What I wish I knew before I started weaving

Taking up the courage to touch harakeke is a brave thing for anyone. Here are a few things I wish I knew before I started this journey, hopefully it helps you. 

The karakia, growing up in a Māori household but disconnected to my reo created a endless sense of not being Māori enough. My dark hair and brown skin made me stand out as Māori but without the language the deep sense of self hatred filled me whenever reminded. I was terrified when one day talking to a family member about whether we could harvest when it became shamefully apparent that while I had been taught how to harvest harakeke I did not know about 'the karakia' that was required before cutting. I felt a heat of shame rush through my child body and I did not dare harvest again for 20ish years until 2020 Covid lockdowns. 

In 2020 during Tāmaki Makaurau endless lockdowns I found myself anorexic, destroyed, depressed and through force of survival I ended up on a healing journey. There was a calling to harvest harakeke, at the time I called it flax but knew that there was a indigenous name for this plant. Afraid but determined I held on the the hope that my child lessons and intentions to grow would guide me. Shamed but grateful a harvesting karakia was sourced from uncle google, quickly written on my hand. I collected a sharp knife and mustered my intention that this harvesting journey was going to help connect me to Papatūānuku. I had an idea that the leaf would tell me what it wanted to become. 

What was born was my first hīnaki a tūna catching basket. A traditional kai catching basket had come from my hands. Hands that belonged to someone who did not know te reo. The familiar place of deep pain and searching for self love and healing were now intertwining. I felt pride in myself that my heritage came through and filled the emptiness that was my fear to reconnect to Māori tikanga and kaitiakitangata. I knew that my journey was here for the time being and it is to share with you. 

What we did not have in te reo we make up for in creativity. In my line, tāne and wāhine both kept raranga. We also have carvers who through my persistance have agreed to hand down some basics so this skill is not lost to our generation. if no one picks up the interest, the skill could be lost. So for my whanau raranga is treated as something useful and not seen as 'womens work'. Raranga is work all the same, my koro Chappie was a famous kete weaver in his day. Having this knowledge in connection to my identity as takatāpui has helped me create safe spaces for myself and others to take up the lessons of raranga. And if we look back and think about hunting, fishing and ikura there were times when the 'women' would not have been there to make paraerae (māori sandals), fix the nets, make a rope or craft a rourou (food basket). These are all things I believe everyone would have learned to get through life as a society. The role of gender in weaving is also something I mahi towards returning towards matauranga. This topic is very large and will need to be fleshed out later by me and hopefully others in the community.

• That you can harvest harakeke if you do not know or are not fluent in te reo Māori. 
• I wish I knew how satisfying and identity affirming working with harakeke would be and seeing the satisfaction in tauira faces when they create whenu and extract harakeke jelly is the same as I felt.
• Is that its ok to start this journey at any time in your life.
• Its ok to of walked away or never known this matauranga and have a calling to reconnect and to practice raranga.
• I wish you all to know that tāne, wāhine, takatāpui, cis, pakeha, tauira, polynesian all of us gender and history can learn form this plant and heal along side it.
• Take up the intention within you if it calls to harvest.
• Ask questions seek out the karakia and attend wananga in your area meet others who are working in and for this beautiful mahi toi. 

 

 

-

Ahi Nyx