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He anga whakaaro: A framework from the literature He kohingamārama

A gathering of thoughts and understandings

This chapter draws on further national and international literature to expand and strengthen the theoretical framework that underpins this study. Additional kaumātua defined Māori concepts (grounded examples) are also utilised for this purpose. The presence of these examples recognises the orality of Māori traditions and those aspects (of the tradition) ‘that could not be changed without destroying the voices’ (Battiste, M.

2000, p. xix). Two interrelated and amalgamated themes share prominence. Drawing attention to the different (competing) discourses that (Māori) people draw upon to explain and understand their lives, this chapter looks at traditional and contemporary notions of home and belongingness in relationship to Māori identity construction. Within the context of Māori transformative development, different views on cultural connection, disconnection and reconnection are also considered. Consulting international literature has provided an arena in which to consider, compare and contrast ‘foreign’ international (and other indigenous) perspectives on the two themes, along with the perspectives of local (national) authors and grounded theorists (Kaumātua).

The literature pertaining to relative topics such as migrant and immigrant identity, decolonisation, deterritorialisation and social stratification, is prolific. The theories central to these subject areas have been considered within this literature review but with specific reference only, to my topic. Further, the selections of international ideas that bolster the theoretical framework of the research have been filtered. Ideas that referred directly to the central arguments of this work were drawn on and used to analyse, expand, corroborate and substantiate my arguments. I begin with some major findings from the literature. Showing the complex, diverse and changing nature of Māori identity, the

findings reveal the origins of the existing and competing discourses that underpin ahi kaa (home) and ahi tere (away-dweller) arguments about the authenticity, authority and identity (and voice) of Māori [Ngati Te Takinga] people. The findings also show that at a global level, maintenance of culture, knowledge of self and origins and tangible

(cultural) connection to, and care for, land; are issues of high importance. Social

connectedness, trust and participation in communities that are native to their own ground, and in which the past has prepared the present and the present safeguards the future, are found to be critical to the survival of humanity (Berry, 1986; Pretty, 2002). Home belongingness and identity and cultural connection, disconnection and reconnection are global matters.

The chapter is divided into two parts. The first expands the meaning of whakapapa within the context of Māori identity. Inextricably linked to whenua, whakapapa is shown to be central to (traditional) Māori concepts of home, belongingness and identity (ūkaipō, ahi kaa, matemateaone, hau kainga, tūrangawaewae, mana whenua) which are detailed at length. Predictably, whenua and whakapapa are also shown to be central to the

connection, disconnection and the re-connection of culturally disconnected Māori people.

Without knowledge of whakapapa, connection to one’s hapū, Iwi, marae and to ancestral lands is not possible. The second part of the chapter reviews international literature pertaining to home, belongingness, identity and cultural connection and disconnection. I draw also, on postcolonial theory ‘to describe a symbolic strategy for shaping a desirable future rather than an existing reality’ (Battiste, M. 2000, p. xix) for Ngati Te Takinga.

The ideas that are profiled, inform the investigation undertaken within the ‘E hoki ki tō maunga’ stories and give support to the Mātauranga Māori (whakapapa) based theoretical and interpretive frameworks used to analyse them.

Part One: Traditionally ‘sourced’ contemporarily ‘constructed’…..

Sources and constructions of Māori identity

For Māori, whānau have never stood alone; they are intimately connected to a whole range of relationships with both the human and the natural world,

connecting to all our relations, as First Nations people so eloquently remind us.

In our genealogies, we understand the origins of all things in a broad Creation, which we act within, rather than being masters of this universe (Smith, C. 2007, p.

73).

Traditional Māori concepts of home, belongingness and identity are underpinned by both tangible and intangible elements of the Māori ethos. For example the terms whānau, hapū and Iwi have both conceptual and concrete meanings. Whānau is used to describe a family group but can also mean to give birth; to be hapū is to be pregnant but the term can also mean sub tribe; while the word Iwi can refer to human bones or to groups of people (hapū) who are connected by common ancestry. Notions of self, whānau and individual and collective tribal identity are inextricably linked with the ethos of Māori culture. As explained previously, whakapapa (genealogy) and knowledge and

understanding of one’s whakapapa was, and for some still is, the principal and most important component of a person’s (Māori) identity (Barlow, 1991; Karetu, 1992;

Rangihau, 1992; Temara, 2005) Whakapapa is a portal to a dynamic, complex and deeply embedded epistemological system that is Māori-centered and which centres Māori’

being’. Premised on a range of intricately woven organisational frameworks, whakapapa act as repositories of and for, a collection of culturally embedded practical imperatives (Takino, 1998). Sense of belonging to one’s community was/is derived from knowledge and understanding of whakapapa (Barlow, 1991).

