Introduction: Te whakataki

This special edition of the New Zealand Journal of Educational Studies marks its 50th year, and emerges in the midst of exciting national efforts at educational revitalisation. However, there are questions as to the level of success of past efforts and there will be questions with regard to the present and the future: Will the present emphasis on national goals, key competencies, measured achievement, and regulated standards and curriculum frameworks, achieve the intended outcomes, or will this reform effort echo the challenges, trials and tribulations of the past?

Scholars from the sciences and humanities often suggest that societies and their systems have become increasingly sophisticated and complex over time. They propose that in earlier times the transition of knowledge, skills and attitudes down through the generations was relatively straightforward. The processes of learning were mainly informal and based on observation and imitation. Lawton and Gordon (2002) propose that children would watch and eventually engage. In Indigenous communities, additional learning was principally oral via collective storytelling and rote recitation, and aged and gendered divisions were in place for selected tasks. In Māori society (the Indigenous people of Aotearoa New Zealand), this is referred to as ‘taonga tuku iho’, literally meaning ‘treasures handed down’. Today’s educational contexts are considered to be more convoluted. Knowledge is disparate, expansive and, increasingly, organised into disciplines, with specialists dominating certain fields. Eurocentrism has tended to describe and organise ‘other’ communities according to the notion that there is one central and ideal form of society that predetermines the direction that progress should take. This is the converse of the He Awa Whiria (Braided Rivers) approach which proposes that a discerning acceptance of both Western and Indigenous knowledge entities is more effective than the acceptance of either on their own (Macfarlane 2012; Macfarlane et al. 2015).

A growing body of evidence worldwide supports the proposition that teaching is becoming more complex (Broad and Evans 2006; Bull 2009; Parrouty 2014). As demands upon teachers increase, and their work becomes more pressured and challenging, it is vital that they become reflective practitioners if they are to survive and grow professionally. An important aspect of this reflection is the cultural imperatives brought about by the growing ethnic diversity in early-childhood settings, classrooms and schools. Eisner (1994) asserts that no single educational programme or approach is appropriate for all learners, everywhere, forever. Which educational imperatives have resonance depends on the characteristics of those whom the programme is designed to serve, the context in which they live and the cultural values they and their communities embrace. Eisner further contends that these contexts and values change over time simply because the practice of education is dynamic, which, in turn, means that educators cannot retain a static suite of fixed solutions to educational issues. It is to some of the contexts and lived experiences of the past 50 years of Māori education, and the values and worldviews that educational communities were expected to embrace in those times, that we now turn.

An Encumbered Past: Ngā taumahatanga o mua

Over 50 years ago, the Hunn Report (1961) provided quantitative analysis of the educational and social disparities experienced by Māori at that time. One of its recommendations to address the disparities was to develop policies to integrate Māori and Pākehā (non-Māori of European, usually British, descent) and thereby bring Māori into a modern society. According to Tooley (2000), this recommendation aimed to continue to assimilate Māori by concealing their asymmetrical social status compared with non-Māori,Footnote 1 and fundamentally promoted the notion that for Māori to achieve in education, they needed to metaphorically shed the cultural factors that defined them as Māori, at the school gate. According to Durie (2003, p. 91), the Hunn Report presented a “… new class of urban dwellers—poor, unhealthy, housed in sub-standard homes, more likely to offend, less likely to succeed at school”. Yet another review (Department of Education 1971a) described Māori cultural experiences and background as being something that is other than the norm; by inference, a deficit and, therefore, an impediment to Māori achieving educational success.

