Mā Muri,Mā Mua: Use the Past to Inform Our Future

Abstract

In this rangahau (research) Indigenous Māori in Aotearoa, New Zealand shared important understandings and practices related to their own experiences of conception, pregnancy, birthing, and babies. Simultaneously they showed us how research of this kind might be better undertaken. These understandings were confirmed and expanded upon in the literature, by seminal Māori scholars. Together, these contemporary rememberings and authenticated writings began to reveal how rich heritage narratives, and more critical actions could inform a more culturally sustainable future.

Introduction

This paper reflects on a three-year, Marsden research project in Aotearoa, New Zealand, working with different indigenous hapū (sub-tribe/s) and iwi (tribe/s). Kaumātua (elders both male and female) and whānau (family members), from three marae (cultural meeting space) communities, were asked to share their understandings and practices as they related to their own tribal narratives of conception, pregnancy, birthing, and communication with babies.

Given the contexts for this study, we were mindful of what research methodologies would work most effectively for these participants, for the kaupapa (agenda or focal point) of this rangahau, and for the potential revitalization and renormalization of ancient knowledge and ways of being. Therefore, in undertaking this study, we initially positioned it as kaupapa Māori; that is “a culturally defined theoretical space” that “relates to Maori philosophies of the world, to Maori understandings on which our beliefs and values are based, Maori worldviews and ways of operating” (Pihama, 2015, p. 7). As Māori ourselves, we understood that Kaupapa Māori methodologies enable the development of spaces for revitalizing and privileging Māori epistemologies, knowledge, and ways of being. For kairangahau it means creating spaces where Māori participating in the rangahau are in control of how their stories are told and the lens through which they will be legitimated and authenticated. Accordingly, these processes can also be seen as critical for decolonization as they reject the idea of kairangahau imposition over the lives and cultural experiences of Māori (Lee, 2015).

This paper, however, examines how our research participants helped us to more deeply consider and even problematize the term Māori in these methodologies, for a more traditional view of the importance of whānau, hapū and iwi. We understand that in precolonial times, it was these groups who would have surrounded each tamaiti (child). The term “Māori”, literally meaning “normal or ordinary”, whilst being indigenous in derivation, is understood to be a mainstream construct with early colonial origins. The term Māori was designed to collectively group and categorize the indigenous tāngata whenua (people of the land) population and keep them distinct from the colonial or settler population (Mead, 1997). Undoubtedly those of us who perceive ourselves as Māori, do not generally understand ourselves to be one single group, but rather members of separate tribal groups, each with our own ancestral stories, our own dialect and with our own special association to the land where our people settled and have lived for centuries (Durie, 1997).

Overview

We begin this paper by understanding the importance of our participants’ cultural identity through their hononga (links) to the whenua (land). Then we explore relevant understandings related to mātauranga (knowledge) and rangahau. We use “Mā Muri, Mā Mua” to better understand the positioning, methodology, methods, and outcomes of this study across the three contextual domains of: cultural identity, mātauranga and rangahau. In this statement, muri is the person’s back, their past; mua is the person’s front, their future. Mā means through the influence of… Through the influence of my past, I walk forward into my future or summarized here as we “use our past to inform our future”. This advice came from a well-regarded historian and noted orator of Waikato Tainui, the third community in which we undertook this research. We use Mā Muri, in order to better understand the collective hopes and aspirations of our participants’ ancestors for Mā Mua—the future wellbeing of their mokopuna (grandchildren).

This paper is less about traditional Māori experiences of conception, pregnancy, birthing and babies, and more about undertaking rangahau with communities in ways that deeply respect and align with the tellers of the stories and any new knowledge that has been generated. We believe these considerations have critical and powerful implications for self-determination at a whānau, hapū and iwi level, rather than across a created homogeneity that involves great diversity and historical ways of understanding and describing their own identity and their own imposed reality as kairangahau and knowledge developers.

