Joan Te Kani

The people of Tauranga were shocked to hear of the death of Mrs Joan Te Kani at the early age of 34. She was an energetic leader of her people, and had won the respect and admiration of both Maori and Pakeha. Her tangi at the Hunga Hunga Toroa marae at Matapihi was the largest in the Tauranga area in recent years, as hundreds from all walks of life came to pay tribute.

She was born at Te Puna, attended Tauranga College and Ardmore Teachers' College, and taught at several Bay of Plenty Schools. At the time of her death she was on the staff of Arataki Primary School and also taught Maori culture at Mt Maunganui College.

In many spheres Joan Te Kani was involved in working for the welfare of her people, being honorary secretary of the Tukairangi Maori Committee for nine years and organiser and public relations officer of the Ratana Youth Movement. She was also very active in campaigning for the Labour Party.

She leaves her husband and twin sons.

Dan Kingi

Raniera Te Tawhiti Kingi, a chief of the Arawa confederation of tribes and a leading Ngati Whakaue elder, died at his home in Rotorua aged 75. He was one of the few people left who had been born on Mokoia Island, in the middle of Lake Rotorua.

Mr Kingi was educated at Rotorua Primary School and Te Aute College. He served in the First World War, and was invalided home after being gassed.

When the Arawa Maori Trust Board was formed in 1924, Dan Kingi became its secretary, a position he held for 21 years until ill-health, the result of his war injuries, forced him to retire.

His services to his people were recognised by the award of an O.B.E. in the Queen's Birthday Honours in 1966.

Irene Tipene

Mrs Tipene, aged 65, died in a Sydney hospital. She was a foundation member and president of the Polynesian Club and of the Maori Club in Sydney, and taught Maori culture to pupils of primary schools in Sydney.

Mrs Tipene's great-grandfather was Tuhirangi, and her great-grand-uncle was Hone Heke.

Her ashes were to be returned for burial in New Zealand.

Peta Maynard

A service was held at his birthplace, Manutuke, for Petera te Hiwiroa Maynard who died in Gisborne aged 77.

After attending Manutuke School and Waerenga-a-Hika College, Mr Mavnard became a shearing contractor until he was appointed district organiser for the New Zealand Worker's Union in 1938. a position he held until his retirement five years ago.

Keenly interested in his people's welfare, Mr Maynard was an original member of the New Zealand Maori Council, took an interest in Maori land problems, being closely associated with Judge Carr, and took a leading role in the local Anglican community. His services to his people and to the community in general were recognised when he was appointed a Justice of the Peace.

He is survived by his second wife, formerly Reremoana Watson, and 15 children. A former wife, Te Ata Heperi, and two children predeceased him.

Thomas Taitapanui

Well known in Te Karaka and the surrounding area as Tommy Rutene, Thomas Tuta Taitapanui died suddenly as he cycled through the township.

For about 20 years Mr Taitapanui worked for the Ministry of Works, maintaining the state highway between Waipaoa and Waikohu, and was known to the majority of residents in the district.

The son of Mr and Mrs Rutene Taitapanui, he was born at Rakaiketeroa near Te Karaka in 1905, and at an early age came with his parents to live in the township. He completed his education at Te Aute.

In 1924 Mr Rutene was married to Matilda Parata of Tokomaru Bay. Though handicapped by almost total deafness, Mr Rutene had a wide interest in community affairs, particularly in the Te Karaka Fire Brigade and the St John's Ambulance Association.

Mr Taitapanui is survived by his wife and family, James, Lovey, Charlie and Tuta.

Captain Pirimi Perarika Tahiwi

‘Prim’, as he was known to young and old, died at his Island Bay home at the age of 78. He was born in Otaki and educated at Otaki Maori College, Te Aute College and Wellington Teachers' College.

Before and after the First World War he was a teacher, and resident Master at Otaki Maori College until the Second World War. He went overseas with the pioneer Maori Battalion, and soon attained the rank of Captain. He served in Egypt, Gallipoli, France, Belgium and for a period did garrison duty on the island of Malta. He was severely wounded at Gallipoli, and was evacuated to England. During his convalescence he was asked to command the New Zealand troops through London to attend the first ANZAC service ever held — conducted by the Bishop of London in Westminster Abbey.

During the Second World War he served as instructor with the Maori Battalion from 1939 to 1944.

He had great pride in his Maoritanga, and taught Maori language and culture for many years. He was president of the Wellington Tribal Committee for 15 years, and for a long time was honorary welfare officer in the Levin-Otaki area.

With his wife he went on the Gallipoli pilgrimage, conducting a special service in honour of his Maori people, in memory of his fallen brethren, advancing slowly to the memorial, greenstone mere in his hand, and reciting Maori laments.

His funeral service was held in St Paul's Cathedral, Wellington, and many, from all walks of life, came to pay him tribute. After'tributes at Raukawa marae, the final committal service was held in Rangiatea Church. He is survived by his wife, Mairatea Tahiwi, M.B.E.

Haere e Pirimi
Haere ki te Po
Haere ki te Okiokinga
Haere ki tatou Ariki
Haere ki o Tupuna

I tū te hui-ā-tau a ngā tamariki Māori o ngā whare wānanga, kāreti rānei, ki te pari o Waikato mai i te iwa ki te tekau mā tahi o Mei. Ko ngā mea i meinga mai hei tiaki i a mātou, ko Hōne Mohi rāua ko Rihi Mātene.

I wehe atu au i Pōneke nei i te ahiahi o te Paraire 9 i te hāpāhi o te whā, ā, ka haere te tereina rā, pakū, pakū pīhoi-hoi haere, ā, tae atu ki waho o Hāmutana i te hāpāhi i te whā i te ata tū. Tae mai a rātou ki te tūtaki i a au, na ka haere atu mātou ki te wāhi moe i mua atu i te tātinga o te hui i te iwa o ngā hāora.

Ngā tāngata i reira i haere mai i ngā Kāreti Kura Māhita o Ākarana (North Shore) Ardmore, Pāmutana, ko hau hoki (Pōneke), me ngā Whare Wānanga o Ākarana, Pōneke (Wikitōria) me Herewini Ngata o Otākou, na, me te tangata whenua hoki, rātou ko tō rātou kaumātua, a Moana Raureti. Ētahi o ngā kaikōrero, me ngā manuhiri ko Phil Amos, Vernon Penfold, Hugh Kāwharu, Pare Hopa mā o Ākarana, ko Katarina Mataira, Mata Christensen, me ētahi atu.

I te huakinanga o te hui, ka mihi mai a Hōne Mohi, ka a ia ‘Te take nui o tēnei hui, hei huihuinga, arā, hei kōrerorero, hei tūtatakinga mō mātou ngā taitamariki Māori o te motu nei. Ētahi o ngā mea hei tironga mā mātou ko ngā raruraru mātauranga e pā ana ki a tātou te iwi Māori, ki ā tātou tamariki, na tae noa atu ki ā rātou tamariki, ia tau, ia tau.’

Ko te Mema Rēipa mō Manurewa, ko Mr P. Amos, te kaikōrero tuatahi i te rā nei. Ka kōrero ia mō ngā wā o mua, mai i te okinga o ngā kura, ngā whakaaro mō ngā tamariki Māori. Nā ngā Kura Hāhi anake ngā tamariki i puta hei kaiārahi mō tātou; pērā i Te Aute, i a Tīpene, i a Hato Paora. mō ngā kōtiro, ko Kuini Wikitōria, Hōhepa, Hukarere me Turakina. Ka kōrero nōki a ia mā ērā kura i ngā wāhi e kore e

 

The Annual National Maori Students' Conference was held at Hamilton Teachers' College on the Waikato Campus. Their college representatives, our host and hostess, were John Mohi and Elizabeth Marsden.

I left Wellington on Friday 9th at 4.30 p.m. by train (express) and was rocked and bashed about until I arrived at Frankton Junction, a suburb of Hamilton at about 4.50 a.m. Two of their students were at the station to meet me and they took me to the flat where I was to sleep before conference started at 9 a.m.

The people there (delegates) had come from the Teachers' Colleges of Auckland (North Shore), Ardmore, Palmerston North and Wellington; and the Universities of Auckland, Wellington (Victoria) and Herewini Ngata (Otago) along with the Waikato students with their elder Mr Moana Raureti. Some of the speakers and visitors were Phil Amos, Vernon Penfold, Hugh Kawharu, Polly Hopa and others of the Auckland area, Katarina Mataira from Hamilton, Miss Christensen and others from Wellington and the South Island.

To open the conference John Mohi welcomed us saying, ‘The main reason or function of this conference will be mainly a social one, where we will all gather to meet and talk with other Maori students of this country. Some of the topics for discussion will be educational problems that affect us as a race, our children and their children in the future.’

The Labour Member for Manurewa, Mr Phil Amos, was the first speaker. He spoke first on the historical aspect of education, and focused on the first schools with special consideration for the Maori children. The Church Schools were the ones that produced the Maori leaders then; schools like Te Aute, St Stephen's, St Paul's, and, for the girls, Queen Victoria, St Joseph's, Huka-

 

 

taea e tātou te haere atu, i ngā pitopito o te motu nei, ngā pukepuke, ngā pā rānei. Nāna i kī pau atu e whā, e rima rānei tau i te kura, puta mai ngā tamariki kāore kē e tino mōhio ana ki te kōrero i te reo Pākehā.

Ka tini ngā pepa, ngā kōrero i pau ki te whakaatu ē, me pēnei me pēnā tātou kia mōhio ai ā tātou tamariki, ēngari hoi nā anō. Ko tātou te iwi mō te pākiwaha, ka mutu. E kore kē tātou e mahi kia tika ai.

I āna tatau mai mō ngā tamariki Māori, Pākehā, i puta i ngā kura i te tau 1967, he pēnei.

O ngā mea i mutu i te kāreti i muri atu i te toru, whā rānei tau:

Māori	35%
Pākehā	15%

Tae rawa atu ki te wā kua pau te ono tau ki te Kāreti he pēnei:

Māori	4.5%
Pākehā	22%

O ēnei, kotahi anō i roto o te kotahi rau, e toru tekau mā rima, arā, 1 in 135, i whiwhi i te mea nei, te tiwhikete mō te Whare Wānanga, arā University Entrance. Mō ngā Pākehā: Kotahi i roto o te kotahi tekau mā rua, arā, 1 in 12, i whiwhi i tana Tiwhikete.

Whitu tekau mā iwa o ngā tama/wāhine Māori i mutu i te Kura i te tau 1967 i mutu noa iho. Kāore i taki; kāore he tiwhikete, aha atu rānei.

Ngā mea i haere tonu atu ki ngā Whare Wānanga o te motu nei:

Māori	0.8%
Pākehā	7.7%

Ki ngā Kāreti Wakaako Māhita:

Māori	1.3%
Pākehā	4.3%

Ka nui tēnei, nē? Kahitia pēheatia, te tau 1967, he tau koretake.

