On day one of Pōkai Tuhi, I sat in a room full of people who I chronically admired—nervous, and feeling like an imposter. But my fear of not measuring up to the greatness in my midst dissipated as soon as the first joke cracked through our collectively awkward apprehension. From then on, I knew these Moana authors were the creative aunties, uncles and tuākana I had been longing for.
On day two I visited Taitoko School, with the effervescent Kiri-Michelle Mohi on a rosy-nose, blue-sky sort of morning. We cautiously stepped into a classroom of suspiciously quiet tamariki. Sensing that they had been eagerly awaiting our arrival, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for their invitation.
A Samoan boy sat upright at the front of the class and only took his eyes off me to study the upu pouring from his pencil. I watched as our oceans cascaded into dilated roots. He wrote a poem in both of his languages and read his words to us. Then, I knew I was in the right place—this was why we came.
On day three I solved all the issues of the universe on a long walk with my art-as-education sister, Emele Ugavule.
On day four I listened to the fiery wisdom of my publishing-as-activism idols, Nadine Anne Hura and Anahera Maire Gildea.
On the final day, I wept. No part of me wanted to leave this better world we had forged together.
Pōkai Tuhi was an opportunity for Moana authors and learners to engage in creative experiences that centered our ways of knowing and being. Together, we used literature as a tool for liberation. We continued our ancient tradition of storytelling on our own terms, and we shared our strengths with the next generation of knowledge leaders.
Te Kahu Rolleston (Ngāi Te Rangi), Brianne Te Paa (Ngāti Kahu, Te Rarawa, Ngāti Whātua, Te Aitanga-a-Māhaki and Te Whānau-a-Apanui), J. Wiremu Kane (Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Toro, Ngāti Manu, Te Mahurehure), Kiri-Michelle Mohi (Ngāti Rangiwewehi, Te Arawa), Maria Samuela (Kūki 'Airani), Emele Ugavule (Tokelau, Fiji) and Inangaro Vakaafi (Niue, Kūki 'Airani) took all my mamae and made it sparkle. These powerful tagata o le Moana illuminated the perennial mana of all my ancestors and led me home.
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