Expanding on the educationally encumbered past, Harris (2007, 2008) refers to the intriguing sets of challenges experienced by Māori. She cites research that describes how many Māori took responsibility for the reported educational underachievement of Māori students during the 1960s and how some Māori leaders cooperated with the state to develop ways to rectify it (Walker 1996). For example, in the early 1960s, John Waititi, a noted leader from Ngāti Porou (tribal group of the East Coast of the North Island), launched a major fundraising campaign and established the Māori Education Foundation (now the Māori Education Trust), with the basic objective of encouraging and financially supporting Māori into tertiary education. Strategies such as the introduction of Māori language and culture into the curriculum, the establishment of homework centres, the formulation of Māori education committees, and the adoption of the play centre for preschool education were all attempts to overcome problems within Māori education (Walker 1996). This reflected international trends, such as the Head Start programme, to implement policies and compensatory education programmes to educate the ‘deprived child’ and to intervene early enough so that “the child can recover from the lack of intellectual stimulation at home and the dearth of language …” (Pearl 1991, p. 285).

A handbook for teachers, Māori Children and the Teacher (Department of Education 1971b), circulated in Aotearoa New Zealand in the early 1970s. The handbook perpetuated notions of deficit, deprivation, a restricted language code, and provided what was considered to be a poorly informed outline of Māori culture. The decade that followed saw in-service staff development courses for the provision of language enrichment programmes for Māori learners (Simon and Smith 2001); for example, a book entitled Language Programmes for Māori Children (Department of Education 1972) provided guidelines to teachers about enhancing language development and ways to compensate for language ‘difficulties’. Metge (1990) contends that although there was an acceptance that Māori learners came to school with different, rather than limited, experience, the compensatory language programmes aimed to remediate language according to the worldview of non-Māori. Metge (1990) maintains that compensatory programmes have continually emerged to ‘fix’ Māori learners, to bring them ‘up to standard’ so that they can cope with the ‘normal culture’ of the school.

In the 1970s, multiculturalism and biculturalism gradually surpassed the integrationist policy of the 1960s, largely because Māori educational underachievement came to be viewed as a result of monocultural education practices. Multicultural education was a way of addressing cultural difference; however, although students were taught about cultural diversity, the teaching practices used and values taught were not necessarily applicable to Māori students (Walker 1990). Bishop and Glynn (1999, p. 40) declare that, “Contemporary Māori culture remained invisible in the majority of mainstream classrooms”. In addition, the majority of teachers were part of the dominant culture, although many did not perceive themselves as having a culture and promoted a non-culture phenomenon (Bishop and Glynn 1999). Non-Māori-oriented rationale continued to be the reference point for comparison, the yardstick by which performance should be gauged (Alton-Lee et al. 1987), resulting in Māori learners sometimes defining themselves as being culturally inferior. These experiences reinforced the notion of ‘other’ (Bishop and Glynn 1999; Macfarlane 2012).

Deficit thinking was not alleviated by this ‘multicultural’ stance. The Department of Education was under pressure from Māori to address the Māori–non-Māori relationship and to implement a policy of biculturalism. Arguments for a bicultural policy were based on the need to recognise the Treaty of WaitangiFootnote 2 as a founding document of Aotearoa New Zealand. Māori people were seeking a visible language and cultural identity in their own country, and inclusion in the mainstream education system on equitable terms. They argued that the dominant–subordinate pattern needed to be removed from the relationship between Māori and non-Māori in order to develop the potential of partnership envisaged in the Treaty of Waitangi principles. Relationships with other peoples could then be developed from this bicultural basis (Macfarlane et al. 2008).

Another thrust occurred by way of the 1975 state-initiated programme, Taha Māori (teaching related to Māori customs and perspectives). This programme was embedded in bicultural policies but McMurchy-Pilkington (2001) identified discrepant practice related to the policies. For example, at the chalk-face, although Taha Māori was integrated into the timetable, it was taught in English and by non-Māori teachers who received some support from Resource Teachers of Māori. It is little wonder the initiative failed to create bicultural New Zealanders, fulfil Māori aspirations for cultural and language revival, increase Māori participation in education, or change the power relationship between Māori and non-Māori (Jenkins and Ka’ai 1994; Macfarlane 2012; McMurchy-Pilkington 2001; Smith 1997). Scholars such as Jones et al. (1990) and Smith (1986) stated that Taha Māori mainly served the needs of non-Māori, and endeavoured to acculturate Māori. These statements challenged the loosely introduced, and poorly understood, notions of biculturalism of the time, and were forthright in expressing concerns that such introductions had the potential to be a disguise for assimilation.