Ka whakapā atu ia ki te Maori Education Foundation, ‘Nā te Māori mō te Māori’. Mena kē tēnei moni e whakapaungia ana hei tino pei atu i ā tātou tamariki ki te rapu i ngā mātauranga nunui o te ao nei. Waiho ngā kuranga o ā tātou tamariki mā te Kāwanatanga e tiaki, pēnei i ngā wāhi mō

 

 

rere and Turakina. He also spoke about those isolated schools, hard to get at and found in valleys and pas throughout the country, in the rural areas. He reported that after four or five years of schooling Maori children still had language difficulties.

Many papers, books and statements about our problem had been produced with suggested remedies, but that is all. We are a society of talkers but not doers.

Mr Amos quoted the following statistics of Maori and Pakeha children from the N.Z.E.I. Report 1967:

Those leaving school after their third or fourth form year:

Maori	35%
Pakeha	15%

After the sixth form (college):

Maori	4.5%
Pakeha	22%

Of these 1 in 135 of the Maori had University Entrance and 1 in 12 of the Pakeha.

79% of Maori students left school (1967) without any certificate of educational qualification.

Those who went on to Universities throughout the country were:

Maori	0.8%
Pakeha	7.7% — 9 times greater

Those who went on to Teachers' Training Colleges:

Maori	1.3%
Pakeha	4.3%

These statistics are quite enough, aren't they? Whichever way you look at it, 1967 was a poor year.

Mr Amos referred to the Maori Education Foundation saying, ‘From the Maori for the Maori… ‘ He would have liked to see this money being used as a ‘backstop’, or to push the student into further and higher fields of learning. Leave the ordinary schooling of our children to the Government, for

 

 

ērā tamariki iti atu i te rima tau. Riro kē mā te Maori Education Foundation e tāti, e rapu he moni hei whakahaere. Ehara kē tēnei i te mahi pai mā ngā moni nei.

Pā atu ia ki te Waetford-Pritchard Rīpoata, ki ngā whenua. Ka haere āna kōrero, ā, ka kī ia, ‘Me mahi tātou ināianei. Ehara āpōpō, ā tērā tau rānei, ēngari ināianei. Kaua e tukuna mā te Pākehā e kōrero ō whakaaro. Māu anō, mā ō tamariki Māori, me tohetohe koe ki ngā iwi Pākehā, ki ō kaumātua pēnei i ngā iwi tamariki i haere mai nei i ākarana e kore nei e pai kia haere a tātou ki Āwhirika ki te purei whutupaoro.’

Na, ka mutu āna kōrero. Ngenge ana mātou i te nohonga, e mate ana hoki ētahi o mātou mō te kapu tī me te hikareti. Pau atu te hāora me te hāwhe i a ia.

Miss Christensen:

Tēnei wahine nō Pōneke nei, he wahine mōhio ki ngā mahi e pai ana mā ngā tamariki nonohi, arā, e toru tau tae noa ki te rima. Ētahi o ngā kōrero i puta mai i ā ia i pai hoki ki aku taringa ko ēnei:

1.	Me kite koe i a ia, te tamaiti, ehara i ana roro, i tana āhua rānei.
2.	Akongia ki te ārahi, ā, ki te whakarongo noki.
3.	Ki te tipu mātau ki ngā mea I mua, i muri, i te taha rānei ōna, ki te karametau o ngā ringa, kanohi, waewae, tinana hoki.

I mea a Phil Amos, tātou he iwi kōrero, tuhituhi. E mea ana au he tika. Tini ana ngā kōrero kua puta mō tēnei taha o ā tātou tamariki. Kua kōrero kē anō ahau ki tēnei mea i roto i tēnei pukapuka i ērā atu tau. Na, heoi mō tēnei. Ka haere mātou ki te kai, na kī ana ō mātou puku. Ka tini haere ngā hoa kōrero.

I te ahiahi, ka kōrero a Hāmuera Eruiti, he kaiwhakaako i te Kāreti o Waikato mō ngā Kura Māhita. rāua ko tētahi tangata, Mr F. MacPherson, he māhita — taku mohio — nō te Kāreti o Tipene.

I kōrero a Hāmuera mō ngā tamariki i roto i ngā kura mai i te rima tau, ā, haere noa ki te kāreti, nā tana hoa hoki, mō te taha kāreti. I te tini o ngā take i puta mai i taua ahiahi nei, ngaruru pai taku mātenga. Tēnā pea nā te hiamoe noki me te mamae o taku

 

 

example, Pre-School education. The M.E.F. initiates or encourages the raising of money and administers the fund. This is not the best use for these monies.

Mr Amos also referred to the Waetford-Pritchard report on land problems and went on to say, ‘We must work on now. Not tomorrow, or next year, but now. Don't let the Pakeha do your talking for you. Do it yourself. The young educated Maori of today — voice your protests, both to the Pakeha and to your elders. Be like these Auckland delegates that are against the proposed football tour to South Africa.’

And so he came to an end. We were all tired from sitting on hard chairs and, of course, were dying for a cup of tea and a cigarette. Mr Amos spoke for an hour and a half.

Miss Christensen:

She is from Wellington here; a woman who knows the advantages of pre-school education, that is from 3–5 years. Some of the things she said with which I fully agreed, were:

1.	You must see the child as he is, not how clever he is.
2.	Teach them to be leaders and also to obey, or follow instructions.
3.	To grow physically he must learn from things around him (environmental) to master skills of the hands, feet or muscles.

Phil Amos said in his lecture that we are a society of talkers and writers. I agree. Many things have been written and said about this field. Even I have written about pre-school education for this same publication in past years. So I shall not write more. We all went for lunch, and had a wonderful filling meal. Many friends were made over the table.

After lunch, Mr Sam Edwards, a lecturer from the Teachers' College of Hamilton spoke, along with Mr F. Macpherson, a secondary school teacher from St Stephens.

Sam spoke about the primary school field and Mr Macpherson spoke about the secondary school. There was so much spoken this afternoon, that my head was left spinning. Of course it could be that I was so tired physically, that I wasn't quite

 

 

tinana i te paukinga e te tereina nei — aua hoki! Ka rere ngā patai, ngā kōrero, ka puta ēnei:

(1)	Me huri te āhua kura na kia tika ai tātou ki te kōrero Māori.
(2)	Me mea he māhita whakaako i te reo Māori, ngā tikanga hoki o te Māori, ki roto i ngā kāreti Ako Māhita.
(3)	Hei aha atu a Kupe mā. Hōmai ngā Māori o ēnei rā hei akonga mā mātou.

Ka kī atu au, na, he pukapuka tā Barry Mitcalfe, ko “Nine New Zealanders” te ingoa. ‘Ae, ēngari hei Māori katoa,’ te whakautu mai. Ā, huri atu, huri mai, ka haere mātou ki te inu tī anō. Iāianei kua toru karaka i te ahiahi.

Hoki mai mātou i te hāpāhi i te toru, na, ka kōrero a Hugh Kāwharu. Tetahi wā ki a ia, tētahi ki a Moana Raureti. E hoa mā, ka kōrero a Hugh, wareware ana mātou ki te tāima. Tēnei tangata, nō te Whare Wānanga o Ākarana. Ka pai āna kōrero mō te kaupapa nei — akonga mō ngā tāngata o ngā kāreti mō ngā māhita, ngā whare wānanga, ā, tae noa atu ki ētahi kua mutu noa atu i te kura — ngā mea kua whai tamariki kē, ā. ngā mātua hoki. Tino reka āna kōrero. Mea mai ia, ‘Kaua tātou e wareware ki tō tātou iwi. Me hoki anō tātou ki ngā marae, ki ngā pā, kia kite mai te iwi i a tātou.’ Hei tana, ‘Te mate rā, ka rapu haere tātou i te mātauranga, mahue mai i muri ngā tangata mōna nei te pai, te oranga. Pēnei i a au nei, i a mātou. Na, karanga mai au ki a Moana Raureti kia haere mai kia mōhio ai au e aha ana ngā iwi o te kāinga.’

Ka tū mai a Moana, ki tōna wā hoki. Ka titiro mai, titiro atu hoki ki a Hugh, ka mea ia, ‘Pau katoa i a koe, e hoa, taku tāima, aku kōrero. Moumou taku rā i pau nei i a au hei whakatikatika i aku kōrero mō tēnei wā,’ Ka pangaa e ia ana pukapuka ki te taha, ka āhua waiata mai ia, ‘Kāore he mahi māku.’

Engari hoki i tāna kōrerotanga mai, aue! Mea mai ia, ki tāna nei mahi, na, ‘E rua aku rōpū kei konei a tangi mai ana, “Haere mai, ākona mātou ki te reo Māori, ngā tikanga Māori.” Ēnei rōpū, he Māori, te tari — Waikato. Me pēhea? Kore e taea e au te hakatika tēnei tangi. Mena e taea e

 

 

‘with-it’. Many questions and statements issued forth. Points I managed to gather were:

1.	That education or the school curriculum should be geared to allow the Maori language to be taught.
2.	Lecturers should be employed in teachers' colleges to teach students Maori language and culture.
3.	We should not keep learning only about Kupe and others, but should learn about modern Maoris.

I stated that Barry Mitcalfe had written a book “Nine New Zealanders”. ‘Yes,’ was the reply, ‘but we want one that is all about Maoris.’ And so on the delegates went until we finally went for afternoon tea. It was now 3 p.m.

At 3.30 p.m. we resumed and were addressed by Hugh Kawharu. He and Moana Raureti were to share this period. My friends, when Hugh spoke we all forgot the time. He is from the Auckland University and a wonderful speaker. He spoke on tertiary education. This included people like us at Teachers' Training Colleges, Universities and Adult Education classes. I found myself agreeing with all he said, especially when he said, ‘Don't let us forget our people. We must go back to the marae and to the villages, so that our people can see us.’ He went on, ‘The trouble with us is that the further we go in search of education, the farther we leave behind us our people for whom we are working. Like myself and others in the same position, I have to call on Moana Raureti to come and tell me what my own people are doing.’

Then Moana in turn stood up to talk. He looked at us and at Hugh, then he said, ‘You've taken up all my time and stolen all my thunder. I've wasted a whole day preparing my talk.’ With that he tossed his folder aside and in a singing voice said, ‘There's nothing left for me.’

But, when he started to talk, oh boy! He told of his job (District Welfare Officer) and said, ‘I have two groups of people crying out for someone to teach them the Maori language. These are Maori people, here in the Waikato area. What are we to do? I cannot do it. If University Extension

 

 

ngā Whare Wānanga te haere ki ngā marae, ka pai rawa atu. Mauria ngā kura ki ngā marae. Ka ahatia ētahi whakamā. Ka puta hoki.’

Tēnei tangata, a Moana, he tino tohunga ia ki a au. Nā te tangata mō te tangata. Tēnei kōrero āna, he mea hōmai katoa i te reo Māori.

Ka tae te wā mō te kai o te ahiahi. Ka haupapa hoki te whenua, ēngari i te mahana hoki o te whare kai, o te tini o te kōrero hei tohenga, wareware ana ngā makariri, ngā mamae.

