My Reo Journey Thus Far (Short-ish Version)
As a little Māori boy at Puketapu Primary in Bell Block, “Nappy Valley,” just north of Ngāmotu (New Plymouth) in Taranaki, I remember us Māori kids being taken out of ‘normal’ class and put in the staff room every now and then to learn our language through the coloured rods of Te Ataarangi. We didn’t know why at the time — but it was pretty cool, I guess. I always felt a deep love for my culture, despite knowing nothing about it. My reo didn’t grow in those early days, and like the other fullas I grew up with, I mispronounced names just the same.
Then, just before I started high school in 1991, I remember Dad coming to my younger brother and me and saying, “You will learn Te Reo Māori. It is the way of the future.” We shrugged it off but followed his orders. I took Te Reo Māori for five years at Te Kura Tamatāne o Ngāmotu — back then, it was just known as New Plymouth Boys’ High School. That five years ended up being six, after I repeated seventh form — a mix of poor grades, semi-pro rugby league, time with the Warriors, getting taken to MAGS in Auckland, getting expelled (for fighting and, well... other stuff), and eventually returning to NPBHS to finish my second seventh-form year.
By then, I could hold a basic conversation in Te Reo — short and simple, but something.
Fast forward to 2015 and the birth of our first pēpi, Waitohi. That’s when my soon-to-be wife, Tessa, reminded me of my own rule: “Te Reo Māori will be the first language of our babies and the main language in our home. Off to class we go.”
I started at Level 5, and she started at Level 3 at Te Wānanga o Aotearoa. From day one, I was all in. Obsessed. Every day I’d go home, notebook in hand, dictionary besides me, watching episode after episode of Ako with Pania Papa. I was hooked. People have asked how I learned so quickly — the answer’s simple: I made time. Like training in the gym or for sport, I prioritised it. I practiced at every opportunity — even when mates came over for dinner. Yup, I was that guy — the serial Te Reo pest.
From there, I carried on with Level 6 and Level 7 at Te Wānanga, took a short online course at Raukawa, and in 2019 did a few papers at Ara with the help of Hemi Hoskins. One paper in 2019, two in 2020. Then I sat and waited, unsure of how the academic system worked.
Long story short — a staff member at Ara encouraged me to submit my prior learning for possible RPL (Recognition of Prior Learning). I pulled together my evidence, paid the invoice, and... waited. A couple of years later, I followed up — no one knew anything about my submission or the application invite. It had been lost. But the invoice proved it was real. A big mihi to Stan Tawa, who helped to re-kick-off the 'evidence-finding mission' at Ara for me.
After back-and-forth emails, resubmissions, meetings, and a 3-hour CAPL presentation to the board in June 2024, I was finally told the wheels were turning. In October 2024, I found out I’d passed — my degree was in the mail. I graduated in March 2025, and I really need to thank Reimana Tutengaehe, Andrew Hercus, and Mandy Gould from Ara for their continued support with this CAPL process. They showed up time and time again and responded to many an email from me.
It was never something I strived for—a degree. Not my scene. I almost pulled out of the graduation ceremony itself three times. But in the end, it was a proud day for us as a whānau — and something I wanted my tamariki to see.
Now, I’ve got my sights set on a Master’s degree — maybe in sociology or philosophy. Watch this space.
To everyone who helped me — taku tau, Tessa; my tamariki, Waitohi, Hapahapai, Te Kākahi o Tū, and our pēpi soon to arrive — ko koutou taku ranga wairua (you are my inspiration). To my awesome kaiako over the years: Arama Cooper (Junior), Tāwhiri Ruru, Hemi Hoskins, Mariechen NJ Ngarotata, Reimana Tutengaehe, Te Hohota Kamariera, and the many others who’ve answered my endless reo pātai — Matiu Thoms, Hēnare Te Aika Puanaki, Tamahou Thoms mā — e mihi ana!
To our Te Hōhepa Kōhanga Reo and our kura, Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Te Whānau Tahi — and all the kaiako who have helped grow not only our babies’ reo, but ours too — maunga aroha ki a koutou.
Anyway, whānau — that’s the “short” version of my reo journey. The rest will be written another day.
