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Issue 19, 2017

Issue 19

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News

  • Tiakina te Moana

  • Māori “Moana”

  • Ngā Whakataetae Manu Kōrero

  • New name for Te Kōkī

  • “What The Cheque?” — Racism Accusations at Credit Union Central

  • Prisoner Voting Rights Debate and Panel at Wikitoria

  • Features

  • FLAGCROP

    White Bread in the Hāngī

    – SPONSORED – Nā Monika Maxwell, Ngāi Tūhoe, Ngāti Aerana   I am awful when it comes to starting a project, notoriously so. I’m the person you tag in memes about procrastinating, the person who smiles blankly when you ask how their essays going, and the person who eases your anxiety by ensuring you that you’re […]

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  • WHITE

    Don’t Let Them Fool You

    – SPONSORED – Nā Te Nia Matthews, Ngāi Tūhoe   In beginning this piece, I had two questions put forward to me. The first was whether I saw myself as Māori first or as a New Zealander. 1000 per cent I see myself as being Māori first. However, my personal view does not nullify any other […]

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  • RED

    Putting the Mana in Mana Wāhine

    – SPONSORED – Last trimester, I had the immense joy — and yes, though it was a university project, I do mean that honestly — of researching and exploring a topic that intrigued me: mana wāhine. I think the main reason it intrigued me was because I didn’t really understand what it was before I […]

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  • RED

    Where Are You From?

    – SPONSORED – Nā Tipene Kapa-Kingi, Te Aupōuri, Ngāpuhi, Waikato-Tainui, Te Whānau a Apanui     Where are you from? An innocent question. For most, there’s no deep thought process in answering. We Māori spend a lot of time internalising an answer. Given the rich history of te iwi Māori, there’s a myriad of possibilities. Mā […]

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  • WHITE

    He uri tēnei nō Hinepūkohurangi

    – SPONSORED – Nā Kahu Kutia, Ngāi Tūhoe Whakamāori nā Migoto Eria   Kohukohu ana ki te rangi Kohukohu ana ki te papa Kohukohu ana ki te ao, kohukohu ana ki te pō, Arā ngā kākahu a Hinepūkohurangi.   Kei taku kura tuatahi, ka whakaakona e rātou te whakakīngia i tō mātou pepeha. He pepa e […]

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  • BLACK

    Tiakina Tangaroa!

    – SPONSORED – Nā Awhina Henry, Ngāti Porou, Te Whānau a Apanui Whakamāori nā Jamie Yeates , Te Āti Awa, Te Pae o Rangitīkei     “Na Io matua kore a Tane Mahuta e tohutohu, ka tu ahua nei rite ki a koe, ka puta mai te wahine tuatahi. Kia tūpato kia takahi te mana o ngā […]

    by

  • FLAGCROP

    White Bread in the Hāngī

    – SPONSORED – Nā Monika Maxwell, Ngāi Tūhoe, Ngāti Aerana   I am awful when it comes to starting a project, notoriously so. I’m the person you tag in memes about procrastinating, the person who smiles blankly when you ask how their essays going, and the person who eases your anxiety by ensuring you that you’re […]

    by

  • WHITE

    Don’t Let Them Fool You

    – SPONSORED – Nā Te Nia Matthews, Ngāi Tūhoe   In beginning this piece, I had two questions put forward to me. The first was whether I saw myself as Māori first or as a New Zealander. 1000 per cent I see myself as being Māori first. However, my personal view does not nullify any other […]

    by

  • RED

    Putting the Mana in Mana Wāhine

    – SPONSORED – Last trimester, I had the immense joy — and yes, though it was a university project, I do mean that honestly — of researching and exploring a topic that intrigued me: mana wāhine. I think the main reason it intrigued me was because I didn’t really understand what it was before I […]

    by

  • RED

    Where Are You From?

