna. Ko koutou te toitūtanga o tō tātou reo, ki anamata.

What have been the most significant challenges in mine/ my whānau’s learning journey?

My name is Ruiha Maria Tākao. These are ancestral names, with histories and power.

And yet I can’t count how many abominations of my name I have experienced over the years. Reverting to using my nickname, Nuki, came from not being able to hear one more time, Pākehā telling me what my name is. I just couldn’t do it anymore. Whatever they are saying is not my name. But I realise I am grateful to them, to every one who still corrected me after I had said my name myself. This is our common lived experience, and the fact that it still happens every day somewhere to one of our children fuels my fire.

When Hēmi and I chose to raise our children with Māori as their first language we were an anomaly … unusual, strange and weird. We were too xtra, too hundy, too radical. Sometimes our fiercest critics were not the Pākehā we expected … but our own. Those times were toughest for our children who didn’t choose the path we did, but had to walk it anyway.

Like nearly every other Māori I know who doesn’t have the reo, I tried EVERYTHING … for years and years. It was frustrating as hell! And sometimes my progress felt glacial, but it all mattered, all counted, all contributed to what and who I am now. And I guess the only thing I want to say here is never stop looking for the way that works best for you. Nōu tō reo. It is yours and it’s waiting for you.

My biggest challenge now is isolation. Moving from Ōtaki to Motueka was like moving to another country! Coming here is like starting all over again which is both humbling and inspiring. I’m not gonna lie though, I get hella lonely for my peeps, and not speaking Māori has become easier somehow. Not for that inner light though, which I feel dimming more every day.

Why is the reo so important to me, to us?

Our language is a portal to the past and the messages from our old people. Being able to step throught that door again and again has been one of the greatest joys of my life.

Our pakeke are a bridge to that old knowledge and we are forever in their debt.

When I speak in Māori, I think as Māori. I am different. I am better. I am more like them.

This is the language of our souls, imprinted on our DNA. Our language is our birthright and the very essence of our mana as Māori.

Kei ngā uri a Tama Ariki tēnā koutou, e tukuna atu aku mihi ki a koutou i roto i ngā āhuatanga o te wā, otirā ki a tātou, tēnā tātou.

I like many others of our iwi grew up disconnected from our language as a result of the past denigration of te reo Māori. I have recently began my journey to reclaim our reo and to reconnect with my Māoritanga, and while it has been difficult I can say with all surety that the benefits (ngā hua ā tinana, ā whānau, ā hinengaro, ā wairua hoki) have been immeasurable. As I look back, I feel that I always had a longing for our language as if there was something missing within me.

I have always been proud of being Māori however, it is not an easy feeling to swallow when going to different kaupapa and not being able to fully participate and ultimately feeling uncomfortable because I didn’t understand the protocols or what was being said.

Like many others despite my desire to learn te reo Māori with the business of life I could never seem to find the time to learn and so I keep putting it off and putting it off. Until Iast year I enrolled in poupou huia te reo through Te Wānanga o Raukawa.

I saw that it was offered online and could be worked through at my own pace. For me it was just what I needed to get going as it gave me a gentle introduction to learning te reo Māori that fit in with my schedule. What’s even better is that Ngāti Tama have partnered with Te Wānanga o Raukawa to offer this course (along with some other courses too) to all of us for free! Once I started learning te reo Māori my hunger