Maori

This practice-research based article explores the relationship between mana motuhake (indigenous sovereignty) and white patriarchal sovereignty in Aotearoa New Zealand, focusing on Ngāti Tūwharetoa as a case study. It seeks to find the relevance of Aboriginal academic Aileen Moreton-Robinson's white possessive doctrine to the Aotearoa New Zealand context. In particular, it highlights the racist nature of the law and planning systems and their inadequacies to provide for hapū and iwi (indigenous nation/s). It provides a key theoretical analysis regarding the nature of white patriarchal sovereignty in Aotearoa and the need of the state to appear virtuous, to continue the legacy that started with the Treaty of Waitangi to maintain this whenua (land) as a white possessive. Lastly, the piece questions the position of Britishness within Aotearoa New Zealand and asks key philosophical questions for all about the need to find common understandings or māramatanga about our collective future as a society.

Engagement between Iwi Maori and local government operates within a complex environment of involving multiple expectations within multiple statutory frameworks. Not surprisingly different models of engagement have developed, some of which are more successful than others at achieving meaningful relationships and acknowledging the unique status of indigenous organisations.

In late September 2016 former Prime Minister, respected legal scholar and constitutional law reformer, Rt. Hon Sir Geoffrey Palmer QC and public law specialist Andrew Butler released, as part of a New Zealand Law Foundation funded study Constitution Aotearoa, their proposed constitution in a book entitled, “A Written Constitution for Aotearoa New Zealand.” This paper seeks to provide a critical
Kaupapa Māori critique of their proposed constitution grounded in Aboriginal
academic Aileen Moreton-Robinson’s White Possessive Doctrine and Veracini’s
commentary of “On Settling.” It will look to explain how this proposed constitution is a missed opportunity and how it can be seen as a continuation of white possessive nature of the state while outlining the conflict between the need of the state to retain to retain power and the need of Māori to have constitutional transformation.

In 1881, colonial troops invaded, occupied, and forcefully evacuated the Maori village of Parihaka.  Located on the west coast of the North Island of Aotearoa/New Zealand in the shadow of Mt. Taranaki, a location of great spiritual importance for west coast Maori, Parihaka at the time of its invasion had become a symbol of Maori resistance to an increasingly aggressive colonial administration bent on freeing up as much land as possible for European settlement. 
This paper considers contemporary representations of the story of Parihaka and asks why it continues to haunt the collective memory of Aotearoa/New Zealand.  Why is it that Parihaka is referred to as an event that has been forgotten within the popular imagination, when the story continues to be told and retold in literature, histoy, art and film? 
I will argue that despite claims to having been forgotten, the proliferation of representations of Parihaka attests to its status as a source of not only racial, but national melancholia.  In other words, Parihaka represents the intrusion of Aotearoa/New Zealand’s colonial past, a past characterized by racism and ethnocentrism on the part of the British colonial administration, into the present.  The story of Parihaka serves as a constant reminder to Maori and Pakeha alike that the racial and ethnic divisions that characterized Aotearoa/New Zealand’s colonial past continue to structure the present, despite the state’s claims to have moved beyond such divisions.

Māori wellbeing is the foundation of Māori development, yet Indigenous peoples (including Māori) are often invisible in universal measures of wellbeing. In 2006 Mason Durie outlined Māori-specific measures of wellbeing, built upon Māori understandings of what constitutes a “good life”. Following Durie this paper describes developments in the culturally responsive measurement of Māori wellbeing. These have culminated in Te Kupenga, the 2013 survey of Māori wellbeing by New Zealand Statistics, and two Māori mental wellbeing assessment tools, Hua Oranga and the Meihana Model. Gaps remain in the measurement of collective Māori wellbeing, or whānau ora, with individual reporting on whānau wellbeing currently being used as a proxy. More information is also needed about Māori subjective wellbeing in order for this to be fully captured in measurement tools. The close involvement of Māori in the development of any wellbeing measure is essential for that measure to be culturally responsive and valid.