Mā Muri

For some, who can trace back in time, Mā Muri means beginning with the precolonial tribal stories of pre-creation and creation (Marsden, 2003). Some might suggest it is about returning to the ūkaipō, the place of spiritual and physical nourishment (Boulton et al., 2021; Hikuroa, 2017). Others might say that this is one in the same. Whatever the case, there would be general agreement that as tangata whenua, the connection of people to the land is significant to one’s identity as iwi, hapū or as Māori. However, for many urban Māori, forced to relocate off tribal lands from the 1960s, and whose children were educated in a colonial system that belittled or denied them of this knowledge, their links to Mā Muri, through the land, and through te reo (language) Māori is now tenuous at best (Penetito, 2004). Jackson (1992) suggested that for many Māori:

…the attack on their soul was so terrible it led to a weakening of faith in all things which had nourished it. The demeaning of the values which cherished it, the language which gave it voice, the law which gave it order, and the religions which was its strength, was an ongoing process which ultimately affected the belief of Māori in themselves. (p. 4)

Tangata Whenua

The link to the land results from the specific waka or canoe on which key ancestors first migrated to Aotearoa from across the Pacific, and from whom all members of particular iwi descend. At times, several different tribes might have descended from separate important ancestors, said to have traveled on the same waka. This common ancestry linking people from different iwi also connected them to specific areas of land and landscape features where often their waka landed, and their iwi originally settled. Therefore, from this view of the world, waka and iwi membership, together with explicit links to the land and waterways, to tūrangawaewae (birthplace) and marae, provide the very foundations of their cultural and societal identity.

After successive generations, many Māori people can still demonstrate descent from waka and key ancestors, enabling them to claim their iwi and hapū identity. This allows them to establish functional whānau relationships and share a common heritage with a large number of people. Therefore, identity is defined not only by one’s blood links and links to important ancestors from the past but to contemporary links with people to whom one is whānau or where relationships are through marriage. Attachments to waka, iwi and hapū are deeply important to defining one’s identity. Whakapapa (genealogical connections) is not only about the identity of an individual but is also about their connection to an immediate group and extended group of people who share a common genealogy. Whakapapa provides not only the relationships or connections between iwi, hapū and whānau members but underpins the structure of a community that includes rangatira (leaders), kaumātua, pakeke (adults), rangatahi (young adults), taitamariki (adolescents), and tamariki mokopuna (younger children of both genders) the future generations.

Within the context of whakapapa, each group of people has an important role in generating and maintaining relationships and promoting interactions for the involvement and participation of all concerned. Whakapapa also provides a continuum of life from what existed, Mā Muri, to what is living, and it extends these connections into the future, Mā Mua. Tupuna (those who have sprung from a common lineage) both living and dead, have long been respected. The philosophy behind whakapapa is that everything that passes from one generation to another, traditionally, passes from one ancestor to another, from the deceased to the living. Without these connections, tribal groupings would not be who they are today, nor would they continue to hold these taonga tuku iho (values, beliefs, traditions, history, customs and rituals), increasingly being re-valued by contemporary Māori, as guides for the future (Berryman, Rameka, & Togo, 2022; Berryman, Kay Rameka, & Mauria Togo, 2022). It is from these teachings that tribal groups can and do rekindle the connections to their ancestors and understand how their ancestors actually lived, interacted and learned from each other and from the land. Whakapapa therefore is fundamental to how one comes to understand the world and one’s place within that world (Rangihau, 1977). In her seminal doctoral thesis, Mead (1997) cited G. Smith’s (1987) contention of whakapapa as a strategy for learning to read the printed word. She goes further to contend whakapapa as “a way of thinking, a way of learning, a way of storing knowledge and a way of debating knowledge” (p. 210).

In traditional tribal society, whakapapa links were often integral to who was chosen to learn, what they learned and how and by whom new knowledge and learners were developed (Berryman, 2008). Individuals in a whānau were not expected to learn everything, but each person was responsible for learning and understanding different concepts that worked interdependently in order to benefit their community and so too their whole society. An important reassertion of traditional knowledge, highlighted by Kruger (1998) suggested that participation in learning, no matter how small, was a collective enterprise of families and whole communities. This concept meant that whakapapa were important when choices were being made around who would learn what. The notion of leaders as rangatira, who from the two components of this word, were able to ranga (weave) tira (groups of people together), pertained to life in general as well as to who would participate in learning and in the creation of new knowledge through activities such as rangahau. Usually, the rangatira of the group would choose the person deemed to have the best experience or potential and skills for the task. However, there was a clear understanding that they did not learn for themselves or for their own private good, they learned for the collective good (Berryman, 2008). Therefore, the wider experiences of the group were available, tasks were shared, and outcomes were more likely to be owned by all. These are important principles to inform contemporary contexts for rangahau and the re-generation of mātauranga for affirming our own cultural identity into our future.

