We sat down to kōrero with Kelly Moana Murphy - wāhine, wife, mother and friend.

Together with her husband Adam, Kelly runs eco-friendly bed and breakfast The Huts in Ahipara, Northland. An elemental accomodation experience that balances simple luxuries with the raw west coast, all while raising two wildling girls full of life and energy and restoring the land with natural restoration planting.

As we near the end of te Wiki o te Reo Māori, Kelly shares a few thoughts on her personal Te reo Maori journey and connecting to her whakapapa, acknowledging the past, while looking forward with kindness to both self and other.

Can you share with us a little bit about who you are and what you do?

I am a wāhine of Aotearoa. Of Māori, Irish, and English whakapapa. Brought up in two rural west coast communities - Ahipara and Raglan / Whāingaroa. Wife to an Irishman, Mother to two kōtiro who are full of life force. Our family owns and operates a small accommodation in Ahipara, The Huts, and I'm a Project Manager in an Afforestation Hub in Te Runanga o Te Rarawa which connects landowners to funding for, and facilitates, native restoration planting. When we're not working, we're playing in the ocean, on our whenua, or eating food and dancing under the stars with our friends and whānau.

Tell us about your relationship with te reo Māori – where did your journey begin? And what does your reo mean to you?

My journey with Te Reo Maori began being born into Aotearoa. There have been lots of barriers to learning te reo Māori. Apart from growing up in communities with a strong Māori presence, and engaging in kapa haka at school, my grandparents were part of the urban drift, or what my grandmother calls "The Age of Denial" where everyone was pretending to be white. We're fortunate now for the land marches of the past, the petitions for te reo, that brought those incredibly important issues into everyday New Zealand households, and over time the revitalisation of the culture and te reo Māori. Because of the hard work that came before, I've been able to experience times of flow with my reo journey - such as full immersion with my eldest daughter in her first year of life, or working within the Runanga. But it's not easy to make these commitments, whether it's re-connecting to your culture, bringing down the patriarchy, climate action or all of the things - so many people are just focused on putting food on the table or a roof over their heads. So it's a complex journey, but one I have accepted with peace for its pace.

There are two instances where the kākano (seed) burst for me. One was when my Tūhoe friend explained the "How Maori are you?" question is a tool of colonisation, part of the idea that your Maori can be bred out of you, and perpetuates that fear that you might not be "enough". That was years ago, and I can still feel the stillness of the night following our kōrero, and my heart felt like it was beating "I. am. Māori." It hasn't stopped since.

How do you think language effects our connection to whenua/land?

The other was the first reading of one of my favourite books "The Lost Language of Plants". The author, Stephen Harrod Buhner, presents that languages arise in the relationship between people and the land. This has had a profound effect on the way I see the world and engage with it. One being that the importance of language is in the relationship with the whenua. I feel the human disconnection from the taiao is the root cause of our problems. So if we learn the language and/or the tikanga of the whenua we live on, we begin to heal our relationship with the taiao, and as part of that our relationship with ourselves, and each other.

How has this inspired you in your mahi?

Sometime after this personal evolution, I wrote that my mahi would somehow weave together people and the whenua. Luckily that's incredibly broad, because that's how I work. From the Eco Bed and Breakfast, to the Afforestation hub, to the governance boards and committees that I sit on, they might seem varied, but all their waka are heading in the same direction. So whilst that rākau (tree) is growing, it's fed from my love for surfing in the moana, running in the ngāhere, and the thought of the future my children will inhabit.

How would you encourage others to approach beginning their own journey with te reo? Māori and non-Māori?

I would encourage anyone living in Aotearoa to embrace their journey with te reo Maori. Personally I'm currently investing my time in Tikanga through Te Wananga o Aotearoa courses - they're free if anyone's interested. It supports me to build my language, but provides guidance for how to live day to day, context, the history of Aotearoa, and so much more. I believe there's space for everyone, but also recognising that it can be easier for non Maori to engage with their reo journey because they don't have the generational baggage of colonisation holding them down. Not to say they don't have colonial baggage - we're all loaded with the stuff.

My biggest curiosity at the moment is "What is Aotearoa in 100 years?" We can't turn back the clock, but we can be co-creators of what Aotearoa looks and feels like. Whether you're Maori or non Maori, and actually whatever journey you are on, my biggest encouragement would be to be gentle. There is no road map for repair, and this time feels like one of rapid change, learning and growth. Being gentle with each other is an important part to us getting out the other side with mana intact.

What is one important phrase or saying in te reo Māori that resonates deeply with you? Something we could all learn from?

The harakeke (flax) structure can be divided into three generations - from the innermost leaves being tamariki (children), the inner leaves are mātua (parents), with the outer leaves being the tūpuna (grandparents).

There’s a whakataukī of which the second half is well known. But it’s the first half that interests me most.

Hūtia te rito o te harakeke, kei whea te korimako e kō?
Ka rere ki uta, ka rere ki tai
Kī mai koe ki au, he aha te mea nui o te ao?
Māku e kī atu,
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata!

If you pluck out the centre shoot flax, where will the bellbird sing?
It will fly inland, it will fly seawards
If you ask me, what is the most important thing in the world?
I will reply,
It is people, it is people, it is people!

I see the second part of it often used, and I wonder if the person quoting it knows this whakatauki is central to the well-being of our tamariki. Yes, people are important, but most important in that are our tamariki.

When harvesting harakeke you only take the tūpuna shoots, so you don’t kill the plant. You also cut away from the plant so the water doesn’t run down and rot the roots.

Arohanui whānau, Kelly.

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Kelly Moana Murphy // Te Wiki o te Reo Māori