Cellfish (2017) is a dark comedy written by Miriama McDowell (Ngāti Hine), Rob Mokaraka (Ngāpuhi, Ngāi Tūhoe), and Jason Te Kare (Ngāti Maniapoto, Tainui). The play follows the story of a drama teacher, Miss Lucy, who enters the world of a men’s prison to offer Shakespeare classes. The play offers a critique of intergenerational violence and the legacies of colonialism that impact on the high imprisonment rates of Māori. This article offers an analysis of Cellfish by exploring certain principles of restorative justice that underscore the production. Restorative justice has become an established approach in criminology where it is most commonly understood as involving the victim, the offender, and the community coming together to repair the harm caused by crime. Instead of a narrow focus privleging the encounter between victim and offender, this article explores principles of restrative justice underscoring the Cellfish production including the key notions of Utu (restoring balance) and Whanangatanga (reciprocal family relations). The article begins by introducing the Cellfish production before situating the work in relation to the field of Prison Theatre. The article then offers a brief outline of restorative justice before providing a reading of how these principles can be traced in the play. I argue that Cellfish might be usefully conceived as enacting restorative justice by critiquing the punitive criminal justice system and offering instead alternative visions of justice based on ideas of restoring balance, inter-relationality, and healing.

Pareraukawa’s Te Ahukaramū identifies an externalised type of knowledge as mātauranga (Royal 2005). It is a shared knowledge, “‘ma’ and ‘tau’ … said to be attained when it is held or comes to rest within us” (Smith 2015, 51). Contrastingly, mātauranga Māori is “an indigenous body of knowledge that arises from a worldview based upon kinship relationships between people and the natural world” (Royal Society Te Apārangi 2017, para. 2). An inherited erudition, it “responds to the three great questions of life, namely: Who am I? What is this world that I exist in? What am I to do?” (Royal 2012, 35) Mātauranga Māori is a means for exploring life philosophically.

Extinction is the “irreversible condition of a species or other group of organisms having no living representatives in the wild, which follows the death of the last surviving individual of that species or group” (Hine and Martin 2015, para. 1). Mass extinctions are extinctions of the greatest magnitude, occurring “when many diverse groups of organisms become extinct over short periods of time” (Condie 2011, 250). In November 2017, 15,372 scientists declared the scientific consensus (Ripple et al. 2017). Mass extinction has occurred five times in the past. A sixth mass extinction has begun. Humans are the cause of the latest episode. However, “the oft-repeated claim that Earth’s biota is entering a sixth ‘mass extinction’ depends on clearly demonstrating current extinction rates are far above the ‘background’ rates” (Ceballos et al. 2015, 1).

An example of mātauranga is the method outlined by Ceballos et al. (2015) for calculating current extinction rates. An example of mātauranga Māori are the responses, which arise from that calculation. If we have evidence that our nonhuman kin (and, indeed, our own offspring) are being “deprive[d] of life or strength” (Lewis and Short 1891, 704), what is our responsibility?

This paper presents my replication study of Ceballos et al. (2015) using 2018 data. It considers the etymology of responsibility as an agential construct. Finally, it makes suggestions for a non-agential responsibility informed by, first, mātauranga Māori and, second, Levinasian ethics.

An authentic pronouncing dictionary of Maori place names throughout Aotearoa New Zealand. Archival voice recordings of many well known Maori speakers from various Tribes and dialect groups.
Author: Hugh Young; prepared & published with assistance by Aoraki Press and others. Copyright the Author, and availability information on the web-site:

http://www.top.net.nz/~hugh/ingoa/index.html

The use of computational formats and digital tools including machine fabrication by indigenous people worldwide to augment traditional practices and material culture is becoming more and more commonplace. However within the practice of architecture while there are indigenous architectural practitioners utilizing digital tools, it is unclear as to whether there is motivation to implement traditional indigenous knowledge in conjunction with these computational instruments and methodologies. This paper explores how the tools might be used to investigate the potential for indigenous development, cultural empowerment and innovation. It also describes a general methodology whereby capacity can be shared between academia and indigenous groups to foster new knowledge through a recently implemented indigenous focused design research entity, SITUA. The importance and significant research potential of what we term 'domain based research' is reinforced through the exploration of emergen...

