The Limit Does Not Exist: Kura Kaupapa Māori and Beyond

The Limit Does Not Exist: Kura Kaupapa Māori and Beyond

Conventional education often shackles success to outdated standards and narrow frameworks, measuring achievement by grades or awards. The dynamic force of Kura Kaupapa Māori (KKM) throughout the motu redefines what it means to achieve greatness. Kura Kaupapa Māori are Māori language immersion schools, where teaching reflects Māori knowledge and culture. Tradition, far from being a relic, serves as a powerful catalyst for Māori, propelling the transformative educational approach.

The true impact of Māori immersion efforts, however, remains largely unsung. Too often, the achievements of its graduates are overshadowed by misconceptions such as a lack of academic rigour or resources, and may be undervalued by mainstream narratives criticising KKM kids for being “ill-equipped for the real world.” Sharing the stories of these tauira is essential – not just to correct these misguided perceptions, but to celebrate how KKM nurtures leading figures of our generation who thrive in both te ao Māori and te ao Pākehā. 

Their journeys illustrate more than just academic milestones and the resurgence of te reo Māori. They represent a deliberate reclamation of identity that transcends the confines of the classroom, challenging conventional definitions of success and carving new pathways forward.

To gain a deeper understanding of the importance and impact of KKM, Critic Te Ārohi speaks with a few wāhine who have walked this path. These graduates have not only excelled academically but are thriving in their professional lives and proving that the limit truly does not exist for alumni of the kōhanga reo generation.

Shakayla Andrews-Alapaki

News Reporter, Tahu News

Waikato-Tainui, Ngāti Mahuta, Pare Hauraki, Ngāti Paoa, Kāi Tahu, Kāti Māmoe, Waitaha, Niue

Shakayla is a powerhouse in constant motion. From commanding the mic as the go-to MC for any (and every) event to living out of a suitcase as she chases stories across Te Waipounamu (South Island) in her role as a News Reporter for Tahu News, Shakayla moves seamlessly through a world that demands both agility and unwavering focus. 

Shakayla is nearing the completion of her degree in Māori and Pacific Island Indigenous Studies at Otakou Whakaihu Waka, all while making waves in a broadcast career that has already taken her as far as France to cover the 2023 Rugby World Cup. But no matter where she goes, Bluff will always be home for this wahine.

Reflecting on the journey that has taken her here, Shakayla admits that the path could have looked a bit different. “I've gotta say, [Kura Kaupapa Māori] did save me, in a way. I was at a mainstream school prior to attending Kura Kaupapa Māori. My dad wanted me to pursue te reo Pākehā [English language], me ngā hua o te ao Pākehā [and the fruits of the Pākehā world], but I just didn't feel like it was a fit for me,” Shakayla shares. “When I first attended [Te Wharekura o] Arohenua, it saved me from not knowing who I was as a tangata Māori.”

Returning to her roots was a pivotal moment that set her on the path to becoming a leading voice of our generation. Her upbringing in te ao Māori not only gave her the tools to reclaim her identity but fueled her relentless drive to amplify Indigenous voices on a larger scale. Whether she’s presenting the news, engaging with communities at local events, or representing Māori on an international stage at the Rugby World Cup, Shakayla’s commitment to telling Māori stories remains at the core of everything she does.

Growing up in a predominantly Pākehā region, Shakayla had assumed English would take precedence, and that shaped her initial expectations of kura kaupapa. “There's heaps of Pākehā down where I'm from, so I just thought that was the way,” she said. “People think that it's a place where you go out to chill and end up failing.” But that’s not true at all, Shakayla says: “We've got the highest passing rates in NCEA.”

One may wonder why outsiders continue to underestimate the system when the success rates in KKM schools are so high. Perhaps this is due to a bias against Indigenous knowledge systems, or prevailing stereotypes around Māori achievement. Shakayla attributes these successes to the cultural grounding and unique support students receive, allowing them to excel academically while staying connected to their identity. “Everything we do is in te ao Māori and is [...] centralised around te ao Māori as well,” she explains.

It was this grounding that led Shakayla to seek more when she decided to study at the University of Otago. Reflecting on her decision, she said, “I just didn’t want to be around that āhuatanga (vibe). The Pākehā influence around that town was not gonna get me anywhere as a person – so I needed a way out,” she said, referring to the broader environment of her hometown, where a pervasive non-Māori influence shaped daily life in ways that felt limiting. In these spaces, where Indigenous identity often took a back seat to mainstream expectations, Shakayla felt stifled, recognising that the lack of cultural affirmation would not support her personal growth.