The Labour Government of the 1980s and 1990s took a more neoliberal line toward educational policy, and many educational structures were overhauled. Notwithstanding countless recommendations and reports, the education policies and systems, when taken in their wider context, continued to marginalise and devalue Māori cultural traditions (tikanga Māori), Māori language (te reo Māori) and Māori ways of knowing (mātauranga Māori) within teaching and learning practices, protocols and policy-making. In short, the principle of equity inherent in the Treaty of Waitangi was not being honoured. There have been numerous educational developments and initiatives in the 175 years since the signing of this historical document. However, even as the nature of the Treaty partnership continues to be keenly debated in Aotearoa New Zealand, colonising systems have ensured the privileging and central positioning of Western critical theory and thinking in curricular and assessment practices as the exclusive way of interpreting and making sense of the “real” world (May 2004; Smith 1991; Walker 1973). There is a contention that the knowledge and solutions for resolving many of the disparities that exist for Māori do not reside within the culture that has marginalised Māori, but are within the Māori culture itself (Bishop et al. 2003; Macfarlane et al. 2014). In that regard, a number of key events stand out as markers that have determined the life-force of Māori education in the past 50 years.

Out of the Shadows: Te putanga mai

The education system that was designed and implemented in the 20th century has had to change in order to meet the needs of a restructured economy, a rapidly changing labour market and the exponential development of technology. Globalisation is opening up new markets and providing greater wealth (for some); however, it has also exerted pressure on education systems to respond to the consequential challenges and transformations. In terms of education, “The rise of economic rationalism … has seen market forces (supply, demand, competition and choice) and economic measurements applied to education along with the partial withdrawal of government funding” (Wadham et al. 2007, p. 55). Meanwhile, the education system was still attempting to provide education that would be responsive to Māori values, concepts and ways of knowing. Out of the shadows and almost concurrently came a flurry of activity in the 1990s and 2000s.

Some exemplary resistance initiatives in practice are Kōhanga Reo and Kura Kaupapa Māori. Durie (1998) and Pihama et al. (2004) reiterate that these initiatives employ kaupapa Māori principles that challenge mainstream views, and provide a ‘for Māori by Māori’ alternative for the educating of Māori tamariki (children; younger learners), and society. ‘Te kōhanga reo’ translates as ‘the language nest’, and Kōhanga Reo are total immersion language programmes in which tamariki are immersed in te reo and tikanga Māori within a culturally supportive and safe environment (Royal-Tangaere 1997). These early-childhood centres were set up as a strategy for the nurturing and revitalisation of Māori language, culture and traditions. Bishop (1998) states that Kōhanga Reo were the result of Māori communities wanting “an education that maintained their own lifestyles, language and culture while also enhancing life chances, access to power and equality of opportunity” (p. 5). Since the establishment of the first Kōhanga Reo in 1982, the growth of this movement has been rapid, with a number of Kōhanga Reo now established across the breadth of Aotearoa New Zealand, in both rural and urban communities. Kōhanga Reo are bound by their underpinning philosophy that provides for the nurturing and revitalising of the language and customs, and the whānau (extended family) approach they employ. Whānau play an integral part in the decision-making process and have control over what is learned, how it should be learned and who is involved in that learning. This philosophy is based on traditional concepts of learning in which whānau played a fundamental role in educating of tamariki.

