Ayla’s commitment to te reo Māori and community empowerment

In February 2022, I had the privilege of sitting down with Ayla Te Aira Blair Smith over a few ginger beers and picking her brain about all things te reo Māori, te ao Māori, living overseas, education, language, working in the public sector here in Wellington, and what we could all do to contribute more to our communities. Despite the fact that Ayla is younger than I am, she inspires me endlessly. I hope you’ll enjoy reading her words as much as I enjoyed hearing them.

Lindsay: Kia ora, beautiful girl! Can you tell everyone: Ko wai koe? 

Ayla: Kia ora! Ko Ayla tōku ingoa. Also known as Te Aira. On my mum’s side, I’m from the Waikato-Tainui whānui, from Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Tūwharetoa, and Ngāti Apakura, so a little bit all over the place. On my dad’s side, I whakapapa all the way from the famous Moeraki boulders to Aoraki mountain, the great Ngāi Tahu. 

However, I identify most with the Te Arawa region, within Rotorua because I grew up there. So a lot of the stories I grew up with, tikanga, kawa and mita all originate from Te Arawa. 

Lindsay: Tell me more about yourself, who you are as a person. What do you stand for? 

Ayla: Let’s start with what I stand for, because it’ll always be about land back. But that’s something I’ve become more sure about recently. 

Where I stand today, who I am, and what I’ve achieved is attributed to a mixer of factors, one being the decision to go to university here in Aotearoa. This was a big but ultimately easy choice because I wanted my focus to be on te ao Māori and tāngata whenua. Through that decision, it meant I’ve had the experience of developing a lot of relationships with Māori who grew up in urban settings and are now trying to find their te reo Māori and reconnect with their whakapapa. Those stories and journeys always inspire me, and I just never felt like I could get that from studying abroad again.

Also, getting the job I currently have and being able to teach te reo Māori at the Wellington High School was massive for me. I got to reconnect with my own reo and strengthen that. It also made my values and beliefs more vivid, especially in the way they I choose to embody them. 

Lindsay: Tell me more about the experience of stepping into teaching and what it was like to teach your language to to such a diverse range of people.

Ayla: It was nerve wracking. I remember my first class, and the few that followed from that. I was so nervous. My age played a big role in those nerves because despite all the experiences (teaching children) I’d had previously, this was a different ball game. I was teaching adults who would present questions that were harder to answer. I wasn’t necessarily scared of that – I was excited to enter this space – but it was also challenging to think about how little I knew about a language I have been speaking my whole life. 

I always started those classes by prefacing that I too was a learner in the classroom, and ensuring everyone was okay with me not having all the answers. I think that helped a lot. It allowed for students to understand the complexity of te reo Māori, but also the journey that I too was on with them, despite being a native speaker. 

It was one of the most rewarding jobs I’ve ever had. To know that by the end of each course, students had gained something. Whether it was their newfound ability to introduce themselves or gaining the confidence in their pronunciation – it meant everything to me. Just to know that they were further along their journey than where they'd started off. I think the reason why it meant so much to me was because it was something I had been so unsure of, in the sense that it’s one thing to deliver the material, and I was fairly confident I could do that part of the job, but the rest was on the students. It was up to them how much they choose to absorb, how much time outside of class they choose to study – all I really had to do was make sure that the environment was a safe one for them to be able to flourish in their learning. So to do that, I ditch the formalities and standardised testing because it’s never been beneficial to me, and I went with a non-formal approach. It was well received! 

Lindsay: From a te reo perspective, and acknowledging the context that we’re in with the movement to continue revitalising, how does it feel to be at the forefront of that mahi? You’re teaching the next generation, but also adults, and immigrants like me. What does that feel like from an intergenerational perspective? 

