A celebration of reclamation

The history of education in Aotearoa is complex, layered with stories of loss, resilience, and transformation. 

To understand where we are now, it’s important to look back at where we started.

Let’s start in 1867 with the Native Schools Act, a policy designed to assimilate Māori into Pākehā culture. 

This led to the introduction of Native Schools. These schools were set up in rural areas, where most Māori lived, and these are the schools that Māori all over the motu attended.

Meanwhile, there was another type of school operating in the main rural centres. These were called Normal Schools. In fact, the first Normal School in New Zealand was opened in Christchurch in April 1876, located on Cranmer Square (now there are flash apartments being built there).

These schools were for Pākehā kids and were considered much more prestigious because they were so well-resourced. The justification for this disparity? Normal Schools were framed as institutions of “higher learning,” where teachers were supposedly trained before being sent to educate in Native Schools.

But the reality is more telling. The segregation wasn’t just about geography, it was a clear signal of whose knowledge, language, and culture were valued.

The Native Schools Act mandated English as the official language of instruction. The goal was clear - to erase te reo Māori and replace it with English.

This had devastating consequences. 

Māori parents, fearing punishment for their tamariki, stopped speaking te reo Māori at home. Generations of tamariki Māori attended school in fear of being punished for speaking their own language, and the result was a dramatic loss of reo within whānau.

While this was happening in Native Schools, Normal Schools enjoyed better facilities, more resources, and carried a sense of prestige that continues to this day. Even now, some schools proudly retain their “Normal” status as a mark of honour. You’ll see them as you drive through some of Aotearoa’s most expensive suburbs.

They claim it’s because of their special role in working with universities to train teachers. But anyone who’s been through teacher training (like I have) knows that every school in Aotearoa supports trainee teachers. There’s nothing unique about it.

The “Normal” label is a relic of a system that valued one culture and one way of learning over another.

Despite the attempts of the Native Schools Act to strip te reo and tikanga Māori, generations of activism and fighting to preserve taonga has meant that Māori have found ways to resist and reclaim. One of the most powerful examples of this is the rise of Kura Kaupapa Māori.

Kura Kaupapa Māori offer an alternative pathway for mātua (parents) who want their tamariki to be immersed in te reo Māori and tikanga Māori. These kura are proudly grounded in Te Aho Matua, a philosophy that centres around Māori identity, language, and culture.

After almost 40 years of learning, the success of Kura Kaupapa Māori is evident. I won’t bore you with statistics, but basically kids who attend kura kaupapa Māori succeed educationally at much higher rates than those who don’t. Recently I met with the Minister of Education and she simply asked “how do you do it?”

This week marks Wiki Hā, a time when kura kaupapa from around the motu come together for sports competitions. The wairua (spirit) of whakatāetae (competition) is alive and well, but more than that, it’s an opportunit for rangatahi to meet other like minded peers and enjoy whanaungatanga (comradery). Te reo Māori flows freely, and rangatahi stand tall, proud to walk in their cultural identity.

If you happen to stumble across one of these events, at Hagley Park, Pioneer Stadium or Spenser Park this week, take a moment to soak it all in. Reflect on how far we’ve come since the days of the Native Schools Act, which tried so hard to suppress te reo Māori and tikanga.

What you’ll see and hear at Wiki Hā is more than a sports competition - it’s a celebration of resilience, identity, and the power of reclaiming what was nearly lost.

We still have work to do, but the progress we’ve made is worth celebrating.

Ngā mihi,
Anton