In 2017, the Imagining Decolonised Cities (IDC) competition sought submissions for the public’s visions of a decolonised Porirua. The IDC competition was an opportunity for Ngāti Toa Rangatira to solicit utopic ideas for their city post-settlement. This article presents an analysis of the 40 entries, exploring how participants understand decolonisation enacted in an urban setting. We identified two overarching themes from the submissions that can be linked to wider theories of decolonisation, particularly Corntassel’s (2008) theory of sustainable self-determination.

Wairoro is a te reo Māori term for the brain, and it is a concept grounded in Māori origins (Hīroa, n.d.). This paper is based on the lead author’s master’s research, in which he created Te Āheinga Pū Reretahi—a model developed to provide a structural and functional foundation of understanding the wairoro. Māori life expectancy is increasing (Ministry of Health, 2019), and Māori are now also experiencing the complications of wairoro illnesses that are associated with an ageing population (Dudley et al., 2014, 2019).

Cultural identity research has largely focused on subjective and individualised notions of identity. In recent research we introduced the concept of “cultural embeddedness” as a framework for understanding the collective expectations derived from cultural values, practices and beliefs, and how these facets of culture are integrated into identity and enacted in everyday behaviours (Fox et al., 2021).

Climate change is the most grievous threat of the 21st century and disproportionately affects politically marginalised communities such as Indigenous peoples. As custodians of approximately 80% of the planet’s biodiversity, Indigenous cultures have practised sustainable management of ecosystems and resources over millennia providing vital pathways for humanity to better mitigate accelerating climate change impacts.

Maori children are uplifted by the New Zealand government at disproportionate rates compared with tauiwi children. The removal of tamariki from culturally embedded networks exacerbates intergenerational trauma created by colonisation. Placements into unsafe contexts mean that additional instances of harm and cumulative trauma are common, and tamaiti atawhai are not positioned within fullness of their cultural being. This article draws on a broader Kaupapa Māori project involving semistructured interviews with kaiāwhina Māori across the North Island.

n this situation report, we discuss ways to address current promotional processes that discriminate against Māori and Pacific academics in New Zealand universities. This report follows on from a paper that we published in 2020 showing that Māori and Pacific academics, compared with non-Māori non-Pacific male academics, were significantly less likely to be promoted to the professoriate (associate professor, professor) and earn less, over a 15-year period. These gaps are not explained by research performance (measured by Performance Based Research Fund scores), age or field (e.g., science).

This article is intended as a provocation for Indigenous researchers to reflect on their cultures and life stories, and consider how sharing their intergenerational experiences can engender cultural empathy with Indigenous peoples that originate from a different community and are at the heart of their study. I explore how an Indigenous researcher’s life story, from a childhood in the African continent to adulthood and parenthood in Aotearoa, influenced his research direction and design toward Indigenous entrepreneurship as an emancipatory and empowering endeavour.

Role models serve multiple functions as they influence Māori students’ goals and school aspirations. While Māori students are faced with various educational barriers, scholars contend that having a positive role model can influence their educational persistence and overall engagement at school. Therefore, it is important to consider who Māori students choose as role models and how they influence their goals and aspirations.

This article has been inspired by “Why Isn’t My Professor Māori?” (McAllister et al., 2019), an article which appeared in this journal and addressed the under-representation of, and inequities facing, Māori academic staff in universities in Aotearoa New Zealand. I present some personal reflections and raise some questions with regard to academics with Māori heritage but who struggle to identify as Māori. I also describe some of the discomfort of being in the “middle ground” of cultural identity and how this has come about, and argue that we need to engage with such troubled identities and histories if we are to decolonise ourselves and our universities.     

The COVID-19 pandemic and resulting lockdowns in Aotearoa New Zealand have been a source of change, of uncertainty and of anxiety. The ways in which we engage with each other as Indigenous people have had to change drastically and suddenly; our ways of being, of sharing space, of being present, have all had to be adjusted. For Indigenous postgraduate students, COVID-19 and lockdowns have meant a re-shaping and re-thinking of how we come together as a community that supports each other within Westernised institutions and along our academic and research journeys.