Ka tūtaki au ki a Hōne Ngata, Hannah rāua ko Sid Jackson o Ākarana, me ētahi atu; tata te rua tekau pea rātou i haere mai i Ākarana — haere tonu ana ki roto o te pari o Ngāti Porou ki te kōrero mō te āhua whutupaoro ki Āwhirika a tērā tau.

Na, ka hui mātou i te pō mō tēnei take. Ko Sam Kāretu te Rewherī mō tēnei purei, nā, ka kōrero mātou. Ka ahatia, ehara kē tēnei i te take i huihui ai mātou, ēngari i te mea e pā ana tēnei mea ki a tātou te iwi Māori, ka hui mātou.

Kāhore au ko te mea atu i ngā take i puta i tēnei huinga. Aku kōrero kē e pā ana ki nga tāngata o tā mātou hui. Ētahi o mātou, hore kau kē i mōhio e aha ana te aha. Ētahi, e mea kē ana ka pai te purei i tēnei mea i te whutupaoro. Ētahi i mea kaua rawa e haere, ētahi, me haere tātou kia kite mai ai ngā mangumangu i tā tātou noho pai.

Nā, e hoa mā, kei a koutou anō ō koutou whakaaro. Kei roto i ā tātou pepa ia ra, ia wiki. Ēngari kia tūpato koe. Ina kōrero te māngai, me whakapono te ngākau. Kaua e mea, ‘Me penei,’ nā, ka huri koe, ka pērā kē, nē?

Hore kau anō te Hātarei nei kia pau. Ka haere mātou, hui mai anō i te tekau o ngā hāora i tētahi whare ki te kanikani, ki ngā mahi tākaro hoki. Ka rawe, e hoa. Haere ēnei mahi tae noa ki ngā hāora o te ata tū. Ētahi, pea kīhai i moe.

 

 

could extend into the marae, this would be marvellous. Take the schools out to the marae. Even if some of the people are shy, they will come to learn.’

This man, Moana, to me is a real tohunga. He delivered his whole talk in Maori.

And so it was tea-time. The air was very frosty and cold but still we were warm in the dining room, and had a lot to discuss and argue over.

I met John Ngata, Hannah and Sid Jackson and their crowd of about 20 from Auckland. They were on their way to the Gisborne area to voice their protests against the 1970 South African football tour.

So, we met once more on Saturday night to discuss the question of whether New Zealand should send a Rugby team to South Africa. Sam Karetu was the referee for this game, and so we started. Although this topic was not set down for discussion at the conference, still since it affected all of us Maori people we met to discuss it.

I am not going to report all that was said, and the emotions that were aroused. I will however, talk of the general feelings I observed. Some of us didn't really know what was what, some went on about the ‘sporting’ side of it, some said we definitely should stay here, while others said we must go to show the Africans how well we get on with our Pakeha people.

So, my friends, you each have your own thoughts. This topic is reported in our newspapers almost daily and weekly. However, a word of warning. Whatever you say, you must believe it in your heart of hearts. Don't say one thing and then turn round and do something else, please!

The Saturday activities had not quite finished. We all left the room where we had been cooped up all day only to meet again at 10 p.m. for a social and to let off steam. It was fabulous. The social went on till the early hours, and I'm sure some of us didn't get any sleep.

 

 

karakiatia e ia, nā, hoki haere ana ia ki ētahi atu o ana hipi.

I ngā hāora i mua atu o te tina, ka haere ngā kōrero. I konei au ka kite i a Katarina Mataira, nāna nei ngā pikitia i roto i taku pukapuka, ‘He Putanga Maomao’.

I te hāpāhi i te tekau mā tahi, ka kōrero tētahi Marikana, ko Dale Archer tana ingoa. Āna nei kōrero, mō ngā mangumangu o Āwhirika, mō tana whenua mō Amerika, me konei hoki. Tana mahi he rapu i ngā take e pā ana ki a tātou, te iwi Māori. Kei te pari o Waikato a ia i āianei. Āna nei kōrero, tino nui, āhua mamae ana, āwanga-wanga te ngākau. Me whakapoto e au ki ēnei:

1.	Ko tātou te iwi Māori: kaua tātou e pai kia ‘kōrero-pēpingia’ tātou.
2.	Kaua e piri i muri o te ‘Kākahu Māori.’
3.	Me tohetohe tātou. Ina meinga mai ki a koe ‘Na te mea he Māori koe … E kore e tika i a koe.’ Huri atu, tohungia atu.
4.	Kaua e tukuna mā te Pākehā ō whakaaro e kōrero. Māu anō.

Heoi tēnei. Kāore nā te mea heoi nāna ngā kupu, ēngari nā te mea i te kaha nunui, me mutu au i konei.

Mutu atu i te kai i te waenganui rā, ka hoki anō mātou ki roto i te rūma hui nei.

 

 

form of service and left them to go to others in need of his ministration.

Before lunch, we talked over what had gone before. It was here I saw Katarina Mataira, who had drawn the illustrations for my stories ‘He Putanga Maomao’, one of the ‘Wharekura’ series of Maori Bulletins.

At 11.30 a.m. an American, Dale Archer, spoke on racim, in particular the racial problems of Africa, of his own country, America, and of course those here in New Zealand. He was doing research here in New Zealand, in particular the Waikato area. He made some very forceful statements, at times hitting straight to the heart, and speaking for myself, stirring the conscience.

In short, this is what he said:

1.	We the Maori people must not allow ourselves to be talked down to or categorised.
2.	We must not hide behind the cloak of the race.
3.	We must stop others stereotyping us. For example, we may hear it said, ‘Because he is a Maori he will act thus’. We must turn and show people what we are.
4.	Don't let the Pakeha do your thinking for you. Do it yourself.

This is all I shall report, not because this is all the speaker had to say but because there was so much in his speech that I feel I must stop here.

After lunch at midday, we returned once more to the conference room.

 

 

i pāukingia e mātou i te Hātarei:

(a)	te reo Māori i ngā kura.
(b)	Mā te Kāwanatanga e tiaki ngā ‘kura tākaro’ a ngā tamariki i mua atu i te rima o ngā tau.

3.	Te hui mō ngā tamariki Māori a tērā tau (1970) ki te Pari o te Ardmore Teachers' College.

Kake mai au i runga i taku ‘hōiho - rino’ i Frankton i te pō o te Rātapu i muri atu i te hāpāhi ki te waru, ā, tae mai ki Pōneke nei i te iwa o nga hāora o te Mane, mamae ana, makariri ana, aua atu.

 

conference sessions, namely —

(a)	Maori language in schools, and
(b)	That the Government take over the running of all pre-school education.

3.	The next conference will be held in 1970 at Ardmore Teachers' College.

So, I mounted my ‘iron horse’ once more at Frankton Junction on Sunday night at 8.35 p.m. and arrived back in Wellington at 9 a.m. on Monday morning, physically beaten, frozen and goodness knows what else.

‘He Grandpa,’ they called. ‘You'd better watch your leg tonight. The hook might get your leg Grandpa.’

‘And watch your hand Grandpa, the eel might get your hand.’

‘Bite your hand off Grandpa. You better watch out.’

Did not like their way of talking to their grandfather, it is not our way, but he has patience with the young.

‘You wait,’ he said. ‘You want to know how to get eels then you watch your grandpa.’

They did not keep quiet, the young ones, after that. Called out to him in a way I did not like, but he is patient.

‘Ah Grandpa, that old way of yours is no good. That way is old like you Grandpa.’

‘You might end up in the river with your old way of catching eels.’

‘Toes up Grandpa.’

‘The eel on the bank and Grandpa in the drink, toes up.’

Spoke sharply to them then in our own language.

‘Not for the young to speak in this manner to the old. Not our way to speak like this. It is a new thing you are doing. It is a bad thing you have learned.’

No more talk from these two then, but laughing still and he spoke up for them.

‘They make their torches, the boys, and they make the hooks, and then they go to the hills for hare. They think of the river and the eels in the river, and then they punch each other and roll on the ground. Shout and laugh waiting for the night to come. The funny talk it means nothing.’

‘Enough to shout and fight,’ I said. ‘Enough to roll on the ground and punch each other, but the talk needs to stay in the mouth.’

Put my head down then not pleased, and worked at my task of kneading the bread for morning.

Now I wait and stir the ashes round the oven while the morning bread cooks, and on the ashes I see my tears fall. The babies sleep behind me in the tent, and above me the bird cries.

Much to do after a night of eeling When the drum is full. From the fire we scrape away the dead ashes to put into the drum of eels. All night our eels stay there in the drum of ashes to make easier the task of scraping. Scrape off the ashes and with it comes the sticky eel slime. Cut the eels, and open them out then ready for smoking. The men collect green manuka for our smoke drum. Best wood this to make a good smoke. Good and clean. All day our smoke house goes. Then wrap our smoked eel carefully and pack away before night comes and time for the river again.

But no eels for us this night. No scraping and smoking and packing this time. Tonight our camp comes down and we return. The dim lights come and they bring him back from the river. Slow they bring him.

Now I see two lights come near. The two have come to bring me sad news of him. But before them the bird came, and before the bird the dream — he in the dream with hand on heart.

And now they stand before me, the boys, heads down. By the dim torch light I see the tears on their faces, they do not speak.

‘They bring your Grandpa back,’ I say. ‘Back from the river.’

But they do not speak.

‘Hear the morepork,’ I say to them. ‘It calls from the trees. Out and out it cries. They bring your Grandpa back from the river, I see your tears.’

‘We saw him standing in the river,’ they say. ‘Saw him bend, put his hand round the eel's head and then we saw him fall.’

They stand, the young ones in the dim torch light with tears on the faces, the tears fall.

And now they come to me, kneeling by me weeping.

‘We spoke bad to him,’ they say. ‘They were bad things we said. Now he has fallen and we have said bad things to him.’

So I speak to them to comfort them. ‘He came to me tonight with hand on heart.

“Do not weep,” he said. “It is my time.” Not your words that made him fall. His hand was on his heart. Hear the morepork cry. His time is here.’

And now we weep together, this old lady and these two young ones by her. No weeping he said. But we will weep a little while for him and for ourselves. He was our strength.

We weep and they return. His children and mine return from the river bearing him. Sad they come in the dim light of torches. The young ones help me to my feet, weeping still, and I go towards them as they come.

And in my throat I feel a cry well up. Across the night I hear my cry go out. Lonely it sounds across the night. Lonely it sounds, the cry that comes from in me.

THE AWAKENING

Carolyn climbed up onto the sofa beneath the window and began jumping up and down in rhythm with her chanting. The dust from the sofa rose thickly from beneath her feet.

The early morning sunlight streamed in through the open window of the kitchen forming two huge beams of light, one a little larger and brighter than the other, that slanted down and rested on the floor and part of the wall.

The dust from the sofa and the smoke from the frying fat in the pan on the stove intermingled in the beams, moving and shuffling. They were like little live beings, never still.

Nick sliced his arm through the beam of light, and the particles of dust swirled madly for a second, then gradually settled down again. The boy sliced his arm back through it, watching the things swirl madly again, this time in the opposite direction.