The establishment of Kōhanga Reo created the obvious need to provide the young graduates with a means of continuing their kaupapa Māori education. State schools were unable to cater for the needs of Kōhanga Reo graduates. In 1986 a group of whānau associated with Kōhanga Reo conceptualised an alternative—but culturally aligned—schooling option, Kura Kaupapa Māori, and withdrew their tamariki from the state schooling system. The first Kura Kaupapa Māori was established in 1985 at Hoani Waititi Marae (Nepe 1991), and operated outside of the state schooling system. In 1990 Kura Kaupapa Māori was incorporated into education legislation and became (in the eyes of the state) a legitimate state schooling option.

Both of these initiatives have created a learning environment that, as the norm, locates Māori culture and tikanga at the core; have been built on Māori philosophies; and have been created and managed by Māori for Māori. These educational initiatives are critical in supporting language revitalisation efforts, are assisting in the politicisation and conscientisation of the Māori people, and are making a positive difference in the nurturing of Māori identity within Māori children. However, despite Māori education gaining the impetus to come from out of the shadows, more official plans and policies were to come.

The introduction of the Ministry of Education’s Ten Point Plan for Māori Education (1993a) signalled a brave attempt by the then Labour Government to demonstrate further responsiveness to Māori as ‘the Treaty Partner’ within the education sector. This was partially in response to the Report of the Taskforce to Review Education Administration (1988), commonly known as the Picot Report, which clearly outlined the gaps within the highly centralised and overly complex administration system (Ministry of Education 1998). Furthermore, the New Zealand Curriculum (Ministry of Education 1993b) outlined two key aims specific to the principle within the document, namely the spirit of partnership. The first was to develop and implement the policy to address the ultimate goals of improving the participation rates and achievement levels of Māori learners; the second was to assist in retaining te reo Māori in order for Māori to be able to contribute socially and economically at the highest level. In late 1999, Closing the Gaps (Levy 1999) was an official policy (and slogan) for assisting socio-economically disadvantaged ethnic groups through targeted social programmes that would put Māori-determined strategies and solutions to the forefront. Despite good intentions, the policy attracted unfavourable press and, in fairly short order, was withdrawn from prominence.

Arguably, a ‘kindle’ for responsive change was the series of Hui Taumata Mātauranga, the national education summits. In February 2001 the first Hui Taumata Mātauranga provided a framework for considering Māori aspirations for education. It resulted in 107 recommendations based around family, Māori language and custom, quality in education, Māori participation in the education sector and the purpose of education. There was also wide agreement about three goals for Māori education: to live as Māori; to actively participate as citizens of the world; and to enjoy good health and a high standard of living.

The second Hui, in November 2001, discussed leadership in education and examined several models for Māori educational authority. The contribution of other sectors to Māori educational success—and failure—was acknowledged, and the Hui agreed that education could not be considered in isolation of other sectors and other aspects of positive Māori advancement. Five platforms for educational advancement were identified: educational policies of the state; broader social and economic policies and a mechanism for assessing the educational impacts of all social and economic policies; the relationship between Māori and the Crown; Māori synergies; and leadership.

In March 2003 the third Hui focused on the quality of teacher education and the tertiary education sector, and the interface between te ao Māori (the Māori world) and te ao whānui (the global world) was contextualised as a place where the curriculum, workforce development, quality assurance and relationships were shaped.

The fourth Hui, in September 2004, took a significantly different slant in that it engaged the voice of Māori learners. Whereas the previous three had been led by education planners and providers—and, as a result, emphasised the views of parents, teachers, community leaders, policy analysts, academics and politicians—the fourth Hui centred on the views of rangatahi (young people; secondary school learners). Based on these discussions and video interviews, coupled with input from panel discussions with pākeke (young adults) and kaumātua (Māori elders, both men and women), several ‘themes for success’ were explored at the Hui, and five were given particular emphasis: relationships for learning; enthusiasm for learning; balanced outcomes for learning; preparing for the future; and being Māori.