The University of Otago, while often perceived as a predominantly Pākehā institution, offered her something different – a chance to escape the constraints of her hometown and step into a new environment where she could define her own path. Though Otago may be seen as "extremely white" in terms of its student body and culture, Shakayla found it appealing because it represented a space where she could challenge herself academically, while maintaining the cultural strength instilled by her wharekura education. With Otago’s strong Māori and Pacific Studies programme, it became the natural next step in her journey of self-discovery and academic success. “It goes back to my parents,” she says. “As a half kūmara, half coconut, I also opted into picking up a couple of Pacific Island papers my first year, and I really liked it.”

Today, Shakayla does her whānau and community proud as one of the region’s leading news reporters at Tahu News, a regional news outlet based in Te Waipounamu. “I cover stories from the top of the South, from Te Tauihu to Awerua, to Bluff, to home,” she explains. “I just get around covering all these stories – ahakoa he iti, he nui rā nei [regardless if it’s big or small], I'm always at the kaupapa.”

When asked about the importance of te reo Māori and the role it plays in her current job, Shakayla's response is deeply personal. “I think it's [about] showcasing that there is te reo Māori within Te Waipounamu.” In the face of scrutiny from the North Island, where there is a stronger presence of te ao Māori, she says that ignorance overlooks the growing revitalisation of the language further South: “It's not even tauiwi or Pākehā, it's our own going against it.” 

This challenge is also evident in the kura kaupapa system itself. “The kura kaupapa system won't evolve if whānau and raukura [graduates] don't come back to do their part,” she explains. “Hei poutuara, ki te akiaki, ki te poipoi i ēnei tauira [as support, to encourage and nurture these students]. “If you don't have the support from whānau and raukura, the kaupapa is not gonna go anywhere.” 

“Ki te kore ngā whānau e tautoko ana i te kaupapa, ka kore te kaupapa e ora ana mō ake tonu atu. You need whānau, you need raukura hoki. Hei hoki atu ngā raukura anō hoki, ki te whakaora i tērā o ngā kaupapa.” If there aren’t whānau supporting these kaupapa, it will not survive. Raukura must also return [to the kura] to ensure the longevity of these initiatives.

Hineani Campbell-Collier

Kaupapa Innovator, Healthy Families East Cape

Te Aitanga-ā-Māhaki, Te Whakatōhea, Te Whānau-ā-Apanui

As a recent graduate of Māori Health at the University of Otago, Hineani Campbell-Collier is no stranger to excellence. Whether she’s championing Māori health outcomes or performing as a kaihaka with Te Matatini champions Te Whānau-ā-Apanui, Hineani moves effortlessly through these roles – embodying the spirit of a new generation of cultural and health advocates and determined to tackle the challenges of today’s world, particularly in health equity. It’s an unapologetic reclamation of identity while pushing for progress in fields often dominated by Western frameworks.

Looking back at where it all began, Hineani shared that growing up immersed in te ao Māori profoundly shaped her identity. She attended secondary school at Ngā Taiātea Wharekura in Kirikiriroa [Hamilton] where she says a strong cultural connection and fluency in te reo Māori gave her a deep sense of belonging: “[It] instilled confidence, a holistic worldview, and cultural pride while emphasising the importance of my whakapapa and community.”

For Hineani, kura kaupapa Māori embodies the spirit of whānau kōtahi [united as one], where students experience a rich and culturally immersive learning journey. “Going to kura alongside cousins with aunties and uncles as teachers fosters a strong sense of belonging and community. Each tauira feels seen and valued as they are deeply engaged in te ao Māori me ona tikanga,” she says.

Even in the mighty Waikato, hurdles still remain, demanding justification for the existence of kura like Ngā Taiātea Wharekura. Despite their successes, these institutions continue to face scepticism. “People often think [kura kaupapa Māori] only focus on language and ignore academics. In reality, they offer a full curriculum, help build strong cultural identities, and aim for overall success in education,” says Hineani. It's a rich and immersive space, too. The curriculum includes learning waiata and hītori [history] that resonate with cultural identity. She explains, “The genuine care that teachers show for students' well-being ensures a holistic approach to education, making this experience both meaningful and supportive.”

Hineani also speaks of the strong uara [values] she was instilled with. “Our kura uara are embodied in the acronym ‘Poutuwhakaaro’ [...] representing our core cultural values: Pono, meaning honesty, reliability, and integrity; Tau utu-utu, reciprocity; Whanaungatanga, relationships; Kawenga, responsibility; Aroha, love and respect. They've become guiding principles that I continue to embrace and live by long after my time at Ngā Taiātea,” she explains. “Poutuwhakaaro has shaped my character and continues to influence my actions and decisions to this day, serving as a moral compass in my daily life.”