Mātauranga Māori

Mātauranga Māori is the term utilized to express collective tribal knowledge (Mead, 2003) that integrates knowledge derived from tupuna Māori including Māori perspectives, ways of knowing, being and doing. Mātauranga Māori has been described as “embodied knowledge, understanding, wisdom and practices” (Lipsham, 2020, p. 18). Cultural knowledge is the basis from which people comprehend reality, including what is viewed as authentic, probable, possible, and impossible (Marsden, 2003). Winiata and Luke (2020) explain that mātauranga Māori is “a body of knowledge that seeks to explain phenomena by drawing upon concepts handed down from one generation of Māori to another” (p. 1). This practice of intergenerational transmission promotes the preservation and expansion of mātauranga Māori, stating that mātauranga Māori “has no beginning and has no end” (p. 1). It is continually being augmented and perfected with each generation adding to the collective mātauranga. Mead (2003) emphasizes the expansiveness of mātauranga Māori and its progression from one generation to the next. He explains the term mātauranga Māori:

… encompasses all branches of Māori knowledge, past, present, and still developing. It is like a super subject because it includes a whole range of subjects that are familiar in our world today, such as philosophy, astronomy, mathematics, language, history, education and so on. And it will include subjects we have not yet heard about. Mātauranga Māori has no ending: it will continue to grow for generations to come. (pp. 320–321)

When the lived reality of tribal groups can once more be located within Mātauranga Māori, and Māori theoretical constructs of potential, then feelings of wellbeing are more likely to be enhanced—a state Durie has described as mauri ora (2001).

Unfortunately, colonial beliefs about the indigenous tribes in Aotearoa contributed to the near destruction of their mātauranga and te reo (Penetito, 2010; Skerrett & Ritchie, 2021), and as identified above, ultimately affected the belief of many Māori, in their own identity (Jackson, 1992). Joint historical narratives between colonizer and Māori reveal deeply entrenched prejudices that reflect the discourses embedded in the Doctrine of Discovery (Berryman, 2022). This pathologising and impositional power-relations influenced the first colonial encounters with Māori (Jackson, 2021; Mutu, 2018; Ngata, 2019). These same discourses and power-relations have continued to be perpetuated throughout society and formal schooling today (Pihama & Lee-Morgan, 2019; Simon, 1992). These contexts have resulted, not only in cultural fugue but disparities being entrenched across the range of social indices (Berryman, 2022). The silencing of our challenging historical encounters (MacDonald, 2018) and the benefits of traditional Māori knowledge have created the need to revitalize and amplify tribal voices to support this knowledge (Berryman, Rameka, & Togo, 2022; Berryman, Kay Rameka, & Mauria Togo, 2022).

Western Science

Māori are no strangers to research, in fact research of Māori has been a feature of the colonization process since shortly after first contact with Europeans, when they brought their scientists to study and record the fauna and flora of the new lands that ‘they discovered’. Native fauna included indigenous peoples who were also studied and recorded, and this has continued throughout colonization. L. Smith (1999) states that western research and theory have validated and legitimated colonial research practices, effectively silencing Māori voices while emphasizing the voice of the colonizer. Western researchers have collected the knowledge of indigenous peoples and then represented it back through the lens of the colonizer. Western cultural constructs have specified the research methodologies, methods and ethics, resulting in findings that privilege western cultural ascendancy, while devaluing the legitimacy of Māori cultural constructs and locating Māori in a lesser developed category (Bishop, 1997; Mahuika, 2008; Mutu, 2011; Smith, 1999). This power to define and classify, positioned Māori as research subjects, or ‘guinea pigs’ to be studied, and non-Māori researchers as the experts on Māori (Berryman, 2008; Mutu, 2018). L. Smith (1999) states:

The word itself “research” is probably one of the dirtiest words in the indigenous vocabulary… The ways in which scientific research is implicated in the worst excesses of colonisation remains a powerful remembered history for many of the world’s colonised peoples. (p. 1)

This has caused deep mistrust and skepticism about what motivates western research and whether benefits for Māori are likely. In fact, decades of research have resulted in very little benefit for Māori, who recognize that research was “simply intent on taking ‘or stealing’ knowledge in a non-reciprocal and often underhand way” (L. Smith, 1999, p. 176). Furthermore, it has worked to reinforce discourses of intellectual, social, and cultural deficiencies being attributed to Māori (Bishop & Berryman, 2006). L. Smith (1999) argues that the craving of the west to extricate and take ownership of Māori ways of knowing, their creations, and imagery, whilst rejecting those who developed them is appalling.