National Curricula and National Strategies: Ngā marautanga

In the late 1980s and 1990s, government policy reflected the attitude that socio-economic and not ethnic factors were the root cause of underachievement (and not just for Māori). This resulted in educators focusing on social backgrounds, parenting and other societal influences. This has been described by the Ministry of Education and other commentators as ‘deficit theorising’—thinking about Māori students in terms of what they are perceived to lack, which can lead to educators thinking that problems lie with the student, not with the teacher or the system. Since 2002, and prompted by Alton-Lee’s (2003) report on quality teaching for diverse students and Corner’s (2008) call to reduce deficit theorising (cited in Report to the Auditor General 2012), there has been increasing commitment to strengthen the evidence base discourse that informs quality and practice. What has emerged from the shadows are new or revised curricula, a national strategy for Māori education, and a repositioning of the emphasis such that pedagogical approaches, strategies and constructs would be more culturally responsive to priority learners.

The New Zealand Curriculum is premised on a vision for young people to become confident learners, able to learn with others and contribute positively to society (Ministry of Education 1993b, 2007). This curriculum is designed for Years 1–13 English-medium schools. Te Marautanga o Aotearoa (Ministry of Education 2008b), while not a direct translation of the New Zealand Curriculum, sets the direction for teaching and learning in Years 1–13 for both Kura Kaupapa Māori (Māori-medium schools) and Māori-medium classrooms in mainly English-medium schools. Te Whāriki: He Whāriki Mātauranga mō ngā Mokopuna o Aotearoa: Early Childhood Curriculum (Ministry of Education 1996a) is a bicultural document for all early-childhood education services. To take a leaf (or, more aptly, a strand) from Te Whāriki, the term ‘curriculum’ is used to describe “the sum of the experiences, activities or events, whether direct or indirect, which occur within an environment designed to foster learning and development” (Ministry of Education 1996a, p. 10). Margrain and Dharan (2011) espouse that this interpretation of curriculum acknowledges a far broader view of learning than merely focusing on traditional learning areas such as science and mathematics. They add that this wider lens includes aspects of a learning environment such as relationships, community, contribution and reflection. It should be noted that these learning environments are enabled to decide much of the content of, and contexts for, learning—within these important domains.

The New Zealand Curriculum (Ministry of Education 2007) identifies five key competencies as a signpost to capabilities for life-long learning, namely: thinking; using language, symbols and texts; managing self; relating to others; and participating and contributing. The Ministry proposes that people use these competencies to live, learn, work and contribute as active members of their communities. More complex than skills, these competencies draw on knowledge, attitudes and values in ways that lead to action. They are not separate or stand-alone. Together, they are the keys to learning in every learning environment (Ministry of Education 1996b). The competencies continue to develop over time and are shaped by interactions with people, places, ideas and things. Students need to be challenged and supported to develop them in contexts that are increasingly wide-ranging and complex (Te Kete Ipurangi 2014).

In 2006, the polarised achievement of Aotearoa New Zealand students was highlighted in findings of the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development’s (OECD’s) Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) study (2006). Although the data indicated high levels of achievement in literacy and numeracy for New Zealand students overall (that is, above the OECD mean), further analysis of the data indicated that Māori learners were well below this mean (Telford and Caygill 2007). This has been euphemistically described as the long tail of disparity (Airini et al. 2007; Hattie 2003). Could the disparity be explained (in part) by a systemic failure to redress or respond to the gap between the theoretical statements and teaching practice? Whether the relevant approach is referred to as culturally responsive, Māori-preferred, place-based, culturally infused or bottom-up, a plethora of studies is available worldwide to illustrate that when Indigenous minority learners’ culture is acknowledged, tapped into and infused in the learning context and content, it “build[s] a bridge to school success” (Reyhner, cited in Starnes 2006, p. 384).