Despite the strong foundation these wharekura are built upon, Māori immersion schools are still being labelled as “non-mainstream,” which Hineani says is “kind of ironic [...] te ao Māori is crucial [to] our people's well-being, yet kura kaupapa systems are often seen as outside the mainstream,” she says. “It's almost as if our way of learning and being, which is so fundamental to who we are as Māori, is pushed to the sidelines in the bigger picture of education [...] Our cultural knowledge and practices aren't just add-ons. They're the foundation of our identity and well-being. It makes you wonder about the broader implications, like what does it say about our society when something so essential to us is labelled as non-mainstream?”

Hineani chose to study at Otago because of her whakapapa connection to Ngāi Tahu, wanting to connect to her heritage in whatever way she could. A career in health was definitely something she wanted to pursue, considering how significantly health issues affect our people, however she wasn't keen on entering a professional program and wasn't sure what other non-clinical career options were available in healthcare. Only after thoroughly exploring the degrees offered on Otago's website did she discover Māori Health: “And I thought that it would be perfect for me.” 

Today, Hineani has returned to her whānau on the East Coast and is currently working at Healthy Families East Cape. There, she’s a part of a large-scale initiative that unites community leadership to improve population health. “We focus on preventing chronic disease by addressing root causes and transforming environments where people live, learn, work, and play,” she explains. Through collective action, they empower communities to make healthier choices and drive positive change for the thriving whānau. “I'm [also] a proud member of Te Kapa Haka o Te Whānau-ā-Apanui. This involvement has deepened my connection to my whakapapa on that side while allowing me to pursue a lifelong passion I've had since childhood.”

“My connection to te ao Māori has been instrumental in my role with Te Kapa Haka o Te Whānau-ā-Apanui, enabling me to serve as a cultural ambassador for Aotearoa at international events. These include the Rugby World Cup, the Guilin Festival and most recently, the Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture in Hawai'i,” she shares. “Without this cultural grounding, these enriching experiences wouldn't have been possible.” 

Looking ahead, Hineani says that the future of kura kaupapa Māori lies in increasing their numbers so more communities across Aotearoa can benefit, and using digital tools and resources to enhance learning while keeping our cultural values intact are some ways of evolving the kaupapa. As I find my way through the health sector, I want to help promote te reo Māori and tikanga Māori in healthcare settings. This means creating resources that support graduates and making sure te reo Māori is used and celebrated in everyday interactions.”

Kiritea Smith

Project Manager, Office of Māori Development

Ngāi Te Rangi, Ngāti Ranginui, Ngāti Pūkenga

The Kōhanga Reo generation is truly here, and Kiritea stands as a proud testament to its incredible impact. Kiritea was raised with te reo Māori from birth, meaning she grew up immersed in her language and culture entirely. This, she says, has shaped every step of her journey so far. Armed with a total Māori immersion upbringing and a Bachelor of Arts in Māori Studies and Geography from the University of Otago, Kiritea is a force to be reckoned with, having woven her passion for te ao Māori into the heart of academic and professional life.

Kiritea first attended Te Kura o Te Whānau-ā-Apanui on the East Coast before shifting to Te Wharekura o Mauao in Tauranga for secondary school. It was only after her koro [grandfather] passed away that she was sent to live in Tauranga to look after her nan, a common practice among whānau. “The whenua that [Te Wharekura o Mauao] sits on is part of my marae and hapū,” she told us. “I ended up there because the principal and a lot of the teachers there at the time were my dad's relatives.” 

Her return to her ancestral land was meant to be. Having grown up in the rural, tribal lands of Apanui, Kiritea says that she had been pretty disconnected from her whakapapa. “I didn't know the different narratives, [or about] Mauao Mount and how it got there. I could recite different narratives of Te Whanau-a-Apanui, despite not having any whakapapa there. But that's just naturally what's going to happen when you're brought up in it,” she says. 

Kiritea says that it was a pretty rounded experience, with a great deal of influence from local iwi and beliefs. “The curriculum is based on the local iwi narratives and also local iwi input into the curriculum, so they're like a part of the school boards usually,” she explains. “Kura ā iwi tend to create an environment that supports their own, so naturally students should be able to thrive.”