Violet and Louise were lined back against the wall waiting for the beams to settle down. You could not see the dust and smoke in the rest of the room where they were not caught in the light, unless you looked very closely, then when you saw them you began to see more and more and you wondered why you had never seen them before.

‘Now!’ Violet cried, and the two girls shot from the wall and sliced through the light. They seemed a little surprised when they reached the other side. So thick and impenetrable the beams seemed that they looked solid and the children were always surprised to be able to pass through them.

The girls turned and waited till the dust and smoke settled down. They leaned slightly forward from the wall, like race-horses straining at the barrier, ready to plunge back through the light again.

‘Right!’ Violet cried, and the two shot off their marks again and went squealing through the light to the other side of the room.

Nick walked through the shafts of light, slowly, fascinated when the big yellow beams parted to let him through. He stood in the middle of the strongest beam letting it engulf him up to the waist. The light streamed around him swirling and shuffling. And standing there the boy experienced a very real sensation of being in something tangible, like water, although he could not actually feel the light about him.

‘Come on you children,’ their mother called. ‘Sit down while your porridge is hot.’ The room was full of the wonderful aroma of frying eggs and bacon. The children made a few more quick passes through the beams of light then one by one took their places at the table, wading through their porridge, impatient to get at the eggs and bacon that followed.

Afterwards their mother gave Luke the big lunch bag with all their lunches and the children trooped out the door into the glorious morning sunshine, on their way to school.

Nick went with his brothers and sisters as far as the gate. He tried not to think of all that time when they would be gone. He played with the rest as though he were one of them, but when they came to the gate he knew he wasn't. The rest carried on, through the gate and out onto the patch of grass, but he stopped — partly from habit and partly because he feared going any further anyway. For he was not yet of school age.

So the others set off down the roadway, moving slowly further and further away.

The boy stood a long time watching them, his heart sinking. A great loneliness came

into him and he began already to long for the others' return.

‘Goodbye Nicky,’ Violet called, looking back over her shoulder at him.

‘Goodbye Nicky — Goodbye,’ the others took up the call.

‘O half past eight,
We'll be late.
Half past eight —,’ Carolyn chanted.
‘O never mind,
It's ten to nine,
We'll be on time,’ Violet and Arthur chorused in.

And Luke walked on a little ahead of the others, somewhat aloof. Once he called back a farewell to Nick in his deep self-conscious voice.

At the bend in the road the sun was cut off by the row of pine-trees that lined the embankment. Here the children halted, hesitating before they plunged into the thick cold shadows. They pranced up and down slapping their hands under their arm-pits, blowing into their cupped hands and then blowing the tips of their fingers; taking deep breaths and trying to summon up the courage to make that plunge. Then one by one they dived into the shadows and Nick heard their cries as they did so. The children disappeared around the bend in the road but Nick knew that they would reappear later further down, where the road curved back into view, down by the first mill turn-off. He always waited to catch this last glimpse of his brothers and sisters before he turned to go back inside.

‘Half past eight,
We'll be late.
Half past eight —,’ he heard the high-pitched chanting of his brothers and sisters. Then Violet called, ‘Goodbye Nicky. See you this afternoon.’ The girl tasted that last sentence. Then she said it again, ‘See you this afternoon.’ It was what the grown-ups said and it was quite strange and fascinating to say really.

He saw them for a brief minute away down where the road curved back into view, and they were only specks now. But Nick thought he could pick out who they were, especially Luke who towered above the rest. They were straggled out now.

The boy could still hear them, but now there was an added chorus as some of the other children of the settlement called their greetings on their way to school.

Nick heard some voices calling away off to his right, beyond the scrub-covered hill and knew that it was the Yates kids and possibly some of the kids from up at Reid's place. They would often come down through the short cut past the Yates' house if they were running late for school or wanted a change of scenery. Otherwise they came down the road past the boy's house and he would see them, about a dozen of them, picking their way down the hill in their bare feet, over the rutted road-way, with their glowing faces and their cheerful calls.

A dog began to bark on the hill over by the Yates' house and another started up away off past the pine trees over by Mr Taylor's house, the owner of the mill. Nick could barely hear it.

The morning winter sunlight flooded over the earth and brilliantly lit up the scrub-covered hill to the front of the shop. A rooster was crowing away off in the distance, its tone muffled and soft.

Now Nick heard the children no more, but he strained to hear still. Once he heard a faint noise that he thought might be them. But strain as he might he heard nothing.

The dogs continued barking for a while then they too ceased. Now only the noises of the mill could be heard, with now and then occasional sounds of the settlement; the sudden rush of steam from the winch, splitting the air; the heavy hollow metallic sound as the lever was released. A dull thump as an extra heavy log was dropped onto the skids from the trailer of the logging truck, accompanied by a small jolting tremor of the earth. The screaming of the saws; the high-pitched screaming of the ‘bench saw’, whining incessantly in the background like a drone of bees, and the louder lower-pitched spasmodic screaming of the breaking-down saws; a door slamming, or a woman's high-pitched voice calling to a child or a dog and the hollow husky sound of a bulldozer working away off in the bush. Sometimes the noise of the tractor came to the boy clearly as it was brought in on a rise of wind, then when the wind dropped the sound would be cut off and he would hear only that high-pitched con-

stant swishing sound again, like wind caught in the branches of some trees a long way off.

And all the while the frogs kept up their monotonous croaking down at the mill pond, stopping all at once and then beginning again all together, as if at some given signal.

His sister Louise joined him, and the two swung on the gate for a while, until they heard the voices of some children coming from the front of the shop. They rushed around to greet them.

Pine Waka and his sister Agnes and one or two others from up at Reid's place came down the roadway cheerfully calling and waving. Nick decided that they must have split into two gangs this morning, some — the ones Nick heard calling earlier — going down the short cut past the Yates' house.

The children greeted one another and the school-bound children went on their way, treading carefully down the frost-hardened road with their sore bare feet and their chilblains. Nick envied them as they continued on their way to school, for it seemed to him they knew so much more than he, and he ached for the time when it would be his turn and he would be one of those going to school.

Not long after that the school bus came past and Nick and Louise watched the children waving at the windows. Some of them were shouting and pulling faces. They couldn't hear the noise and could see only the children's mouths opening and shutting. The bus roared on down the roadway bumping over the rutted surface. Close on its heels came Tommy and Margaret Brown, the children's cousins, who lived about five miles further up the road, galloping madly on their horses, yahooing, and trying to keep up with the bus. Margaret's hair was flying behind her.

Now with the sun well clear of the pine trees that grew across the road from their house, and picking up intensity, flooding over the yard and orchard, everything began to thaw out after the heavy overnight frost. In the run the hens were wide awake and bustling about making a great racket. A hen was clucking furiously, announcing that she had just laid an egg. Slowly, with somewhat heavy hearts, the children turned to go back into the house.

WINTER

The linoleum was cold when they stood on it, especially in winter, first thing in the morning when they got out of bed or last thing at night when they stood in their bare feet undressing. The bedroom floor was entirely covered with the smooth shiny polished linoleum which made the room so cold and miserable. The children wondered why adults put such a horrible thing on the floor.

Sometimes they had a carpet in their room which their mother put by the bed and it was nice and warm, but it wasn't a very big carpet and they would all try to jam onto it at once to keep their feet off the cold floor. Invariably a struggle would ensue and Nick, being the smallest, would often find himself the one having to stand on the floor. On these occasions there would be much sulking and sometimes even tears, with his sisters giggling and telling him not to be such a sooky bubba.

Sometimes though, they would feel sorry for him and relent and let him have a bit of room on the mat, squeezing up tight together to make room for him. But there were times, depending on how they felt towards him at that particular moment (he might have given them cheek earlier on), when Violet would allow him to put just the tips of his toes on the carpet, just enough to torture him, and make him behave himself in future. Yet there were other times also, when he was wild, that he was able to hold his own with his sisters and especially with Carolyn who would find herself coming out second best in the elbow-jolting and shoving that took place. But he was never able to depose Violet from the mat. She was too strong. Even when he and Carolyn sometimes ganged up on her, they were both liable to find themselves having to undress on the cold floor. But Violet, for all her superior strength was usually fairly

soft-hearted and would let one or other of them come back onto the mat. Usually Carolyn. But there was once or twice when she and Carolyn were enemies, that Nick found himself the favoured one. And was it good being able to pick on someone else for a change instead of being the one always picked on! He made sure he made the best of it. They would usually have Carolyn in tears before they were finished with her, for Carolyn was a cry-baby. This, for some reason or other, only made Violet and Nick worse towards her and they went on teasing her all the more, until their mother came in to see what all the fuss was about. Or else they would both begin to feel sorry for her and make it up by offering her the whole mat to herself.

And yet there were times still when fortunes would swing completely around in a circle: Nick and Violet would one moment be picking on Carolyn and the next minute, for no reason at all it seemed, except that Violet had a sudden whim, the boy would find himself the one being picked on. Violet would suddenly turn on him and encourage Carolyn to help her, until Nick once more found himself the one standing on the cold floor wondering what had happened.

There was one final turn this odd game sometimes took. Violet, feeling in a chivalrous mood, would herself hop off the mat and let Nick and Carolyn share it between them and no entreaties from her brother and sister could get her to come back onto the mat while she stood undressing on the cold floor, shivering and making distressed noises.

CHILDREN

The children sat on the hill above the house by the reservoir and made daisy-chains. Sometimes they flicked the heads of the papa grass at one another or picked different weeds and examined them, turning them over and over and wondering at them in amazement, as adults might wonder at the structure of some tall grand building.

Carolyn broke off a buttercup head and said, ‘Keep still Vi.’ And she held the yellow flower under Violet's chin, and with a pretended cry of delight said, ‘Ooooohh! Vi likes butter.’

‘Do I? Do I?’ cried Violet.

‘Yes, look you fullas,’ Carolyn said. ‘See it's yellow under Violet's chin.’ And it was too, where the flower reflected on the girl's skin.

‘See if I like butter,’ Nick asked. ‘Go on Caroleen.’ The girl held the flower under her brother's chin. There was a long pause as the girl studied the under-side of his chin, pushing the flower in closer to make out that it wasn't reflecting very clearly.

‘Do I?’ the boy asked, full of expectancy.

‘Yes. But only a little bit,’ the girl said.

The boy felt a little disappointed but at least it was better than not liking butter at all.

‘What about me,’ Louise said, shifting down closer to the group. ‘Do I like butter too?’ They all wished to have the yellow reflect on the under-side of their chins as it was good to know you liked butter.

Carolyn hesitated, deciding whether or not to let Louise play their game, and waiting to see what the others' reactions were, for they tried to leave their youngest sister out of as many of their games as possible, if only to revenge themselves a little on her. For they felt she got more than her fair share of attention from their parents, and especially from their father, whose pet she was. And what's more it had made her spoilt and selfish with it.

‘Shall I?’ Carolyn asked of the others.

‘Yes,’ Nick and Violet replied, for they felt the thrill of the game was too much fun to let a little thing like Louise getting petted sometimes, spoil it.

