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Matariki constellation

Matariki – our past, our future

Posted on June 7, 2022 by Anahera McGregor

Ahhhh Matariki, here you are again. This year, I think, your presence will be different. This time more people know your name. This time they will look for you. This time, the ancient being you are, will be honoured. Mānawatia a Matariki. 

I paused just the other night and looked at the sky cloaked in all its glory. Each star, millions of miles away, ever constant, ever seeing, ever present. My momentary reflection made me think about just how old the stars are. They have led generations, they have guided waka around the world, they have given signs and have provided comfort and wise counsel. 

They remain the same, yet we have changed. Our world is ever changing – he ao hurihuri tēnei ao. 

The word ‘mātai’ is synonymous with star gazing. It is also a word that we use for ‘examine’. In the development of the new Aotearoa New Zealand and Te Takanga o te Wā histories curricula, mātai is used in the guiding whakataukī Mātai whakamuri, kia anga whakamua – look to the past to move forward. Matariki provides the impetus for us to do just that, reflect on what has gone before and to prepare for the future. So what then is our past, and what will be our future? 

With every generation comes change. We have evolved as a society, and continue to evolve as a society. That is how nature works. And thank goodness for that. Those of us who have glimpsed into the window of our past know we have seen dark times. We still see, feel and hear the impact of those times, that is, if we choose to do so. For those that are yet to learn the history of this land, the time has arrived. 

Prior to the signing of te Tiriti o Waitangi, te reo Māori was the predominant language of the land. Māori culture, society and identity were intact and māori (normal). In the span of the next one hundred and fifty plus years we experienced the most horrific legislation, for example the 1879 Māori Prisoners Act (Māori imprisoned without trial for an indefinite period of time), the 1863 Suppression of Rebellion Act (any Māori deemed to be in rebellion with the Crown were punished with land confiscation), the 1863 New Zealand Settlements Act (allowed the Government to confiscate land as punishment for those who fought against the crown), the Pepper Potting policy in the 1960s where whānau Māori were housed in non-Māori areas to hasten the assimilation process, and the list goes on and on. Be it racist policy, the perpetuation of racist discourse, the racist slander we might even experience in our own families, down to the ‘everything is so Māori nowdays’,  tells a story of where we have been, and shows us where we need to get to in order to ensure the world looks different for our future generations. 

And the world is looking different. Hope is being restored each time a Māori word is pronounced correctly. It is restored every time ‘mainstream’ media uses te reo Māori in our TV shows. When we go to the supermarket and see bilingual signage, when people call out racist behaviour, when people invest time in learning the language, when people seek to change – to do better and to be better. When mātauranga Māori is naturalised back into ‘mainstream’ society, as we see with the Matariki holiday, things are changing. 

This year marks the first time we will celebrate an indigenous public holiday. To me, it is a very public way to honour mātauranga Māori. If people didn’t know what or who Matariki was, they will now. It is a deliberate act of re-indigenisation, challenging the face of eurocentricity and New Zealand culture. This, among other forms of cultural reclamation and revitalisation, are becoming more and more normal. Iwi are investing significant heart, time and resource into the identity of their uri – identity that has been, like land, dispossessed for generations, for many of us. We are pursuing cultural responsiveness. We see so much grace and willingness to work in partnership that there is a sense of te Tiriti o Waitangi slowly gaining mana and finding a home in society, beyond rhetoric and into spaces of authentic implementation. Although the term is beginning to sound slightly cliche, Aotearoa is getting ‘woke’. 

It is good to reflect on how far we have come. As we prepare to consider what our contribution to the narrative of our land will be, our collective story will eventually become history, what deliberate acts might we do to ensure mātauranga Māori is returned equitably to the winds, ngā hau e whā, of Aotearoa? Hiwa-i-te-rangi, the ‘wishing star’ of the Matariki cluster, will soon be visible to the eye. What might we lay before her, what are our hopes and dreams for our land? The responsibility for the future sits on our shoulders and in our hearts. He aha tāu? What part will you play?

