The Māori privilege debate continues to do the rounds.

Over recent years, as I have become more involved in my own tribal activities, it irks me that many communities still cannot get a grasp of the place of mana whenua within the wider community.

This was best played out in my community last year during the New Plymouth District Council Māori Wards referendum that went to the vote, and was resoundingly voted against by 83% of the wider community.

The online and letters-to-the-editor rhetoric in the local Taranaki Daily News reminded me of the 1950s and 60s’, “We need to watch out for these uppity Māori”. And, amidst the usual diatribe came the, “Why should Māori get special treatment?”, and other Māori-privilege comments.

It made me think, are Treaty of Waitangi workshops and cultural responsiveness programmes really hitting the mark at a school level, let alone amongst our wider society? Are they getting us to a place of really seeing Māori as tangata whenua, as mana whenua? It has been 40 years since the beginning of the Māori renaissance of the early 70s — why are we still grappling with these treaty issues? I often think and publically announce that we have come a long way in those 40 years of Kōhanga Reo, Kura Kaupapa, Māori Radio, and TV, treaty settlements, but still 83% of my community said No to Māori representation.

And that is the crux of what the Treaty means for us as Māori. Māori are tangata whenua, one of the treaty partner’s, though some people still want to dispute that. That partnership gives Māori mana whenua rights and responsibilities. We are not just another member of our multi-cultural society. For Māori, this is our homeland, the only place we can speak our language — an official language — since 1986. The only place we can live our cultural beliefs, to just be Māori. Other cultures can return to their homeland to speak their language, to live within their culture.

Taranaki is my pou. When I look to my mountain I feel connected, I feel grounded, I feel strong. Taranaki is my tipuna, my identity. When I travel away and return, I see my maunga and I know that I’m home.

I visit my mountain often, when I need time to think, to reflect and to be re-energised. My two boys have started coming with me and it is exciting to see them connect as I have from before I can remember.

Beneath its shadow lies the rugged Taranaki coastline, the whenua where my tipuna lived. My father was born on our family farm next to my marae at Puniho Pā and my favourite memories are coming here as a boy with my cousins. This is my turangawaewae, like my mountain, it is the place that anchors and sustains me.

Ko Taranaki te maunga
Ko Matanehunehu te awa
Ko Tarawainuku te marae
Ko Puniho te papakāinga

When my wife was hapū we looked at different options for a place to raise our family. We wanted our children to know who they are and where they are connected. Puniho Pā was the obvious choice.

Following conversations with whānau, kaumātua and marae trustees we relocated two old buildings, and joined them together to make our home at the pā. We established a garden, built a deck, installed a coal range and solar panels to cook and heat our water. We are very much amateurs at living here but have benefitted from the learning that has happened over the last seven years.