Auahatanga | A creative shift

Five key shifts from my time at Takiura

In 2025, I stepped back from mahi to strengthen my reo Māori through full-time study at Te Wānanga Takiura. The experience shifted more than just my reo. It changed how I see the world, how I show up in my whānau and community, and how I carry myself in my mahi. 

This series of posts reflects on five key shifts from my time at Takiura. Shifts in confidence, creativity, leadership, learning, and growth. These posts help me make sense of that journey and share what I’m carrying forward as I step into the next season of my mahi. 

Auahatanga

I didn’t expect Takiura to unlock my creativity. 

I thought I was going to Takiura to strengthen my reo. To dedicate a year, full time, to get over the barriers. To unlock the knot in my throat. To improve the structure and grammar of my reo so that I was confident to speak with friends, with kaiako at kura and kōhanga, and to teach my kids ‘proper’ reo. It was about taking a stand, blocking out the time, and taking the lead in our whānau to put te reo first. A commitment, out loud, that reo is a priority for our whānau. 

I also wanted the backing and confidence of reo for my professional career and consulting mahi. As a wahine Māori in business and working for myself, I wanted that confidence — almost like a sense of mana — that I could bring reo and mātauranga into my work without worrying that I was getting it wrong or that I wasn’t an expert or ‘enough’.  

I held onto this expectation for some time. Expecting grammar. Expecting structure. Expecting that being in a full immersion environment would force the reo out of me. And at times, along with some of my other hoa ako, I got frustrated when I wasn’t reaching the outcomes I had imagined for myself. I thought progress would look a certain way — and when it didn’t, I felt that tension. 

Almost a year on, that knot in my throat has shifted. I have grown more confident in my reo. But what I didn’t expect was for Takiura to unlock my creativity again.

During my time at Takiura, I wrote three children’s books about and for my tamāhine. I designed and hand-made one as a pop-up pukapuka and another as a flip-flap pukapuka. I wanted my tamāhine to have sensory pukapuka they could see themselves in and learn from.  

I wrote three waiata and performed them to my akomanga on my own. I opened each whakapuaki with a waiata that connected to my kaupapa kōrero. I learnt a waiata-ā-ringa from my marae and performed it to my akomanga. I wrote a whakatauākī. I wrote a speech on behalf of my akomanga and spoke as the māngai of the akomanga at our graduation.

As a kaihaka, most people expect this of me. But those close to me know how much of a big deal each waiata was, and what it took to perform them alone, calmly, and to embody my reo in these ways. 

I taught myself to weave a harakeke kupenga inspired by the story of Te Kupenga o Taramainuku and demonstrated the here kupenga technique to my akomanga. I made slime kits and demonstrated how to make glow-in-the-dark slime, inspired by the story of Uepoto and the hinātore, as part of the whakapapa of Aroreretini (ADHD). I drew and painted resources, and I learnt how to make poi atua at our noho marae. 

Through this process, I was reminded of the importance of creating living taonga that embody our mātauranga. Mātauranga and pūrākau are carried through the taonga we make. Creating with our hands becomes a way of teaching, sharing, and keeping that mātauranga alive. 

I created more in the last year than I have in years — trusting the creative process over perfection. 

What surprised me most was that passion to create things again. To teach myself new things. To research. To be inspired by whakataukī, kupu whakarite and pūrākau. To share resources with people. To learn by doing and then teach by doing. My obsession with the creative process reemerged. 

I didn’t expect creativity to be part of my reo journey. But it became a way for me to learn, to process, and a way for me to teach and share mātauranga. It became another language to express my reo. It reminded me that reo, tikanga, mātauranga, and auahatanga are not separate or in isolation — they are intertwined. 

I went to Takiura to strengthen my reo. But I didn’t expect that creativity would become one of the ways my reo grew. 
I’m carrying this with me into the next season of my mahi.