 

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Children working in classroom

Building relationships through letting go of control

Posted on May 30, 2022 by Kirsty Macfarlane

Existing in relationships triggers everything.

Manulani Aluli Meyer (2008)

What does it mean to exist in relationships in the context of a classroom? One of the first things I was taught during my teacher training is that relationships are key. Up until recently I believed I was doing my best to foster relationships between myself, the students and their whānau. This belief in my abilities to build and develop meaningful relationships was tested when I was accepted as a recipient of the Dr Vince Ham eFellowship with Core Education. Through my research I was forced to re-evaluate what it meant to form relationships, and the work that needed to be done to do this.  My eFellow project was structured around this research question:

How can real-time reporting, via Seesaw, support reciprocal/ako relationships between learners, whānau and school?

I had a hunch that through live reporting, whānau, students and I would switch easily between the roles of teacher and learner. I optimistically saw myself collaborating with whānau and students to complete my research. This optimism was quickly dashed by my first whānau focus group discussion, which was attended by one parent. This experience taught me my first lesson – that good intentions and morning greetings are not enough to create the type of strong and trusting relationships I was looking for. I had not taken the time to nurture and grow these relationships, instead I expected whānau to engage in ways that were dictated by me. I expected whānau to engage with me simply because I had good intentions; I had failed to recognise inherent power imbalances.

According to Berrryman, Lawrence and Lamont (2018) to break down power imbalances and build culturally responsive relationships, educators must create spaces in which to first listen to our students and their whānau. Building respectful relationships takes time and commitment. I realised that I needed to create opportunities for whānau to be part of the classroom. I also needed to create opportunities and space for whānau to engage with me. I wanted my research project to build this space and I assumed it already existed. My initial forays into the project showed me that I could not move forward with relationships without first having established them. This realisation led me to organise a cake and reading afternoon with the children and their whānau.

I invited whānau to attend a cake and reading afternoon in the classroom during class time. In preparation the children baked a cake and we practiced two songs – Kina Kina and Si Manu Laititi to sing to the parents. The whānau of six children arrived and the children showed their parents their favourite parts of the classroom and what they had been learning. It was insightful and meaningful for me to watch the children interacting with their whānau. One chose to show how he used Mobilo© to make Beyblades©. Another wanted to show all the artwork they had completed in the classroom and proceeded to walk their family around to see it. I witnessed children choosing their favourite picture book and having their family read it to them. Interestingly the children whose whānau did not attend enjoyed interacting and playing games with the adults that were there. It showed me the value of a wider whānau connection, and how tamariki can connect with the whānau of other students in meaningful and productive ways.

Kirsty Macfarlane blog image

What was different?

The cake and reading day was a success, it was a turning point in my research and my understanding of what it meant to build relationships. But what was different?

  • The event was led by whānau and ākonga. Whānau came and went as they pleased, and ākonga led the interactions in the classroom. 

  • I let go of control. In essence this letting go involved me standing back and allowing the event to unfold, which was not as easy as it sounds. There were many times I wanted to step in, take over, point something out. It also made me feel very vulnerable, open to perceived judgement that I was not doing enough for my students.

Kirsty Macfarlane eFellows blog image

The cake and reading day was a pivotal moment for me. It resulted in the beginnings of an embodied understanding of what it means to be in relationship with whānau and ākonga. Relationships cannot be simply a cerebral undertaking; a checklist of steps to be taken to ensure that I ‘know’ the whānau and tamariki that make up my classroom. This research project has shown me that relationships take time and effort. Relationships are not static, they are continually changing and require each person to respond to that change. I am starting to realise that existing in relationships with tamariki and whānau means being uncertain, taking risks, listening, adapting, giving space and letting go of control. There is no handbook for relationship building, rather it requires each person to be present and open to the other—relationship building requires ongoing work.