Zu Tätowierungen hat fast jeder eine Meinung. Dennoch gibt es sehr viele Klischees und Vorurteile. Gleichzeitig sind Tattoos für viele mit Rebellion, Freiheit, Erotik oder einfach Attraktivität verbunden. Kalt lassen sie die wenigsten. Wie auch: Sie verbreiten sich immer mehr. Parallel dazu boomen Schönheits-Operationen, Permanent-Make up etc. Der eigene Körper wird immer wichtiger – und er wird Gestaltungsmasse. Er muss angepasst werden. Das Ziel ist es, immer attraktiv, jung und gesund zu sein. Der Körper und sein Schmuck rücken weiter in den Mittelpunkt. Das eigene Körper-Ich wird zum „Werkzeug“ für die „Optimierung“ des Selbst. Tattoos sind eine Möglichkeit dafür. Und sie unterliegen auch Trends, Entwicklungen und Moden. Sie sind immer Teil von etwas Größerem: einer Kultur, einer Strömung, einer Mode oder einfach einer persönlichen Einstellung. Der vorliegende Band „Pimp My Körper! Arbeiten über Tätowierungen“ soll diesen Themen nachgehen.

In Aotearoa New Zealand, Māori are overrepresented in criminal and mental health contexts, comprising only 14.9% of the nation, yet over 50% of institutional populations. These figures are not unique, but represent a broader struggle to overcome the legacy of colonization affecting indigenous communities worldwide. In response to these issues, I examine the impacts of Māori cultural expression in forensic mental health through an ethnography of the kapa haka rōpū (group) in the Kaupapa Māori forensic psychaitric unit, Te Papakāinga O Tāne Whakapiripiri. This unit reconceptualizes Western frameworks for mental health service provision, incorporating cultural education as an integral aspect of treatment, such as Māori performing arts (i.e., kapa haka). The unit also imbues Māori cultural values, practices, and forms of expression into daily life, an act that transforms the experience of institutionalization for tāngata whai i te ora (patients) and the practice of forensic mental health more broadly. In this dissertation, I first unpack the collaborative methodology developed in this research, providing a set of recommendations for a more “codetermined” research process. I then explain the research’s broader academic and social contexts, tracing the history of Māori music scholarship, and then the history of New Zealand’s cultural and political transformation from 1840 to the present. This culminates in an ethnography of Tāne Whakapiripiri, where I examine the impacts of the kapa haka program and the unit’s broader musical activities on tāngata whai i te ora and the clinical environment in four domains: te taha wairua (the spirit), te taha hinengaro (the mind), te taha tinana (the body), and te taha whānau (the community). Overall, this research illustrates that embedding forms of cultural expression such as kapa haka into the clinical model positively impacts tāngata whai i te ora, improving their understanding and experiences of themselves, their illnesses, and their environment. Such cultural expression also shows how a Kaupapa Māori framework transforms the institutional environment from a Western model emphasizing individualism, hierarchy, and isolation toward a more holistic, collective, and whānau-centered model that holds the potential to shift our understanding of what forensic mental health is and can be.

I found myself nodding in approval as I read this book. Smith has a sufficient understanding of the intricacies of options in research methodology to titillate the experts. I found myself thinking that her level of understanding was impressive for an indigenous Maori. My joy was dampened when I realised that underlying her text is really a clear message: ‘you Western researchers aren’t helping us. Get out of the way, and let us indigenous people research ourselves’. My heart sank. I would love for there to be more intimate involvement of Western people with indigenous minorities and majorities. Smith tells us repeatedly that indigenous people are tired of being abused by Western people in the name of ‘research’.  Westerners should read this book. It declares a failure of the West.

