Kia Ora! This week is Māori Language Week and I feel like I should be at a "rubbish at te reo" support group.
I'd start with something like, "Gidday, my name is Megan, I've been trying to speak te reo for 40-odd years now, and my family and co-host have sent me here because I am useless".
I can hold a conversation in NZ Sign Language, as my brother in law is profoundly deaf, and I've even managed to navigate my way around Europe with a multitude of languages to contend with, but when it comes to our native language I'm the first to put my hand up and say I'm sadly lacking.
I grew up in the 80s in rural Mid Canterbury where we weren't exposed to the language very much.
Temuka and Timaru were close by and we got our water from the Rangitata and Rākaia rivers but we were certainly never taught the correct way to pronounce their names.