    – SPONSORED – Nā Tipene Kapa-Kingi, Te Aupōuri, Ngāpuhi, Waikato-Tainui, Te Whānau a Apanui     Where are you from? An innocent question. For most, there’s no deep thought process in answering. We Māori spend a lot of time internalising an answer. Given the rich history of te iwi Māori, there’s a myriad of possibilities. Mā […]

    by

  • WHITE

    He uri tēnei nō Hinepūkohurangi

    – SPONSORED – Nā Kahu Kutia, Ngāi Tūhoe Whakamāori nā Migoto Eria   Kohukohu ana ki te rangi Kohukohu ana ki te papa Kohukohu ana ki te ao, kohukohu ana ki te pō, Arā ngā kākahu a Hinepūkohurangi.   Kei taku kura tuatahi, ka whakaakona e rātou te whakakīngia i tō mātou pepeha. He pepa e […]

    by

  • BLACK

    Tiakina Tangaroa!

    – SPONSORED – Nā Awhina Henry, Ngāti Porou, Te Whānau a Apanui Whakamāori nā Jamie Yeates , Te Āti Awa, Te Pae o Rangitīkei     “Na Io matua kore a Tane Mahuta e tohutohu, ka tu ahua nei rite ki a koe, ka puta mai te wahine tuatahi. Kia tūpato kia takahi te mana o ngā […]

    by

  • Arts and Science

  • Mahana — Lee Tamahori

    Once Were Warriors director Lee Tamahori gives an interesting portrayal of Witi Ihimaera’s 1994 award-winning novel Bulibasha: King of the Gypsies in his 2016 film Mahana. Tamahori has the ability to initiate any city dweller into daydreams of manure with his sweet cinematography of rolling green hills. He also features a handsome cast with lead roles performed by well-known Kiwi actors Temuera Morrison and Nancy Brunning as well as industry newcomer Akuhata Keefe. Told predominantly through the perspective of youngest grandson Simeon Mahana (Keefe), we are given an intimate view of the dynamics of a patriarchal Māori Whānau from the bottom of the pyramid.

    Whakahīhī — “too big for your boots, boy!” — is strewn throughout the film by Koro Tamihana Mahana (Morrison) who carves his whānau with the knife of a certain type of mana. Hard mahi and labour. Simeon, wanting to forge a path of his own mana, outsteps the tīkanga of his whanau and often finds himself at the receiving end of his koro’s erratic whip as he attempts to navigate and shift his social environment. This aspect of the film can resonate with many of us as the shift from “labourer” to “academic” still holds much relevance today. Stats from the 2013 census show that labourers are the most common occupational group for Māori. My dad is a labourer, my mum grows marijuana plants; whakahīhī, neither of them have much respect for tertiary education. Hailing from a low decile suburb where empty Woodstock cans litter the streets, having consistently negative pregnancy tests before 20 is a grand achievement.

    Nancy Brunning embodies the serene, seemingly all-knowing character of Kuia Ramona, who sits at the left hand side of her husband Tamihana. As expected in a patriarchal whānau, the women cook, clean and keep their mouths amicably shut at the dinner table. “Men fight for what they want. That’s the way of the world” is said by Kuia Ramona once she unveils the mystery behind the Mahana and Poata rivalry. I was disappointed in the complacency of both men and women. I was disappointed in how the big plot punch left no hole in the wall. Where was the outrage? It was taken and trampled on by English Common Law of the time where women and children were merely chattels to be used and abused by the paterfamilias as he saw fit.

    Overall, I was left feeling underwhelmed and a little bit disenfranchised about the state of Māoritanga as Tamahori had portrayed it. I felt the influence of a colonial world in the interactions between characters of the film. The story speaks in to a small community, but my strayed to the rife reality of racism against Maori especially given the set time period of the film. It was not until as recently as the late eighties where Te Rēo was recognized as an official language. The use of Te Rēo was heavily, sometimes forcibly discouraged from public spaces. Today still, a single Te Rēo issue in an assumedly progressive student publication once a year sparks much controversial debate.