Used not only to determine human genealogy, whakapapa also functions as a metaphor for the act of Creation and for the evolution of the universe and all living creatures within it (Marsden, 1992; Shirres, 1997; Kingston Strategic Ltd, 2007). The explicit relationship between human kind and the universe, and in particular with land, is demonstrated within Māori mythology which holds that the first human person Hineahuone was created by Tane-nui-arangi. Moulded from Papatuanuku (mother/earth) at a place known as

Kurawaka (Buck, 1974; Best, 1982; Walker, 1990; Shirres, 1997; Weka, 2004) Tāne, a son to Papatuanuku and her husband Ranginui (heaven/sky), then took Hineahuone as his wife and from their union was born Hinetitama (the dawn maid). When Hinetitama came of age, Tane took her as a wife. Their subsequent union gave rise to human kind thereby providing a passage (for humans) into the physical and spiritual realms of the universe.

When learning that Tāne her husband was also her father, in her shame Hinetitama fled to Rarohenga (the underworld) to become the personified Goddess of Death Hine-nui-i-te-pō. It is to Hine-nui-i-te-pō that people return after death. The practice of ‘iho whenua’, or the burial in the earth of a new born baby’s umbilical cord and placenta (whenua), affirms and maintains the universal whakapapa connection to Papatuanuku; as does the (Māori) tradition of burying people within Papatuanuku upon their death. Human whakapapa originates and remains within the land, hence the importance of whenua (land) to Māori identity. The land and the placenta sustain life and create a relationship with a wider environment (M. Durie, 2001).

The relationship between whenua and whakapapa is also evidenced within place names.

Dedicated by tūpuna to tūpuna, the land of Aotearoa is replete with histories that tie the people to the land and the land to the people. Mountains, peninsulas, rocks, trees, lakes, rivers and places where significant events occurred, all bear names that carry a

whakapapa. For example, the full name of Lake Rotoiti which was discovered by the valiant Te Arawa ancestor Ihenga, is ‘te Rotoiti i kitea e Ihenga’ (the small lake

discovered by Ihenga). Likewise, the mountain Moehau which is located in the Firth of Thames in the North Island of Aotearoa, carries the name ‘Moehau o Tama’ – the sleeping sacredness of Tamatekapua. Captain of the Te Arawa canoe, on arrival in Aotearoa Tamatekapua en route to Whangaparaoa on the East Coast, claimed ownership of the mountain and in his latter years, returned to live and die there (Stafford, 1986).

Responsible for the naming of many landmarks in the Te Arawa district and beyond, the following narrative demonstrates the process by which Ihenga, grandson of Tamatekapua, went about naming places:

Ihenga travelled by way of Waiomio giving names to places as he went. Ruapekapeka (cavern of bats) was named from the thousands of bats found there in the hollows of the trees; Tapuae-haruru (resounding footsteps) from the noise made by [Ihenga’s] footsteps. The hill Motatau (talk to oneself) was so called from Ihenga talking to himself. Going on [Ihenga] came to a river where [he] saw his own image in the still waters, so the river was named Te Waiwhakaata-a- Ihenga (the reflecting waters of Ihenga) (Stafford, D. 1986, p. 40).

Still in use today, the historical significance (whakapapa) of these place names and the places themselves, are an omnipresent link between the land, the events that occurred and ancestors in whose memories the places are so named - and who named them. Authority, or the mana over these places, is vested in whānau, hapū and Iwi who hold the mana whenua.

The term mana whenua refers to those people who remain upon and/or look after

traditional hapū and Iwi lands. The concept of mana whenua recognises the authority of the home people (hau kainga) as being sourced through their unbroken relationship (term of residence) on the land (H. Mead, 2003). Likewise the term tūrangawaewae while not always referring specifically to whenua, portrays a place where a person has a right to belong or, a place to ‘stand’. Determined in the first instance through whakapapa, a person’s right to tūrangawaewae is generally forged by their forebears who, for example, may have named, lived, borne children and fought and died on that land. Important occasions such as whānau births, weddings, birthdays and funerals continue to take place upon tūrangawaewae, for example, tangihanga at the marae. For many, tūrangawaewae is a place where ideas of identity and belonging can be publicly affirmed and asserted through explicit means such as whaikōrero and/or mihimihi (speech making) (J.

