Like winning an Olympic gold: Rawiri Paratene 50 years on from Māori language petition
Thursday, 1 September 2022
Rawiri Paratene (Ngāpuhi, Te Rarawa) was wearing a white turtleneck jumper and a second-hand coat as he marched towards Parliament.
Read this story in te reo Māori and English here. / Pānuitia tēnei i te reo Māori me te reo Pākehā ki konei.
It was spring, but the biting Wellington winds meant everyone had wrapped up warm.
The critically acclaimed actor was a young drama student and member of Ngā Tamatoa, an activist group synonymous with names like well-known trade unionist Syd Jackson and Tūhoe artist and activist Tame Iti.
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Paratene, among others, was walking to present the Māori language petition to Parliament. They wanted te reo Māori to be taught in schools.
This moment had been a long time coming, you can’t collect 30,000 signatures overnight, after all.
In the case of Paratene, the story of the petition began through a friendship with another young activist, Tama Poata.
“He’s gone now,” says Paratene.
“But he was a fantastic friend … we started a branch of Ngā Tamatoa because we had one in Auckland, and we had one in Christchurch, but we didn't have one in Wellington.”
Ngā Tamatoa would soon meet with the Te Reo Māori Society. The idea for the Māori language petition was born soon after, he explains.
“They were fantastic, and they were really good at collecting signatures and talking about why we should have te reo classes,” says Paratene.
“It was great, you know. We were going to some really flash areas like Karori. We got a lot of signatures.”
Of course, not everybody was on board with the kaupapa.
“Some people would just close the door, but lots of people … mostly they would engage. Even if they decided that they didn't want to sign it.”
As September 14, 1972, approached, Paratene got advice from his aunty about doing a mihi on the steps of power.
“I went to her and I said, ‘I need to speak’, so she coached me on how to do it. She was saying to do it like how your grandfather does.
“When you walk away, you walk back … don't turn around with your bum …”
September 14 arrived and, with it, a feeling of strength and togetherness, says Paratene.
“It was like … we won a gold at the Olympics or something like that.
“I felt like that, you know. I will always remember that day and that time.”
Watching from the steps of power was a group of seven members of Parliament, including Labour MPs Whetū Tirikātene-Sullivan, and Matiu Rata.
“The most essential thing we’re trying to achieve is to make the public aware that the Māori language is not dead and has no real hope of dying,” Paratene told media at the time.
“The Māori language is a very real and living thing … it’s the prime language of the marae …”
Protesters were later welcomed into the building to formally read and present the petition, says Paratene.
“I'm thinking now about Hana Te Hemara and Syd Jackson, and they were fantastic.
“They're both gone now.”
He looks at an old Auckland Star news photo from the Stuff archives. A young Paratene can be seen on the left, with his hand in the pocket of his coat.
Next to him, with an umbrella in one hand and his tie flapping in the wind, is Paul Kotara.
“He’s gone now.”
The caption on the original image identifies Te Ouenuku Rene as the kaumātua leading from the front.
Looking at the image 50 years on, Paratene feels immense pride.
He now lives in the Auckland suburb of St Heliers. He has suffered a series of strokes and has aphasia, which means he can sometimes struggle to find his words.
Despite this, he makes sure to go for a walk every day, and says people will often stop to say, “Kia ora”.
It’s special to hear, partly because he knows the petition had something to do with it.
Also – as Paratene points out – this is a rich, National-voting area. It sits in the electorate once held by Robert Muldoon.
In some way, Paratene has now assumed the place of Te Ouenuku Rene in the old newspaper image. A rangatira leading the next generation through.
“I don’t think that I would call myself a rangatira, I’m happy to be a kaumātua,” says Paratene.
“All the Māori … when they see me, they just call me matua, and I like that, you know. Or koro, because they are terms of respect.
“As for rangatira, I would like to be called that when I’ve got my reo back.”