Will te reo Māori survive?
By The Wireless.
The decision rests with you. Kei a koe.
Illustration: Te Hana Goodyer
Photo: Unknown
Exploring the fate of Te Reo Māori – penned by Te Wehi Wright
The perpetual debate, never conclusively resolved. Like many Māori terms, arguments for and against the survival of the Māori language fluctuate based on context and circumstance. Hence why the proverb “He tōtara wāhi rua” resonates. The tōtara tree indeed stands divided, to our dismay.
Te Wehi Wright
Photo: Tim Onnes
However, as someone who learned te reo Māori as a first language, my stance on this matter has always been strongly biased.
My inclination to tirelessly advocate for the language’s survival is unyielding, but to engage in such defense is to entertain a narrative propagated by the very individuals who consistently downplay the value of te reo Māori. I owe no justification for my stance, nor is there a need to defend it. My language shouldn’t undergo trial to be judged by unappreciative minds. Its survival is unquestionable.
Here’s the rationale.
I am the offspring of second-language learners of Māori who aspired to nurture a Māori-speaking household.
My mother honed her skills under the guidance of Ani White, while my father’s mentor was the stringent Tīmoti Kāretu. Despite their differing instructional approaches, both instilled in me a deep fervor and boundless affection for te reo Māori and its entirety.
From my parents’ vision sprouted six children, all raised with Māori as their first language. Growing up amidst Māori-speaking siblings and parents provided us with a distinctive worldview.
Residing in a te reo Māori-immersed environment, we thrived within the nurturing confines of kōhanga reo and embraced the tenets of Te Aho Matua. Indulged in Māori culture and shielded from external realities, we naively assumed that all storekeepers conversed in Māori like our nearby Four Square vendor on Clayton Road. This sense of security later metamorphosed into a wellspring of inspiration when we comprehended the magnitude of our parents’ dream.
Navigating beyond our insular realm, I encountered an unfamiliar sensation: estrangement due to my language preference, struggles in pronunciation resulting in nicknames, and a refusal to have them mispronounce my name. Such encounters served as poignant reminders of the profound impact my parents’ dream had on my upbringing and maturation.
Endowed with guiding principles, linguistic prowess, and the zeal to promote ongoing usage, my fluency in Māori has cultivated a perspective enriched by its nuances and subtle complexities. It has provided me with a sense of grounding while straddling different worlds, offering solace and reinforcement when needed. My reliance on te reo exceeds its reliance on me. Hence, I firmly believe that this language will endure through me and my descendants for generations to come.
The dream born from two individuals has blossomed into reality for over 50 others, influencing parents, offspring, and grandchildren, spanning four generations thus far with the promise of enduring for at least four more to come.
That is the reason.
Te reo Māori will persist as a vital thread within my whānau.
This is the method.
The following suggestions are tailored to my family’s experience and the upbringing my siblings and I underwent. While I do not claim them as foolproof strategies for ensuring survival, they were efficacious for us.
Te Wehi Wright’s strategies for preserving the language:
- Converse exclusively in Māori with your children.
- Imbue tikanga alongside Māori to prevent their segregation.
- Exclusively expose them to Māori-language TV shows (e.g., Te Karere was our sole option in the ’90s).
- Permit them to listen solely to Māori music (iwi radio was our sole radio source in the ’90s).
- Request others to communicate in Māori to your children to the best of their capabilities, including shopkeepers.
- Sing lullabies in Māori to your children during early years.
- Frequent visits to the marae are imperative.
- Enroll your children in kōhanga reo.
- Enroll your children in a kura kaupapa Māori.
- Enhance skills to foster collective linguistic growth across generations.
- Solely communicate in Māori with your grandchildren.
*Ngati Rangitihi, Ngati Whakaue, Ngaruahine, and Ngati Kahungunu ki Te Wairoa are my iwi affiliations. A product of Kohanga Reo, steeped in Te Aho Matua principles, I, Te Wehi, am the Co-President of Te Mana Akonga this year.
