Readings & Reflections
Readings and Reflections from Paper Māori 570 - Te Mahi Rangahau: Māori, Pacific and Indigenous Research Methods and Issues.
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Week Seven - knowledge has whakapapa - examining the literature
Shawn Wilson: Chapter 3: Can a Ceremony Include a Literature Review? (from 'Research is Ceremony').
Wilson, S. (2008). Research is ceremony: Indigenous research methods. Fernwood Publishing.
"You are answerable to all your relations when you are doing research" (Wilson, 2008, p. 177).
This quote made me reflect on one of the biggest shifts in my thinking throughout this paper: my understanding of Indigenous knowledge and how it can exist within research. Before beginning this course, I often felt uncertain about how knowledge gained through lived experience, creative practice, whakapapa, and relationships could be incorporated into an academic context. I understood these things as important, but I was unsure how they could be recognised as legitimate forms of knowledge within research… and how I would articulate that.
Wilson's discussion of relational knowledge is helping me make sense of this uncertainty. The idea that knowledge exists within relationships, rather than as something separate or objective, connected with many of the concepts we have explored throughout the paper. In many ways, this is something I already believed through my own experiences; I simply didn't have the language to articulate it. It also reinforced the idea that Indigenous knowledge does not need to be translated into Western frameworks in order to be valuable. Instead, it can be understood and applied on its own terms.
As I continue developing my research, I am becoming more confident that the knowledge I bring through my own experiences, creative practice, and relationships is not separate from research. Rather, these relationships may be central to how I come to understand the questions I am exploring.
Graff & Birkenstein: Intro Section, Part 1: They Say (from 'They Say, I Say: The Moves That Matter in Academic Writing').
Graff, G., & Birkenstein, C. (2014). They say / I say: The moves that matter in academic writing (3rd ed.). W. W. Norton & Company.
One of the things I found interesting about this reading was the idea that academic writing is essentially a conversation. Rather than simply presenting information, Graff and Birkenstein argue that writers first engage with what others have said before contributing their own perspective. While this seems like a simple idea, it helped me recognise a pattern in the way I have been approaching many of the readings throughout this paper.
As I reflected on this, I realised that much of my journal has naturally followed a "they say, I say" structure. I often begin by exploring the ideas presented by an author and then consider how those ideas connect to, challenge, or expand my own understanding. In many ways, this has become the process through which I make sense of new knowledge.
What I found most reassuring was the authors' argument that structure does not diminish creativity or individual voice. Prior to this paper, academic writing often felt intimidating because I wasn't always sure how to connect my own thoughts and experiences to the work of other scholars (especially with the words they use!). This reading has helped me see that frameworks and writing structures are not there to replace my voice, but to support it.
Hirini Moko Mead - mātauranga Māori: Te Mahi, Te Mohio, Te Maramatanga Māori Knowledge: The Doing, The Knowing and the understanding.
Sir Hirini Moko Mead (2017, revised). "Mātauranga Māori: Te Mahi, te Mohio, te Maramatanga / Māori Knowledge: The Doing, the Knowing and the Understanding." Keynote address, Te Whare Wānanga o Awanuiārangi.
Moe mai rā e te Rangatira. Thank you for all you have done for our people x
Kei runga te kōrero; kei raro te rahurahu (Fine words above; some troubling thoughts below). – Tamateaarehe
Ta Hirini Moko Mead is difficult to describe. I want to say he is one of my heroes, but even that doesn't quite capture it. His mātauranga is vast, and over the years I have read many of his books and papers. For a long time, he was my only real connection to anything mahi toi related.
I grew up within a Western system of learning and education. Through college and university, much of what I learnt about Māori art came through books such as Te Toi Whakakairo: The Art of Māori Carving and Te Māori: Māori Art from New Zealand Collections. It wasn't until the mid-2000s that I began learning more about the many different facets of mahi toi. Because of this, I am deeply appreciative of Ta Hirini and his willingness to share his knowledge.