Academic Reference:

Zuckermann, Ghil'ad & Monaghan, Paul (2012). "Revival linguistics and the new media: Talknology in the service of the Barngarla language reclamation", pp. 119-126 of Foundation for Endangered Languages XVI Conference: Language Endangerment in the 21st Century:Globalisation, Technology & New Media. Auckland, New Zealand.

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Revival Linguistics and the New Media:
Talknology in the service of the Barngarla Language Reclamation


Ghil‘ad Zuckermann

Chair of Linguistics and Endangered Languages
School of Humanities, University of Adelaide, SA Adelaide 5005, Australia
[ghilad.zuckermann@adelaide.edu.au]


Paul Monaghan

Mobile Language Team
School of Humanities, University of Adelaide, SA Adelaide 5005, Australia
[paul.monaghan@adelaide.edu.au]


Abstract

Revival Linguistics is a new branch of linguistics, currently being established at Adelaide. It analyses comparatively and systematically the universal constraints and global mechanisms on the one hand (see Zuckermann 2009), and local peculiarities on the other hand, apparent in revival attempts across various sociological backgrounds, all over the world (see Zuckermann & Walsh 2011). A branch of both linguistics and applied linguistics, it combines scientific studies of native language acquisition and foreign language learning (language reclamation is the most extreme case of Second Language Learning).

The study: The Barngarla language (spelled Parnkalla by Schürmann 1844) is a no-longer spoken Thura-Yura Pama-Nyungan Aboriginal language of the Lakes Cultural Region of South Australia. Most recently Zuckermann, Monaghan and the Barngarla community have launched a reclamation of this sleeping beauty in three major rural/urban centres on the Eyre Peninsula, namely Port Lincoln, Whyalla, and Port Augusta. The presence of three Barngarla populations several hours drive apart presents the revival linguist with a need for a sophisticated reclamation involving ‘talknological’ innovations, such as online chatting, newsgroups, photo and resource sharing through a Barngarla wiki. This paper also examines the tensions accompanying the creation of a Barngarla ‘community of practice’ (cf. Wenger 1998) in a post-traditional Aboriginal context. In important ways, the new talknology poses a direct challenge to existing authority structures relating to the everyday management of knowledge, collaboration and participation. We predict that how the broader Barngarla community negotiates these issues will have an important bearing on the ultimate results of the reclamation project.




Revival Linguistics

Revival Linguistics is a new branch of linguistics, currently being established at Adelaide. It analyses comparatively and systematically the universal constraints and global mechanisms on the one hand (see Zuckermann 2009), and local peculiarities and idiosyncrasies on the other hand, apparent in revival attempts across various sociological backgrounds, all over the world (Zuckermann & Walsh 2011). A branch of both linguistics and applied linguistics, it combines scientific studies of native language acquisition and foreign language learning (language reclamation is the most extreme case of Second Language Learning).

Revival Linguistics complements the established field of documentary linguistics, which records endangered languages before they fall asleep. Revival Linguistics ought to revise the fields of grammaticography (writing grammars) and lexicography (writing dictionaries): Grammars and dictionaries ought to be written for language reclamation, i.e. in a user-friendly way, for communities, not only for linguists. For example, juxtapose Lutheran missionary Clamor Wilhelm Schürmann’s 1844 spelling of the Barngarla word nunyara ‘recovery’, which ignores the English environment, thus resulting in the pronunciation nanYAra rather than NOONyara.

Closely related to contact linguistics, Revival Linguistics changes the field of historical linguistics, e.g. by weakening the Family Tree model, which implies that a language ought to have only one parent. Assisting Aboriginal communities in a realistic, non-purisitic way, without selling them myths, Revival Linguistics promotes efficiency and efficacy in language reclamation.