    In spite of my reservations, the flatmate I watched Mahana with reckons that she had a “wholesome, good time”! So give it a watch, e kare (putlockers.com).

     

    –three stars out of five–

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  • Fred Graham

    Time is ever changing and we only have one chance at first encounters and yet with the lack of time there is ample opportunity to learn from them. Most Māori understand that it is one thing to meet someone new and another to meet someone from your iwi. When meeting another of your own rohe there is that unspoken alliance that comes into existence.

    A few weekends ago I had one of the most unforgettable meet and greets at the Te Waka Toi Awards, which is an annual event dedicated to celebrating others’ excellences in Māori art. I attended the event to support my partner who was receiving the Ngā Manu Pīrere Award recognising him as a promising upcoming Māori artist. It was there where I met a man of kudos and grace who happened to be from the same rolling hills of my second home and the nest of my father’s people, the great lands of Waikato. When people harvest the ahikā of Ngāi Māori fluently in their work can we really ignore the trueness of folk wisdom? There is no fraudulence in the infamous whakataukī Waikato-taniwha-rau. He piko, he taniwha. He piko, he taniwha. In him and many more from Waikato there lives a fierce taniwha in their mahi and their heart, which cannot be overpassed.

    Fred Graham is a renowned Māori artist and yet coming close to 89 years of living on Papatūānukānuku he is claimed to be one of the leading virtuosos of contemporary Māori art, and he does not stop there. In 1955 he was selected to be a part of the New Zealand Māori rugby team and he was a well-endorsed art teacher. He was not shy of sharing his connections when he talked about working alongside Tom Johnson, being a teacher to Nigel Brown, and attending teachers college beside the late Te Arikinui Dame Te Atairangikaahu. He had a deep admiration for people and paying homage to those who supported him was a natural instinct of his and I cannot forget his wife because of the honorable love he shared about her loyalty to him. She was a delicate timid and rare kuia with cherry blossom cheeks who he had praised as being the backbone to his journey. For me Graham has an ingrained presence and an undefined placidness to every word he spoke. Kāore he kōrero Māori ia engari ahakoa tēnā ka hikoia e ia ngā tāringa o te ao tūroa. Pēhea? Nā te mea ka takoto te pono o ngā kaupapa Māori ki roto i ona mahi me ona kōrero ahakoa te aha.

    The ceremony itself was fine dining, formal dress, and two wine bottles at every table. They had two huge screens to show each recipient’s short story and it caused a little ruckus between the men as they argued for one to be used for the All Blacks match, no joke. I met Graham first and his artwork last and I would not have it any other way. When Graham received his Supreme award and his story played, my hands gripped my partner’s side because I was struggling to come to terms with reality.

    At first I was embarrassed to have no knowledge of his artwork but once that feeling surpassed I was completely inundated and transformed. He was a sculptor and paid close attention to the ideology of perspectives by creating third dimensional pieces that redefined the concepts of depth and curve. The way he carved his kōrero into the pieces really brought to light the contemporary soul of te ao Māori. The tail of his taniwha wrapping around and reclaiming our forms of communication was more than a pleasure to the eye. You could classify him as an environmentalist in a way because his artwork aimed to reorganise one’s appreciation for resources. You can see his art in public spaces, art galleries, and overseas. Through his art he can reconnect people to their whenua, he can touch people as tāngata whenua, and most importantly he talks to people as Māori.

     

    Caption- Fred Graham, Tane and Tupai. 1975. Photo by Shaun Matthews.

    Fred Graham, Tane and Tupai. 1975. Photo by Shaun Matthews.

     

    Much like his artwork, Fred Graham graces you in various ways that requires the eye to look a little further than face value. Graham makes me look forward to the future because he has embraced the world in all its capacity successfully, and knowing a Māori from Waikato can conquer these extremes comforts me in the idea of growing and advancing in my years to come.