Diamond, 2001).

In both their literal and conceptual translations, other Māori concepts of home,

belongingness and identity also mirror the parallels between human genealogies and the physical and spiritual realms (whakapapa) of the universe. For example the term

‘ūkaipō’ (to feed from a mother’s breast in the night) has numerous interconnected conceptual meanings which demonstrate the interrelated nature of people and the natural environment. Sometimes used when making reference to a person’s mother, ūkaipō can

also be used to denote the place (whenua) where a person is nurtured. In a physical sense ūkaipō relates to human attachment to land and from an emotional perspective, to a sense of belonging, sustenance and nurturing (H. Kawharu, 1979; Barlow, 1991; Metge, 1995;

Durie, 2001; Diamond, 2003). The term comes into its own within the desire amoungst Māori and other groups of people, to return to their homeland to die and to be buried.

Ngāmaru Raerino (2004) described the concept of ūkaipō as being:

Te wāhi i pupū mai ai tō hau me tō mauri – the place from which the vitality of the land and the essence of your being emanates or where the mauri and vitality of your being is from. Intangible concepts such as hau and mauri can be explained this way. Mauri is the life principle, the hau is the little wee thing that sparks the life principle (N. Raerino, pers. comm., 2004).

Ūkaipō relates to a very human requirement for comfort that can transcend racial differences and religious distinctions and denominations (J. Diamond, 2001). Like Māori, many other indigenous people also have a notion of ūkaipō within their psyche.

Being born of a place (ūkaipō) and remaining connected to a place (ūkaipō) was/is considered to be fundamental to the health and well-being of a person (Smith, 2007). To be without ūkaipō was/is to be exposed to harm: Smith explains:

While indigenous peoples’ movement to different places could happen seasonally, there was a continuation of connection to places through generations of memory and responsibility. For Māori, states of disconnection could result in illness. There are common terms for peoples who are considered ill through states of disconnectedness. They are considered to be more of the

‘rangi’ state, and lacking in presence. Terms exist such as rangirua (confusion), wairangi (mad), haurangi (drunk), and porangi (mad). Such people were considered ill. They could be wanderers with no sense of purpose. In some cases, people who were forcibly removed from their lands did sicken and die. The death rates of Māori who were imprisoned in the South Island and on the Chatham Islands after forced removal were high, believed to be not only from the harsh conditions but also from a deep longing [matemateaone] (Smith, C. 2007, p. 69).

The terms matemateaone [longing for home] and ūkaipō are inextricably linked with the concept of hau kainga. Literally translated to home wind, hau kainga refers to the winds of home which carry the airborne essences of the land and the water ways (Mutu, 2002).

Hau kainga is also used to identify the people of a place (te hau kainga). The term

situates the home people as integral components of both the physical environment and the spiritual essence known as te hau kainga or home. In its deepest sense, genealogical connection (whakapapa) is at the heart of traditional Māori concepts of home, belongingness and identity.

Ta tēnā ta tēnā ….

Variations on themes

The Māori concepts introduced in this chapter are contextualised and elaborated upon within the stories in chapters five, six, seven and eight. Other Māori concepts of home, belongingness and identity such as urupa – rua Koiwi (burial ground), ahi kaa (home fires) and mauri (life essence) and matemateaone (longing for home) are central to the theoretical framework of this thesis. The concepts are accorded different meanings by different Iwi groups. For example L. Carter (2004) of the Ngai Tahu Iwi in the South Island of New Zealand, explains the concept of ahi kaa by linking it with an interrelated concept known as ahi kaa roa. Explaining these terms Carter writes:

[The] ahi kaa roa and ahi kaa are directly related to the principle of tiakitanga. The people who remain in permanent residence in a particular area maintain the ahi kaa roa – the permanent burning fires. Those who can whakapapa to the area but do not necessarily live there have ahi kaa – burning fires. The extent to which the latter group’s fires burn depends on the amount of participation they are prepared to engage in with the permanent guardians and caretakers of the home areas and its resources (Carter, L. 2004, p. 73).