In 2008, the Ministry of Education (2008a) introduced an education strategy, Ka Hikitia: Managing for Success, to raise Māori student achievement. This education strategy was generally perceived to be a welcome response to the clarion call from education and community leaders for both purposeful directives and focus areas that are specific and clearly laid out. This strategy challenged the education sector to work with increased urgency to make a positive difference for Māori learners. It acknowledged that inequitable educational outcomes for Māori had persisted for too many years and that addressing these disparities was now a priority for all involved in education. Ka Hikitia: Accelerating Success (Ministry of Education 2013) is the education strategy sequel that further challenges the sector to work with greater urgency in order to make a positive difference for Māori learners. Ka Hikitia (Ministry of Education 2013) takes an evidence-based, outcomes-focused approach, and is wholly premised on the notions of realising Māori potential and of collective responsibility. Fundamentally, the strategy requires all those involved in education to make an attitudinal (or paradigm) shift—from a perspective that focuses on remedying deficit and dysfunction, to a position of agency that targets potential and opportunity.

‘Ka hikitia’ means literally ‘to step up’ or ‘to lengthen one’s stride’ and, therefore, as an education strategy, it requires stepping up the performance of the education system to ensure Māori are experiencing educational success—as Māori. The strategy concentrates on what the evidence shows will achieve a transformational shift in the performance of the education system for and with Māori. For example, concerns have increased in recent years about the over-representation of Māori learners in referrals to special education behaviour services. An abundance of research, spearheaded by special education leaders such as Jill Bevan-Brown, Ted Glynn and Sonja Macfarlane, indicates that many behaviour referrals for Māori learners result from misinterpretation by teachers of particular behaviours (Bevan-Brown 2003; Macfarlane 2009; Macfarlane et al. 2012). Research also indicates that many teachers fail to understand how their classroom processes and practices undermine effective learning for Māori learners and those from ethnic minority groups (Bevan-Brown et al. 2015; Macfarlane and Macfarlane 2014; Nieto et al. 2015; Townsend 2000). Often, teachers misinterpret what learning actually looks like (Nuthall 1997; Wheldall and Merrett 1989; Ysseldyke and Christensen 1998) or explain an obvious lack of learning as arising from issues external to the formal learning setting itself (that is, attributable to family dysfunction and/or the young person’s attitude and aptitude (Bishop et al. 2007; Macfarlane et al. 2014). Such forms of deficit theorising are, according to Prochnow (2006), exacerbated over time by the cyclic nature of cause and effect, which entrenches a culture based primarily on teachers and learners “talking past each other” (Metge and Kinloch 1984, p. 9).

Threaded throughout Ka Hikitia is the inherent value of ‘culture’, and it is clearly articulated within the national strategy that ‘culture counts’ as a key driver (Bishop and Glynn 1999; Penetito 2006). Culture and performance are inextricably interwoven, in the education system as well as in the learning setting. Māori students are more likely to achieve when they see themselves, their whānau, hapū (subtribe) and iwi (tribe) reflected in the teaching environment, and are able to ‘be Māori’ in all learning contexts. Ka Hikitia clearly stipulates the need for educational leaders to use and act on the evidence about what works best for Māori, to actively practise and advocate the strategy approaches, to value culture and to be more accountable for Māori educational outcomes.

Taking a comparative viewpoint to the New Zealand Curriculum key competencies, Macfarlane et al. (2008) describe five compelling cultural constructs from within a Māori worldview that highlight Māori traditional understandings of human development, learning and teaching. These five cultural constructs—known collectively as He Tikanga Whakaaro (Grace 2005)—are aligned but not identical in meaning to the key competencies as outlined in the following Table 1.

Table 1 Comparison of New Zealand Curriculum key competencies (Ministry of Education 2005) and He Tikanga Whakaaro (adapted from Grace 2005)
Full size table

The five constructs of He Tikanga Whakaaro resonate with one of the Ka Hikitia focus areas—‘engagement’—which reiterates the significance of the learning environment being inclusive of and responsive to the needs of the learner. This is important for tamariki and rangatahi experiences of schooling as there are culturally linked ways of thinking, feeling and acting that are acquired through socialisation (Phinney and Rotheram 1987). Educators need to be aware of distinctive cultural nuances, such as preferred learning styles, body language, facial expression and voice projection, because such aspects have the potential to affect the processes for making meaning, relating to others and so forth. It is important to refrain from interpreting these aspects through generalist lenses.

