whakapapa

Māori consider water to be the foundation of all life; it is a valued taonga gifted by our ancestors that provides sustenance and nourishment to communities and enhances hauora Māori (Royal, 2010). For generations, Māori have participated in water-related activities such as fishing, gathering kai, diving, waka and swimming (Karapu et al., 2007). It is through these activities in and around the water that hauora Māori can be enhanced.

Connection to land through whakapapa is premised on mana inherited at birth from the atua. These fundamental principles have supported land claims in the Native Land Court since 1865 and were of importance to Ngāti Kahungunu women in the late 19th century. Yet, exactly how whakapapa and mana informed cases for wāhine Māori has been difficult to examine, due to the omnipresent patriarchal workings of the Native Land Court and its comprehension of customary principles.

This article was written as a result of my personal journey toward understanding my whakapapa and my place within academia. As a newly appointed academic I utilise the four stages of Kolb’s experiential model to provide concrete examples of complex situations, reflect on their meanings, conceptualise these meanings to make sense of them and move towards locating ‘self’ as a Māori academic and researcher. I provide comment on my search for authenticity and the barriers to exploring whakapapa.

For Indigenous peoples, and Māori specifically, storytelling and oral history are crucial to the survival of our collective identities, culture and language. Retold across generations, our stories are often explicit and interwoven narratives of personal and collective memories. Drawing on Native American scholar Gerald Vizenor’s (2009) concept of “survivance stories”, this article explores a set of three oral history narratives of kaumātua from Ngāti Tiipa, one of the 33 iwi and hapū of the Waikato-Tainui confederation.