Certainly Australia has been made the ‘Unlucky Country’ through the historical processes of linguicide (language killing) and glottophagy (language eating). These twin forces were in operation from the early colonial period. In her detailed study of the role missionary language practices in the early years of the South Australian colony, Scrimgeour quotes the following colonial language ideology: ‘Mr Forster afterwards adverted to the present mode of teaching the children in their own language. He, with all respect to the Missionaries, would say, on several grounds, that this was wrong. The natives would be sooner civilized if their language was extinct. The children taught would afterwards mix only with whites, where their own language would be of no use – the use of their language would preserve their prejudices and debasement, and their language was not sufficient to express the ideas of civilized life.  He gave the Missionaries full credit for their talents and zeal, but he thought it would be better to teach the children in English’ (from Report on a public meeting of the South Australian Missionary Society in aid of the German Mission to the Aborigines, Southern Australian, 8 September 1843; Scrimgeour, 2007: 116, italics added).

In the case of glottophagy, Governor George Grey noted: ‘The merchant in London who lays on a vessel for a certain port, regards the affair as a mere mercantile speculation, but could he trace out the results he effects in their remotest ramifications, he would stand astonished at the changes he produces.  With the wizard wand of commerce, he touches a lone and trackless forest, and at his bidding, cities arise, and the hum and dust of trade collect – away are swept ancient races; antique laws and customs moulder into oblivion.  The strong-holds of murder and superstition are cleansed, and the Gospel is preached amongst ignorant and savage men. The ruder languages disappear successively, and the tongue of England alone is heard around’ (Grey 1841: 200-201, italics added). Grey was a strong supporter of Aboriginal languages, encouraging Schürmann’s work documenting the Adelaide language (Kaurna) and Barngarla at Port Lincoln (see below).

With globalization, homogenization and Coca-colonization there will be more and more groups all over the world added to the forlorn club of the lost-heritage peoples. Language reclamation will become increasingly relevant as people seek to recover their cultural autonomy, empower their spiritual and intellectual sovereignty, and improve their wellbeing. There are various ethical, aesthetic and utilitarian benefits of language revival: for example, social justice, diversity and employability, respectively.

Zuckermann (2012) has enthusiastically called for Native Tongue Title and linguistic human rights, suggesting that the Australian government ought to compensate Indigenous people not only for the loss of land but equally importantly for the loss of language. Zuckermann has suggested to the Australian government to define Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander vernaculars as official languages.

Furthermore, it is predicted that in the future the very insights offered by Revival Linguistics will themselves become part of Indigenous Intellectual Property, when Slovenes and Estonians come to Australia and New Zealand to ask Aboriginal Australians and Maori to assist them in their own European language resurrection.

There is an urgent need to produce perspicacious LINGUISTIC and socio-linguistic insights relevant to language reclamation. Otherwise, linguists or language workers would not be able to offer, if asked by Indigenous people, efficient and efficacious advice. There are linguistic constraints applicable to all revival attempts. Mastering them would help revivalists and First Nations leaders to work more efficiently; for example, to focus more on basic vocabulary and verbal conjugations than on sounds and word order – see Zuckermann (2009: http://www.zuckermann.org/pdf/Hybridity_versus_Revivability.pdf.

Revival linguistics would assist revivalists to be more realistic and to abandon discouraging slogans such as "Give us authenticity or give us death!" The following are among the basic principles that the revival linguist encourages in Aboriginal communities:

i. If your language falls asleep: stop, revive, survive!
ii. If you revive a language, embrace the hybridity of the emerging tongue; and
iii. If your language is healthy, assist others in linguistic need.

One day we may invent devices to “inject” a language into our brains. But until then, any attempt to reclaim a hibernating language will result in a hybrid that combines components from the revivalists' and documenters' mother tongues and, of course, the target language. In the immortal words of Jerry Seinfeld: "Not that there's anything wrong with that!"