As with others Critic Te Ārohi spoke to, Kiritea credits her upbringing in te ao Māori as a leading factor of what brought her to Otakou Whakaihu Waka. “I actually wouldn't have gone to uni had I not gone to wharekura [...] There was a strong push from a lot of teachers. We were always encouraged to do different programs, like Hands On [at Otago].” 

Initially, Kiritea aspired to study Surveying, a degree that’s generally only available at the University of Otago. She was granted an entrance scholarship to cover hall fees, which she describes as being one of the best first-year scholarships. “The scholarship is [awarded] based on your involvement with te ao Māori and a registration to your iwi to verify that you are, in fact, Māori. And those are two very small steps for a lot of kura kids,” she says, pointing out that the support structure in te ao Māori naturally integrates these elements of identity. “A lot of kura kids do succeed when they are within kura that support them to thrive.” 

For Kiritea, an important factor to her academic journey was the promise of fees-free study – an initiative that is currently being scrapped by the coalition government. “When you had fees free, you could get StudyLink and [knew] you could kind of afford to go home at some point during the year.”

Since completing her studies, Kiritea has worked within the University of Otago, first in the College of Education as a communications coordinator, and now in the Office of Māori Development as Project Manager which she describes as “one of the hardest jobs I’ve ever done.” However, she says that it’s very fulfilling in many ways. “The environment that I work in is very supportive and culturally competent.” From undertaking mihi whakatau [welcome] and developing workshops, to whakawātea [ritual opening] and Māori professional development. “One thing I do tend to really take notice of is that the team I work with now is very intergenerational,” she says. Kiritea shared that her mahi is relative to any and every “kaupapa Māori that happens on campus, in some way, our team will have some sort of part in it. Either leading, advising or supporting.”

Kiritea says that the whakaaro [ideas, perspective] of total immersion schools are changing. This is particularly on the basis of South Auckland-based Te Kura Māori o Ngā Tapuwae NCEA results, which made headlines for weeks with widespread surprise at the news that proved Māori immersion systems are, in fact, a success. “Full immersion is its own pathway,” she says. “It was really supportive of students going to different programmes, that [even] if you weren't successful in receiving some of the scholarships that come with different programmes, the school would just end up paying for you in full to go to that programme, no matter how far it was. So that's why I credit a lot to [Te Wharekura o Mauao] for doing those things.”

Kiritea’s successes, both local and abroad, tie back to the foundational support and cultural grounding she received growing up immersed in te ao Māori. Fluent in her native tongue, she carried the language and cultural practices with her to Vancouver, where she participated in Indigenous exchanges. “The highlights have been incredible,” she reflects of her experiences, including facilitating major events like the opening of Te Rangihīroa and accommodating manuhiri from Ngāti Mutunga; to her role in the recent University rebrand that unveiled a new ikoa Māori and tohu.

In her overseas mahi, Kiritea’s ability to use te reo and draw from her Māori upbringing became instrumental during her visit to Canada, where she attended the Healing Our Spirit Worldwide conference. This international gathering of Indigenous communities was an opportunity for Kiritea to bring the essence of te ao Māori to a global stage, meeting with Indigenous leaders and institutions such as the University of Alberta. Even amidst the complexities of navigating foreign landscapes, te reo and tikanga Māori acted as a compass, grounding her in her identity while building bridges with Indigenous communities across the world. Kiritea and her ope [contingent] attended a ceremony, similar to that of a pōwhiri, which resonated with her own cultural roots, reflecting the shared values of Indigenous peoples worldwide.


 

As it turns out, te reo Māori does have practical use beyond the shores of Aotearoa, despite what some believe. Wāhine like Shakayla, who continue to thrive in their careers while upholding te reo Māori, stand as living proof of its relevance. The same goes for Hineani, who defies the notion that kapa haka won’t take you far in the real world, and now travels the world as a cultural ambassador of our country, as well as changing the health outcomes of whānau in her home. Kiritea challenges the outdated idea that Māori traditions have no place in professional industries, demonstrating that cultural identity and leadership go hand in hand, turning heritage into her greatest asset.

The rest is simple: Māori culture and identity are not constraints but powerful tools. These wāhine showcase that the foundations laid by te reo Māori and tikanga Māori not only hold significance locally but are also shaping the global future for Indigenous peoples. Māori are more than capable of handling their own affairs, using their cultural identity as a blueprint for leadership and innovation.

This article first appeared in Issue 22, 2024.
Posted 4:16am Monday 16th September 2024 by Shakayla Andrews-Alapaki and Hineani Campbell-Collier and Kiritea Smith.