For Te Wiki o Te Reo Māori, Capsule writer Vivien Beduya shares why she started learning te reo Māori.
What sparks someone’s journey to learn te reo Māori can be quite personal.
Before I get into my story as tauiwi, I want to acknowledge that learning te reo Māori can be mamae and whakamā for tāngata whenua, whose tūpuna once faced consequences for speaking te reo Māori.
In 2018, during my Christian era, I joined a group of US missionaries visiting a marae and church in Kaikohe.
It’d only been a year since moving to Aotearoa, so I thought, why not?
Looking back, I think the church wanted the missionaries to understand Aotearoa’s colonial history and how it still affects Māori today.
At a lookout with sweeping views of the whenua, the kaumātua spoke about how his tūpuna thrived on the land until British colonial settlers waged wars to seize it.
He talked about their ongoing fight for cultural preservation and language revitalisation since.
What surprised me though was that I suddenly found myself holding back my tears.
My Pākehā church mentor noticed and said, “I’m sure you’re taking this in differently than everyone else.”
She was right. The Americans were all openly talking about guilt for their ancestors’ role in colonisation.
For me, it was the complete opposite. That was truly the first time I was forming a real understanding of what the Philippines lost as a result of colonisation – and language loss was part of it.
Losing My Own Mother Tongue
That moment in Kaikohe left a mark in me.
It made me reflect on my own upbringing in the Philippines, where I slowly lost my mother tongue, Bisaya.
In school, we were banned from speaking our vernacular. Signs in the hallways and classrooms commanded us to only speak in English.
If we slipped into Bisaya, we’d get a demerit. Some teachers even went as far as FINING us (yes, with money) after a certain number of Bisaya words were spoken.
Over time, it conditioned me to believe that English – particularly American English – was superior, and Bisaya meant something I had to hide.
Today, my first language is English, despite living there for 21 years. I’m only conversationally fluent in Bisaya, I wouldn’t be able to write an article or do maths in my own language.
Even then, I need to mix in English words.
Learning Te Reo Māori as Solidarity
Watching Māori fight for the survival of te reo Māori made me re-examine my belief that English is inherently better, and it helped me see how wrong that belief was.
Indigenous languages shouldn’t be seen as ‘something lesser’, and are worthy of our pride.
I’ve slowly tried reconnecting with my roots through speaking Bisaya with family and friends, following Bisaya creators and listening to Bisaya music (though it’s hard to find).
But at the same time, learning to reo Māori has always felt important to me.
Throughout the years, I’ve learned some kupu through church, friends, post-graduate studies and mahi as a kairīpoata (journalist).
Now through a Te Reo Māori programme at my non-profit job, I’m finally learning the reo in a structured way.
Te reo Māori is for Māori to reclaim. As tauiwi, learning it is my way of standing alongside tāngata whenua and being a partner of Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
As I’ve made Aotearoa my home now, which was made possible through Te Tiriti o Waitangi, I want to be more meaningfully connected to this whenua.
And learning the reo is just the start.
If you’re thinking about starting your learning journey, I’ll leave you with a rerenga kōrero my kaiako te reo Māori shared with me:
Kāua e whakamā ki te kōrero māori, ahakoa he iti, he tāonga!
Do not be shy or anxious to learn to speak Māori, no matter how small, you’re treasured.