    Nō reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā tātou katoa.

     

    — Nā Te Wainuiārua Poa, Te Ātihaunui-a-Pāpārangi, Ngāti Māniapoto (Ngāti Rora), Waikato-Tainui

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  • Nā wai te momotuhi?

    churchward

     

    Joseph Churchward was born in Samoa in 1932 and is from the ‘āiga Sā Anae and the villages of Faleasi’u and Tufulele. As a child he traced curves in the sand and in 1946 he came to Wellington; two years later he received an Art Distinction Award in Lettering from Wellington Technical College.

    He passed in 2013, having designed over 570 typefaces over the course of his life which have been used all over the world. Despite living through the transition to digital type-design, Churchward argued for the superiority of hand-lettering, as a computer fails to reproduce the subtle arc of the curve. Photographed by David Bennewith, and gifted to him, Churchward’s french curves — manual tools used in the (re)production of type — were used in the design of all his typefaces.

     

    Joseph Churchward's curves. Photograph by David Bennewith, 2013

    Joseph Churchward’s curves. Photograph by David Bennewith, 2013.

     

    They traced the curls of the koru of the Churchward Māori typeface that heads this issue. While his french curves were essential to the production process, as Bennewith, also his biographer, states: “But a curve cannot completely account for the hand that operated it, as Joseph’s varied explorations of the alphabet demonstrate. I have a vivid image of the very particular way Joseph would flick his right wrist as he described a pen stroke. Sixty years earlier, this same wrist (and hand) had accidentally smashed through the glass panel of a swinging door at Wellington Technical College — a horrific end to a friendly chasing game. Joseph’s nearly severed hand was reattached to his wrist, but the tendons were permanently shortened, resulting in restricted movement in his drawing hand and a loss of feeling to parts of it.”

    The elegance of his font designs echoes the whanaungatanga that exists between Māori and our tuakana in Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa. It reflects the long time relationship with kaupapa Māori, and was created in the early 1980s during the time of the land marches. Here with this article we mihi to Joseph and his work, Te Ao Māori reflected in a tiny and unknown corner of the world.

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  • Tukua mai te reo: Ētahi whakaaro mō te pukapuka He Reo Wāhine

    When I was taught certain things about New Zealand history in high school I took them as objective truth. When they told me that Abel Tasman discovered New Zealand I absorbed that information as truth, even as my bones knew that Māori had been here long before. When my education prioritised teaching about World War One and the Vietnam War, I was not able to stop and think about the ways in which this information was relevant — or not relevant — to me, and the nuances of these histories that were unseen.

    Where are our histories preserved? In statues dedicated to Pākehā men in our parks and town squares. In stale documentaries that prioritise certain dominant voices and neglect others. We know that the media has a bias, but we are not critical of history in the same way. But history is written by humans. Last week I had a kōrero with historian Angela Wanhalla. She is of Kai Tahu descent, and has whakapapa back to Ngāti Moki marae of the Ngāi Te Ruahikihiki hapū. Her new book with Lachy Paterson brings forth a rich puna of historical knowledge that is not often talked about. That is the voice of wāhine Māori. He Reo Wāhine disrupts the narrative of our colonial history, bringing to the light the voices of our wāhine in the 19th century.

     

    ART - Book - He Reo Wahine

     

    What are your areas of interest? And what questions do you ask yourself when you’re doing your kind of research?

    A lot of my interest in history is to do with women’s history and Māori history. That goes back to my PhD which was on the history of a community who lived in a reserve on the northern banks of the Taieri River in Otago. The reason why I studied that community was because my family have a connection to it through my father, and my dad never knew very much about it. So as I was doing my PhD he got to kind of explore that part of his whakapapa in a bit more detail which was really great. It became quite clear that it was a community that was really unusual because it had a really high level of intermarriage. Through the story of intermarriage I could tell a little bit about how that community changed over time. But also it could help me think about how to make Māori women the centre of the story as well.