So Carolyn held the flower under Louise's chin and although it reflected strongly, for she was a little fairer-skinned than the others and had a smooth round chin, Carolyn said, ‘No. Louise doesn't like butter. Look she doesn't, does she!' And she leaned away from the others to let them see.

And although the others could see the yellow of the buttercup reflecting strongly

on her skin they both said, ‘No, you don't like butter Louise.’

‘Na Tito.’ Louise retorted, startled and stung at once and then becoming annoyed. She tried to focus her eyes down her face to see for herself. And just in case she would, Carolyn snatched the flower away quickly.

‘Ooooh, Louise doesn't like butter,’ her sisters and brother teased.

‘I do. I do so!’ Louise snapped back.

‘No you don't, there's no yellow under your chin.’

‘You're only telling titos,’ she accused, but she wasn't sure and hestitated awhile, considering.

‘No we're not,’ Violet said. ‘Go on Caroleen, hold the buttercup under Louise's chin again.’

Carolyn did so and they all chimed in with glee that their sister didn't like butter because there was no reflection there. In a rage Louise snatched the flower from Carolyn's hand and crushed it. Then she snatched out at Nick's daisy chain and broke it in half. But before she could get at Violet's the girl snatched it away. Nick flew at his sister and slapped her heavily on the leg. Louise began immediately to cry. The others knew they were in for it now, Louise flew at Nick and tried to scratch his face. There was a brief struggle in which Louise came off the worst. Knowing she'd have no success using these tactics the girl stood up and ran off down the hill. She would get her revenge some other, more subtle way. Halfway down the path she stopped and said, ‘You wait now, you fullas. You wait till I tell Mummy and Daddy.’

‘Tell-tale-tit,’ the others chided.

‘You wait,’ the little girl said. She could have immediately gone and told on them, but she wanted to see them squirm a little first. She had stopped crying surprisingly quickly and was all cheek and aggression now. She knew she was a safe distance from the others and would easily reach the house and their parents before they caught her. The others knew she was up to her old tricks again. For she was able to turn her tears on and off like a tap, whenever it suited her.

‘I don't care if you do anyway,’ Nick called back. At that Louise turned and made off down the hill again. And as easily as she had turned her tears off she turned them on again, wailing loud and long in a way the children had come to associate with her and often teased her about, sometimes imitating her to her face.

This time, feeling particularly peeved with his sister's carrying-on, Nick stood up and imitated her at the top of his voice, throwing out his chest and giving vent to the whole injustice of the thing, for their parents always took Louise's side no matter who was in the wrong. Or if they didn't, she still got a lot of sympathy and petting. And taking up a clod of dirt he flung it after the girl. Fortunately it missed and hit the fence behind her, otherwise they would have had no chance of getting out of it. As it was now, if the three of them stuck together they might be able to cry Louise down.

Under his sisters' sobering look Nick quickly quietened down. His sisters felt there was no need to make things any worse than they already were.

Two more ‘Fragments’ will appear in our next issue.

Kuia's Lament

The city closes round me.
Though the moon is high
I hear no morepork cry.
There is no quiet bay
where I can gather pipis
to cook upon the sands
with driftwood….
The pavement is hard,
My feet long
for the soft earth tracks
of the bushland.
The city is noisy
Bright lights dim the stars.
A far away village calls,
‘Hoki, hoki,’

Marie Andersen

North-South Match

The annual rugby match between Northern and Southern Maoris for the Prince of Wales Cup resulted in a 17-all draw, which retained the cup for the Northern Maoris. Following the match the cup was presented to the Northern captain, Sid Going (left) of North Auckland, who received the congratulations of the Southern captain, George Mahupuku (right), of Wairarapa. Listening to the conversation is Mr George Marsden, Maori Rugby Advisory Board member for Poverty Bay and the East Coast. Among the two teams were seven former pupils of Mr Marsden, who has taught at Te Aute College, St Stephen's School, and is now on the staff of Gisborne Boys' High School

Apprentice Carver

Pictured with his mother and little sister is Korako Arahanga of Ngai Tahu, one of the apprentice carvers at the Rotorua Arts and Crafts Carving School.

Displays at Gisborne

During the week of the Maori Women's Welfare League Conference at Gisborne, local residents had the opportunity to see the work being done by carpentry apprentices from Wellington, under the guidance of Mr Stan Hunt, and of the carving apprentices from Rotorua, taught by master carver, Mr John Taipa. Here Mrs Esme Tombleson, M.P. for Gisborne, and Miss Jo Dawson, in charge of the girls' pre-employment course at Wellington, are pictured with Mr John Taiapa, Korako Arahanga of Ngai Tahu, and Junior Honotopu of Ngati Porou.

Soldiers in Fiji

Pickled pork and puha, yes, but home-smoked Fijian fish, well! … the picture shows Bombardier Martin Maioha (left), Corporal Joe Hoani and Private Ces Toa, all of Kaikohe, about to divide up a quantity of fish. It had been prepared in a smoke house which was built by New Zealand soldiers.

The soldiers were in Fiji on exercise ‘Tropic Dawn 16’, which is a series of exercises run by the New Zealand Army in Fiji. This particular exercise was for students on the ‘All Arms Instructors’ course at Waiouru, and was designed to teach soldiers the art of jungle survival and the techniques of jungle warfare.

On arrival at the jungle base, the soldiers were quickly despatched on a 72-hour introduction to jungle survival with little more than a box of matches and a cigarette a day. As was expected they were quick to

take advantage of the wild fruits and vegetables which were abundant in the area

Watermanship is an important aspect of jungle training. A soldier is expected to master the skills which reduce the crossing of any reasonable stretch of water to a mere drill. With only their standard equipment, they learnt how to make waterproof parcels strong enough to support them while they swam across. Initially there were a few leaks, but after a few practice packs, all the problems were solved.

Local food also proved popular with the New Zealanders. In addition to wild fruits and vegetables, they learnt the art of smoking Fijian fish. Enough for 38 men was prepared in a smoke house built by the students, and to prove the point, it was later taken with them as rations on a 24-hour navigation march through the jungle. In a climate such as this, all meats and fish must be either smoked or salted, as the hot weather quickly turns them rotten.

Language Teachers' Course

Coinciding with the Coronation hui at Ngaruawahia, was a seminar for teachers of the Maori language, held at the nearby Ngaruawahia High School. Teachers from all over the country met to discuss problems, evaluate their methods and make suggestions for the future. It was regarded as well worth while by all who attended. Our picture was taken when the teachers broke up into groups for discussion on ways to improve the teaching of Maori.

Art Contest

The Tairawhiti Regional Committee of the M.W.W.L., who organised the conference at Gisborne certainly had some new ideas! One that stimulated a lot of interest by secondary school pupils was an art contest. The competition was for a design that could be used to decorate the cover of the conference folder, sold to delegates to hold their papers.

The winner was a Pakeha boy, who had used a Maori motif. The two runners-up, one a Maori boy, used designs of European origin. The three boys, Colin Brooks. Richard Calcott and Paul Whaanga, are pictured with their designs. They were given prizes by the local organising committee.

Korimako Contest

Once again, it proved very gratifying to see the high standard of speech-making by Maori students, in the Annual Korimako

Trophy contest. District finalists were this year given a week to prepare their five-minute speeches on the topic, ‘The contribution the Maori has made in recent times to the Arts, including music, drama, poetry and painting’. As well, each contestant was given a choice of subject for a three-minute speech, prepared in half an hour.

It is proving almost traditional for a girl to win the trophy, and the winner was Peata Munro of Hastings Girls' High School, seen holding the trophy, with, at left, Philip Munro of St Peter's Maori College, Auckland, third, and at right, the second place-getter, Marama Reweti of Tauranga Girls' College.

Farewell to the Henning Family

The new Minister of Maori Affairs, the Hon. Duncan MacIntyre, made his first ‘marae’ speech when he joined in the farewell to the United States Ambassador, Mr John Henning and his family, at Ngati Poneke Hall. Other speakers were Mr Bill Nathan, Mr Fred Katene, Sir Francis Kitts, Mayor of Wellington, Dr Pei Jones, and Mr Matiu Rata, M.P. for Northern Maori. Gifts were presented to Mr and Mrs Henning — a patu and a taniko bag.

Taniko Expert

The Parewahawaha Branch of the M.W.W.L. is very proud of Mrs Polly Richardson, winner of the Jean Walmsley Cup for taniko work. She is a remarkable young woman, mother of four, and a great help in schools and various other organisations, teaching Maori action songs to children and adults. She speaks Maori fluently, and often composes lyrics to suit special occasions.

Mrs Anau Pare Richardson is the daughter of Mr and Mrs Renata Ruha, formerly of Waihau Bay, Whanau Apanui and now living at Kaingaroa, and is married to Peter Fraser Richardson, whose parents Mina and the late Peter Te Aikiha Richardson are well known in the Ohakea-Bulls area.

Mataura Club

An almost meteoric rise to success is the story of the Mataura Maori Club which won both the senior and the junior sections at the South Island Maori Cultural Competitions. A great deal of hard work lay behind their success, the senior team practising at least twice a week, and the juniors practising almost daily, with the co-operation of the Mataura School staff and headmaster, Mr J. F. Egan.

story and pictures by Patricia and Colin Ward

Technical Institutes and Full-time Students

by Noel Harrison

University of Auckland

In this short article I review briefly the research which has been undertaken to date on Maori chant and indicate the areas which require either new research or further investigation. Such a review is justified by the fact that Maori chant is becoming popular not only with the general public of New Zealand but also as a subject of study among scholars.

Now that there are three published volumes of Nga Moteatea¹ the range of data available for the study of Maori chant is greatly increased. The term ‘Maori chant’ is used here in the same way that McLean² defined it, that is, it refers to the traditional music of the Maori. Furthermore, it refers to both the musical and linguistic aspects of chants. The 271 song texts published in the three volumes, together with texts in other collections, such as in Grey³ and in McGregor⁴, provide a total corpus of many hundreds of songs. By some accounts, it is doubtful that the published texts at present available are, by any means, representative of the total corpus. McLean has compiled an index of about 4,000 texts from published sources and Simmons has indexed at least 2,000 titles from manuscript sources. Allowing for duplications, McLean, estimates that there must be at least 5,000 texts in the literature and in tape-recorded collections⁵ Of these, only a handful are published in Nga Moteatea. However, the relatively low number of chants in Nga Moteatea is balanced by the high content of explanatory material associated with each song and are further enhanced by the fact that the texts are translated. Thanks to the industry and foresight of Sir Apirana Ngata modern scholars have the kind of data which they can use immediately for testing hypotheses and for gaining a richer understanding of the motivations, purposes, conventions and satisfactions connected with Maori chant as a cultural activity.

Maori chant may be studied from a number of different standpoints. For example, a musicologist may study the musical aspect, a linguist the linguistic aspect, a psychologist the psychological aspect, and an anthropologist the cultural aspect. Alternatively, different aspects may be studied by the same investigator, for example, an othno-musicologist studies both the musicological and cultural aspects of Maori chant. However, whatever the central interest of the investigator might be, the cultural aspect will impinge upon it, because, in the final analysis, the activities of composing and performing chants are expressions of cultural behaviour in a specific social, spatial and temporal context. Thus, a study of Maori chant from any particular viewpoint is bound to yield information of anthropological interest.