For this reading, I found it particularly interesting learning about the whakapapa of Mātauranga Māori and the questions Mead poses towards the end of his kōrero.
As I reflected on this, I realised that much of my creative practice has always been grounded in Māori ways of being, knowing, and doing. Before beginning this paper, I often approached my work through intuition, experience, relationships, and making, without fully understanding how these connected to broader systems of Māori knowledge.
This paper has helped me move from simply doing the mahi to becoming more conscious of the mātauranga that informs it. More than anything, these readings have helped me recognise the knowledge systems that sit beneath my creative practice and encouraged me to ask deeper questions about how they inform both my mahi and my research.
Week eight - te Kakano: Developing your research
Shawn Wilson: Chapter 4: The Elements of An Indigenous Research Paradigm.
Wilson, S. (2008). Research is ceremony: Indigenous research methods. Fernwood Publishing.
"You are answerable to all your relations when you are doing research" (Wilson, 2008, p. 177).
I have always known how important relationships are. They have shaped my creative practice, my business, my whānau life, and the way I engage with others. What this reading (along with many of the others) helped me realise is that relationships are not separate from research either. Rather than sitting alongside the work, they help shape the knowledge that emerges from it.
Wilson's discussion of relationality helped me make sense of something I have felt for a long time but have often struggled to articulate. Much of what I know has come through relationships with whānau, mentors, communities, makers, and the materials I work with. The knowledge I draw on has rarely come from a single source or detached observation. Instead, it has emerged through connection, experience, conversation, and shared learning.
What I found most interesting was Wilson's argument that knowledge carries responsibility. If knowledge exists within relationships, then research is not simply about gathering information; it is also about being accountable to the people, stories, and experiences connected to that knowledge. This encouraged me to think more carefully about my own role as both a researcher and a maker.
As I continue developing my research, I understand that relationships are not just something I bring to the process. They may, in fact, be the foundation upon which the research itself is built.
Leonie Pihama - Kaupapa Māori theory: Transforming theory in Aotearoa
Pihama, L. (2015). Kaupapa Māori theory: Transforming theory in Aotearoa. In L. Pihama, S.-J. Tiakiwai, & K. Southey (Eds.), Kaupapa rangahau: A reader. A collection of readings from the Kaupapa Rangahau workshop series (pp. 5–14). Te Kotahi Research Institute.
Reading Pihama's discussion of Kaupapa Māori theory has helped me develop a deeper understanding of what Kaupapa Māori means beyond simply being a research methodology. Prior to this paper, I understood it broadly as research by Māori, for Māori, and with Māori aspirations at its centre. While I still hold that understanding, I now see that Kaupapa Māori is also a theoretical framework grounded in mātauranga Māori, tikanga Māori, te reo Māori, and the experiences of our people. It provides a way of understanding and engaging with the world from a distinctly Māori perspective.
At the same time, this reading reminded me how much I still have to learn. The more I read, the more I realise that Kaupapa Māori is not a fixed destination that can be reached, but an ongoing journey of learning, questioning, and reflection. As Pihama notes, it is organic and evolving, which means my own understanding will continue to develop alongside my research and creative practice.
This has encouraged me to think more carefully about how I position myself within my research. I am not approaching my work as a neutral observer. I am Māori, a maker, a designer, a business owner, a mother, a grandmother and a researcher. These experiences shape the questions I ask, the knowledge I value, and the way I interpret what I learn. Rather than viewing those connections as a limitation, Kaupapa Māori theory recognises them as a strength. It provides a space where my whakapapa, experiences, and creative practice are not separate from the research, but fundamental to it.
Week nine - the research hikoi: making a plan, finding your voice
Bobby Luke - Hau Rongo: The Breath of Rongo
Luke, B. C. W. (2016). Hau Rongo: The Breath of Rongo (Master of Art and Design [Visual Arts] thesis). Auckland University of Technology, Auckland, New Zealand.