    One thing I find with New Zealand history is that, particularly for the colonial view of looking at the 19th century, Māori women don’t really feature very strongly in it. Often because it’s said that there aren’t any sources available to tell their stories — and by that I mean the kind of sources that historians would traditionally use. We want to think about how we might respond to an argument that’s been made that there just aren’t the sources out there. We both want to see Māori women’s history, but also Māori writing from the 19th century be two central features.

     

    I’ve heard that as an indigenous people, we have the greatest written record of our language because of things like letters in archives. This is information that we can’t really use properly because of the volume of it. In writing this book, what was your encounter with that archive?

    There is a huge, rich, wonderful archive of Māori writing available. That’s through things like the Māori language newspapers from the 19th century — which Lachy Paterson has written a book about. There are also, as you mentioned, a huge number of letters available. Many of those have been sent to colonial officials, so Archives NZ and their branches across the country do hold a number of wonderful Māori language materials in their archives. You’ve got Māori sending huge numbers of letters to officials. Sometimes as friends, but often to complain about injustices. There are also lots of petitions that Māori send to the government during the 19th century — I think in total there are over 2000 petitions and they are a wonderful resource for exploring Māori collective protest. Māori women just loved sending letters to each other, and they could see how letters in particular fitted really beautifully within oral culture. Also, many Māori wrote manuscripts, and a number of those are lodged in archives as well. There’s a huge wealth of material out there that historians can work with but, because quite a lot of it is in Te Reo Māori, not a lot of historians are making use of it.

     

    I saw a quote from the book — Do not think that this letter is from a man. No, I am a woman who wrote this letter. (Kataraina Kahuwahine). Do you think that the resources you encountered challenge the narrative of what we are told about Māori women in the 19th century?

    Like you, I really like that quote because it indicates that often we assume that people who are writing in the 19th century are men. It shows from that woman’s perspective that she didn’t want a colonial official to simply see this as a man’s voice or perspective. Māori women were as interested in the effects of land loss on their community as men were. What I think our book shows is that Māori women are deeply engaged, and they had a perspective and a voice. They were willing to engage with the state as much as they possibly could to register those injustices at the feet of colonial officials. I am just so amazed at the amount of material that’s out there in the archives, showcasing Māori women’s abilities to politically organise and to engage with the state and try and gain some justice during that period.

     

    What is something that you found particularly exciting to write about?

    What is most exciting about this book is that there is a wealth of material from Māori women out there that Māori women wrote. I think that’s really important in terms of how we might tackle colonial history. What it also does, is help us understand how big histories like colonisation and capitalism — those big drivers of change — also affect people at the most personal level. We get to hear Māori women say that and say how they experience the effects of colonialism in their communities. It’s also bringing in slightly different communities that we don’t always hear about in history books. One of them is Taumutu, near Lake Ellesmere, and that’s where my family connect to. What was really exciting for me on a personal level was to see that women from that community were writing and petitioning and they feature in the chapter that’s focused on petitions. Often in histories we write, we don’t often see those little communities at the forefront.

     

    What is the importance for you (as a Māori woman) of writing books like this, of bringing these materials to light? Why do this work?

    As a Māori woman, but also as a historian, I’m really passionate about telling histories that matter to people. I think the stories that are in He Reo Wāhine will matter to a lot of people because they will see their tūpuna there and they’ll see the people that they can really admire represented in this book. I want to write histories where my father can recognise himself in it and he can recognise his family. Where my brother and sister can recognise themselves too. I think that historians have to do our best to actually represent the diversity of the past in the present day, as much as we possibly can. Because if we don’t, we effectively exclude people from history. And I don’t want to write histories that exclude. That’s why He Reo Wāhine exists.