Detailed studies of Maori chant have barely begun. Maunsell⁶ was the first and only student of Maori chant to take an

interest in the linguistic aspect. Though his treatment of the subject was cursory he did write sufficient to indicate that an acceptable grammar for the use of language in musical contexts was different from the acceptable grammar of speech. Moreover, because so many archaisms are imbedded in the texts of Maori chant the lexicon tends to be slightly different from that used in spoken language. Many words appear only in Maori chant and nowhere else. All this goes to show that language is subject to certain rules of lexical selection and grammatical arrangement according to the ethnographic situation in which it is used. The study of the language used in Maori chant is still awaiting the attention of some scholar.

With the recent work of Dr Mervyn McLean⁷ the musical aspect of Maori chant is beginning to receive due consideration. He has written a doctoral thesis on Maori chant from the standpoint of an ethno-musicologist and he has published numerous articles on his work. The articles he published in Te Ao Hou have helped to gain popular support for the work of the scholar. McLean⁸ has distributed copies of his tape collection to tribal authorities together with typed copies of the song texts. Some of this material is already being used in ‘waiata schools’ so that McLean has made a contribution towards the maintenance and continuity of traditional Maori chant. Gaining the support and sympathy of the people is necessary since there are signs that the New Zealand Maori is beginning to develop a resistance towards field workers⁹.

More has been written on the cultural aspect of Maori chant but much of the work cannot be considered as constituting an adequate study of the subject. The early essays by Colenso¹⁰ and Best¹¹ are merely exploratory but they indicate some of the sociological and cultural facts which are worth further investigation. Andersen's monograph, entitled Maori Music with its Polynesian Background, published in 1934, is an attempt to place Maori chant and music in the wider context of Polynesia as a whole, but the book is valuable mainly as a collection of excerpts from other sources. A historical survey of Maori music was written in 1929 and submitted as a MA thesis, at the University of Auckland. This work comprises mainly a collection of material published by Best and others and introduces little new and original research. It is, therefore, rarely consulted by more recent students of Maori chant. More recently, Dr T. Barrow¹² has published a popular book which deals not only with Maori chant but also with modern Maori music.

Barrow's book points up the fact that the study of modern Maori music is also a neglected field. A reason for this neglect is the fact that scholars have held a certain contempt for the subject and they held the mistaken belief that there was nothing culturally significant in modern Maori music. The attitudes of earlier writers are exemplified in the title of Eric Ramsden's 1949 essay which goes as follows: ‘Modern Maoris and their music: Neglect of cultural sources of musical inspiration: cheap and tawdry borrowed tunes’. A popular book on the subject of action songs was written by Armstrong and Ngata and the emphasis here is on how-to-do-it. In some of the articles in Te Ao Hou there is evidence of an almost pathological interest in how-to-do-it properly, that is, in the technical aspects of action song performance. One writer goes so far as to chastise Maori groups for not practising Carnegie Hall techniques in their performances of Maori action songs¹³. Despite these articles, no serious

study has yet been undertaken, of the significance of action songs and posture dances in present day Maori society¹⁴.

So far as is known to the present writer, no psychological study of Maori chant has ever been undertaken. The sociological and aesthetic dimensions of Maori chant are also virtually untouched fields of study. However, although Maori chant has been neglected in the past, present indications show that this is changing. Articles published in Te Ao Hou and in the Journal of the Polynesian Society¹⁵ attest to an increased interest in Maori chant. The publication of the Nga Moteatea series by the Polynesian Society has contributed to the upsurge because now there are more data available for study. Coincident with the increase in scholarly interest of Maori chant is a corresponding upsurge in popular interest. Maori chant is becoming fashionable as a part of New Zealand culture and it is acquiring a new respectability. The New Zealand Broadcasting Corporation which has one of the best archives of Maori music in the country, broadcasts several weekly programmes of Maori music and they employ one of the most successful modern exponents of Maori action songs¹⁶ to help with these programmes. This is one line of evidence for the popularity of Maori music. Another is the fact that the first two volumes of Nga Moteatea, which deal wholly with Maori chant, have sold out. University student numbers have not been large enough to account for the sale of all copies; thus, it must be assumed that the general public is responsible in part.

On the other hand, Maori chant has always been popular amongst the older members of Maori society. It has continued to be a vital part of Maori ceremonial life. Maori chants can be heard in proper context at numerous gatherings all over the country, for example, at tribal gatherings, during opening ceremonials for meeting houses and during mourning ceremonies (tangihanga). Though the full range of traditional chants has been reduced and though the occasions for its use are more restricted than previously, the fact remains that the Maori chant of today is a continuation of an ancient traditional which was brought to New Zealand by the original East Polynesian inhabitants of the country. The remarkable persistence of Maori chant through the centuries, suggests that this kind of music has some deep cultural significance for the New Zealand Maori. An objective of future studies is to discover what this significance is.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Anderson, Johannes, C., 1934: Maori music with its Polynesian Background. New Plymouth, Polynesian Society.

Armstrong, Alan, 1962: ‘Maoritanga in the Mire?’ Te Ao Hou 40: 23–24.

Armstrong, Alan & Rupena Ngata, 1960: Maori Action Songs. Wellington, A. H. & A. W. Reed.

Barrow, T., 1965: Traditional and Modern Music of the Maori. Wellington, Seven Seas Publishing Pty. Ltd.

Best, Elsdon, 1925: Games and Pastimes of the Maori. (Dominion Museum Bulletin, No. 8). Wellington, Whitcombe and Tombs.

Colenso, W., 1880: ‘Contributions toward a better knowledge of the Maori Race’. Transactions of the New Zealand Institute 13: 57–84.

Dodge, Ernest & Edwin T. Brewster, 1945: ‘The Acoustics of three Maori Flutes’. Journal of the Polynesian Society 54: 39–61.

Grey, Sir George, 1853: Ko Nga Moteatea me nga Hakirara o Nga Maori. Wellington, Robert Stokes — 1857. Ko Nga Waiata Maori. London, George Willis.

Hill, A. Mihi, 1964: ‘Some thoughts on the future of the Maori chant’. Te Ao Hou 48: 38–40.

Jones, Pei Te Hurinui, 1959: ‘Puhiwahine, Maori Poetess’. Te Ao Hou 28: 11–15, 29: 17–21.

Martin, Mary, 1961: ‘Primitive Music in New Zealand’. Te Ao Hou 36: 22–24.

McGregor, John, 1893: Popular Maori Songs as written by the Maoris of Wai-kato. Auckland, Field.

McLean, Mervyn Evan, 1961: ‘Oral Transmission in Maori Music’. Journal of International Folk Music 13: 59–62.

McLean, Mervyn Evan, 1964a: ‘Can Maori Chant Survive?’ Te Ao Hou 47: 34–36.

McLean, Mervyn Evan, 1964b: ‘The Music of Maori Chant’. Te Ao Hou 47: 36–39.

McLean, Mervyn Evan, 1964c: ‘A Preliminary Analysis of 87 Maori Chants’. Ethnomusicology 8, I: 41–48.

McLean, Mervyn Evan, 1965: Maori Chant: A study of Ethnomusicology. Unpublished Ph.D. Thesis, University of Otago.

McLean, Mervyn Evan, 1968: ‘An investigation of the open tube Maori flute or koauau’. Journal of the Polynesian Society, 77: 3: 213–241.

McLean, Mervyn Evan, 1969: ‘Song Types of the New Zealand Maori’. Studies in Music 3. University of Western Australia Press.

Phillips, Irene M. C., 1929: Maori Music: A Historical Survey. Unpublished Thesis, University of Auckland.

Ramsden, Eric, 1949: ‘Modern Maoris and their Music: Neglect of cultural sources of musical inspiration; cheap and tawdry borrowed tunes’. New Zealand Magazine 28: 2: 17–19.

… How Much is just ‘Good Luck’?

by Christopher Lethbridge, B.A., L.Th.

It is very easy for New Zealanders to get a little smug on the subject of their race relationships; especially the Pakeha! Every now and again some visitor from overseas gets reported in our newspapers making favourable comments. For instance, Billy Graham, on his recent tour, congratulated this country on its achievement in this field. Coming, as most of these people do, from places where racial violence has often reached fever pitch, our local scene probably looks almost too good to be true … but just how much credit, if any, do we really deserve? How much is just luck? How much is really a legacy from the past? And how much is primarily due to the Maori people themselves? Let us have a look at some of the main historical factors involved.

In the first place, the Maori race has had the ‘good luck’ … or whatever you like to call it … to be of the same basic Caucasian European stock as the Pakeha. A little ‘coloured’ blood got mixed in along the way; but by and large the Maori is not very different. In fact, many are not even dark enough to be recognised as such, once their behaviour patterns have become thoroughly westernised.

Probably the most important piece of ‘good luck’ has been the fact of small numbers. At their lowest economic and social ebb in the 1880s, the Maori people numbered only about 42,000. This had at least two very far reaching results. When men like Pomare and Buck began their great campaign for social improvement in the 1890s, their task was, geographically speaking, a manageable one. Similarly, in the 1930s, when social security was first intro-

duced, small numbers again made it effective for the Maori as well as the Pakeha. This was no small achievement, as any Nixonian administrator of America's ‘Medicare’ would quickly admit. This same factor has applied to every reforming movement before or since. Now there are 200,000 and the hardest work may well be over.

The second main factor in this racial situation is the great legacy we have received from the past. Whatever our personal opinions might be about Christian Missions, the first fifty years of the last century was dominated by their influence. By 1850 virtually all Maoris were Christians, and according to British Military Reports, often far better ones than their teachers. The same influence was behind the Treaty of Wai-tangi, which, despite all its limitations and abuses, at least provided a framework to restrain Pakeha greed and redress grievances. Coupled with the fact that Maori Christians were often acting from higher motives, the long-term effect of the Treaty and the Maori Wars, was to leave some Pakehas with a good healthy residue of genuine guilt. This has often been reflected in Parlimentary legislation; particularly in the Royal Commission of 1926. The inspiration, however, for these actions has come from the past … from the example of Christian missionaries and Christian Maoris.

Finally, there is the Maori himself. There is in this people an essential quality that is hard to define. It is basically spiritual. Some might argue it is natural intelligence; but there is no evidence to show he has any more of that than … say … the American negro. Others will emphasise the factors of ‘good luck’ and ethnic background; that small numbers and geography enable them to learn their lessons more quickly. Yet surely, the greatest effort must have come from their own inner resources … just as it does with everyone else who makes a little progress in good living. Here again, it may have been their early conversion to Christianity. Out of the disillusion that followed the tragedy of the Maori Wars, there rose up a number of religious movements … most notably the King Movement, Ringatu, and later, Ratana. Although many people would perhaps dispute the claim, these movements were basically Christian … but with a fundmental Maori twist. At the same time, through the influence of several Maori schools, notably Te Aute, there grew up what come to be known as the ‘Young Maori’ movement. These two streams, one flowing among the best educated, the other among the rank and file, restored to the Maori his lost soul. Slowly, painstakingly, he has regained an identity … something to be proud of and on which he could build. It is no accident that so-called ‘Maori Culture’ so beloved of concert groups, is nearly all a post nineteenth century phenomenon.