Othering is another construct of impositional power relations that can occur within research projects, usually, on behalf of their institution. This often involves the kairangahau asserting control through the research relationships, and over what constitutes authentic knowledge. This upholds the supremacy of western norms, with discourses of power and privilege, epistemologically transforming into a new form of xenophobic nationalism. This new discourse positions the white Euro-American male as the universal subject of history, a situation that according to Tiakiwai (2015) ensures “Power is thus, maintained and the place of the minority indigenous peoples continues to be subordinated and ‘othered’” (p. 80).

Rangahau (Research)

Increasingly, kairangahau Māori and others are resisting the norms of traditional western research methods, that situate power and control with the researcher (Berryman, Kay Rameka, & Mauria Togo, 2022). From a more critical or Māori perspective, power should not be centered on the kairangahau, rather it should be situated with the participants inside the rangahau (Tiakiwai, 2015).

Traditional attitudes to knowledge impact directly on rangahau theory and practice (Tiakiwai, 2015). Western research operates on the understanding that all information is open to scrutiny and interpretation. For Māori, mātauranga was viewed as tapu (sacred or restricted), and often belonging to specific whānau, hapū or iwi. The mana or the power and prestige of these groups was linked to their mātauranga, and so it was imperative that the genesis of mātauranga was and is respected and protected. It is therefore in tribal and familial locations, that mātauranga of whānau, hapū and iwi exist, and where the scrutiny of pakeke (adults), tūpuna (grandparents/ancestors) and whānau ensures scholarship (Mahuika, 2015). It is in these locations that kairangahau Māori often work, with the understanding that they have the responsibility to protect the mātauranga being shared if they are to uphold the mana of the whānau, hapū and iwi.

Mead (2016) points out that the mana of the kairangahau is also an issue if the shared information is not given the consideration required or if it is mishandled. He highlights the principle of tika, “the very basis of the word tikanga” to follow correct procedures (p. 351). When all aspects of the rangahau are correct, Mead asserts that everyone concerned with the project can be empowered and positive about all aspects of the rangahau, including the methodology, methods, findings, and dissemination. Mead further outlines values to be kept to the forefront including manaakitanga (hospitality and caring), whakapapa, mana, tapu, utu (repay, revenge), and ea (satisfy). He adds that, “Research in a Māori sense seeks to expand knowledge outwards (te whānuitanga), in depth (te hōhonutanga), and towards light (te māramatanga)” (p. 351). For this reason, it is accepted that when the kairangahau works hard to research the topic there will be worthwhile outcomes for all concerned. Mead contends that research requirements for Māori are as burdensome as western scholarship, and could in fact require greater responsibility to the participants than western scholars, suggesting that:

Making mistakes, or missing a line of traditional waiata, or forgetting a name in a whakapapa line, or getting one’s facts wrong were all held to be ritual errors punishable by divine means. In additions to the threat of divine intervention there was also the stigma of whakamā (shame), which was socially damaging to the individual. (p. 351)

Kaupapa Māori

Kaupapa Māori involves viewing the world from a Māori epistemological perspective. It assumes the normalcy of Māori ways of knowing, being and doing (L. Smith, 1991). Within this concept, kaupapa has been translated as, philosophy, principle, plan, strategy, or a way forward. Inherent in the notion of kaupapa is the concept of progressing purposively and proceeding strategically (L. Smith, 1999). G. Smith (1992) contends that, “Kaupapa Māori speaks to the validity and legitimacy of being Māori and acting Māori: to be Māori is taken for granted. Māori language, culture, knowledge, and values are accepted in their own right” (p. 15).

Kaupapa Māori theories concentrate on subjects that are of importance to Māori. Eketone (2008) emphasizes that Māori aspirations, philosophies, and practices are foundational to intervention strategies and methodologies that aim for affirmative transformations for Māori. Kaupapa Māori theories, assert and validate te reo, mātauranga and tikanga Māori and uphold Māori advancement by confronting structural inequities, and reclaiming and revitalizing te reo, mātauranga and tikanga Māori (G. Smith, 1997, 2003). Pihama (2015) explains that Māori have their own unique knowledge base, and that this knowledge base has accrued through the history of Māori as first people of this land.

