Gratitude, kaupapa and missing the hīkoi mō te Tiriti

What could two middle-class Pākehā ladies say in a few words painted on a protest sign? ‘Boomers for te Tiriti’ it was

It’s 6.15am on Tuesday 19 November, and I’m wondering why on earth I am going to work today. There are patients booked, meetings booked, an inbox to check.

But at home, people are bustling around in excitement, ready to catch an early train into Wellington for the hīkoi mō te Tiriti. They have flags, banners, good walking shoes, packed lunches and the sense that this is history in the making, a hīkoi bigger than any we will see in our lifetime.

I did get to sit on the side of the road in Waikanae on Sunday afternoon with our hand-made banner. What could two middle-class Pākehā ladies say in a few words painted on a protest sign?

Well, the two were clearly boomers so “Boomers for te Tiriti” it was.

The sun shone, cars went by tooting and waving, the whānau next to us had great beats, we sang along, we met new people, had ice creams and laughs, got sunburnt and then ate fish and chips on the grass. We all felt good about the world.

Actually, we waited three hours and only saw about 20 hīkoi cars, but everyone was happy because we knew they were running late. There had been huge activations in Palmerston North and Levin in the morning, and they had to get to Porirua for the pōwhiri at 6pm.

“Was that it?” said one of the kids who had been playing in the grass all afternoon. And the roadside grownups all said, “Yes, looks like most of the cars went down the motorway because you can’t be late when there is a hāngī being pulled up and all the food ready.” And his dad said, “Standing together was the important thing, son. That’s the kaupapa.”

We said we would stay a bit longer in case more cars came through. “Boomers are stayers!”

I’m gutted to have missed the hīkoi in Wellington today. But I’m grateful. I’m grateful for Te Tiriti o Waitangi because it allows for a redress of colonial crimes; I believe in fairness. I’m grateful for the Treaty settlements because even though they are meagre compared to the value of stolen or confiscated land, I have seen firsthand what a Māori economy can do; they can grow business and lead a kaupapa where their people come first, tūpuna inspired and mokopuna focused.

I’m grateful for kōhanga reo and kura kaupapa because, in my lifetime, the number of te reo Māori speakers who live and breathe Māori has grown exponentially. I’m grateful for these people because they enrich our nation with a way of being based on values, aroha, mana, respect, humility and care for the collective. We have seen this in action at a huge national hīkoi, conducted peacefully, whānau-centred and positive.

I’m grateful for all the Māori doctors and GPs who are quietly leading us back into a more humane way of seeing our consultations, whakawhanaungatanga, manaakitanga, whānau.

I’m grateful that my Pākehā way of living and breathing is constantly being challenged because we all need our assumptions and definitions of “normal” to be questioned.

This year, I have been studying with Te Wānanga o Aotearoa, a course on kaitiakitanga, a mātauranga Māori way of seeing relationships of care and support. I had to create my own framework, starting with my personal values. I was brought up Catholic, and this helped, but what I realise is that I now live in a secular world where our values are those of capitalism; success means a better career, a bigger income, a flasher house, a fancier holiday. We live in a world where people consume more but are lonelier than ever before.

It’s frightening how ingrained the values of capitalism are in us. We seldom talk in a secular world about how to be a good human being and how to work together for the collective good; we seldom talk of love, respect, relationship and care of others. We talk of individual rights and individual lives.

And the lonelier we get.

So, I am grateful to be Pākehā in a nation where indigenous ways of seeing remind me about what really matters: care, community and being a good human being.

And now I’m off to work. I’m sure half the patients will be outside Parliament.

I studied kaitiakitanga at Te Wānanga o Aotearoa at Papaiōea campus, Palmerston North.

Big mihi to the inspirational kaiako Tania Riwai and Lewis Stevens, the most supportive kaimahi Gina, Hiraani and Jo and the collective of amazing tauira. Aroha to you all.

Lucy O’Hagan is a medical educator and specialist GP working in the Wellington region