This is precisely where the American negro has failed to a large degree. Among them, religion became an escape method. Here it brought dynamic leadership and social action. There, the negro's inner resources are often wasted in searching for ‘Soul Brothers’ or in ‘African Studies’. Here, the Maori has been able to move into the cities on the tide of Urban Drift, and, to some extent at least, take on the Pakeha at his own game … earning a living and raising a family.

Some good luck on the part of Providence. Some goodwill from men of the past … and the Maori himself … and most of the factors involved in the relative harmony of our race relations have been accounted for. If this generation is going to deserve any of the credit, it will depend on how they handle the completely new situation now unfolding in our cities. There again more will probably depend on the Maori's own efforts than anything the Pakeha might do … and again the Maori will deserve the credit!

‘A Testament to Co-operation’

‘From the trees planted here will rise Lake Taupo Forest, unique because it is the first fully-planned and amenity forest, and a remarkable testament to co-operation between the Forest Service and Ngati Tuwharetoa,’ said the Minister of Lands, Mr Duncan MacIntyre, at a meeting of the tribe at Korohe Pa at the ceremonial opening of the forest.

The forest is to be established on 70,000 acres of East Taupo land which has been leased from the tribal owners by the crown.

‘The lease is a partnership,’ said Mr MacIntyre. ‘On the one hand is the Forest Service, which provides the expertise and the finance. On the other are the Maori owners, on whose land the forest is being planted. By their co-operation a forest will be established which will enhance the beauty of the lake, provide revenue for the forest owners and private employment for the district.

‘In this forest, productivity, profitability and the beauty of the landscape are being deliberately planned. Some 4,500 acres are to be planted in decorative species. Douglas fir and larch will be used for most of the amenity planting, but where recreational use is likely to be high, groups of deciduous and evergreen broadleaf trees such as oaks, ash, poplar and eucalyptus will be used.

‘Behind this attractive front will lie the heart of the forest, more than 60,000 acres of radiata pine and Douglas fir — the most prolific and profitable exotics grown in New Zealand. This year, planting will be about 1,000 acres. Then the rate will rise to about 4,000 acres a year until the forest is fully established in 1985.’

Mr A. L. Poole, Director-General of Forests, gave an address giving details of the development, management, and the terms of the lease. He described the planting, ground preparation, pruning, and the building of roads and grassed fire breaks — these to be used for the grazing of sheep, another unusual feature.

He said that during the period of the lease full encouragement would be given to young lads to go through the various training courses run by the Forest Service, and the trustees had already discussed setting money aside for a scholarship.

At first the planting would be done from Kaingaroa, but he envisaged the establishment of a nursery and administrative head-quarters in the Turangi district — a move that would create work and provide more employment in the district.

times. The curious part is that although we both remember sore shins, we cannot recall hurt feelings. The girls envied the boys when a new teacher came and taught them proper rugby, just as the Whites envied the Maoris come muttonbirding time. But we could hardly separate our whaling forebears from their Maori wives! We had a rhyme, ‘sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me’, and we grew up used to taking knocks. That's another thing that seems to be dying out.

Up north, where I now live, people are always going on about prejudice, discrimination, problems and so on — one European elder, a professor of psychology, has even said publicly that our biggest problem is that we don't now what a big problem we have. A southerner would not call that good psychology. He would remember the story of the hard-case old Bluff fellow (I don't know how many parts Maori, and it doesn't matter) whose lawyer made such a job of the case (I don't know what he was convicted for, either) that he got off. Later he was found sitting comfortably on the kerb, tears pouring down — he hadn't known what a poor old man he was till he heard that Pakeha fellow defending him. I don't think Mr Justice Tompkins would have taken that line.

The kind of prejudice that scares me stiff is the kind practised by well-meaning Europeans — not those who square up to the fact that the Maori crime rate is higher than the European, but those who sound as if we should start up a new brand of Hauhauism to help matters. There is also a sort of do-gooding crusade that reminds me of people who bring me nourishing soup when I'm home with a sniffly cold — don't they think I can cook? Anyhow, I'd sooner have an orange! — the people who think friendship is a thing to be forced, instead of a thing that grows naturally between people who have the same interests, or even different ones, or who just happen to like one another without going into whys and wherefores or waiting to be told by experts that it's the right thing to do.

Sheila Natusch

A Young Maori Warrior

A young warrior designed to kill a nation,
He sits against a tree, the emblem of life
Green, growing silent upon this land.
He suddenly turns, he hears
The tread of strong brown feet,
‘The power of the haka.’

He sees row upon row of his people
Slowly fall with grief, a twisted look of pain.
A shout of agony — he falls.
Panic is cold, he looks up
A vision of Te Ruru, death is near,
A death of glorious beauty.

The battle has ended,
There is the piercing wail of the wahine,
Black, dark, everlasting and feelingless.
To a younger warrior who lives —
Be proud of your race, your culture,
And your heritage.
Young warrior, live in glory and
A life filled with goodness in a land of peace.

Now another poem from Isabelle Terehia Te Wake, Form V, Panguru High School.

His Grave

Spade
Dig your sharpened edge into the flesh of the soil
let it turn over the soft turf and
fling it high upon mounting mud.
Let water find its way through
the disturbed earth
and wash you to cleanliness
as you go about your sad task —
a mission you must not fail.
Bury my friend deep and good
within the damp soil;
Place the soft earth gently upon his wooden coffin
for I fear to hear the thud
of heavy mud
thrown upon his casket —
afraid it may burst open
disturbing him.
Let him lie in peace —
do not fail.

Soon I know he will no longer
hear my cries
for you have done your task well
You have done your mission.

Marilyn McPherson, a 6th-Form pupil of Papatoetoe High School gave this speech during the contest held during the Polynesian Student Conference held at Otara College in July.

What I Want for Myself and My
Community

Tena Koutou Katoa.

I te tuatahi, me mihi au ki nga aitua. Haere nga mate, haere, haere nga mate o ia marae, o ia marae, o nga motu o te Moana-Nui-A-Kiwa hoki. Haere ki tua o te arai. Haere ki Te Reinga ki te okiokinga. Haere Haere Haere.

Tena koutou a huihui mai nei ki tenei o a tatou marae.

E nga tiatia, tena koutou.

My theme will be the understanding and tolerance of multi-racial peoples needed for a more integrated society.

It is my hope, in fact I am confident, that within the next two or three generations the present gap between the attainment of Maoris and non-Maoris will be smaller than it is today. There seems to be a greater awareness today than ever before (and this awareness is very recent) concerning Maoris and their education. The experts maintain that a fully planned programme must be

undertaken to avoid educating minority groups into second class citizens. The awareness is there, too, among the Maori parents who are keen to see their children go to secondary schools. What is lacking among them is that they do not fully understand the intricacies and demands of our post-primary system.

Many Maori pupils are unable to receive much help from their parents by the time they reach the fifth or sixth form because they are usually more highly educated than their parents. Also at secondary school despite the large amount of individual attention and help the Maori pupils receive when they get home, usually to a large family and parents who work, they have very little privacy for study and homework. It is hard to concentrate in these conditions but we must never give up because education is most important in our modern world — we are not only learning for self-benefit but also to help the rest of our people. The present generation of Maori students will became better parents and so the process will build up in this way, each generation an improvement on the previous one.

Education is also the basis of improved race relations. Never before in New Zealand's history has the impetus of the Maori been as shattering as today. The Maoris are moving to the cities and especially to the city of Auckland. In fact, at the last census of April, 1966, over half the Maori population was urban — 52% urban and some 48% rural. This is progress when we consider that five years earlier the figures were 33 ⅓% urban and 66 2/3% rural. This rapid urbanization will never reverse, and I predict that it will grow faster. What is the consequence of this? For the first time in our history we have the situation of Europeans coming into direct and real contact with Maoris. Though there has been some contact over the past 100 years or so, this contact has been fairly superficial — on the surface only. Today we have real contact. For the first time we have large numbers of Maoris living in the same street as non-Maoris, unlike the days when Maoris lived in the country and were further apart. Here is the testing ground for race relations, here is where a great deal of understanding between the peoples is required — and it is my belief that our future as a nation living harmoniously depends on our tolerance of each other. It is my hope that such an understanding will eventuate, but it will require concerted effort by all and not by one segment of the people. We Polynesians want it, the Europeans must want it; in fact for our own good, everyone must want it.

Rapid urbanization has consequent problems — so many of these problems are not typically Maori — in fact they are mainly un-Maori and are a consequence of several factors, among which are socio-economic changes, over-crowding, large families and a lack of understanding of the needs of a modern urban community. But we are improving, and if the improvement continues as it has over the last ten years or so, I can see that the Maori urban dweller will quickly forget much of the life he once took' for granted in the countryside.

I feel that many Maori children take on too much. Numerous Maori culture groups have sprung up in and around Auckland, for instance. The more senior children haven't got time for these activites. Take, for instance, a person who is a prefect at school, who may be playing in a school sports team requiring two practices a week, and who has two or more hours of homework a night. Only a very limited time is available for such cultural activities, though this is not the case in boarding establishments where after-hour activites seem to be better organized. It is my aim this year to get University Entrance and most of my time apart from playing hockey, carrying out my prefect's duties and swimming in summer, will be given over to this. If I achieve this I will go for a bursary and then probably go on to University, and after that … well I'll most likely follow in my dear old dad's footsteps and be a teacher.

However, there must be a need for these culture groups, otherwise we wouldn't have them. The problem is where do we find the time for them? I believe we young folk must work hard at our school-work to get the qualifications needed to be a success and then concentrate on our cultural activities. But successful Maoris need to put some effort into their Maori side, not gain their qualifications and then sit back and gloat once they have achieved their ambition. Successful Maoris are often very busy, work-

ing for the usual European institutions and the Maori ones, hopping from one to the other.

Success breeds leadership. You can't pick a person and train him to be a head — he might have no leadership qualities — in fact might not want to be a leader.

Every day we are becoming a more integrated community. This integration is probably most noticeable in the high rate of intermarriage which is occurring at present. Here is good groundwork for further understanding — I welcome my Pacific Island friends and relations. We have here in Auckland the largest Pacific Island population and we must accept this. Some critics have stated that you should not be allowed here for various reasons, but it's your right to come here — we have a common heritage and here again a great deal of understanding is needed. Few groups don't want to be accepted.

I do think my future and your future and the future of the country rests on greater understanding and tolerance for those less fortunate than ourselves.

Ka mutu au i konei. Engari e hari ana au, no te mea kua tutaki au ki a koutou, me te whakaaro kia haere kaha tenei tu mahi. Tena ano koutou katoa.

And finally, a description by Rapi Tane, Northland College.

