Haami Piripi and Mike Te Wake from Kaitaia discuss the importance of Te Reo with Northern Advocate reporter Jaime Lyth
To celebrate the 47th year of Te Wiki o te Reo Māori - Māori Language Week this week, the Advocate is bringing the history, meaning, power, and future of te reo to you with stories of what it means for Northlanders.
Today, reporter Jaime Lyth takes a road trip around the region with photographer Michael Cunningham to capture how te reo Māori is more than just a language to Tai Tokerau.
The history of te reo
Te reo Māori is a window to culture, says Te Rūnanga o Te Rarawa iwi leader, Haami Piripi.
Piripi, who calls Kaitāia home, has dedicated much of his life to saving the language as the former chief executive of the Māori Language Commission.
As the indigenous people of this country, Māori named many of the places across New Zealand first, but a lot are only now becoming widely recognised by their native names.
"From our point of view, it's due respect really, to be able to pronounce names properly," Piripi said.
The term reclamation is an important one in the context of te reo place names, and Piripi spoke about it in the context of Te-Oneroa-a-Tōhē (Ninety Mile Beach).
The beach's dual name was adopted in 2014 as a result of a Treaty of Waitangi settlement between the New Zealand government and Ngāti Kuri in Te Hiku o Te Ika.
"When you use that name Te-Oneroa-a-Tōhē, you are going back hundreds of years to an ancestor called Tōhē, who traversed the beach," Piripi said.
Haami Piripi in Kaitaia. Photo / Michael Cunningham
He described how te reo is proof that languages exist for more than communicating meaning - languages are what make us human.
"As soon as you say where you come from and use a [te reo place name], people know exactly who you are, where you come from, what generation you might be - just from a name."
Piripi said te reo place names are shared knowledge through generations, such as warnings for dangerous rivers.
But keeping this knowledge alive has been an uphill battle, he noted.
There were periods throughout New Zealand's history when te reo was socially unacceptable - schools suppressed the language, while some policies officially banned it.
Northlanders encountered along the course of this article spoke of being discouraged and punished for speaking in te reo.
Thus, generations of Māori stopped speaking the language. However, a sign of resilience for te reo existed in the name Aotearoa.
"[...] Aotearoa has been through colonisation, European-isation, but has survived, and remains a recognised name for the country," Piripi said.
"That, I think, tells you the importance of a name, and the importance of a name that transmits history and enables connectivity and collaboration."
While Te Wiki o te Reo Māori (Māori Language Week) started in 1975, te reo wasn't recognised as an official language of New Zealand until 1987. That's only 35 years of legal acceptance; let alone societal.
"From the '70s and '80s you had Māori reasserting themselves, in what's often termed as the Māori renaissance," Dr Peter Meihana, Senior Lecturer in Māori History at Massey University, said.
"The Māori renaissance led to an increase in the presence of Te Tiriti o Waitangi in life; Māori things took a greater presence in national life."
Te reo pronunciation
The often recognised te reo name for Dargaville is Takiwira, a transliteration for the English name. But this isn't the original name.
In 1876, 80 hectares of land collectively named Tunatahi were purchased by Joseph McMullen Dargaville, an Australian merchant, from local Ngāpuhi chief Parore Te Āwhā and others. Joseph changed the name of the land he purchased from Tunatahi to Dargaville.
A conversation with Rex and Ihapera Nathan about their beginnings with te reo unearths an understanding of why Tunatahi is not the commonly spoken name for Dargaville.
Ihapera was raised in a te reo speaking household, so when she started school she couldn't speak English.
But given English was the only language school taught, teachers were quick to sit her down with books to help her learn.
For Rex, his parents spoke te reo at home and he naturally learned the language by listening to them.
But that was where his development in te reo ended.
"They encouraged us to learn English as opposed to continuing to learn Māori because everyone at school was learning English and nobody at school was talking Māori," he said.
"They were strapped because they weren't allowed to speak Māori at school, and so they brought that through to us."
Ihapera and Rex Nathan at home in Dargaville. Photo / Michael Cunningham
These days, the Nathans enjoy a happy medium of mixing between both languages. Some things are more easily communicated in te reo, and some in English.
"It all depends on what you're talking about," Ihapera said.
Rex recommended first learning how to pronounce Māori vowels, which would help unlock entire Māori words.
Parore Street and Tirarau Street in Dargaville, which are named after two chiefs, are often mispronounced due to people using the wrong vowels, he explained.
"Once you've got the vowel soundings, these names become a lot easier to say."
The placement of your tongue and the positioning of your mouth can impact the way words sound when they leave your mouth.
Ihapera would turn to me to watch my mouth when I tried to pronounce Māori words. She would then point to hers to demonstrate how my mouth should be moving.
"When I first started in the community I couldn't say Whakapara," Whangārei Whakapara Marae trustee Dale van Engelen says.
"I was still saying Wa-ka-pa-ra."
Engelen's grandmother was born in 1900, and she grew up knowing te reo Māori as well as being fluent in English.
"When she was 74, I sat on the end of her bed and asked her, 'Granny, can you teach me how to speak Māori?' And she just said, 'I can't remember', and for me, that was a shock."
Engelen asked her school if she could learn how to speak Māori.
"[...] They said the only way you could learn is through correspondence."
The lack of options meant Engelen's te reo journey hit pause for several years until she became a Māori community officer.
"I was very conscious that I couldn't speak Māori and couldn't even pronounce Māori words correctly, and that was really hurtful to me because I suddenly realised how much I had lost and how much I had missed out on."
Dale van Engelen at Whakapara Marae. Photo / Michael Cunningham
Since then Engelen has become fluent in te reo and has even received funding to write bilingual books - stories about their heroes and heroines, penned in their language.
"I have noticed in the last four or five years there's been a really strong push from Māori and from the Government, and more money has been handed over to Māori to actually be in charge of the regeneration of te reo Māori," Engelen said.
Statistics show eight out of 10 of us see te reo as part of our Kiwi identity, and one in three can speak more than a few words of Māori, says Māori Language Commissioner, Professor Rawinia Higgins.
So, why do some take offence to te reo even when direct English translations are provided?
"When they ask why the news is catering to 15 per cent of the population, they're saying the other 80 per cent of the nation isn't interested," Dr Peter Meihana, Senior Lecturer in Māori History at Massey University, said.
"They're not speaking for all Pākehā."
Speaking te reo Māori is a right agreed upon through Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and is the original language of the land, after all.
"The response is symptomatic [of the fact] that some of Pākehā think they have to give something up or lose something [...] rather than taking its rightful place, they frame it as 'Māori privilege'," Meihana said.
