Te Paepae o Aotea is set to open in 2023. (Image: Getty Images / Design: Tina Tiller)

ĀteaJuly 27, 2022

Te Paepae o Aotea: The story of Hāwera’s new school

Contributing writer

Te Paepae o Aotea is set to open in 2023. (Image: Getty Images / Design: Tina Tiller)

A new school is opening in the South Taranaki town next year after a fire extensively damaged the old intermediate in 2015. Airana Ngarewa reports.

In October 2015 a fire tore through Hāwera Intermediate School, destroying 10 classrooms, the library and the hall – two-thirds of the kura. In the time since, the school has had to make do, at first sharing the facilities of Hāwera High School and then afterwards, making use of a series of prefabricated and demountable classrooms.

It is not the first time the community of Hāwera – the largest centre in South Taranaki – has been rocked by such a tragedy. The name of the township in full is Te Hāwera, an ingoa tapu with three possible interpretations: the burnt place, the breath of fire and the burning plains. While traditions vary across hapū and iwi, the most well known pakiwaitara tells of an ope sneaking into a rival village at night and setting it ablaze, leaving not a single survivor. In 1884, 1888 and 1912 the community was rocked again by fire – the latter razing a large portion of the main street area. The township’s name hangs over it like a cloud of smoke.

Fortunately, some of the intermediate was saved. Even so, until recently, the future of the school has been in limbo, with staff, students and the community unsure of what would happen in the long term. This would change in 2021 when education minister Chris Hipkins outlined two potential solutions to the problems caused by the blaze: either the contributing primary schools would be made full primary schools (Year 1 to Year 8), or the primary schools would remain as they are and a new Year 7 to Year 13 school would be set up.

This would mean either that Hāwera Intermediate and Hāwera High School would merge or that an entirely new school would be created. The latter was favoured by both principals as well as their boards of trustees, and it was announced this year that this is exactly what they will get.

While a sprinkling of announcements were made regarding this new school’s senior leadership team, the school was referred to as Hāwera New School. Then, at Matariki, its leadership held a community hui, announcing the new school’s name and its guiding kaupapa as represented through whakatauākī and its logo.

Fire damage to the Hāwera Intermediate school hall in 2015 (Photo: RNZ/ Robin Martin)

Here the name of the kura was first announced: Te Paepae o Aotea. This ingoa was gifted to the school by Te Runanga o Ngāti Ruanui and Te Korowai o Ngāruahine, the administrative wings of the key iwi of this area. Te Paepae refers to the speaking benches most associated with pōhiri and Aotea refers to the waka that Turi and Rongorongo used to sail here in the great migration. The name seeks to acknowledge not only the history of mana whenua but lay out the aspiration that this new school is a place of meaningful connection and healthy debate, just as the paepae is on the marae.

Te Runanga o Ngāti Ruanui and Te Korowai o Ngāruahine also gifted the whakatauākī: Kia eke atu ki Taupaenui o te tangata – People reaching their full potential. These words derive from the karakia, Te Hā Oranganui, as composed by Dr Huirangi Waikerepuru and first recited at the rising of the sun each day during a series of wānanga in 1998 at Taiporohenui Marae.

The importance of this ingoa and whakatauākī is made even more clear in the context of these schools. Hāwera Intermediate and Hāwera High School both have large Māori demographics – nearly a third of students in each school – and ERO reports over the last six years point to sometimes significant disparities in achievement between Māori and non-Māori students at these kura. Overcoming this legacy of Māori underachievement will undoubtedly be one of Te Paepae o Aotea’s greatest challenges, however, its commitment to partnering with iwi and honouring mātauranga Māori will likely go a long way towards solving this problem.

This leads to the final piece of this new school’s image: its logo. At the centre of the piece stands the silhouette of Taranaki Mounga as viewed from Te Hāwera. Behind him is a series of tukutuku panels that symbolise Tāwhaki’s journey to collect the three baskets of knowledge. Poetically, the panels are painted orange in memory of the fire that earned the area its name. At the feet of Koro Taranaki is the awa, honouring te taiao and within it two mangōpare representing Ngāti Ruanui and Ngāruahine. Finally bordering all of it is Puanga (Rigel), the star that mana whenua look to in place of Matariki to bring in the new year. It is altogether a brilliant mihi to local history, local knowledge and local iwi, a target all kura across Aotearoa should strive to emulate.

‘He mea tautoko nā ngā mema atawhai. Supported by our generous members.’

Liam Rātana
— Ātea editor

While consultation with the community continues regarding the new school’s values, the community looks forward to prefabricated classrooms being established at Bayly Park in the near future, and Te Paepae o Aotea hitting the ground running early in 2023.

This is Public Interest Journalism funded through NZ On Air.

Keep going!

PoliticsJuly 25, 2022

Māori roll or general roll – how did you choose?

Ema Tuakoi and Tommy de Silva

Guest writer

Māori voters’ reasons for joining the Māori roll – or staying on the general one – are as diverse as the Aotearoa electorate itself.

Are you on the Māori roll or the general roll?