Reading Bobby Luke's thesis felt less like discovering something new and more like finding language for things I had already known through practice. For my blog assessment I reflected that engaging with Bobby's work felt as though "the kohu was lifting, revealing pathways that had always been present." The thesis provided concepts and frameworks that helped me articulate understandings I had previously carried instinctively through my creative practice. Ideas such as Whiri Kawe and Hau Huri Mātauranga helped me recognise that knowledge is not simply acquired; it is transmitted, activated, and continually renewed through relationships, experience, and practice.
One of the most significant things I took from this reading was the understanding that knowledge already exists within the spaces I inhabit. Through whānau, whakapapa, creative practice, and everyday experiences, I have been engaging with forms of knowledge-making for much of my life. What Bobby's thesis offered was a way of understanding and articulating those processes. It gave structure to ideas I had previously felt but struggled to explain.
As I continue this research journey, I find myself returning to the image of the kohu lifting. Not because the landscape is changing, but because I am beginning to see it more clearly. Each reading adds another layer of understanding, helping me recognise that my creative practice is not separate from knowledge production or research. It is one of the ways I come to know, understand, and engage with the world around me.
Gerald Graff & Cathy Birkenstein -'They Say, I Say' … Part 2: I Say.
Graff, G., & Birkenstein, C. (2014). They Say / I Say: The Moves That Matter in Academic Writing (3rd ed.). W. W. Norton & Company.
When I first began reading They Say / I Say, I assumed it would be another text about academic writing conventions. However, what I found most useful was not the encouragement to have an opinion, but the framework it provides for organising and positioning that opinion within a wider conversation.
Throughout this paper, I have rarely struggled to form a response to a reading. In fact, I often find myself with multiple thoughts, questions, agreements, and disagreements as I work through a text. What I sometimes find more difficult is knowing how to structure those responses in a way that clearly communicates my thinking. This is where Graff and Birkenstein's approach was particularly helpful.
The idea that academic writing is a conversation seems simple, yet it provides a practical framework for approaching readings. By first identifying what "they say" and then considering what "I say," the text offers a way of organising thoughts that feels both accessible and useful. Rather than viewing writing as a process of summarising information, it becomes an act of engaging with ideas, responding to them, extending them, or even challenging them.
As I reflected on my own writing throughout this paper, I realised that I have naturally been doing this to some extent already. Many of my reflections begin with a reading and then move into my own experiences, creative practice, or personal interpretations. What this text provided was a clearer understanding of how those moves function within academic writing and why they are important.
Moving forward, I can see this framework becoming a useful tool within my research and writing practice. Not because it tells me what to think, but because it offers a structure for communicating my thinking more clearly. As my research develops, I expect there will be many conversations I need to enter, whether with authors, practitioners, communities, or my own creative work. They Say / I Say provides a practical reminder that research is not simply about gathering ideas; it is about participating in the discussion and contributing something of your own.
Gerald Graff & Cathy Birkenstein -'They Say, I Say' … Part 3: Tying It All Together.
Graff, G., & Birkenstein, C. (2014). They Say / I Say: The Moves That Matter in Academic Writing (3rd ed.). W. W. Norton & Company.
Reflecting on They Say / I Say as a whole, I can appreciate why this text has become such a widely used academic writing resource. It provides practical tools for engaging with literature, structuring arguments, and positioning your own voice within scholarly conversations.
To be honest though, I did find the text quite long-winded at times. Many of the key ideas felt as though they could have been communicated more succinctly, and there were moments where I felt the authors were reinforcing the same point through multiple examples. As someone who tends to learn by identifying the core idea and then applying it through practice, I occasionally found myself wanting a more condensed version of the resource.