A Kaupapa Māori approach emphasizes an interpretation of knowledge, that is interwoven with mātauranga and tikanga Māori (Cunningham, 2000). According to G. Smith (1997), Kaupapa Māori is both theory and transformative praxis. Kaupapa Māori requires a critique of existing constructs, and works to create transformative strategies, thus creating spaces for other cultural perspectives to be acknowledged and validated. Kaupapa Māori centralizes the place of mātauranga Māori knowledge, relocating it from “abnormal” or “unofficial knowledge” to positioning it as equal to western knowledge. Barnes (2000) makes the point that, Kaupapa Māori starts out as a challenge to recognized norms and expectations related to knowledge and how it is constructed and seeks answers from a Māori worldview. Critical reflection, reclamation and reconciliation are essential elements of Kaupapa Māori.

Kaupapa Māori rangahau is a “culturally defined theoretical space” in that it “relates to Māori philosophies of the world, to Māori understandings on which our beliefs and values are based, Māori worldviews and ways of operating” (Pihama, 2015, p. 7). It privileges Māori epistemologies, mātauranga, and ways of knowing, being and doing, ensuring Māori participants contributions are legitimated and authenticated. Kaupapa Māori rejects the notion of the kairangahau imposition over the practices and lives of Māori. Rather, it requires that kairangahau not only have understandings of mātauranga and tikanga Māori but can demonstrate deep respect for rangahau participants. Kaupapa Māori methodologies are culturally invested, where the “Māori language, knowledge and culture are valid and legitimate, and has a standpoint from which research is developed, conducted, analyzed, interpreted and assessed” (pp. 6–7). L. Smith (2015, p. 48) describes Kaupapa Māori as “research by Māori, for Māori and with Māori”.

Kaupapa Māori rangahau entails resistance and revitalization, and integrating theories that are entrenched in the Māori world (Berryman, 2008). It can incorporate both qualitative and quantitative rangahau methodologies whilst traversing disciplines, domains and topics. In effect, Kaupapa Māori is a theory for social change (Eketone, 2008), which entails reclaiming spaces for Māori voices to be heard. Mahuika (2008) explains:

Arguably the ultimate goal of kaupapa Māori research, like much of the scholarship from indigenous and minority peoples, is to challenge and disrupt the commonly accepted forms of research in order to privilege our own unique approaches and perspectives, our own ways of knowing and being. (p. 4)

To some extent many of these principles align with critical methodologies, however, critical theories is not the basis from which they have grown. As kairangahau Māori, our cultures and backgrounds embed us and the kaupapa of our rangahau in the tikanga, mātauranga, and understandings integral to Māori contexts, much of which is implicitly understood and yet, often unconscious. When investigating with whānau Māori, being culturally aligned and connected is fundamental to our theoretical and research paradigms.

Rangahau

A kaupapa Māori methodological approach was utilized for the rangahau that this paper emerged from. Māori practices, as previously discussed, are accepted as legitimate and integral to these philosophical understandings. The critical questioning of colonial research constructs to express Māori ways of researching and reclaiming traditional narratives were normalized. An important step in this process of unlearning and relearning is in the articulation and legitimation of alternatives that confront the power of colonial customs and norms.

Accordingly, a deliberate attempt was made to employ kairangahau who could either whakapapa to specific marae or who had developed relationships of trust and respect by working with the hau kainga (marae whānau or home people), over extended periods of time. We deliberately looked for kairangahau who would be positioned as insiders to the kaumātua and whānau at each of the marae within which we would seek to position our study. We hoped that, with appropriate funding, these kairangahau and their wider marae whānau, would host our initial meeting on their marae. To be made known to the people of the marae, the wider research group would arrive as invited visitors and go through cultural rituals of encounter such as pōwhiri or mihi whakatau. As a part of these cultural relational rituals, we would lay down the rangahau in the form of a koha, an offering that the host could then determine to accept or not. Positioning the wider research group as visitors and the kaupapa rangahau as a koha meant the power to welcome or accept sat firmly with the hau kainga.

Ngā Kōrero: Mātauranga-a-Whānau

Mātauranga-ā-Whānau is a methodology that follows processes that have been handed down from tupuna through the generations to nurture future generations (Lipsham, 2020). It is a uniquely Māori methodology in which mātauranga is being constructed in cultural contexts where power is shared through cultural relationships and responsibilities are embedded within whānau histories. According to Lipsham, Mātauranga-ā-Whānau relates to understanding experiences, worldviews and practices when working with Māori, in a manner that makes sense to Māori. In this way contemporary cultural narratives were also able to be confirmed and expanded upon by seminal Māori scholars.