The e-fellowship experience has enabled me to cultivate a new understanding of what it means to be relationally connected with whānau. This understanding manifested itself in the following ways:

  • Waiting in silence for as long as it took each whānau member to read a report before starting a conference: 

  • Staying on the phone and listening to a parent who was going through a difficult time:

  • Working with a parent helper’s timeframe— as opposed to a set schedule from me—so that they can pop in when they are able to: 

  • Creating opportunities for children to make more choices in the classroom: 

  • Taking the time to allow conversation to flow rather than launching straight into what I want to say: 

  • Inviting parents to be part of the class in ways determined by them.

All these examples demonstrate that time is one of the most important aspects embedded within building and maintaining relationships. Each relationship is different and requires constant attention and time. The question is how do I create this time and space, in a current education system that does not value it. 

You can read Kirsty Macfarlane's 2021 eFellow's report here. 

 

References

Berryman, M., Lawrence, D., & Lamont, R. (2018). Cultural relationships for responsive pedagogy: A bicultural mana ōrite perspective. Set: Research Information for Teachers 3-10

Meyer, M. A. (2008). Indigenous and authentic: Hawaiian epistemology and the triangulation of meaning. Handbook of critical and Indigenous methodologies, 217-232. Thousand Oaks; SAGE Publication.

 

 

 

 

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Children smiling in classroom

Everyone belongs….don’t they? Creating safe spaces

Posted on May 30, 2022 by Rashida Longley

Growing up in England, I often felt culturally different – not only to my peers, but also to my parents and extended family. School and home were two different worlds for me and neither overlapped and this left me feeling a sense of isolation, disconnectedness and voicelessness.  I have sensed those same feelings being re-lived in many of my students today. They don’t talk about their culture and what the student experience is like for them.  I suspect it was the same for me. 

As educators, we’re probably all be familiar with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. You cannot make progress towards the ultimate goal of self-actualisation without working your way through the lower tiers. Do our classroom spaces reflect this pathway? 

Creating spaces where students feel welcome and a sense of belonging is important. It takes continuous effort to make sure our classrooms are welcoming; that we are welcoming. Words we use are welcoming. We smile, we share kai and play games so that students can get to know each other and feel at ease in the class. We might do an activity to create a class treaty so that everyone gets a say in how the class culture will be.

However, I invite you to ask yourself the same question I asked myself: am I co-creating a space with students where they can truly be themselves? Or, am I inviting them into MY space, and wanting them to feel a sense of belonging in the space that I have created? 

This prompted me to put together a proposal for the Dr Vince Ham eFellowship, to do some research into something that was so important, something that could mean that inclusive really means inclusive of all.  My final research proposal aimed to collect student narratives and stories to identify factors that create a sense of belonging for students from diverse cultural backgrounds. 

From MY space to OUR space – don’t filter the culture

As part of my routine at the start of the year, I introduce myself to each of my classes by doing a mihi and sharing aspects of my life. In return, I ask students to share with me, individually, their mihi, and just one slide about their life, using images. This is done in conjunction with a student profile sheet. This allows students to tell me, in confidence, about themselves and how they feel about taking this class, and answer some questions about their learning experiences. Of course, I do this to build connections between us – it’s about creating a space where they feel comfortable and are able to share themselves.

Rashida Longley eFellows blog image 1

 

As I gathered student voice for my research, I realised that I was not creating a space where students could ‘be themselves’. What I was doing was creating a sense of safety in MY space. I was still very much controlling the space.  My own culture was the dominating culture and, alongside a colonial education system and curriculum, did this inhibit a true sense of belonging? I think so, and I still have a lot of work to do to allow students to be themselves. 

From my research, it was clear how important identity and belonging on your own terms are to students.

‘In class, there is usually one one point of reference and that is the Pākeha perspective and that can lead to feelings of exclusion for students who have not been brought up in a Pākeha world’

‘When people are talking, I can just say “this is my experience”. Yeah. And I don't have to filter out the culture’

There are two things we need to think about, the firstly how do we turn teacher practices around to be more inclusive. 