My iwi affiliations include Ngati Rangitihi, Ngati Whakaue, Ngaruahine, and Ngati Kahungunu ki Te Wairoa. I was nurtured in Kohanga, shaped by Te Aho Matua, and currently serve as Co-President of Te Mana Akonga – The New Zealand Maori Students’ Association.
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10 ways to hinder the survival of te reo Māori – Hine Te Ariki Parata-Walker
Te reo Māori stands as my second language. My language journey, like that of many second-language learners, is far from linear.
My educational journey was predominantly in Māori, while English prevailed at home, despite my family’s proficiency in, and comprehension of, Māori. My childhood revolved around the marae, harmonizing mōteatea after my father and uncles delivered their orations from a young age.
Hine Te Ariki Parata-Walker
Photo: Tim Onnes
As a child, I was raised on the ancestral stories of my family, sub-tribes, and tribes as our bedtime tales. Among my sisters and me, our favorite was always the legend of the renowned Ngāti Porou ancestors, the sisters Materoa, Tawhipare, and Te Ataakura.
Recollections of elders and seniors conversing with me in Māori are scarce, including my grandparents, and even rarer are memories of places in my primarily Māori community where I knew that speaking te reo Māori was the norm.
A few years after leaving school, I found myself in my final year of undergraduate studies, taking a 300-level Māori language course. I was taken aback by the condition of my spoken Māori: struggling to form basic sentences, attempting to recall simple words, and hearing my own speech sounding like English expressions with Māori vocabulary.
Since then, my journey towards normalizing te reo Māori in my life has been full of twists and turns. I had to honestly assess my language skills, unlearn certain ingrained beliefs, and, most challenging of all, acknowledge that the responsibility for my poor proficiency lay with me alone — no one else. It’s my language, my duty. Here are the lessons I’ve had to let go of.
Hine Te Ariki Parata-Walker’s 10 ways to help te reo Māori thrive:
1 – Not using your reo and expecting it to survive – Spoiler Alert: it won’t. Use it or lose it.
2 – Revering te reo Māori as a sacred treasure – It is indeed a treasure, but it is also a language for expressing a wide range of human emotions, including embarrassment, humor, lust, and confusion — not all of which are sacred.
3 – Believing people need incentives to speak – In the end, speaking Māori costs nothing.
4 – Using Māori formally in public and English in private – Following formal speaking conventions is easier than impromptu speaking. Normalizing te reo in both contexts can prevent embarrassment — trust me on this.
5 – Switching back to English offstage – I’ve witnessed numerous instances of performers passionately advocating for our language on stage, only to revert to English once offstage.
6 – Expecting organizations to save our language – Remember: “It’s my reo, it’s my responsibility.”
7 – Judging people based on their language proficiency – Particularly when it comes to learners and non-Māori individuals. This approach is counterproductive and does a disservice to te reo. However, if they’re being paid to teach it, that’s a different story altogether.
8 – Thinking you must be inebriated to enjoy our language – Admit it, many of us are guilty of this. I’m addressing those who suddenly find the courage to speak Māori after a few drinks. It’s great that you’re speaking it; let’s continue even when sober.
9 – Dismissing certain forms of Māori as not authentic – Te Reo Māori isn’t a monolithic language. Say what you will about certain TV presenters and their elaborate vernacular, of which I can decipher only parts. Their language is vibrant. Our goal is to ensure our accents thrive as well.
10 – Advocating for compulsory Māori education in schools but neglecting it at home – Speaking from experience where Māori was compulsory in school but absent at home. Unless te reo Māori is commonly practiced in all arenas of daily life, we are hindering its true vitality. Initiating this practice at home is the first step, paving the way forward.
*Hine Te Ariki hails from Ngāti Porou and Kāi Tahu tribes. She cherishes the Māori language. She imparts it to her nieces and nephews and uses it online with hope that the language will persist for future generations.