At our initial encounters, we understood that the hau kainga were engaged in cultural processes to decide whether the wider rangahau team and their kaupapa would be invited into their rōpū. If this did not happen, we knew that the rangahau would not proceed. Hau kainga had questions they wanted answered, and it was clear that our acceptance or not, still had a lot to do with our own cultural demeanor. Questions, implicit or otherwise included: to whom did we whakapapa? Were we tika in our relational approach or kuare (arrogant)? What benefits would the hau kainga receive from participating in this rangahau? What would the personal costs be to members of the hau kainga? What did hau kainga already know about our credibility? As each of these initial cultural encounters progressed, these questions continued, expanded, and they remained throughout the unfolding of the rangahau.

As the rangahau aims were discussed and kaumātua participation was conformed, possible whānau participants were identified. At subsequent, jointly planned hui, open-ended questions were utilized in group-focused interviews as conversations. Whānau who contributed to these discussions had their stories transcribed, checked, annotated, and agreed upon through processes that involved whānau and kairangahau in an interdependent, dialogic, and relational endeavor. Qualitative research methods made most sense in these contexts. Transcripts were analyzed according to the themes that were the most frequently occurring from one community to the next. These themes were identified by whānau as being their own legitimate stories. Importantly these themes were not only about the intended research topic, but they were also about how the research should be undertaken and understood, and who had the power to define and share the knowledge being generated.

Rangahau-a-Whānau/Hapū/Iwi

The dominance of the western positivistic concept, with its focus on objectivity, and its notion that kairangahau are outsiders, who can scrutinize without bias and without being connected, is problematic for insider kairangahau, such as Māori working with Māori (L. Smith, 1999). Kairangahau Māori are repositioning the power within the community rather than with the rangahau; prioritizing the power of whānau, hapū and iwi involved in the rangahau (L. Smith, 1999). Furthermore, the development of indigenous rangahau and agenda, according to L. Smith (1999), “privileges indigenous concerns” (p. 107), resulting in indigenous practices and involvement being viewed as normal.

Tiakiwai (2015) refers to Tsianina Lomawaima’s assertion that indigenous peoples are becoming more proactive, in that they are taking a more vigorous position on the ‘why’, the ‘how’ and the ‘who for’ of research on Native communities. Minority peoples across the world are ‘taking back’ control of their cultures, languages, and knowledge (L. Smith, 1999). The development of kaupapa Māori theory provides a means for Māori to ‘take back’ their control over things Māori.

For kairangahau Māori who aim to support the empowerment of their communities this is especially difficult (L. Smith, 1999). This is because insider rangahau including meanings and understandings within social and cultural contexts cannot be objective, in the way traditional western, positivist research specifies. As insider kairangahau there are frequently personal connections to the site of the rangahau, and the kairangahau participants. L. Smith (2006) makes the point that kairangahau Māori who work with Māori communities and who originate from the communities, may experience the multiple layers of marginalization. She states, “When Māori researchers research ‘with’, ‘for’ and ‘as’ Māori we are working within this multi-layered, multi-dimensional dynamic” (p. 5). She defines this as “socially interested”, or possessing a “standpoint,” facilitating “insider” research (p. 6). Furthermore, kairangahau Māori need to “live with the consequences of their processes on a day-to-day basis for ever more,” and this is also the case for their families and communities (L. Smith, 1999, p. 139).

Elders in the Research Process

The role of tribal elders, as guides, critics, and mentors—thus becomes critical. For the insider kairangahau, this consequence ensures that they examine how the rangahau is represented, and the impact rangahau findings may have on the communities involved. Hiha (2015) explains that tikanga are examples of the diversity within Māori. As whānau and hapū engaged in wānanga they employed their right to explain and practise tikanga in their own ways, and be represented in their own ways. The philosophies that each tribe adheres to may be the same, but the expression of the philosophies can differ from one tribe to the next. Some kairangahau are looking to move past the Kaupapa Māori model of identity and mātauranga, focusing their rangahau on their own tribal environments. The significance of specific tribal and hapū interpretive frames have been mentioned by growing numbers of Māori academics. Mahuika (2015) references seminal scholar from the Tūhoe tribe, John Rangihau, who asserted that each tribe has its own history, with certain tribal histories not necessarily able to be shared by outsiders. Rangihau questioned how he himself, could share the history of Ngāti Porou, Te Arawa, or Waikato if he is not of those people; how could he, as a Tūhoe person, speak on behalf of another iwi?

