From the Fringe to the Centre: Privileged to Stand in the Kaupapa
Opinion piece by Pou Whakawai George Kingi
Performing at Tamararo this year was layered. Physically, I questioned if I was even fit enough to be there after a recent injury. Emotionally, I felt on the edge, having missed the months of practices and the bonds the rōpū had built. Still, I was accepted in, carried by that “next man up” mentality from sport. I missed performing with my teina, but I knew I was privileged to stand in the kaupapa.
The moment that stayed with me wasn’t on stage, but it was during a practice run through of our bracket. Our kaitātaki wahine picked up my baby while leading a waiata. She grabbed his hand, encouraged him to wiri, and he smiled the whole time as he watched her sing. That simple act made me want to involve him more in kapa haka, to let him be surrounded by that sound, movement, and wairua.
On the day, I didn’t think about it being the one year anniversary of Kingi Tūheitia’s passing. Looking back, though, I see the honour in standing and performing haka and waiata that connect us to both Tauira mai Tawhiti and Tainui. There’s continuity in that, a thread of whakapapa binding us across generations.
This year also marks 50 years of Te Wiki o te Reo Māori. For me, an urban-born Māori who grew up with little engagement in culture, that milestone shows what stubborn aroha can achieve. Our kaumātua and kuia fought to keep te reo Māori alive when it was on the brink of loss. Because of their determination, my tamariki are now growing up in a world rich in te reo Māori. It’s proof that systems can shift when people fight for what matters to them.
Looking ahead another 50 years, my hope is that my tamariki and mokopuna won’t have to search for reo and that it will simply surround them. At home, in kura, in hospitals, on the sports field. Not an optional extra, but the everyday rhythm of life.
Kapa haka is a vital part of that journey. It’s where reo, tikanga, and wairua live together. Even when I feel on the fringe, kapa haka draws me back into the centre. The reo isn’t just spoken; it’s sung, shouted, and embodied. That keeps it alive for me and strengthens my connection to identity.
When I think about Tamararo, 50 years of Te Wiki o te Reo Māori, and Te Arikinui Kuini Nga wai’s first Koroneihana, they are all threads of the same story, a story of resilience and renewal. Tamararo shows kapa haka continues to evolve, Te Wiki o te Reo Māori proves reo is resilient, and Te Arikinui Kuini Nga wai’s leadership signals a future that feels fresh and accessible to rangatahi while grounded in tradition.
From language loss to reo revival, from kaumātua holding the line to tamariki laughing in reo, from the passing of a King to the first year of a Kuini, these kaupapa weave together to show that Māori culture is not just surviving but it is regenerating. My hope is that my babies inherit a world still full of awe and wonder.