In contrast however, Ngati Mākino-Ngati Pikiao elder Te Ariki Morehu did not support the use of the term ‘ahi kaa’ as a means to distinguish a person’s state of residence on the land. Te Ariki maintained “ko te ahi kaa ā, kāore au e tino pai ki tērā. He kupu tērā ki āu, he whakatū riri anō i roto i ngā Iwi kōrero whenua” [I am not fond of the term ahi kaa. To me, its use can renew land conflicts between Iwi]. Continuing Te Ariki explained:

Ko te ahi kaa, he kupu tērā ki tōku mōhio mō ngā whenua i whāwhatia i kaa ai ngā ahi a te hunga whāwhaki, tahuna ai ngā whare o ngā Iwi ka mate ana i te Iwi whakaeke ki ngā pakanga, koira tōku mōhio I te timatatanga o tērā kupu mō tērā kōrero te ahi kaa (T. Morehu, pers. comm., 2005).

[To my knowledge, the word ahi kaa refers to lands that have been fought over and won; and the fires that were lit by the victors, after the battle. They burnt the houses of those they killed during battle and the fire notified their presence on the land].

Expanding his commentary Te Ariki stated that historically, war parties, having

conquered their adversaries, would move onto the next battle thereby leaving the ahi to go out. If victorious in the subsequent battle, the process of ahi kaa would be repeated:

“Ā, kua weto te ahi” – the fire has gone out - maintained Te Ariki “kua kore he take o

tērā kupu” – the use of the term is flawed for there is no fire …. it has no substance. Te Ariki preferred the term ‘mana whenua’ to delineate the long-standing presence of an Iwi on the land. To elaborate he said:

Ko ngā tāngata noho i reira, kei a rātou te mana o te whenua, ki āu, koira kē te kōrero e tika ana, te mana o te whenua. Te mana whenua ko wai kei runga i te whenua e mahi ana i te whenua e tiaki ana i te whenua e whāngai ana i te whenua. Kati tērā, ka mate ngā tāngata e tiaki ana i te whenua, kua nehua i reira nā, te mana o ngā tāngata rā kei roto i te whenua (T. Morehu, pers. comm., 2005).

[The people who live there, they have the mana of the land. To me, that is the right terminology – te mana o te whenua; and that mana …. it is determined by those who reside on the land, who work the land, who look after and nurture the land. And when they die, they are buried in the land and their mana becomes vested in the land; these days many people have left the land.]

Summarising Te Ariki’s literal view, the term ahi kaa refers to the fires lit on defeated lands by invaders, when sacking the homes of the conquered. The use of the term to define a person’s connection to a place can therefore, as Te Ariki suggests, “whakatū riri anō i roto i ngā Iwi korero whenua”: open old wounds and renew old land conflicts between Iwi. This thinking, however, does not deter others from using the term ahi kaa to define the home people in their role as the ongoing occupiers of hapū and Iwi lands (Walker, 1990; Barlow, 1991; Carter, 2004; Temara, 2005). Mana whenua and ahi kaa are used synonymously within this thesis when referring to the Ngati Te Takinga home people. The use of both terms acknowledges those of our people who may have been alienated from traditional hapū lands. Although no longer able to exercise mana whenua due for example to urbanisation, the use of the term ‘ahi kaa’ (as a metaphor for ‘keeping the home fires burning’) acknowledges the roles of these people in maintaining Ngati Te Takinga-Ngati Pikiao cultural imperatives, through their sustained work at the marae and/or amoungst the hapū and Iwi.

This section presented an overview of traditional Māori norms that underpin Māori concepts of home and ‘belongingness’. With the understanding of these concepts as a foundational framework, I now turn and examine Māori identity. The examination shows how contemporary and diverse Māori lifestyles, and subsequent attitudes to cultural beliefs, have changed the ways in which people now identify as Māori.

Ko wai koe, nō hea koe, nā wai koe?

