A Leaky Bucket

My heart aches for our beautiful Taitokerau. For too long, we have lived under a system that treats our home like a resource to be stripped rather than a mother to be loved. We see it every day: the log trucks carrying our timber away while our own people live in cold, damp houses and cars. We see our children, our greatest treasure, leaving for the cities because they can’t see a future here. This isn’t just an economic problem; it is a spiritual leak that is draining the very life force, the Mauri, from our land and our people.

The Lie of Separation

We’ve been sold a story that we are all separate, that what happens to my neighbour in Kaikohe doesn't affect me in Whangārei. But our faith and our ancestors tell us a different truth. We live in a "Woven Universe" where every thread is connected. If one part suffers, the whole body suffers. This "lie of separation" has allowed us to accept poverty as normal, but it is actually a breakdown of the sacred bonds of Whanaungatanga.

Standing in Two Worlds 

For a long time, many of us in Taitokerau have felt like we had to leave our Māori identity at the door when we walked into a church. Whether it was a little wooden building like St Michael’s Anglican Church in Ngawha, where I attended recently with my reo class, or a larger whare karakia, the message from the past was often the same: you have to choose. You were told you could either follow the ways of your ancestors or follow the faith, but you couldn't do both.

This "either/or" way of thinking was a tool used to control us. It tried to tell us that our ancient knowledge and our faith were at war. But that is an old, broken explanation designed to keep us small.

The Power of "Both/And" 

Our ancestors didn't see the world as a series of boxes. They understood a reality where everything is connected, a Woven Universe. When the message of faith arrived, they didn't see it as a foreign invader. They saw it as a long-lost cousin that spoke the same language of love and connection.