Despite this, I can still see the value in what Graff and Birkenstein are trying to achieve. One idea that particularly stood out to me was the concept of "planting a naysayer" within the text. I think this creates a more robust argument because it requires us to consider alternative perspectives rather than simply reinforcing our own views. I also appreciated the "Who cares?" question. While it seems simple, it reminds us to think critically about why our research matters in the first place. It brought to mind conversations I have had with Donna about the purpose of research. At its core, the question really is: who cares? And perhaps more importantly, why should they care? If we cannot answer that, then we need to think more carefully about the value and contribution of our work.
What I will take forward from this reading is not necessarily the templates themselves, but the framework that sits beneath them. The process of identifying what others are saying, considering my own response, and then clearly connecting those ideas provides a useful structure for approaching future writing. As my research journey continues, I can see myself returning to these principles as a way of organising my thinking and communicating it more effectively.
Ultimately, while the reading was not always an easy or concise one, it offered a practical reminder that academic writing is not about finding the perfect answer. It is about entering a conversation, contributing to it, and helping others understand the path of your thinking.
Week 12 - research has a responsibility to heal: sharing knowledge
Hayley Cavino - “He would not listen to a woman”: Decolonizing gender through the power of pūrākau.
Hayley Marama Cavino (2019). "'He Would Not Listen to a Woman': Decolonizing Gender through the Power of Pūrākau." In Decolonizing Research: Indigenous Storywork as Methodology, edited by Jo-Ann Archibald Q'um Q'um Xiiem, Jenny Lee-Morgan, and Jason De Santolo. London: Zed Books.
Rahera Te Kahuhiapo stood in the Native Land Court in 1897 and said what needed to be said, even when no one was listening. "He would not listen to a woman." Cavino (2019) took those seven words and held them up to the light, over a hundred years later, and in doing so, she saw her tīpuna. That act of seeing… across time, across erasure…is what moved me most about this reading.
As a wāhine Māori, I know something about not being listened to. About being in rooms where your knowledge is present but your mana isn't acknowledged. Cavino argues that when wāhine reclaim and reauthor our pūrākau, we reinstate ourselves as holders of knowledge, and we concurrently disrupt the dominance of narratives that have centred everyone else. That's not a small thing. That's healing.
And that's what I want my mahi to do too. My work… the making, the designing, the telling of stories through taonga, is… at its core, a demand to be seen. Not just as a designer or a creative. As a wāhine Māori whose knowledge, whakapapa, and ways of knowing are legitimate and alive. Cavino's framing of pūrākau as ceremony, as a way to reconcile the past's ever-present presence, gives me language for this. My making is ceremony. Each piece a form of testimony.
Like Rahera demanded an audience. I'm still doing the same mahi… just in a different room.
Linda Smith - Decolonizing methodologies (kaupapa Maori)
Smith, L. T. (2012). Decolonizing methodologies: Research and Indigenous peoples (2nd ed.). Zed Books.
Of all the readings throughout this paper, Decolonizing Methodologies is perhaps the one I found most impactful and healing.
If I am honest, I found the book difficult at first. The language was unfamiliar, and I struggled to understand how the text was structured. I often found myself rereading sections and wondering if I was missing something. However, once I moved beyond the first few chapters, everything began to shift. The ideas became easier to digest, and more importantly, I began to see myself within the pages. For the first time, I could genuinely see myself as a researcher. Prior to this paper, I had never thought of myself that way. I saw research as part of a process, but not as something I was, or something I could become. Yet through this paper, I have come to realise that I actually am a researcher.
What makes this book healing for me is that it speaks directly to Indigenous people. It speaks to me, to my tīpuna, to my mokopuna, to my maunga, my awa, my iwi, and my hapū. Rather than positioning Indigenous peoples as subjects to be observed, analysed, and interpreted by others, Smith challenges that entire framework. She shifts the power back into Indigenous hands. She reminds us that we have the right to tell our own stories, define our own realities, and determine what knowledge is important to us.
