After nearly 20 years of telling other people’s stories, seasoned journalist Yvonne Tahana knew the time had come to tell her own. But, to do so, she had to step out of the newsroom and into the classroom to learn te reo Māori full-time.
“I got to two decades into my career and was like, ‘What’s the next thing for me?’” explains Yvonne, who spent the past 10 years as a 1News reporter.
“I love telling stories, but I think there comes a point as Māori when you just really want to tell and know your own stories, and I reached that point.”
She spent last year saving and planning, taking on extra work when possible to fund this year’s endeavour as a student in Te Wānanga Takiura’s total immersion Māori language programme.
“When I told [Te Karere broadcaster] Scotty Morrison I was going to study, the smile that lit his face was huge, and I was like, ‘I can’t actually speak it yet,’” laughs Yvonne.
“The support from everyone has felt big and beautiful, and I feel, overall, really lucky.”
Yvonne grew up in Sydney, moving home to Northland, the heartland of her iwi Ngāpuhi, when she was 10.
“I always knew where I came from,” she shares.
Struggling to find her voice in te reo Māori
Her sense of belonging was strong, but speaking te reo remained just out of reach. Despite doing various part-time language courses over the years and being able to follow conversations, speaking it herself felt like another world.
Yvonne recalls lamenting to former Labour MP Peeni Henare’s late father Erima, who once served as the head of the Māori Language Commission.
“I said to him, ‘I’ve done all these courses and can’t understand why I still can’t speak Māori.’ He replied, ‘There is a problem of connecting the arero [tongue].’ He was so encouraging, recognising the difference if you don’t grow up as a native speaker.”
Learning through patience and persistence
Now her goals are simple.
“I would love to be able to kōrero Māori in a conversational sense and to remember a waiata tautoko [support song after a speaker finishes].”
Yvonne is realistic, admitting that at times learning her language is overwhelming and exhausting, but says it’s also a lot of fun.
“My scary thing is kapa haka. I have two left feet and no rhythm, but I just have to realise it’s not the end of the world if I miss three actions.”
Not taking it too seriously
That mindset – not taking herself too seriously, being willing to stumble and try again – has been key.
“Te reo doesn’t have to be this super formal thing,” she reflects.
“Yes, it can still live there in a beautiful way, but it’s also an everyday language. “To make it a living language, it’s got to be fun so we can express whatever we’re feeling.”
As a child, Yvonne would listen to her nan – a native speaker – nattering away with relatives, wishing she was in on their conversations.
Yvonne laughs, “She’d ring up her cousins and I’d wonder, ‘What are they gossiping about?’ Turns out it was often just the price of milk or gas!”
Now it’s come full circle.
“I carpool in the morning with other tauira [students] – both are from up north – and the gossip is on in the morning!” she smiles.
Learning alongside a supportive community
Surrounded by a diverse and deeply committed group of classmates, Yvonne is inspired daily by her peers, teacher Gina Houia, the head of the school, Dr Tawhirimatea Williams and his wife, also a senior teacher, Dr Kaa Williams.
“All of those people in my class doing it for their whānau, they make me smile,” she shares.
“We’re so lucky to have Nanny Kaa and Tawhirimatea as kaumatua [elders], who love what they do, and still have that passion and purpose to continue to give and give. It’s beautiful to see, especially for those of us who have lost our grandparents.”
Te reo in everyday life at home
Yvonne is also starting to see the benefits at home with her 15-year-old stepson.
“He goes to high school in a rumaki unit [Māori immersion classroom]. When I pull out my lines at home, and there’s that understanding between us, it feels really nice because it’s not a learning environment. It’s just in real life.”
As for what comes next, Yvonne doesn’t know yet.
She explains, “I actually am keeping myself free on that because I don’t know what the future looks like. I think I need a job or purpose where I am speaking Māori. “I still love being a storyteller, but whether or not I stay in journalism, I’m not locked and loaded, and I think this time away might firm that up.”
