An exchange: three emails
To: English Dept.
Subject: Courtesy of NZ X Factor
He sent: A picture of a Maussie pop-star and a sheep with the caption “Ewes are
awesome”.
Reply: All
Subject: Courtesy of NZ X Factor
I sent: “The pop-star said that he would pronounce English words correctly when
mainstream NZ gave his native tongue the respect it deserved and pronounced
Maori words correctly”.
No further replies.
Reply: All
Subject: What I wanted to send
Whats da view like from on top of dat colonial high-horse? When did youse become
so up ur own asses? I can’t believe dat youse don’t get dat just bcoz ppl don’t speak
all flash and shit it don’t mean dey don’t got good ideas. Don’t youse no dat
Shakespeare (da man!) was thort to be street. I mean…shiiiit!
A culturally responsive pedagogy
To you they’re all the same
Every call, every action, every rolling of the eyes in all haka
To you, it all looks the same
To you they’re all the same
Every note, every harmony, every key change in all waiata
To you, it all sounds the same
To you they’re all the same.
Every ake ake, every ta hike e!, every tihei mauri ora! in all karakia
To you, it all feels the same
To you they’re all the same.
Every nameless student, every brown face, every “bro language” speaking boy
(And although in Kapa Haka unison is desirable)
To you “our Māori students”, they’re all the same
It’s no wonder really; to them we’re the enemy
Every unfair call, every action, every rolling of the eyes from any teacher
To them, we all think the same.
Still
Back then
wahine were gifted moko to show
pride, mana, prestige, strength
carving into the skin, through layers
removing the exterior to show whakapapa
a reminder to the recipient:
not to never forget
but to always remember that we are seeds
seeds sown long, long ago in Rangiātea.
But now
wahine need moko to claim
pride, mana, prestige, strength
imprinting the skin, compiling layers
covering the exterior to show whakapapa
a reminder to everyone else:
to never forget
and always remember that we are seeds
seeds sown long, long ago in Rangiātea.
And still
I wonder if a moko is what it takes to prove
pride, mana, prestige, strength
on my fair skin
so that my exterior doesn’t have to fight to hide how much
you have insulted my whakapapa.
a reminder to you:
to never forget
and always remember that I too am Māori, a seed sown long, long ago in Rangiātea.
Ethnicity/Culture (Tick one box)
Tick One Box
Just one?
One
Box
BoxHow can you explain generations and generations
of blood and blood mixing
of branches stretching and twisting and breaking
of layer upon layer
of proposing and betrothing
of promises and vows
of secrets and skeletons
of unspoken wishes that spawned from stars in blue moon skies to twinkles in their eyes
in just one box?
just one box?How do you honour
every legacy exchange that lives on between firsts and lasts
every ring in the bark of every tree in the forest
every single mark etched in the skin of every mother
every tear shed for every battle lost or won
or every song that was ever sung as every last journey begun
or that final leap of faith, red caught between the toes, of those who gave us the way.
in just one box?
just one box?