    We often have particular narratives that are quite strong in our history. I am influenced by the work of Aroha Harris, Atholl Anderson, Judith Binney — all those wonderful historians. They’re the people who I admire greatly. I want to write histories like them that challenge some of those deeply held narratives that we have. Those narratives that make assumptions about New Zealand having a racially harmonious past when that’s clearly not the case! Challenging narratives and making people uncomfortable is what historians should be doing.

     

    Why do you think the women that are doing these petitions, writing these letters to officials, aren’t remembered or aren’t known about?

    I think they are remembered in their communities and in their families. They just haven’t been foregrounded as much as they possibly could in our written histories.We’ve seen that kind of trend here where New Zealand history wasn’t at all of interest to New Zealanders. It wasn’t a part of the academy until around the 1950s and 1960s. The history that New Zealanders read and got taught at school was British history, the history of other places, not the history of us. There’s been this kind of remarkable shift in the last 70 years where we’ve produced our own academic scholarship that explains why this place and our people and our history is really important and exciting and interesting. In the 1970s and 1980s feminist scholars were coming to the floor; also, at the same time, we’ve got the growth of Māori history where Māori historians were also saying the same thing — we need to look at Māori history too. What we have seen in the last 15–20 years is that there is now recognition of the wonderful rich resources out there that are available. That includes work by Māori, and also Māori women. We tell the history of war, as a major event in people’s lives. Those kinds of histories tend to be more prominent too.

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  • The Night Mechanics

    Māori theatre is among the rarest areas of theatre that an amateur student, such as myself, comes across. Currently I am pursuing the ultimate goal of becoming an actress, within the means and ways of Victoria University’s theatre department — means and ways that have room for considerable improvement to include more Māori and Pasifika kōrero. It was a privilege and a non-negotiable opportunity to partake in the audience experience of watching the preview of a Māori play recently.

    New Zealand playwright Mīria George’s The Night Mechanics mixes theatrical forms — comedy and drama — with the hearts of young diverse actors, passionate about Māori worldview and deep issues relevant to society today. The play was held in the comfortable Heyday Dome of Bats Theatre (the nurturing place for new NZ performances) amidst a unique yet simple set design. At first glance I was expecting the play to rattle my Māori taringa with the classic speech and dialogue I’d usually hear in theatre, however I was pleasantly surprised and highly appreciative of the plentiful use of te reo Māori with careful pronunciation from all the actors.

    George has artistically highlighted the reality of the long-term effects of climate change and global warming, and stresses the importance of tino rangatiratanga, iwi, whānau, hapū, and kaitiakitanga. Water is extremely scarce in a somewhat post-apocalyptic NZ where the heat is unbearable and an impoverished people desperately fight for survival day upon day. Rivers are no longer a delicacy, springs have dried up, and the ocean, a distant memory. Thriving wahine toa, Hine, is up against “The Water Company” — a villainous, powerful corporation that has taken control over water supplies throughout the whenua. Hine forms a bond with a woman who does not belong anywhere, and rekindles a relationship with her self-appointed mayor of a brother, to fight for what belongs to their people, te tangata o Aotearoa. Desperate to uphold the legacy her matua left behind, and with the long coming help of a traitorous preacher, hot headed Hine stands up to the grotesque Darren — the man in charge at The Water Company headquarters — and brawls him for tino rangatiratanga.

    Each actor executes the uniqueness of their character with enticing energy and intensity that takes your imagination far away from the four walls of the Heyday Dome, finding yourself on the hot grounds of Hine’s home. George has worked hard to compose a beautiful ensemble between the actors, every transition of scenes is smooth, and no one leaves the stage the entire time.

     

    ART - Theatre - Caption- Night Mechanics. 2017. Meg Mann.

    Night Mechanics. 2017. Meg Mann.