The second is about how we can then create a space where students can be themselves? 

My thinking has now turned from inviting students into my safe space towards answering the question ‘how can I create a space where students (and teachers) can be themselves?’ What does this look like in the classroom? In my practice? What does this language sound like?

Recognising the power of the dominant culture

The first thing we need to stop doing is making assumptions that just because we live in a country where European culture is dominant, that all students are familiar with it. In one interview, the following comment from one of the students really resonated with me.

‘Teachers will often make reference to pākeha popular culture “you will all have heard this song, your grandparents will have played it……” this immediately disconnects you from the class if you have not grown up in this culture or country’

I have experienced this feeling. I still experience it. It does not just happen in the classroom; it happens in many, many aspects of my  life, including in my social life when talking to people about music, TV and films and food. 

Yet, I was still guilty of this within my teaching – teaching through the dominant culture. 

Something that I will now do is to use the REAL influences in my life. My childhood landmarks are connected to my own British Ugandan Indian cultural references (yes, mostly Bollywood) music, films, actors and singers but also ood and festivals. In this way I can find connection not through common experience but through modelling respect for authentic and unique experience.

One way in which we can easily change is to re-think our language, this would make a big difference.

Depending on the purpose, this can be rephrased:

‘This is a song from MY childhood, MY grandparents played it”

‘Think of a song you have heard throughout your childhood’

(get students to play it, share it)

There are no assumptions being made about knowledge or culture here – but what it will do is allow students to share openly. 

There are many examples that will come to mind about how we can make small, simple changes in order to co-construct safe places for our culturally diverse learners. Another example that comes to mind in my teaching is when I teach Organic Chemistry. I will consciously draw attention to more indigenous medicine from a variety of cultures to look at the chemical composition of the active ingredients.  

My challenge to you is to reflect on your current practice and think about how you can make small changes so that all your students feel that they truly can be themselves in your classroom. I believe that these small changes will make all the difference to your students and their sense of belonging. 

You can read Rashida Longley's 2021 eFellow's report here. 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
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Group of people standing in classroom

Get comfortable with being uncomfortable

Posted on May 25, 2022 by Sarah Lassen

I am Māori. I whakapapa Māori, therefore, I am Māori. Although I am visibly white, my own upbringing follows the same as many Māori. My Nana was Māori but she hated it. She distanced herself as far as she could from te ao Māori, her iwi, her hapū, her whānau. She faced battles that she would never talk about and became disconnected. I was, therefore, disconnected from birth. 

When I began my own journey at high school to attempt to reconnect, I was judged harshly for it. I faced a barrage of comments like, “You’re too intelligent to take te reo.” and “You don’t look Māori, why would you choose it as a subject?” These negative comments displayed the racism that was evident in both my community as well as in the education system but I only truly see this in hindsight; the hindsight I have as I try to walk with a foot in both worlds. I accept and acknowledge my white privilege while I fight to bring about equity in education. The deficit thinking that te reo Māori is a lesser subject and that Māori learners are lesser than Pākehā learners was evident then and still is today.

For the eFellowship I completed with CORE Education in 2021, I worked on the proposition of a Year 10 Māori whānau class. This was something quite different for the traditional co-ed school I worked in, especially when only 14% of the 1200 ākonga at the school and five of the 85 teaching staff were Māori. I developed a plan with three main aspects that I hoped would produce significant change in equitable teaching and learning. These were: 

  • cross-curricular learning through authentic learning experiences, 
  • embedding Te Ao Māori in the learning, and 
  • Creating a whānau environment. 

By creating a class of ākonga Māori, I believed a barrier to Māori success would be automatically removed as there was no opportunity for “unconscious bias” within the class. Whānau and ākonga would be invited to decide on the learning they wanted from the kaiako at the start of the year. Those decisions would be integrated across the four subject areas of English, Social Studies, Science and Mathematics and would be the basis of project-based learning. As kaiako, we would facilitate and identify the learning that was occurring naturally based on a belief that this approach should lead to a greater understanding of the learning by the students as well as its application. 