Belonging and connection to land and to family – traditional norms as a basis for Māori identity

Ae, ko tātou, ko tātou. Ahakoa hoki pēhea te tawhiti o te tangata, kei roto i ngā whakapapa ka taea anō te whiriwhiri, kua rite ki te whāriki, e rarangatia nei e ngā kuia ana, ki konei tēnā, kua ataahua, titiro anō rātou, oh, kā hē, kā hē. Ae, kei roto i ngā whakapapa, i haere katoa mai rātou mā runga i te waka o Te Arawa, ā Ngati Ohomairangi. Ana tō tupuna i tū mai ra i Pikirangi, a Ohomairangi ...

Yes, we are all one. Irrespective of how distant the relationship is between people; genealogy is like the weaving of a flax mat and it is beautiful. It is within the whakapapa. Our ancestors came together aboard the canoe ‘Te Arawa’ they were known as Ngati Ohomairangi. And that is your ancestor, he who stood at Pikirangi …. Ohomairangi (Te Ariki Mōrehu, pers. comm., 2005).

Just as different meanings are applied to particular Māori words and concepts, there are also different ways in which Māori people identify as Māori. Māori conceptual and dialectical (language) differences vary according to different hapū-Iwi. Sources and constructions of Māori identity, however, have become increasingly individualised according to experience and choice. Two Māori identity types are proffered. The first, which is encapsulated within the above quote from renown Te Arawa Kaumātua Te Ariki Morehu, is sourced in (Iwi) Māori tradition (whakapapa) and the second is a modern

‘constructed’ Māori identity (Carter, 1998). The authenticity and legitimacy of both identities is a site of ongoing contest and debate. To understand this argument, an examination of both sites is necessary. I focus firstly, on Māori identity that is shaped from within a traditional Māori paradigm and secondly, on the modern socially

constructed (neo) Māori identity. To conclude, I present arguments from both sides of the Iwi-Māori and ‘neo’ Māori ‘authentication of identity’ debate.

Organic and authentic?

Two main points of reference underpin the notion of a traditional (organic) Māori identity. Located within traditional Māori norms (Pickering, 1997) they are: tribal

structures based on descent from a Māori ancestor, closely associated with a tribal location, and cultural practices or, a shared system of understanding that a group deems to be important and meaningful to them. In practice, for a person to have a traditional Māori identity, they would be required to have grown up (or to be growing up) in a Māori community and to have earned (be earning) apprenticeships by engaging and

participating in the learning of customs and traditions of their tribal group (Rangihau, 1992). Rangihau conceived of Māori identity as stemming primarily from genealogical descent from an ancestor. His thinking is supported by Walker (1989) who maintains that cultural traits such as language, tribalism, landownership, and tūrangawaewae are critical to Māori identity. Timoti Karetu’s definition suggests that the key determinant of Māori identity was/is shaped by the society in which one is raised and through the

observance of Māori rites of passage - as opposed to blood quantum or whakapapa (Karetu, 1990, cited in Pickering, 1997, p.3). Having themselves grown up in the traditional ways they describe, the positions on Māori identity that Rangihau (1992), Walker (1989) and Karetu (1990) take are contextually understandable. Ongoing detribalisation however, brings these positions into question.

Picking up the pieces: Modern Māori identities

Never static, the degrees to which Māori traditions and concepts of place and belonging shape a person’s Māori identity vary. Colonisation, urbanisation and assimilation have lead to a decline in Māori tribal based communities. The resultant dispersal of Māori people to all parts of Aotearoa New Zealand and to the world at large has heralded the development of a modern Māori identity. A multifaceted construct, modern (popular) Māori identities are shaped according to an individual’s experience/s of being Māori;

they can be unique to the individual and, as such, they can be (and are) markedly different. Carter (1998) explains:

There is no unitary Māori reality, no one Māori identity, no single way of growing up Māori. All of us have been subjected to colonisation and colonisation has affected us all in different ways.

Some of us identify as ‘part-Māori’ and others lay claim to being ‘full-blooded’ Māori. Some of us grow up speaking te reo Māori and some of us grow up not even knowing we’re Māori. The thing we need to appreciate is for every Māori who grows up in this society there is another way of growing up Māori. None of us have grown up like our tūpuna did and the way in which we do grow up is our particular reality. All of us were born with the potential to be Māori and it is this potential, which makes us Māori (Carter, J. 1998. p. 259).