Five Decades and Five Seminal Contributions: Ngā kete e rima

It is clear that, in the first three decades (from the 1960s) of the last 50 years, the levels of understanding and integrity of communication were not quite right. It could be argued that too many educational leaders were affected by cultural blindness—a propensity to not pay due attention to cultural imperatives. Improvement of this impairment occurred slowly, incrementally, over time. At the turn of the century and into the last decade and a half, a sea change has been apparent—one that looks beyond symptoms and causal factors, and toward transforming the cultural interface of education in Aotearoa New Zealand, for the better.

Aotearoa New Zealand education professionals are not insignificant path-makers in the theorising, design and implementation of processes and programmes for the enhancement of Māori education. Scores of culturally responsive programmes, approaches, frameworks and schemas have been designed and implemented effectively in schools in the quest for better outcomes for Māori learners, and the many books and articles on Māori education have contributed to ngā kete mātauranga (the baskets of knowledge). At this juncture, an attempt will be made to replenish a basket with five contributions that have, metaphorically, provided nourishment for education consumers over the last five decades. Choosing five seminal units of work for discussion here from such an outstanding range of contributions was not an easy task. In the final analysis, the criteria for selection pertained to endorsement, application and the impact of these contributions—and with these criteria came one basic question: ‘Where would Māori education be without them?’ After summoning courage, the five contributions selected are, in chronological order: Ako (1982), Te Whare Tapa Whā (1984, 1994), Te Whāriki (1996a), Decolonizing Methodologies (1999) and Te Kotahitanga (2001), and a brief outline of each is now offered.

Pere (1982) has been the principal contributor to the traditional theorising of Ako as an educational construct, and her mana (influence) has a firm place on the educational landscape, nationwide. The concept fundamentally proposes that the learner and teacher are simultaneously juxtaposed, so that the learner is at the same time the teacher, and vice-versa. Transmission of knowledge and understanding is ignited within interactions between the learner and teacher that employ the art of whakarongo (listening), titiro (observing) and kōrero (speaking). Although the concept of ako is not exclusively Māori, it is deeply embedded in pre-European and contemporary Māoritanga—epistemologies, values, ways of being and knowledge (Pihama et al. 2004). Pere herself refers to the hermeneutic difficulty of expressing the meanings of one culture in the language of another (Pere 1994). Over time, ‘ako’ as a concept has been taken to relate to the wider definition of pedagogy within a Māori context.

One of Māoridom’s preeminent educationalists, Mason Durie, is the architect behind what can rightly be considered a classical insignia in this country’s health and education principalities—Te Whare Tapa Whā (Durie 1984, 1994). The model is founded on a holistic approach to lived contexts for Indigenous peoples, and especially for Māori. In its essence, the model typifies the four walls of a whare (house), symbolising interconnecting and interdependent dimensions for Māori wellbeing: taha wairua (spiritual); taha hinengaro (mental and emotional); taha tinana (physical); and taha whānau (relational and social). The uptake of this model in the health and education sectors has been far-reaching and outstanding.

Tilly and Tamati Reedy rarely seek credit for the culturally innovative content that defines the Ministry of Education’s (1996a) Te Whāriki: Early Childhood Curriculum, but their role in the conceptualisation, positioning and interpretation of the Māori constructs within it has been of great significance. In its entirety, Te Whāriki provides a holistic and supportive context for all pre-school children to learn within a bilingual and bicultural educational setting. Te Whāriki is ‘the mat’ woven with principles, strands and goals that have their genesis in te ao Māori—the Māori world.