Ayla: For me, it’s empowering, because I am embodying the change. Growing up in te ao Māori meant that I was educated in te reo Māori, my worldview was that of my ancestors, and was regularly going to the marae. It was and is everything I am. But with teaching, it felt like I was stepping into ‘action’ – being the change. And the response that I received is what made it so worthwhile. I can hardly explain the feeling of finishing the 8-week course and having people take me aside and say, “you really helped me start this journey,” or other Māori who were reconnecting with their identity, culture and language and expressing how safe they felt in the classroom. 

Looking at the demographics in the classes I taught was interesting. There were a lot of people who were coming because it was more of a requirement for their jobs. Many public servants. Then there were a lot of immigrants coming who wanted to do the mahi to honour the land that they’re on and essentially Te Tiriti o Waitangi. There were parents who felt embarrassed because their children were surpassing their own level and knowledge of te reo Māori. There were also a lot of young people in their twenties who were either in Uni or just fresh out of Uni. 

It was so interesting to see people from all walks of life who were all coming together for the same purpose.

Lindsay: With this wide range of people in mind, what are some of the memorable moments of people sharing how this has impacted them? Can you speak to the human connection that developed through sharing te reo Māori.

Ayla: I probably can’t narrow it down to just one because the job was so rewarding in that everyone had those stories to share with me. What’s most special for me is when I’m not in the classroom setting and former students approach me and say, “Kia ora, kei te pēhea koe?!” They’re actively trying to normalise their use of te reo Māori, especially with people they know speak te reo. Not being whakamā. That always feels amazing! 

Lindsay: Can you tell me about the difference you’re making with your job with the Ministry of Education at the moment, and education in the government context? 

Ayla: I’m a Curriculum Developer for the International Baccalaureate (IB) and the Te Reo Māori Content Adviser within curriculum at the Ministry of Education. I never expected to be working in education, but the more that time went on I started to realise that educational roles kept popping up here and there. So eventually I decided to give it a try.  

It was during my time studying in Germany that I gained a new perspective on teaching and I became a lot more aware of the impact that that role has to play on the next generation. I think this had to do with their approach, moving away from standardised education and being more purposeful with how they were teaching. After that, I decided to volunteer for a year in India, teaching English. This was such a different take on things because this was a country that saw a lot of freedom and opportunities in learning and knowing English. 

This role was an odd choice for me because I’ve always considered English to be a second language for myself. Also, I think it’s important to note that I have an odd relationship with the English language because of colonisation and the Treaty, so there is a lot of mamae associated with English. Being in India and teaching English was amazing, but also challenging because their relationship with the language was so different to mine. 

In India, being able to speak English was seen as a gateway to a better education, better jobs, and ultimately a better life. It’s seen by many families as their opportunity to break out of intergenerational poverty, and it’s very real for them. And this was challenging for me, a wāhine Māori, who has continuously been told that knowing and speaking te reo Māori would get me nowhere and to use more English. Interestingly, every opportunity that I have been given to me has been related the fact that I grew up in Te Ao Māori and speak te reo Māori. I had to really sit with myself on multiple occasions and leave my beliefs (on the English language and the opportunities it may or may not bring) at the door because it wouldn’t be productive nor would it be prioritising the students and their education. I had to adapt and realise that things were different in India, and that was the context I was living in.  

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on my experience in India and it’s actually allowed me to bring a more neutral lens to kaupapa Māori, kaupapa Tiriti, mana motuhake, tino rangatiratanga and so forth. While I understand that what happened here in Aotearoa in the past was wrong and spiteful, I feel I’m able to sit on the fence and observe where we are today, and where we’re going with a bit more neutrality. 

Lindsay: So, you’ve lived in Germany, India, Mexico, and Melbourne. I find that incredible for someone who is only 24. You’ve lived a lot of life. Being back in Aotearoa, at least at present, how do these international experiences influence who you are today and the perspective you bring to your mahi?

Ayla: Those international experiences allow me to be more holistic in my approach. For example: my opinion isn’t the only one in the room, and it isn’t necessarily right. These experiences have allowed me to accept that sometimes I am wrong, and that’s okay. It’s made me more patient, more open to change, but I also think it’s made me more sure of who I am today. 