Mahuika (2015) states that, “Beyond a Kaupapa Māori approach, the more tribal-focused emphasis similarly places our mātauranga at the forefront, but it does so at a more intimate level, where being Māori is displaced by the more immediate realities of iwi” (p. 68). He adds that being Ngāti Porou does not mean a rejection of other identities, but rather it is a celebration and respect of specific whakapapa connections:

A Ngāti Poroutanga approach places our local knowledge and theories of the world at the heart of our scholarship. It takes for granted that our mātauranga forms the foundations upon which a narrative of our history should be produced, interpreted, and understood. (p. 71)

Throughout the rangahau, it became clear that kaumātua were providing the same messages, with regards to the importance of researchers working from inside the whānau, and their ability to speak on topics relevant to their own hau kāinga; not just working as Māori on behalf of Māori. It was possible from this position that other kairangahau and participants could be brokered in, if they respected and adhered to the tikanga being set. Their role would be that of an invited visitor and learner. However, if they broke protocol, they ran the risk of having their transgressions recognized and being reprimanded. The following four themes were prioritized about how this type of rangahau played out, and how these themes were directly connected to the hau kāinga from every marae group we worked with.

Power and Resilience

Hapū and iwi cultural sustainability and belonging are often linked to sites of cultural reproduction such as marae. These sites allow whānau to experience and connect with their own environments, their people, processes, and structures. Within urban and indeed wider societal settings of modernity, there are definers of being Māori that can order, shape, or constrain an individual’s ability to belong as hapū and iwi. The whānau groups in this study would contend that no matter where one resides, for cultural sustainability to occur, their own people, symbols and narratives must be reclaimed, revitalized, and contribute to their sense of cultural connectedness and identity. Power and resilience come from whanaungatanga (kinship connections); being with like-minded people on kaupapa that are shared, collectively nurtured, able to promote self-determination and flourish.

Marae as Connectors

Marae as tūrangawaewae, or one’s particular cultural home-base, have identifiable and known rangatira who continue to protect, revitalize, and maintain pre-colonial knowledge through a range of traditional and modern genre and technologies. Change requires becoming more consciously aware of and able to resist the current reality of colonial privilege and positional power in society. Then, replacing this with cultural concepts of power such as relational interdependence, strong cultural identity, self-determination, and pride.

For example, hau kāinga at one marae were accessing funding from the Crown to overturn the ravages of colonization. The initiatives we heard about included health and wellbeing, birthing, and parenting practices, te reo me ōna tikanga (language and cultural practices), caring for the environment, providing cultural guidance, employment, and governance. We heard that this work involves: “ngā pito ki ngā pakeke” (birth to adulthood). In relation to this work one speaker said:

These entities create communication platforms via emails, post, ZOOM, Microsoft teams, website updates and information, videos, and other resources for our whānau keeping them informed about home without having to be at home. It’s a way of sharing and keeping our people informed on pertinent matters, be it cultural, political, educational, or other.

Kaumātua from this marae and whanaunga (extended relations) from across the region kept the art of whaikōrero (formal cultural speechmaking) alive by teaching the next generation of speakers. Women also led learning of traditional waiata (songs) and composition so that the tapu and mana of their speakers were most appropriately enhanced and returned to a state of noa (lack of restriction) following their whaikōrero.

Connecting through Historical Sites

Kaumātua in the Wairarapa region highlighted the importance of knowing iwi and hapū through their pūrākau or ancient cultural narratives. They wanted whānau to know their local cultural sites of significance and be able to sustain the related narratives of these places and people for their own tamariki. The kuia (senior woman) advised that if whānau wanted to truly connect to their pūrākau then they needed to visit the whenua (land) to feel its wairua (spirit).

Local pūrākau were shared with whānau as they visited Kourarau and Hurunui-o-Rangi, sites of cultural significance for Ngāti Kahungunu ki Wairarapa. The kuia made powerful connections to the ancestors who first lived on these lands. By connecting whānau to the generations who had first settled here, she was passing her tribal pūrākau on to another generation. Most had never visited these locations before and knew little about them. Whānau talked about the privilege they felt from connecting with this kuia and visiting their own iwi, cultural sites of significance.

