By Dr Alex Barnes

Based on the foundations of Te Tiriti o Waitangi, ‘co-governance’ is framed as a way to disrupt unequal power relations, and restore justice between Māori and non-Māori. But questions remain about how te Tiriti-based co-governance is conceptualised and put into practice in education. Below are two takeaways.

My research position

I am a Pākehā graduate of the early kōhanga reo and kura kaupapa movements. The decision to get involved in Māori immersion education was based on my parents’ moral and political commitments to address injustice in these lands, broaden our worldviews, and become bilingual. This formative background led to a curiosity about how Māori and non-Māori beliefs about the purpose of education converge and diverge, and what the implications are for teaching and learning. My recently completed doctoral research continues this thread of curiosity: it explored what a Tiriti-honouring co-governance secondary school can ‘look and feel like’.  Below I share two key insights for leaders, teachers, and families.

 

1.     Moving beyond a fear of tokenism

The term ‘tokenism’ often comes up when Te Tiriti o Waitangi is being explored in schools and organisations generally. The standard story goes something like this: ‘I am on-board with Te Tiriti o Waitangi. I want to do my best by Māori students and their whānau. I just don’t want to be tokenistic!’

Fears of cultural tokenism hold a form of intelligence. To ask if our work to value mātauranga Māori is shallow, symbolic without substance, or inappropriate demonstrates critical reflection in action. Interrogating whether or not your actions are tokenistic will help to ensure they are not. This is uncomfortable but necessary and valuable work at an individual and collective level.  In my research I realised that regardless of how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the perceived actions of teachers and leaders are, if they are continuous in their attempts to break habits of monolingualism and monoculturalism, this is not tokenism. The point is this: little actions add up over time.

At a school-wide level, co-governance invites us to ask deep questions of ourselves and one another:

• Why is co-governance an approach we want to explore? What are the benefits for our students and school community? What are the challenges and unknowns?
• What does it look and sound like when Māori notions of ‘tikanga’ and non-Māori notions of ‘responsibility’ shape decision-making in the classroom and at leadership and board level?
• What is the difference between ‘integration’ and ‘assimilation’ of te ao Māori in teaching and learning? What might this look like and feel like in our context?
• What criteria would indicate we are succeeding or not? Who would be part of setting those measures, and why?

2. Enabling dialogue between competing concepts and discourses

I noticed that when two forms of educational authority are shared, Māori and non-Māori concepts about success are subject to processes of (re)negotiation and (re)conciliation. For example, terms like ‘accountability’ and ‘transparency’ become hotly contested. Māori and non-Māori leaders and teachers can hold very different assumptions about what these ideas mean in theory and practice. Sometimes people end up talking past rather than with each other about these ideas and practices.

In co-governance, the cultural assumptions behind good governance, leadership, teaching, and management are laid bare. They require a deliberate examination of what responsibilities and openness entail in teaching and learning, but this very examination strengthens the understanding and expression of the concepts. Sharing dual authority in education encourages and protects alternate perspectives about the purpose of schooling. It provokes Māori and non-Māori educationalists to consider ways of thinking and being together that counter uniformity and embrace difference. Power-sharing requires us to consider how, in a world of difference, we can live together.

The following questions can support schools to consider whether they may be talking past rather than with each other:

• Who is already walking this path and how can we learn from and share our experiences with them?
• How is the vision of ‘Māori succeed as Māori’ reflected in our pedagogy, content, community engagement, and outcomes?
• What adaptive changes could we make in the immediate, medium, and long term to ensure we are living up to Māori success in our setting?

Towards a flexibility of minds, hands, and hearts

The challenge and potential of working with different worldviews open up nuanced ways of making decisions for those we serve. Co-governance between Māori and non-Māori involves being committed to an on-going learning relationship. It is not a romantic or simplistic vision of power-sharing. Like any creative endeavour that challenges the status quo, co-governance involves a complex combination of risk, tension, failure, and positive potential.  My study found that co-governance in education is an imperfect but worthwhile invitation to all. It holds the potential to enable non-Māori and Māori to value and hold multiple perspectives about themselves and the foundations of education.