The Study


Figure 1: Map of Traditional Aboriginal Country after Norman Tindale (adapted from Hercus 1999)

The Barngarla language reclamation project has arisen through partnerships between the University of Adelaide (Linguistics and the Mobile Language Team) and the Barngarla people. Although still in its infancy, consultations began in September 2011, a number of very significant steps have been made towards reclaiming this ‘sleeping beauty’. Without doubt, the key challenge has been to develop a strategy for the reclamation of the language simultaneously and without favour in three major regional centres. In ways that will be elaborated below, this multi-sited, regional or peripheral reclamation makes demands that are very different to those often found in metropolitan reclamation contexts (e.g. Kaurna, cf. Amery...

This paper proposes the enactment of an ex gratia compensation scheme for loss of Indigenous languages in Australia. Although some Australian states have enacted ex gratia compensation schemes for the victims of the Stolen Generation policies, the victims of ‘linguicide’ (language killing) are largely overlooked by the Australian Government. Existing grant schemes to support Aboriginal languages are inadequate, and they should be complemented with compensation schemes, which are based on a claim of right. The proposed compensation scheme for the loss of Aboriginal languages should support the effort to reclaim and revive the lost languages. We first outline the history of linguicide during colonisation in Australia. We then put a case for reviving lost Aboriginal languages by highlighting the benefits of language revival. After evaluating the limits of existing Australian law in supporting the language revival efforts, this paper proposes a statute-based ex gratia compensation scheme, which can be colloquially called ‘Native Tongue Title’.

This paper explores the situation of arriving to New Zealand as an immigrant/expatriate. Equipped with local citizenship and a rich familial regional history going back 1000 years, but with limited connections, and with professional and educational background originating from another society, the challenges facing individuals moving to New Zealand as they seek out relevant and meaningful employment and professional purpose are explored through a first-hand accounting. Psychological and social phenomena affecting this journey are explored. Concepts such as correspondence bias, familiarity heuristic, tall poppy syndrome, and in-crowd biases are explained in relative context, their consequences to integration of immigrants and-re integration of expatriates suggesting implications of biases that play themselves out against multiple types of social classes in a manner that has practical relevance within the scope of business operations and management decision making.

I propose  the peace-making efforts of the missionaries, the printing and distribution of Bible books in te reo (the Maori language) and the eagerness of many chiefs to embrace the example of Jesus Christ (Ihu Karaiti),  were pivotal in countering the 'Musket Wars' killing that wiped out up to 20 percent of the Maori population.

Focussing on the aspect of travelling cultures, this article deals with Indigenous characters from Aotearoa/New Zealand who are internationally mobile. The discussion of Anahera Gildea’s “Te Ahi Kā” (2011), Kelly Joseph’s “Transient” (2003), Lauren Keenan’s “In the Shadow of Monte Cassino” (2017) and Arihia Latham-Coates’ “Fly Away Home” (2007) draws on current scholarly work surrounding mobility as well Indigeneity, and particularly the specific Māori concepts of tūrangawaewae and ahi kā. Rather than staying put, the main characters in each story roam the world, going to different countries yet all longing to determine what it means to be an Indigenous person and where home can be found. Each of the narratives adds another twist to the subject, thus demonstrating that, while displaying numerous commonalities, these stories simultaneously feature diverse motives, perspectives on and attitudes towards global Indigenous mobility. What is more, they testify that it is not only places which are of importance to narrations, but often also character-related aspects – including where the respective characters are before or in between their journeys, why they leave or return, and the amount of time they spend somewhere.

This article examines the evolution of Maori filmmaking since the 1980s and explores the Indigenous cinema in the context of developments in the New Zealand film industry. It does so by focusing on the predominantly state-funded production of Maori feature films while having Barry Barclay’s idea of Fourth Cinema in mind. This essay is divided in three parts. The first part traces the beginnings of Maori cinema back to the 1970s and introduces the first three feature films directed by a Maori filmmaker, Ngati (Barry Barclay, 1987), Mauri (Merata Mita, 1988), and Te Rua (Barry Barclay, 1991). The second part discusses the mainstream success of Once Were Warriors (Lee Tamahori, 1994) and the film’s paradoxical contribution to Maori cinema in the 1990s. The third and final part explores the intensified course of state-funded Maori filmmaking since the 2000s and addresses some of the opportunities and challenges facing the Indigenous cinema in the current environment of institutional and commercial globalization.

