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Stepping into te ao Māori

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Wātaka

Wātaka

Maihi Barber (Ngāpuhi) welcomes manuhiri at a pōwhiri at Te Āwhina marae.

Francis Tīpene, one of the funeral directors on the New Zealand television series ‘The Casketeers’ was in a recent interview on Radio New Zealand to discuss his new book, Life as a Casketeer. He said that most Māori families in Aotearoa, in fact perhaps as many as 99 per cent, prefer an open casket for the tangihanga of their loved ones.

This came as a surprise to interviewer Kim Hill, who had led into this conversation by sharing her own fact, that perhaps as few as 5 per cent of families choose an open casket when organising the funeral of a family member. That statistic was given, as so many statistics are in the New Zealand media, as though it holds true for all New Zealanders – as if the majority sets the bar for the rest of us.

As I listened to the interview and nodded in agreement at what Francis and his wife Kaiora talked about – everything from the importance of tikanga in the tangihanga process to the value of including children in our rituals and the grieving process – it struck me that those of us who live and work in the Māori world tend to take this knowledge for granted. Yet, many Pākehā in our country have little, if any, knowledge about our tikanga, our beliefs and practices; in essence, they have no idea who we are or why we do the things we do.

KERENSA JOHNSTON

At Waitangi this year, there was an acknowledgement of this, with politicians and commentators saying that for too long Māori have had to step into the Pākehā world. We’ve had no choice about this because of the pervasive impact of colonisation on every aspect of our lives. We understand the rules of engagement, the values and principles that underpin te ao Pākehā because it has been part of us for so long. The call at Waitangi this year was that it is time for Pākehā to learn about te ao Māori, the Māori world.

When I was growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, most of the Pākehā I came across, outside of my immediate family, had no interest in or understanding of te ao Māori. If something was

happening in te ao Māori, if they thought about it at all, it happened on the periphery; it had no relevance to their daily lives. Growing up in the heart of Ngāti Awa and Tuhoe country, I was caught off guard when a Pākehā friend, born and raised in Whakatāne, asked me for the name of the local iwi. It seemed a basic fact to me but it had passed her by completely. What saved me that year, my last year at secondary school, was a traditional, Pākehā history teacher. A man ahead of his time, he refused to teach Elizabethan history to students in Aotearoa. Instead, he prescribed texts such as Claudia Orange’s The Treaty of Waitangi and made us watch films about issues such as the 1981 Springbok Tour.

And yet, times are changing, and they are changing for the better.

More tourists and immigrants coming to Aotearoa learn te reo Māori, spend time on our marae and in our communities and make active attempts to learn and be part of Māori life. Although many Pākehā I have met have never been to the marae in their hometown or have only a cursory knowledge of the iwi and hapū in their region, more Pākehā are appreciating that their identity as New Zealanders, their sense of humour, kindness, generosity and practicality owes something to their relationship with Māori. That those same characteristics and values are deeply embedded in te ao Māori.

We share a similar but, in some important respects, different relationship to our whenua and water, for example, including our fiercely held belief that it must be looked after for generations of mokopuna to come. In many ways, Māori and Pākehā are different sides of the same coin. Pākehā identity derives from the recognition of Māori identity, which in turn requires a recognition of Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the constitutional blueprint it established, which enables Māori and Pākehā to live peacefully here in partnership.

If you are a Pākehā, describing yourself as ‘Pākehā’ instead of a ‘Kiwi’ or worse, a ‘European’ is a political and wholly positive act because it affirms the existence and authority of Māori as the indigenous people of our country and the importance of Te Tiriti and the bicultural relationship. In the last 10 years, there has been a growing understanding that the wellbeing of our country depends on the strength of our relationships with each other. When these are strong, we can better manage other relationships as others come here in the future.

At the heart of this relationship is Te Tiriti o Waitangi, debated over and signed by over 500 rangatira on behalf of their hapū. It is the authoritative text according to international law and, in particular, the rule of contra preferendum, which holds that a treaty must be interpreted in favour of the indigenous signatories.

It’s our responsibility as New Zealanders, regardless of our cultural background and identity, to engage with Te Tiriti in order to understand its significance and the role it plays in underpinning our constitutional foundations. Those foundations are not nearly strong enough yet. This is largely because the Crown has still failed to grapple with genuine Tiriti-driven reform of our legal, political and economic structures in a way that places Māori and Pākehā power sharing and decision making at the heart of that reform.

All over the Western world, communities are struggling with the current political and economic order. It has led to the climate crisis, poor physical and mental health, poverty, and growing economic inequality and instability, particularly for indigenous communities. Here in Aotearoa we have an answer: a political and economic system founded on principles such as rangatiratanga,

manaakitanga and kaitiakitanga, and a tikanga-led approach to the management and oversight of our communities, whenua, water and other taonga. At the celebrations at Waitangi this year, Marama Davidson, co-leader of the Green Party, reminded us that ‘Te Tiriti is the founding document for New Zealand’, a statement which places a Māori understanding of Te Tiriti front and centre. In stark contrast, the leader of the National Party, Simon Bridges, reiterated that, according to the National Party view of the world, ‘. . . there may be a time when the Waitangi Tribunal becomes redundant’; and with respect to Māori claims to rangatiratanga over taonga such as water, ‘we are not going to have a situation where Māori or iwi own the water’. So, in other words, notions of co-governance, genuine partnership models and shared sovereignty as envisioned by Te Tiriti will not be entertained by them.

In the conversations that followed on Waitangi Day 2020, we were reminded that 2019 began with Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern promising a year of delivery – presumably for Māori as well as all New Zealanders. Minister Kelvin Davis reinforced this in his Waitangi kōrero: ‘This government takes seriously its obligation to Māori . . . and [it] is working in a real Treaty-based way.’ Really? In the context of the prison reform and Māori land reform underway, this is probably fair. But, there is a long list of matters that are indicators of a poor Treaty relationship, which need to be addressed.

At the time of writing, a resolution for the whānau at Ihumātao seems close. Yet, the problems with Oranga Tamariki reflect the deep institutional racism that still exists to a greater or lesser extent across all government institutions in New Zealand. A real change to organisational culture across government entities is needed to address this deep and age-old problem, and the ministers and senior officials across their organisations must lead this. For Māori throughout the country, issues such as poverty, the health of our waterways, the use and allocation of water, inequity in health treatment and outcomes, inadequate or lack of housing and unacceptable outcomes in education (all of which speaks to institutional racism) are front of mind and will be important concerns in this election. These are issues which are symptoms of the bigger problem – that is, the need to engage with Te Tiriti and ensure that our constitutional foundations fully reflect its meaning. From there we can start to build a political and economic system which better reflects the values, principles and practices of te ao Māori and te ao Pākehā.

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