Reflections Upon Departing Aotearoa
For more than forty years I have been of service to women who experienced sexual and domestic violence, who were battered and tortured, betrayed and desecrated. These women protected their children. They did everything in their power to shelter their offspring from the brutality they encountered repeatedly in their homes.
These women are survivors who long to piece themselves together and go beyond the vicious trauma and shock they endured. They usually cannot afford expensive therapies. They are not drawn to psychotropic therapies, as their experiences were hallucinatory by definition and their panic attacks perpetuate that disembodied state. They seek reconstruction of their beings, their spirits, their lives, and frequently, their bodies that have endured attack upon attack. They worry over their children and seek resources for them so that they can live healthy lives.
I am one of those women and I am also the daughter of one of those women.
In Aotearoa, New Zealand, over the last few months, I have been granted the great good fortune to be in the presence of Kuia, or Māori female elders. These remarkable women have survived even greater levels of violence, yet they are intact, whole, and they are embodiments of wisdom. They have survived the intention of genocide.
The New Zealand that we see in films and that people place high on their bucket list as a place to visit is stolen land. The Māori people were ravaged by colonists. Māori women were raped and discarded, often when they were pregnant. The abundance of the land was extracted and illegally confiscated. Sickness was delivered to people who were completely unfamiliar with the imported infectious diseases brought by settlers and sailors, soldiers and missionaries. The Māori language, Te Reo, was stolen out of their mouths.
It seems to me that the innards of this country of Aotearoa and its indigenous peoples are kept pulsating and vibrant by the Kuia. To this day the Kuia line is alive with a deeply lyrical, practical, stalwart and staunch commitment to Tangata Whenua, the People of the Land. Though I am not Māori, I have been welcomed by this circle of Kuia, and I want to express my gratitude for that. These women are inspirational models for all the women I have served and all the women I will serve. The quiet, irrefutable, practical and hard-working tenacity of Māori women is a beacon of female leadership.
This post is to convey my gratitude to people like Te Puea, a brilliant political strategist, community organizer, and healthcare advocate, and Heene Pore, a warrior fluent in three languages, a mother who protected her children at all costs, an embodiment of compassion, offering water to wounded British soldiers even when it was she and her fellow-fighters who wounded them whilst defending their land from them.
I bow to valiant land-protector and protest movement leader Eva Rickard, to the vibrant educator Rose Pere, and to Maata Wharehoka, Rangatira of Parihaka, whose biography I am writing. I want to introduce their soaring spirits to all the people who have never heard of them, who have been deprived of their inspiration.
These Kuia were always defying the odds. They knew full well that the odds were against them, and that did not stop them. Please underscore that for your own reference.
Consider that the British colonialists came with guns, cannons, and with trained soldiers by the thousands. They came with militia, armaments and strategies for a modern warfare about which Māori knew nothing. And Māori fought back valiantly. Not only in battle— they fought against invasion by developing a vision for peaceful co-existence that they never abandoned. That is what stands out, brighter and more stunning than the history of the battles. The war history is an old story. The story of how peace will win is the new story, written by women.
Let me repeat: The odds were always against Māori, but still they fought, in every way possible, for their land and their people. Women and men, side by side, strategized together. Out-maneuvered, outnumbered, and undermined, Māori were never victimized. In this way they were always triumphant, though that is not how the old stories are told. That is why it is time to write the new stories. The stories of the women.
I will speak more about how Māori women are triumphant to this day in my forthcoming book. I will speak of their leadership that is a harbinger of women’s unprecedented rise in this fourth wave of feminism. I want to highlight how Māori women are non-competitive, transparent, and authentic in their leadership. These are the gifts given to me in the sacred circle of the Kuia.
Kuia teaching is woven into parenting, into writing, into gardens, into harvesting harakeke and making baskets and mats, into songs and protest movements, into land marches, into systemic change in healthcare. Kuia leadership is in food, in classrooms, agriculture and water protection, in bedtime stories, and in social and political change.
KUIA TANGA
Hearts broken by deceit, betrayal, racism, disrespect, sexual violation,
Humiliation, and loss upon loss,
The Kuia rise and form Kuia-tanga: The Wisdom Circle of the Elder Women.
The Karanga* rings out for all women to hear.
Listen to the Kuia who are passing and the Kuia on the rise.
They resonate with Mana*. They are Kaitakitanga Wahine*,
They are Kuia Stewards for the Tangata Whenua, the People of the Land.
We are forever charged as stewards.
We are forever one.
We are forever birthing and deathing, birthing and deathing, birthing and deathing.
My fierce, rooted Māori Mothers and Sisters,
You who defy the theft of your land and your children,
You whose hard-working hands have a grip on what is to be done,
You exhale the breath of life into Aotearoa,
You fill up this long white cloud with your staunch enduring love,
And from your transmission to me, I carry that breath of aroha
In the basket you have woven for me,
The basket of fibrous soul.
NOTES
*Karanga: Call of Welcome
*Mana: Spiritual Force
*Kaitakitanga Leadership, Stewardship
*Wahine: Women
It is with the deepest respect and humility that I offer this Porokai, this farewell song, to the Kuia of Taranaki. I will do my best to honor the gifts imparted to me of simplicity, presence, honesty, humility, and devotion to Tangata Whenua.
With gratitude also to the Puke Ariki Library and the Taranaki Research Centre that were such hospitable grounds for my inquiries. Thanks also to the New Plymouth Coastal Walkway, the path I walked daily to my perch at the library and in the Research Centre where my discoveries enhanced my direct experiences with the Kuia at Parihaka.
Thank you so much for sharing these precious experiences and stories.
"The Maori were never victimized." ~ I think this is the key phrase here. It speaks of resilience, and an incredibly strong connection to their own source.
"These Kuia were always defying the odds. They knew full well that the odds were against them, and that did not stop them." These are the women who must write the new story. The world needs their story. 💕🙏