     

    There is a diverse range of ethnicities of the actors cast in the play, five to be specific, made up of Māori, Samoan, Sri Lankan, Cambodian, and Malaysian. Considering The Night Mechanics is a Māori play, it is realistic that the cast is mostly brown. I think that this (and I always do) is helpful for the audience’s visual connection — in addition to some of the costume design that really portrays the definition of a mechanic, a post-apocalyptic “Māori mechanic”. Alongside the magical and transformative impact ethnicity and costume can create, the set design is beautifully simplistic, giving balance to an intense use of lighting.

    My initial reaction to The Night Mechanics is YES! More light needs to be shone on the deep issues this play addresses. The play is clearly influenced by the world, the Aotearoa we live in today — fighting for clean rivers, oceans, and tino rangatiratanga. George stresses the continuous impacts of colonisation on Māori — my people, the loss of identity as one people, as iwi, hapū, and whānau; mass industrialisation upon our precious papatūānuku and tangaroa, rampant impoverishment, but especially the loss of our tino rangatiratanga. As the actors agreed in a post-performance discussion, at this rate, we really are heading towards a future just like that of the night mechanics. Climate change is legit! It’s also legit being educated about it too. So do your research. Did you know that by 2050 there is going to be more plastic in the oceans than fish?! Appalling.

    As a Māori theatre student who likes to think she’s quite “woke”, I encourage my fellow tauira to go see this unique performance, engage in the issues, and continue to spark conversations waking everyone else up. Especially those of you who identify as non-Pakehā and are looking for a place in the theatre industry, there are other styles of theatre besides classical theatre, like Māori theatre — and Māori are natural performers, everyone knows that.

     

    — Nā Lateshia Marie McFarlane, Ngāti Porou

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  • Nō raro tonu te mana

    Nō te uho o te ngahere i wehe atu te mata o Mumuwhango

    tōna mana whenua i muri tonu i a ia.

    Auē te kaha o te karanga i pā katoa ai i a ia,

    pō iho, ao ake. Tē taea te wareware.

     

    Ahakoa tonu, te pora hoki o tōna kite whakamua.

    He wātea wīti e takoto noa atu ana,

    ngoikore katoa te tū, āna, kai a Tāwhirimātea te rangatiratanga.

    “Kai hea ngā tamariki a Tāne? Kai hea ōku hoa piritahi?”

    Kāore anō te mokemoke e pā ana ki a ia,

    wiriwiri kau ana te wairua,

    he waipuke kai ōna kamo,

    tōna kī whakamutunga,

    “e noho rā taku whenua.”

     

    I haere tōtika ia,

    tae noa ki te ngaro o tōna whare koroua.

    Kai tua rawa he wāhi mōna, kua mōhio.

    Warea kē ia e te karanga e tōia atu nei

    kia kohia, kia kaingia ngā hua ō ngā rākau rerekē;

    kia pātaka tōna oranga.

     

    Nawai rā, nāwai rā, ā,

    kāore tonu ia e rongo ana i a Tāne

    kai tata ia, kai wīwī, kai wāwā rānei, ko wai ka mōhio?

    Ko Tāwhirimatea anahe ka kite.

    He mamae tō tōna tinana, nā

    ki te poho o te wātea e noho ana.

     

    Kātahi, pā katoa anō taua karanga ki a ia.

    Hunaia e te awhi o te witi, huri whakararo tōna rae hongi ai i te whenua.

    Noho tahi mai rātau ko Papa ko Tāne,

    kia kitea ai ngā pū o Tāne i raro i te wātea

    nō tōna mana whenua,

    ki te wāhi e tū ana ia,

    ki te ngahere kai korā.

     

    I muri tata tonu mai

    kotahi tonu tana ki mua.

    Ahakoa rā tē kitea te ngahere kai tua atu

    ko nāia tonu e mahara ana ia

    nō raro tonu te mana.

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  • Pātai mai ki a Aunty: Hauora Edition

    Wāhine mā, let’s take a little haerenga down a hauora path and answer some pātai that many of us wāhine ask when starting the journey down this huarahi.