Throughout the book, Smith exposes the ways research has historically been used as a tool of imperialism and colonisation. While this can be confronting, I also found it validating. Many of the frustrations, inequities, and struggles Indigenous peoples continue to experience are not imagined or isolated incidents. They are connected to larger systems and histories. There is something healing in having those experiences named and acknowledged.
At the same time, the book does not remain in that space of critique. What I appreciated most was that Smith moves beyond identifying the problem and begins imagining what Indigenous research can look like when it serves Indigenous communities. Research becomes an act of remembering, restoring, reclaiming, creating, and strengthening. It becomes a way of contributing to the wellbeing of future generations rather than simply producing knowledge for academic institutions.
The book also reinforced something that has appeared repeatedly throughout this paper: the importance of relationships. Research is not separate from people, place, or responsibility. It is connected to whakapapa, community, and accountability. This aligns strongly with how I understand my own practice. Whether I am making jewellery, creating garments, or undertaking research, the work is always relational. It is shaped by the people, stories, materials, and histories that surround it.
Looking back at where I started this paper and where I am now, I realise that this book has helped me redefine what research means. Research is no longer something that sits outside of me. It is not separate from my identity, my values, or my creative practice. Instead, it has become another way of understanding, caring for, and contributing to the world around me.
More than any other reading in this paper, Decolonizing Methodologies helped me understand that research is not separate from who I am, but another way of expressing, protecting, and contributing to the knowledge carried by those who came before me and those who will come after.
Week ten - whakawhanaungatanga: managing relationships
Shawn Wilson's text: Chapter 5 Relationality
Wilson, S. (2008). Research is ceremony: Indigenous research methods. Fernwood Publishing.
"Identity for Indigenous people is grounded in their relationships with the land, with their ancestors who have returned to the land and with future generations who will come into being on the land" (Wilson, 2008, p. 80).
One of the strongest themes throughout this chapter is that Indigenous identity is relational. Wilson shares conversations with Indigenous scholars, Elders, and community members who repeatedly return to the same idea: knowledge is created through relationships. Rather than seeing ourselves as separate individuals, we come to understand who we are through our connections to people, place, whakapapa, and community.
What I am finding as I move through these readings is that they are becoming part of the language I use to understand and articulate my own research. Many of the authors are approaching their work from different perspectives, yet there are recurring themes that continue to surface. Relationships, connection, accountability, whakapapa, and place are woven throughout much of the literature we have explored this semester. Rather than viewing these overlaps as repetition, I am beginning to see them as reinforcement. The more these ideas appear across different readings, the more confidence I have in their significance within Indigenous research.
This chapter also reminded me of something Donna said earlier in the paper: that these assessments would become a resource we could return to in the future. I am starting to see what she meant. As my research develops, these reflections are becoming more than assessment tasks; they are creating a collection of ideas, references, quotes, and connections that I can revisit as my thinking evolves. In that sense, the learning does not end when the assessment is submitted. It becomes part of an ongoing relationship with the knowledge itself.
Shawn Wilson's text: Chapter 6 Relational Accountability.
Wilson, S. (2008). Research is ceremony: Indigenous research methods. Fernwood Publishing.
Research is not simply about collecting information from people and then walking away once the project is complete. Rather, it is about entering into relationships and accepting the responsibilities that come with those relationships.
As I read this chapter, I found myself drawing parallels with Sarah-Jane Tiakiwai's discussion of research from a Māori perspective. In her work, she reflects on maintaining relationships with many of the graduates who participated in her research long after the project had formally ended. This reminded me that accountability does not stop when the thesis is submitted, the report is written, or the assessment is completed. There remains an ongoing responsibility to honour the people who contributed to the research and to represent their stories, experiences, and knowledge with integrity.
What I am beginning to understand through these readings is that Indigenous research is as much about how we conduct ourselves as it is about the methods we use. The quality of the research is not only measured by the findings, but also by the strength of the relationships that support it. This challenges the more transactional approach often associated with research, where information can be gathered, analysed, and published without any ongoing connection to the people involved.