Sarah Lassen eFellows blog image

The quantitative and qualitative results spoke for themselves. Ākonga improved across the board in test results with the majority making a larger leap than their Pākehā counterparts. They also grew in confidence as learners and articulated this clearly. However, that “unconscious bias” that I believed would be removed was not. It was gone between the kaiako of the class and the ākonga but the wider school was a different story. 

The kaiako and ākonga of this class dealt with racism from a variety of sources and in a multitude of ways throughout the year. Relievers of the class would say inappropriate and racist things. One example of this was when a particular relief teacher asked the two “whitest” students in the class, “Why are you with this lot?” Another example was when a different reliever said to the class, “Is this why you wee Māoris can’t get along with anyone else? They keep you all together.” 

This blatant racism was, as you can imagine, not taken lightly by ākonga and they fought back as they knew how. They yelled, they left the room and they hid the relief teacher’s keys. Although their responses to these acts were not behaviourally acceptable, the pastoral team did not care about the why. The assumption that, due to previous pastoral records, our ākonga Māori just behave badly meant that discipline instead of understanding was the go to. Kaiako of the class were expected to manage every aspect of their students’ school lives by the pastoral team unlike what would ever be expected of any other classroom class teacher. 

Other staff members would make racist comments about the class to these kaiako and challenge why we would want to teach them as a whole. One of the kaiako even said that she felt, “like my skin colour has changed.” SLT approved the class going ahead but would not hear about the racism being faced and showed no support of the class. In fact, one student from the class had a verbal altercation with a staff member and was removed to alternative education without the normal processes being followed, those that any Pākehā student would have gone through. We, as kaiako of this class, all were able to acknowledge our white privilege from this experience with one teacher stating that she, “could not believe how blind she had been to what our ākonga Māori go through.”

What I have learnt from this experience is the importance of being actively anti racist. Our actions can not only give our ākonga confidence in us but they can bring about change. Change that is desperately needed in this country, in our education system. Below I have compiled a list of some of the things I learnt to do throughout the eFellowship and my action research project.

  1. Teach our history accurately – we must acknowledge the voices and experiences of Māori in our history and teach these. This may mean unlearning what we, ourselves, know and have learnt but it is vital in order to make change. Have students think critically about the voices that are heard and how we can include those that are often missed out. Ka mua, ka muri.
  2. Understand and explain that everyone is capable of racism, not just ‘bad’ people – if we continue to buy into the idea that only ‘bad’ people are racist, we are denying the ‘good’ people the chance to examine their own actions and thoughts and how these support and sustain the racial hierarchy in society.
  3. Acknowledge the harm that is caused by racism in all its forms – ākonga need to feel heard when it comes to the pain they experience due to both overt and covert racism. The impact of racism on a person is not lessened because someone did not intend to be racist.
  4. Do not be silent and encourage others to speak out – being silent when you observe racist behaviour is being complicit.
  5. Understand and acknowledge that every person’s experience with racism can be different.
  6. Be aware of the racial trauma of ākonga – we must support those who have been traumatised by racism, not just challenge those who instigate it. The system and the people within it largely benefit from white privilege which does not allow for the recognition of the generational trauma that has been felt by Māori in education. Be sensitive.
  7. Model the behaviour you expect in your classroom – be inclusive and demonstrate what this looks like. All ākonga should feel valued and safe in the spaces we create.
  8. Change should be the aim – blame and shame is not helpful so we must focus on how we can make and be the change we want to see.

Sarah Lassen eFellows blog image 2

We must be prepared to have difficult conversations. We must be prepared to learn, unlearn and relearn. We must be prepared to be uncomfortable. For our ākonga, we must be better.

You can read Sarah Lassen's 2021 eFellow's report here. 

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0800 267 301