So if we go chronologically, I started off with Mexico on an exchange that happened through my kura. Not only did I realise how much I loved Latino America and Mexico and the Spanish Language, but I got my first taste of living overseas and it showed me that I had a desire to seek out similar experiences and learn more about different cultures and languages. 

Then I went to Germany, which was a very different experience. It was a hand-picked selection of students from all over the world. Their philosophy revolves around the fact that although you can learn a lot in a classroom, you can learn much more from one another. I don’t know about you but I’m much more likely to learn something from a conversation I had with a friend, than I am from a textbook. I’m much more engaged that way, and so I think that’s where my passion for leaving standardised education at the door and looking at more informal ways of learning came into play. 

I feel like we’ve talked a bit about India and the mahi I was doing there, but my experience in India was interesting because I really struggled to adjust to life there, but by the time I left I was feeling like I could live there for the rest of my life. Ultimately I was there for the kids I was teaching, and I think that translates into a lot of my ‘why’ nowadays – it’s always for the next generation.

And then living in Melbourne was also different because it was a time that taught me to be self-sufficient. Adult life kicked in and I had to become even more independent. I realised that although I’d had so much growth in all these other countries, nothing compares to having only $20 in the bank account and having to prioritise living needs over wants. My mother often refers to Melbourne as the true start to my growth, because it was where I had to combine all my learnings from elsewhere, and apply them to my daily life. 

I think it’s important to mention that each and every one of those experiences were amazing in their own right - but it doesn’t mean they were amazing at all times because there were definitely some lows. They’ve all influenced the direction I’ve gone in my life, ensuring that my path has been carefully considered. In saying that, it doesn’t mean I don’t regularly ask myself: what the hell am I doing? But I’ve just embraced it. 

Lindsay: You’ve painted a fantastic picture of where you’ve been, and also the important mahi you’re doing at present, and I’m curious now to ask: what could people do better? I say “people” in the broad sense. If you could inspire people to mobilise, to act better, to care more, what would you want to see here in Aotearoa? 

Ayla: It’s the simple things. Reflect. Think about an interaction you had today – do you like the person you see in the mirror? I’ve had to do this a lot recently, even just with small interactions, with people I call my best friends. 

If people could reflect a little more, from a collective society perspective, there might be a greater understanding about why tāngata whenua have this anger built up in them, or whakamā that comes with certain things, or mamae that’s not easily ignorable. But equally, if we all reflected together as a nation, I think we could move forward together. I am also aware that that’s not a perspective that is shared by everyone, and I’m fine with that. 

Lindsay: Maybe it’s also about looking at each person’s mana, integrity, value-set, instead of assuming they’re going to be a certain way, even though Māori will feel let down by Pākehā a lot of the time. 

Ayla: I think there’s a lot of “you don’t understand because you’re Pākehā”. And there is a certain amount of truth to that. But that can be said in any situation, about any culture. It’s not unique to us by any means. Based on my own experiences, a lot of my growth has come from my decision to befriend a lot of Pākehā, and acknowledging their mana, integrity, value-set and it’s been reciprocated in return. 

Lindsay: And they’re all better for having you in their life! 

Ayla: But vice versa, you know! It makes me a better tāngata whenua in the approach that I want to take. I don't want to be angry all the time. It’s not nice for me, or the people around me. And it’s exhausting. 

A long story short: if what's going to make you better as a Pākehā is stepping out of your comfort zone and learning more te reo Māori – do it. If what’s going to be better for me as a Māori is being open to political conversations that may not always swing my way with Pākehā, then so be it. 

I think we are so comfortable being comfortable. But there’s no growth unless you’re in the stretch zone. It’s like a friendship. It’s 50/50 or it’s nothing. It doesn’t work if it’s 70/30, or even 60/40. You have to be on the same page and that’s achieved through open communication. And this means being open to the fact that you’re not always right! It all comes back to reflection. Just reflect a little more. I’m sure we’d all be better for it.