This chapter explores the complex engagements navigated by heritage professionals and a self-defined and genealogically connected community working together under the auspices of two separately funded but related projects: ‘Artefacts of Encounter’, funded by the UK’s Economic and Social Research Council and Arts and Humanities Research Council and based at the University of Cambridge Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology (MAA); and ‘Te Ataakura’, funded by the Māori Centre of Research Excellence Ngā Pae o te Māramatanga and based at the Eastern Institute of Technology, Aotearoa-New Zealand.1 These brought together Toi Hauiti, the working arts group of Te Aitanga a Hauiti, a Māori tribal community, and MAA researchers to co-create a digital contact network, a ‘reciprocal system’. Co-authored by representatives of each party and project, this chapter foregrounds the task ostensibly at hand and the work required to establish the ‘relational systems’ prerequisite to this task. In service of the latter, we describe the development of interpersonal relationships and protocols for respectful and generative transactions, where no distinction is made between their application to ‘real world’ or ‘virtual’ exchanges and ‘things’.

Drawing on the creative output of Witi Ihimaera, Apirana Taylor and Patricia Grace, this article examines how memories related to Oceania are woven into these authors' prose and verse narratives. After a brief introduction of the concept of memory, as well as the selected literary works, the analysis will be subdivided into three broad strands: firstly, the Māori notion of whakapapa and its potential for Oceanic connectivity; secondly, different mechanisms of memory transmission featured in the literary works; thirdly, the representation of special objects embodying or aiding memories. These analytical strands lead to the conclusion that the authors feature various strategies of promoting Oceanic memories, yet are similar in their display of a strong sense of connection and their inclusion of local specificity. It furthermore becomes evident that indigenous memory networks and continuity are promoted.

In this paper, I discussed the athletic aspect as well as cultural aspect of Kapa Haka which is the ethnic dance of Māori who are the indigenous people of New Zealand, through viewing how people learn Kapa Haka and how their performance is judged.

Anthropology of Consciousness vol. 6, No. 2, pp. 15-26.
ABSTRACT:
In "primitive" cultures, dual symbolic classification systems
draw rigid temporal  and spatial boundaries between the Sacred and the profane. The right and left hands are described as sacred and profane, respectively. Durkheim saw a Weakening of these systems as an aspect of modernization. A weakening of such dichotomous reason is shown in two examples. First, Hertz's study of the suppression of the left hand among the Maori links the left hand to the right cerebral hemisphere of the brain. The further inference he might have drawn, but did not, is that the right hemisphere and its pattern thinking might play a significant role in magic, sorcery, and witchcraft. The Maori physical confinement of the left hand is no longer practiced. Second, in the United States, Hugdahl et al. present data from eight one-decade cohorts showing that the decrease in left-handedness by age was countered by a corresponding increase in left-to-right hand switching. A lower life-span by left handers might account for some of the change across age cohorts, but at least half of the decrease in manifest left-handedness was accounted for by a gradual decrease in social pressure not to use the left hand. Implications for the moral solidarity of postmodern society are discussed.