Wedding on the Marae

Standing in pairs, the happy youngsters send audible sounds of laughter and chattering to echo through gaping windows and laughing door-ways. The old kaumatuas sit on forms surrounding the marae, sending trails of blue smoke from scorching pipes. The grinning doorways, decorated with flowers and leaves, send sounds of silence amongst the cheerful guests. The rows of tables are decorated with veils of gleaming cloths, upon this being stacked food from the ‘hangi’, characteristic of the Maori and food from the ‘store’ characteristic of the Pakeha. The foods mix together showing the world that even though we have racial problems, racial foods are colour-blind and combine together as one body. Dinner prepared and everyone resting in seats surrounding the minister, the wedding ceremony sends its joy into the hearts of the bride and bridegroom, the beginning of a life of misery for the groom and superiority for the bride.

Hair combed for once in his life, shoes polished and suit pressed, ugly face and twitching eyebrows is the simple appearance of the groom, while his wife-to-be, perched on high-heeled shoes, covered by white lace and plastered with perfume, receives her membership as a wife, with grace and hypocritical smiles.

The uniting of man and woman concludes, leaving parents and in-laws weeping over spilt milk. The couple move to the rear of the ‘whare kai’ followed by the minister and members of the family. Everyone stands in silence, and the grace is read in Maori. Everyone sits, admiring the bride and groom, children laugh and wish, wish that some day they will be united in the manner encountered this very day.

Toasts to the bride and groom, that they may have a long and happy life, accom-

panied with cheers, ‘for they are jolly good fellows’, bring the wedding to a climax. The parents of the couples speak on how they are not accustomed to making long speeches. Great friends known only to the couple, now speak of how the groom is worthy of being married to a splendid wife, and the groom is lucky to have one so understanding to stand beside him, during moments of suspense and anxiety.

The wedding cake is carved with a knife shaped like a dagger, and pieces distributed amongst the joyful guests.

The children leave tables and play in the open air. Through tears of happiness, the sight of ‘beer’ sends thrills through the groom's mind, and his mouth spills vast amounts of instantly-made saliva. The liquid flows easily down the speech-sore throats of the minister and his friends, jokes show that guests have not forgotten their humour. The future is forgotten, only the present remains, and is welcomed by all.

ago we had a prominent local musician Mr Patrick Flynn getting wide publicity in the Sunday Times by saying ‘There is no such thing as Maori music…. Maori words have been put to European songs of the 20s and 30s. There is no Maori music at all.’

Of course there are many Maori songs to Pakeha tunes and whilst such songs are very much second best, they nevertheless have their place. (I never tire of quoting the Maori who explaining the use of a Pakeha tune said: ‘We are but simple people. We have made up the words and actions but to compose the music is the work of very skilled craftsmen. There are none such amongst us so we have borrowed a tune and changed it to our use to express those thoughts which are in our hearts’). Nevertheless, although they write in Pakeha idiom (because this is an idiom familiar to and enjoyed by the vast majority of New Zealanders, Maori and Pakeha), there are Maori composers who compose original tunes with Maori lyrics which deal with Maori things. Surely it is legitimate to call this Maori music and indeed to acknowledge it as truly New Zealand music?

Ashley Heenan has taken some of the best loved songs of this genre and arranged them for orchestra, choir and soloists. The result is a ‘Maori Suite’ featured as part of side one of a Kiwi record entitled

YOUTH AND MUSIC

SLC-72 12 in. Stereo/Mono LP 33 ⅓ rpm

The suite was commissioned for the Royal youth concert given in the presence of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother on 26 April 1966, and this record is of the actual performance before Her Majesty in the Wellington Town Hall. The choir consists of children from Nelson College for Girls, Cashmere High School, Christchurch Girls' High School, Wellington Girls' College, New Plymouth Girls' High School, Spotswood College, St. Mary's College, Hutt Valley High School and Tawa College. The orchestra is of young players from the NZBC Symphony Orchestra, Auckland Symphonia, Christchurch Civic Orchestra, Dunedin Civic Orchestra and the 1965 National Youth Orchestra under

the baton of Juan Matteucci. The songs in the suite are ‘I Runga I Nga Puke’, ‘Hine e Hine’, ‘Poi Kihikihi’, ‘Tahi Nei Taru Kino’ and ‘Haere ra e Hoa Ma’. The soloists are Donna Awatere and Laurette Gibb.

‘I Runga Nga Puke’ is a joy to listen to. The choir, predominantly of Pakeha children, sings the Maori words with clarity and correct pronunciation. Unfortunately, the first soloist seems to have some difficulty with the words and there is occasional blurring of the pronunciation.

In ‘Hine e Hine’ the choir provides a haunting counterpoint to the soloist. Once or twice the orchestra seems to overwhelm the singers but I think that one must accept the acoustic limitations of the Wellington Town Hall and the fact that this is a live recording of a concert performance rather than one made in a studio at a special recording session.

‘Poi Kihikihi’ offers a contrast to the other songs in the suite in that it is cast in a more ancient idiom. Ashley Heenan's arrangement captures with strength and beauty the song of the locust. The soloist effectively evokes the quality of voice used by the kuia of ancient times when singing laments and chants whilst the choir provides a haunting obliggato to make the song a beautiful blend of the ancient and the modern.

Ashley Heenan has given ‘Tahi Nei Taru Kino’ one of his rather typical ‘lightly tripping, gaily skipping, arrangements which is suggestive of the coy lover singing about the perils of falling in love. There is a very tuneful duet in this song. ‘Haere Ra e Hoa Ma’ is sung with real poignancy as befits a farewell song. It is marred by the fact that the song, and of course the suite itself, comes to a somewhat inconclusive ending.

My main criticisms, and they are muted ones, are that it is a pity for the sake of contrast and interest that there was no male soloist or duettist and that one could wish for more venturesome parts for the choir. Only in the final verse of ‘I Runga I Nga Puke’ is their potential fleetingly exploited. A full choral arrangement of one of the songs — perhaps by a truly Maori choir — would have set the seal on a most attractive contribution to the field of Maori music and indeed New Zealand music. It is to be hoped that this will not be the one and only full-scale performance of Maori Suite. However, even if it is, this splendid recording will bring it to the wider audience which it undoubtedly merits.

THE BEAUTY OF THE MAORI

Hukarere Maori Girls' School

HMV CSDM 6259 Mono-Stereo 10 in. LP 33 ⅓ rpm

THE MAORI GIRLS OF TURAKINA

Turakina Maori Girls' College Choir

Viking Mono VP255 10 in. LP 33 ⅓ rpm

There seems to be a considerable public interest in records of unaccompanied Maori female voices and two more records have appeared to meet this demand. Both records are pleasant listening but both unfortunately suffer from the same defects.

Firstly, the covers. Neither cover tells anything about the singers or their schools and there is a disturbing lack of detail as to what the songs are about except for brief descriptions such as ‘sacred song’ on the Turakina cover. I am afraid that I put the blame for this squarely on the shoulders of the schools concerned. Record companies know only too well that cover information enhances the sales value of a recording and, unless I am sadly mistaken, there is no question of the companies refusing to print cover notes. Schools such as Hukarere and Turakina are truly cradles of Maori culture (hackneyed though that phrase is), or if they are not they certainly should be. It should not be beyond either the staff, pupils or interested parents to supply explanatory notes for inclusion on the cover of their record. This is indeed a sad omission.

Secondly, after listening to each record, there is an overwhelming impression of sameness, although the Hukarere record does have a little more sparkle. However, there are no adventurous choral arrangements, part singing, descants, etc. which the Maori voice can do so well. The contrast of a haka powhiri or a traditional chant would be welcome.

Thirdly, there are far too many songs on both records which are sung straight to easily recognisable Pakeha tunes. It behoves schools such as Turakina and Hukarere to steer clear of Tin Pan Alley as much

as possible and to concentrate instead on original music, particularly that written by Maoris. If Pakeha tunes have to be used then the less well-known should be preferred and with a little ingenuity given much more of a Maori flavour. I am not of course completely against the use of Pakeha tunes but I believe they should be used very sparingly on records (unless it is a tune where the Maori associations are very strong, such as ‘E Pari Ra’), particularly by school groups who have the tradition and resources to do much better. The Pakeha listener cannot help but be assailed by a marked feeling of incongruity when he buys what he thinks is a record of Maori music and then hears Strauss waltzes, ‘Blue Skies’, etc., especially when there are no cover notes to tell him that the performers are not singing about blue skies but about Maori themes such as preserving the treasures of their ancestors, etc. (Perhaps, however, that point would strike the ultimate note of irony.)

Finally, both records show the marked fault of much Maori singing, namely bad breath control which results in an inability to sustain notes, particularly at the end of the line.

All of this is negative criticism I know but it is offered in the hope that school and other groups yet to record will try and do better. On the positive side both records are full of youthful verve and enthusiasm, the words are clearly enunciated and there is much very tuneful singing. The quality of the recordings is excellent.

WHAKARARO

1.	Watch, look at (10)
2.	The day after tomorrow (7)
3.	Carry off by force (6)
4.	Carved uprights in front of a house (3)
5.	Obtain; gone (4)
6.	Freckle, mole; shine, glitter (3)
7.	Sun, day (2)
8.	River mouth (8)
9.	Lead (5)
10.	Bring along; recite (4)
11.	It were better (3)
15.	Dust (5)
16.	He, she (2)
19.	Put out the lips, pout (2)
20.	Face in a certain direction, go (3)
22.	Shout; soft mud (2)
23.	December (6)
25.	South Island (10)
27.	Row, rank (7)
29.	Shoe (2)
32.	Calm, at rest (3)
33.	Faded, light coloured (4)
34.	Ancestor (6)
35.	Hard, firm; stanch blood (3)
36.	Used to (4)
37.	Winter (7)
41.	Officer (5)
42.	End, extremity; navel (4)
43.	Front wall of a house (4)
44.	Over the other side (3)
47.	Tip, point, summit (3)
49.	White, clean (2)

Crossword Puzzle No. 65

WHAKAPAE

1.	Cold (8)
8.	Appeased; satisfied (5)
12.	Stage, platform (7)
13.	Forehead (3)
14.	Gather fruit off a tree; spread out, lay out (6)
15.	Swing, wave about; skip with a rope (3)
17.	Vine: long thin roots (3)
18.	What? (3)
19.	Only child (7)
21.	Flesh (4)
23.	Remain, left over (3)
24.	Cover, spread out (3)
26.	Baptize (6)
28.	Smoke; firm, intense; bark (2)
29.	Breath (2)
30.	Sir (2)
31.	I, me (4)
33.	Gather, assemble (3)
34.	Tuesday (5)
36.	Mouth (4)
38.	Eye (6)
39.	Roam; go round about, circle around (4)
40.	Drive away, expel, sack (4)
41.	Accident, misfortune (5)
42.	Gun (2)
43.	Slave; Body of workmen (3)
44.	Put out, quench (5)
45.	Bee (2)
46.	Turi's Canoe (5)
48.	Dry land (3)
49.	Many (4)
50.	Digging stick (2)
51.	World (2)
52.	Brave, bold, capable (4)
53.	Coming or going straight towards, hitting exactly; just, proper (5)