For me, this chapter reinforces the idea that relationships sit at the centre of Indigenous research. It is not enough to simply complete the work. We must also consider our responsibilities before, during, and after the research process. In many ways, relational accountability feels less like a research method and more like a way of being.
Week 11 - research mechanics: formatting, referencing, editing nuts and bolts
Choosing my own readings for this week :)
Bobby Luke - Kākahu hou: The breath of cloth
Luke, B. C. W. (2021). Kākahu hou: The breath of cloth: Exploring the holistic essence of cloth and the lens through prescribed threads to which weave a braided universe of our ‘primordial beings’ (Doctoral thesis, Auckland University of Technology). Auckland University of Technology.
One of the things I appreciated most about reading Bobby Luke's thesis was finding a piece of research grounded in a Māori fashion and creative practice lens. Much of the literature we have engaged with throughout this paper has been valuable in helping me understand Indigenous research methodologies and theory, but Bobby's work felt much closer to my own creative world. As someone whose practice centres around kākahu, whakarākei, storytelling, and identity, it was refreshing to see these ideas explored through fashion, film, and creative production.
What made this reading particularly interesting was that Bobby is also a close friend. I have known many of the projects discussed throughout the thesis for years and have followed his creative journey from a practitioner perspective. Reading the thesis allowed me to encounter that same body of work differently. Rather than seeing only the finished garments, films, and exhibitions, I was able to understand the whakaaro, research, and cultural frameworks that sit beneath them. It gave me a deeper appreciation for the work and the intentionality behind each project.
Several concepts stood out to me. The idea of creative practice as a form of knowledge production challenged the assumption that knowledge only exists in written texts. Bobby demonstrates that making itself can generate, preserve, and transmit knowledge. I was also drawn to his discussion of whakapapa as a research method, particularly the way relationships between people, place, objects, and stories become central to understanding meaning. Finally, his concept of a counter-colonial style was especially thought-provoking. The idea that clothing can become a site of cultural expression, resistance, and identity speaks strongly to my own interests as both a maker and researcher. Together, these ideas reinforced for me that creative practice is not separate from research; it is a way of knowing, understanding, and engaging with the world.
Abdullahi Dahiru Umar & Nuhu Lawan - Critical Review of Postcolonial Theory of Homi Bhabha’s Hybridity: A Study of “The Location of Culture”
Bhabha, H. K. (1994). The Location of Culture. London: Routledge.
One of the ideas I found most interesting in Bhabha's work was the concept of the Third Space. While I initially understood it as a space between two cultures, I came to realise that Bhabha is describing something much more fluid. Rather than identities being fixed, he argues that meaning is constantly being negotiated through encounters, relationships, and experiences. The Third Space is where new understandings emerge, not from one side or the other, but through the interaction itself.
As I think about this, I could see some connections to my own research. My project explores the hononga between maker and kākahu or whakarākei, and how those relationships continue to shift. Like Bhabha's Third Space, meaning is not fixed at the point of making. Instead, it evolves through use, experience, memory, and connection.
At the same time, I found myself questioning parts of Bhabha's theory. While the idea of an in-between space is useful, it also feels quite abstract. Hononga, as I understand it, is not an anonymous relationship that can happen anywhere. It is grounded in whakapapa, whenua, people, and lived experience. The relationships I am interested in are specific and accountable. They carry histories, responsibilities, and connections that cannot be separated from place.
What I took from this reading was not necessarily a framework that perfectly aligns with my research, but one that helped me think more critically about it. Bhabha provides useful language for understanding how meaning is negotiated and transformed through relationships. However, the reading also reinforced for me the importance of keeping those relationships grounded in whakapapa and lived realities. For me, hononga is not simply an in-between space; it is a relationship that remains connected to people, place, and history, even as it changes over time.