     

    1. I want to start getting into regular physical activities but I don’t know where to start. I want to start going to the gym but I don’t know what to do there or how to use any of the machines. What do I do? Where and how did you start your hauora journey?

    TIP: Move your body to create energy.

    Any little movement is better than nothing. I te tīmatanga o tōku haerenga i runga i tēnei huarahi o te hauora, I started off with a good old fun game of netipōro ki te taha o Ngāi Tauira ia wiki. I used netball to ease my way back into physical activities. However, after a while netball wasn’t enough. It didn’t challenge me like it first did, so I then moved into the big world of the GYM.

    When I first started at the whare hākinakina I had NO IDEA what I was upto! I just stuck to the good old treadmill and bike because that’s all I knew — it was my comfort zone. After a while I started getting bored and hoha so I decided to make the pīki whara move upstairs ki te ao o ngā WEIGHTS. Still having no idea what to do i tahuri au ki ōku tino hoa a Youtube me ōku ake hoa. I started watching videos of people’s workouts and began copying. YouTube has so many variations on how to use a machine and a range of workout routines for beginners. I also turned to the people around me for help. There is almost always one person you know that can help you out, all you have to do is pātai.

    So, ko tāku ki ā koe find something you are interested in or something you once did (like netipōro) and get back into it, even if it’s just once ia wiki — it’s still an activity. Kimi i tētahi mea that challenges you and take it on. When that activity no longer challenges you, up your game or move on. Kimi i tētahi mea hou that challenges you, and so on.

    DON’T BE SCARED TO STEP OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE — YOU WILL FIND THAT THE BEST THINGS ARE OUTSIDE YOUR “ZONE”.

     

    1. I go to the gym and see all these amazing looking wāhine in shape, skinny, fit, and muscly. I sit there with jealousy running through me. I want to be just like them, but I am nowhere near their physique which then leads to me feeling shamed and not wanting to workout. How do I overcome this feeling?

    TIP: Use that jealousy to drive you. Let jealousy better you, don’t let it be the better of you!

    That jealousy that you are holding on to, hold it tight cause it’s what’s gonna get you there in the end. Every time you see those girls tells yourself “myself, I want to look like that, so I am going to look that!” and then work your aaa off to become “that” kōtiro. You ain’t gonna get anywhere if you let your NEGATIVE attitude be the better of you. Take something NEGATIVE and turn that shiz into a POSITIVE!

     

    Hauora is not just a physical thing, it is also and equally a mental thing.

    Me tiaki koe i tō taha Hinengaro hoki.

    1. Don’t be afraid to be alone — Take time out for yourself every once in awhile. Isolation = Relaxation and Recovery, it allows for time to think your own thoughts without the opinions and influence of others. It allows you the time to reflect on yourself and your surroundings.
    2. Be yourself — Don’t lose sight of yourself. You are in control of your own life, mind, and body — NO one else.
    3. Respect yourself — Be HAPPY, enjoy what you do! Appreciate yourself and the journey you are on, “it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey and the things you learn along the way.”

     

    Remember: it’s not a competition, go at your own pace and what you feel comfortable doing, but make it worth your time and effort.

     

    YOU CAN MAKE EXCUSES OR YOU CAN MAKE A CHANGE! CHOOSE YOUR HARD.

    — Nā Cece Wallace, Ngāti Ruanui, Ngā Rouru, Ngāti Tuwharetoa, Ngāti Kahungunu

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  • About the Author ()

    Salient is a magazine. Salient is a website. Salient is an institution founded in 1938 to cater to the whim and fancy of students of Victoria University. We are partly funded by VUWSA and partly by gold bullion that was discovered under a pile of old Salients from the 40's. Salient welcomes your participation in debate on all the issues that we present to you, and if you're a student of Victoria University then you're more than welcome to drop in and have tea and scones with the contributors of this little rag in our little hideaway that overlooks Wellington.

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