Published at the turn of the century, Linda Tuhiwai Smith’s book, Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples (1999), has been one of the most influential contributions to Māori and Indigenous literature locally, nationally and internationally. Smith’s work assertively refers to centring Indigenous concepts and worldviews and coming to know research and theory through Indigenous lenses, for Indigenous purposes. It is counter-hegemonic, informative and challenging. Decolonizing Methodologies is a trailblazer in that it has put Māori education on the map of the research world.

Since coming on the scene in 2001 and up until 2013, the Ministry of Education-funded research and development project, Te Kotahitanga, has held a place of note in the view of many educators in Aotearoa New Zealand. The largely North Island-based project has provided teachers with professional development opportunities to support the implementation of culturally responsive strategies based on caring relationships with rangatahi in secondary schools. Student voice has been a significant factor in the emergent thinking, theorising and, eventually, application of Te Kotahitanga’s structured processes. The project’s leaders have taken their expertise into international settings (Bishop et al. 2014).

These five contributions have been iconic in terms of the impact that they have had on the educational terrain of Aotearoa New Zealand. Ako, Te Whare Tapa Whā, Te Whāriki, Decolonizing Methodologies and Te Kotahitanga have features in common: each is inclusive of mātauranga Māori, is an inspiration to Māori scholars and those interested in the advancement of Māori scholarship, and is efficient in terms of the benefits that accrue from their energy and essence. Further, each values the axiom of ‘ngā tapuwae o mua, mō muri’; that is, respecting the past while simultaneously making a difference for the future.

Where would Māori education be without these five contributions? Not as enriched, it might be argued, because these contributions have helped define sociocultural views of Māori education. These contributions have become part of the sociocultural atmosphere, they have made salient certain images, and their respective settings and vernacular have been instrumental in promoting a view—a way of looking at things—as well as a range of content to be observed. But, without these five contributions, Māori education would not be ‘dead in the water’. People, Aristotle once observed, by nature seek to know (Eisner 1994). In that vein, there is a multitude of educators who are like architects; they would frame their own conceptual schemas and build resources that are functional and serviceable to Māori and Indigenous communities.

Reclaiming Cultural Legacies: Me tū tonu tātou

In spite of the restlessness brought about by the impacts of colonialisation and the continued dishonouring of their rights, many Indigenous cultures around the world have been relentless in preserving the very fabric of their cultural identity. Indeed, with resoluteness, new generations have started reclaiming the legacies of their ancestors (Gomez 2007), and Māori society is no exception (Matamua 2013; Walker 1996). The taonga tuku iho (heritage; something treasured that is handed down) manifested in the wisdom of pūrākau (stories), waiata (ensembles) and whakataukī (poetry) have provided links to the legacies of the past as well as continuity routes for future pathways. Consequently, a cultural renaissance and revitalisation continues today despite a barrage of adversities. Māori, with voices of reason, are now seeking to have greater participation in current organisational structures, specifically in reclaiming their rights to participate in governing, decision-making processes and informing the theoretical underpinnings of professional practice approaches in education.

Reflecting on the last half-century of Māori education, it can be stated that there has been a shift in mindsets, sometimes moderate and sometimes salient, that have contributed toward some transformative educational repositionings. This mindset shift has been premised on a genuine willingness on the part of teachers, principals, academics and policy-makers to challenge and revise their worldviews—to be willing to look through the lenses of others and see, experience and produce awarenesses and understandings that acknowledge the taxonomies of conventional knowledges and Indigenous epistemologies. This tikanga (ethos) needs to extend into the next 50 years so as to drive ongoing culturally responsive systems of learning, teaching, programme planning, assessment, implementation and evaluation. When such shifts transpire, rediscovery and reclaiming ensue. Those who have usually occupied the centre space can rediscover a narrative that was hitherto rarely recognised, without having to concede everything from the knowledge systems to which they are accustomed. And those who have usually been relegated to the margins can reclaim a space to express their knowledge systems without fear or prejudice.

Nāu te rourou nāku te rourou, ka ora ai te iwi

With your food basket and mine, there will be plenty

(Let each contribute)