These connections have developed into long-lasting relationships of support, further strengthening the development of their own cultural knowledge and te reo Māori. This visit provided an opportunity to connect as a group, to connect to the whenua, and to listen to previously unheard pūrākau provided by kaumātua. This visit also recognized and respected the mana of kaumātua, their wealth of knowledge and generosity of spirit as knowledge holders.

Cultural Leaders and Relationships

In the final marae community, because of a Covid lockdown in the region, initial and subsequent hui were all undertaken online. Online hui were managed by the kairangahau from this whānau, with members of the wider rangahau team also participating online. The importance of tikanga was still maintained in the online environment as mātauranga-a-whānau was being revealed and shared. Online conversations were more limited by time and technological expertise and therefore were somewhat different. The voices of young parents spoke confidently in this virtual space, and, while the voices of kaumātua were clearly present, their voices may well have been compromised by the lack of opportunities provided by face-to-face contexts in which the conversations throughout the day could have continued. As a kaumātua himself, the kairangahau in this community, ensured safe cultural spaces, where whānau participating in the rangahau were in control of what they would do, how their narratives would be told and the lens through which they would be legitimated and authenticated.

In all communities kairangahau sought to model tikanga and show deep relational respect so that participants could both contribute to and benefit from the mātauranga being generated through the rangahau endeavors. It became clear after much discussion that the methodology utilized in the rangahau was more than Kaupapa Māori rangahau. Rather, it was more akin to rangahau-a-whānau/hapū/iwi; rangahau defined by whānau/hapū/iwi to reclaim their own mātauranga. By whānau/hapū/iwi, with whānau/hapū/iwi and for whānau/hapū/iwi. All three kairangahau, lived in the marae communities. Two had whakapapa connections to the marae and were hau kāinga. One had strong whanaungatanga connections through living in the community and collaborating with kaumātua and iwi over decades. These cultural relationships ensured that participants trusted kairangahau and were happy to talk openly about their lives, their upbringings and their understandings of traditional Māori birthing and nurturing in their specific cultural contexts. Other kairangahau, who were not similarly connected, respected the privilege that they had been accorded to learn from these spaces.

Conclusion

Rangahau-ā-Whānau is an approach to rangahau that draws on knowledge and practices that are entrenched in whānau but surrounded and supported by related hapū and iwi. Thus, the cultural grounding of whānau as insiders within the rangahau ensures that relationships and responsibilities are shared in pursuit of the intergenerational revitalization, maintenance, and transmission of their own mātauranga. This cultural grounding ensures that rangahau-a-whānau practices go beyond a group coming together to act as a whānau-of-interest (Bishop, 1996). Kairangahau are part of the hau kāinga, realizing the rangahau from inside the inter-related support systems of whānau, hapū and iwi, and as such they are accountable back at all levels to identifiable whānau members.

Mā Muri, Mā Mua or reclaiming the past to guide the future is central to our research. This is especially important given the harmful effects that ongoing, colonial research has had on many Indigenous peoples. Through more critical research methodologies, that promoted the power and resilience of self-determination at the level of kaumātua, whānau and hapū through their hau kāinga connections to marae, this study took on a more critical, decolonizing stance. Standing tall in one’s own cultural identity and extending this right to whānau is essential. Mā Muri necessitates the recognition of mātauranga-ā-whānau/hapū/iwi located with the kaumātua and whānau who shared their knowledge; not only with others from their hau kāinga, but with others who have been invited in, or with whom this knowledge was able to be shared.

Although kairangahau gained new understandings and knowledge from the participants, the sharing of their traditional stories from their collective past, across the three participating communities, was far more valuable moving into the future for the whānau, hapū, the young parents, midwives, and kaiako, who participated. This intergenerational handing down of knowledge from one generation to the next ensures the reclamation, preservation, and growth of mātauranga-ā-whānau/hapū/iwi, from the past into the future, for the coming generations.

For kairangahau, Mā Muri, Mā Mua necessitates the development of an environment where participants control their stories and storytelling, ensuring the legitimacy and authentication of their knowledge and contributions. It necessitates rangahau that re-orders and re-normalizes the epistemologies, ways of being and the knowledge of pre-colonial tangata whenua. Mā Muri, Mā Mua negates the imposition into the lives and practices of Māori, so common in western rangahau since the beginning of colonization. Rangahau ā whānau/hapū/iwi supports the accumulated and passing down of knowledge—Mā Muri, Mā Mua.