Carter’s (1998) claims hold weight. Growing up outside of one’s tribal homelands and/or without knowledge of one’s Māori (hapū-Iwi) origins, customs and traditions does not nullify the existence of the Māori ethos that underpins a person’s Māori identity. The traditional elements of their modern identity remain but they are ‘locked’, sometimes forever, or at other times until they become known. The conscious decision not to construct one’s Māori identity according to ‘classical’ Māori constructs, is also a possibility. The choice to do so can be indicative of a number of cultural and socio-economic realities. According to Mason Durie in Te Hoe Nuku Roa (1999), the relevance of so-called traditional values is not the same for all Māori.

Traditional Māori concepts of home, belonging and identity are impacted by modern means of constructing Māori identity. When conducting Mātauranga Māori based research, Royal (2003) recognised:

That a good deal of the way in which we approach concepts in the traditional Māori worldview is to consider them through a paradigm of what it means to be Māori today. Māori cultural identity - particularly our contemporary need to construct a Māori identity - has come to dominate

traditional Māori concepts which were created outside of such a paradigm (Royal, T. 2003, p. 5).

The idea that the ‘gaze’ of ‘modern’ Māori skews traditional Māori worldview concepts, is also reinforced by Tākino (1998). Tākino refers to this phenomenon as the

‘decontextualisation of whakapapa kōrero’. Like Royal (2003), Tākino’s concerns arise when traditional Māori worldview concepts are removed from their natural environment and re-fashioned to ‘fit’ within a western more lineal view of the world. Consequently, dominated or colonised (traditional) ‘Māori’ concepts become the basis upon which modern Māori identity may be constructed. Participant Te Ariki Morehu’s view on the modern day use of the term ‘ahi kaa’ is one such (possible) example of the colonisation of Māori concepts.

Carter’s (1998) reference to a ‘popular’ construction of Māori identity confronts the questions and the inferences that surround the validity, authenticity and legitimacy of a person’s claims to Māori identity. Responding to questions that ask who is Māori, who decides who is Māori and what is it to grow up Māori, Carter asserts:

Someone who grows up the daughter of a Pākehā mother and a Māori father is ‘part-Māori’;

someone who ‘grows up Pākehā’ is ‘un-Māori’ and someone who doesn’t know or realise they are Māori until they have grown up or are in the process of growing up is a ‘born-again’ Māori.

Ultimately, we may find ourselves suggesting it is only the ‘real’ Māori who ‘grows up Māori’.

So ‘growing up Māori’ might include being born of a Māori father and a Māori mother, growing up on or around your home marae, growing up speaking te reo Māori, growing up surrounded by your kuia and koroua, growing up in a world where you know you are Māori. We might say

‘growing up ‘Māori’ involves all those things that we conceive of as being authentically and or traditionally Māori (Carter, J. 1998, p. 256) .

Carter’s (1998) inquiries into the construction of Māori identity speak to Māori people such as some of the members of Ngati Te Takinga who, due to their upbringing, are unable to source their Māori identity within traditional Māori processes and practice. The question of legitimacy, that is, who decides who is a Māori, is an integral component of the inclusion process that exists amoungst Iwi groups (Emery, 2001). More often, for those who have not grown up at the marae observing traditional rites of passage, a difference in standing is evident. Being neither mana whenua nor ahi kaa, our ‘ahi tere’

(someone who has left the homelands taking part of the ahi with them) status can be (and often is) interpreted to mean we are no longer ‘truly’ Ngati Te Takinga or, a ‘real’ Māori.

The process of validating our ‘Māoriness’ so as to gain acceptance, requires compliance and behaviour modification; it can also involve compromise. Ihimaera’s (1998) idea that Māori today is not the same Māori as yesterday and will not be the same as the Māori of tomorrow, suggests that legitimacy of Māori identity is determined by time,

circumstance and situation and not by other Māori. In support of this idea Babab and Willmott (1989, cited in Pickering, 1987) concur that identities develop and change over time, are multi-faceted and shape one’s perception and judgment of self and others.

This thesis draws from both sides of the Māori identity argument. While giving consideration to and supporting the idea of the modern, developing Māori identity, the thesis is grounded in traditional Māori norms (Pickering, 1997). Whakapapa or

genealogical descent from our common ancestor Te Takinga is at the heart of this work.

To this end, the connective and reconnective focus of the research has sought to provide an all encompassing whakapapa of Ngati Te Takinga as a place where disconnected Ngati Te Takinga people can build a ‘secure Māori cultural identity’ (Durie, M. 1997, p.