The Māori electoral option provides anyone of Māori descent with the choice to enrol on either the Māori roll or the general roll. It’s a sign-up event held over one four-month period every five to six years; the last one was in 2018, resulting in the first net increase of Māori changing to the general roll since 1996.

This topic has been controversial lately, with two bills being pulled from the private members’ ballot looking to change the rules around electoral roll switching. Shortly after, then justice minister Kris Faafoi announced a government bill that would allow Māori to switch rolls at any time.

The Māori electoral option is important as it determines the number of Māori seats in parliament, which fulfils our right as Māori to political representation, as guaranteed in te Tiriti o Waitangi. If you’re on the Māori roll you vote for a candidate in the Māori electorate you live in (as of 2020, there were seven). If you’re on the general roll, you vote for a candidate in the general electorate you live in (as of 2020, there were 65).

The Māori electorates have a complex history, beginning with the Māori Representation Act of 1867 that was introduced to give Māori men the vote. Since 1975, all those of Māori descent have been able to choose between the Māori roll and the general roll.

The newly proposed bills have led to debate over the potential for Māori to switch rolls in order to change an election outcome. However, we still don’t really know why people choose the Māori roll or the general roll. Is it simply strategic, or is it due to an array of complex reasons?

We believe the answer is likely the latter, and we all have different experiences. Here, we tell our stories of roll choice.

Tommy: ‘I didn’t feel Māori enough’

Last time I could switch rolls, my Pākehā complexion and lack of reo made me believe that I wasn’t “Māori enough” to change from the general roll. To me then, the Māori roll was only for those steeped in te reo Māori me ōna tikanga. In reality, if you are Māori, you deserve to be on the Māori roll, period.

So why did I not feel “Māori enough”?

Maybe it was because my Māori mum and nana died before my eighth birthday. With the health inequity present in this nation, Māori children are affected by whānau deaths unequally. This childhood trauma disconnected me from my Māori identity.

But growing up in the shadow of Puketāpapa (Mt Roskill) with my dad’s Pākehā family kept me connected to my whakapapa. Mum’s whānau grew up on Richardson Road, three streets away from where we lived. Hearing my uncles’ stories about living there always made me feel connected to my mum and nana. Also, in Roskill the Manukau Harbour, the source of life for our Tāmaki tūpuna, was never far away.

Colonisation purposefully disconnects Māori from our identity as tangata whenua. It wants childhood traumas and our unequal society to make people like me feel “not Māori enough”. But whakapapa is indestructible. Māori don’t need to question whether we are “Māori enough” through meaningless blood purity levels like half, one-quarter or one-eighth, as if we are death eaters from Harry Potter.

So next time I can change rolls I’m gonna say a big f*$k you to colonisation and proudly recognise my special position as tangata whenua. If more Māori joined the Māori roll, the Māori perspective would increase in a system that was built to exclude our voice. Sounds good to me!

Ema: ‘I ticked both boxes’

At the ripe old age of 21, I see all the mahi that other rangatahi are doing within the political sphere and I think back to when I was younger. I had no idea about any of this! Perhaps it’s because I’m from South Auckland, where for many politics don’t matter too much, because you’re going to be living paycheck to paycheck anyway, regardless of red or blue being in power.

I received my VoteNZ registration letter at 17 years old. I read it over and over to make sure that I fully understood, and yet I didn’t. I had no idea of the historical significance of the Māori electoral roll. It’s not that I wasn’t aware of colonisation and the consequences of it that remain today, I was well aware. It’s that I knew next to nothing about politics.

Despite this, I knew that I wanted to register to vote. I felt confident enough in my “Māori-ness” that I decided to tick both boxes – not knowing that you could only pick one. I now know that I should have been contacted by someone to sort this out, but I wasn’t. I was entered into the general roll as a default, and once I had learnt of the importance of the Māori roll, it was too late. With the current legislation in place, I still have to wait two more years to make this switch.

The lack of education surrounding politics, especially for Māori and Pasifika rangatahi, leads us to believe that it’s trivial, and that our voices don’t matter. But as everyone loves to remind us, we are the future. It’s up to us to do everything in our power to ensure that all that our tīpuna fought for was not in vain, and that tangata Māori realise the power we hold.

These experiences are our own, but we’re also interested in hearing yours…

Which Roll? Ko Tēhea Rārangi Pōti is a study discovering why tangata whenua choose to enrol on the Māori or general electoral roll.

We have a short anonymous survey available in either te reo Māori or English. But we don’t just want to hear from those who strongly identify with their Māori identity, or only those who love politics. Instead, we want to inclusively hear from diverse people with Māori whakapapa or of Māori descent. All survey participants will go into a draw for a $5,000 prize pool.

Currently, there is not much accessible information to empower Māori to make an informed electoral roll choice. To bridge this gap, we will ultimately use our survey findings to create an online resource to help Māori make an informed choice.

Ema Tuakoi and Tommy de Silva are working on the Which Roll? Ko Tēhea Rārangi Pōti study as research assistants.

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