This article is a extensive discussion from a Māori perspective into issues around the use of Māori cultural items, in particular haka, to commemorate the fallen in WWI. Embedded in the are key theories of cultural memory, ‘war culture’ and ‘post-war culture.’ The research outlines the differences between European and Indigenous war and post war cultural practices focusing on Māori. It seeks to understand the reluctance of Turkish officials to see haka being performed when it was apparently banned from ceremonies in 2005. It outlines the media reporting on the issue and the subsequent reintroduction of haka in August 2015 at the centenary of the Chunuk Bair battle. It unpacks deep problems inherent with using such items as they are vehicles of cultural memory. These memories carry with them deep seeded issues in relation to colonisation and the military. It highlights problems around the cultural assimilation of haka and Māori and the lack of support from wider New Zealand for protecting Te Reo Māori (Māori language). It holds that there is a place for haka in commemoration and that Māori need to be mindful of Turkish cultural sensitivities as haka was used to wage war against them. However, it explores a counter-argument to that in that haka and cultural items can be used in post-war culture to promote understanding and peace while recognising the tikanga concept of mana whenua. It points out the words of Atatürk about the embracing of those who fought at Gallipoli as the sons of Turkey. It asks Turkish officials to recognise that under no circumstances is the performance of cultural items meant to cause offence and that Turkey’s multicultural nature should recognise the practice as indigenous religious practice. As such it questions the role of Turkish officials approving Māori cultural items for commemorative ceremonies. Lastly, it opens avenues for further research into the issues raised.

All peoples develop their own academic traditions: philosophies grounded in their experiences over successive generations, and theories for growing knowledge and wisdom. Mātauranga Māori (mātauranga) is the Indigenous knowledge system of these lands. It is dynamic, innovative and generative. The mātauranga continuum is the knowledge accumulated through this system. Government policies and systems have marginalised mātauranga and prioritised Western science, and the past 100 years have seen a slowing in the expansion of the mātauranga continuum. Unless the survival of mātauranga is prioritised, it will cease to flourish. Māori have discussed and written extensively about the ongoing impact of colonisation on mātauranga and tikanga Māori. This paper builds on those discussions, arguing for tino rangatiratanga, including Māori ownership of mātauranga, fulfilment of the government's obligations to Māori, and the reinstitution of mātauranga as a primary knowledge system in Aotearoa. It explains why mātauranga revitalisation is important and outlines some of the steps towards this goal. We are calling for Western academics to support mātauranga revitalisation, with the vision of two functional knowledge systems operating that are unique to New Zealand.

A paper written following my time in the South Pacific, this essay examines how culture and language can have effects on perspective and worldview. Examples from Maori education and religious language as well as Australian Aboriginal language are used, with a final reflection on how this experience has broadened my worldview.

Winner of the Michael Standish Prize 2016. As Ann Laura Stoler notes, “what constitutes the archive, what form it takes, and what systems of classification and epistemology signal at specific times are (and reflect) critical features of colonial politics and state power.” These forms and systems determine what records are discovered, how they are accessed, and the experience of the user.

Drawing on work with Māori/iwi/hapū groups, this paper addresses settler colonialism and its continuing impact on records creation, archival access, and knowledge production in Aotearoa New Zealand. It argues that archivists should address the way our institutions are organized (both spatially and structurally), and our obligations under te Tiriti o Waitangi.

This paper examines issues relating to the appropriate display and conservation of taonga Maori in the context of a discussion of the establishment of Mahi Mareikura, a room in the University of Waikato library that is dedicated primarily to the display and conservation of the collected taonga and works of the late Dr. Pei te Hurinui Jones and a collection of the work of his colleague and close relative, Professor Bruce Biggs.

As spatial technology has evolved and become integrated in to archaeology, we face a new set of challenges posed by the sheer size and complexity of data we use and produce. In this paper I discuss the prospects and problems of Geospatial Big Data (GBD) e broadly defined as data sets with locational information that exceed the capacity of widely available hardware, software, and/or human resources. While the datasets we create today remain within available resources, we nonetheless face the same challenges as many other fields that use and create GBD, especially in apprehensions over data quality and privacy. After reviewing the kinds of archaeological geospatial data currently available I discuss the near future of GBD in writing culture histories, making decisions, and visualizing the past. I use a case study from New Zealand to argue for the value of taking a data quantity-in-use approach to GBD and requiring applications of GBD in archaeology be regularly accompanied by a Standalone Quality Report.