To Tatou Kupenga: Mana Tangata supervision a journey of emancipation through heart mahi for healers

This journey of critically exploring Mana Tangata supervision has drawn together the diverse styles, stories and analyses of three generations of tane from the Ruwhiu whanau. This is our journey within to strengthen without – ‘E nohotia ana a waho, kei roto he aha’. Pirihi Te Ohaki (Bill) Ruwhiu (father, grandfather and great grandfather) frames the article by highlighting the significance of wairuatanga, whakapapa and tikanga matauranga Maori – a Maori theoretical and symbolic world of meaning and understanding that informs mana enhancing engagements within the human terrain. Leland Lowe Hyde (son, grandson and father-to-be) threads into that equation the significance of ‘ko au and mana’ (identity and belonging) that significantly maps personal growth and development. Leland Ariel Ruwhiu (son, father and grandfather) using pukorero and nga mohiotanga o te ao Maori me te ao hurihuri weaves these multi dimensional reasonings into a cultural net (Te Kupenga) reflecting indigenous thinking around Mana Tangata supervision for tangata whenua social and community work practitioners.


Grandson and son and father-to-be, threads nga kupu o enei korero
(Abridged from Ruwhiu, L.L.H. (2009 unpublished)) Mana Tangata identity reinforcing a sense of belonging has been described and recognised as a prerequisite and determinant of Maori health and wellbeing (Durie, McCarthy & Te-Whaiti, 1997;Durie, 1997Durie, , 2001Hemara, 2000;Kingi, 2002;Pere, 1991). Subsequently, if Maori are to fulfill aspirations for a better future, then enhancing those characteristics of safe and strong identities with a rooted sense of belonging must be a priority for augmentation. Te Hoe Nuku Roa, a longitudinal study of 700 Maori households, includes a measure of identity and outlines key markers or indicators paramount for positive identities; recognising meaningful engagement with te reo rangatira, tikanga, kawa, whenua, nga taonga katoa, and whakawhanaungatanga as principle contributors to Maori identity (Durie, 1995(Durie, , 1998Tai, 1999).
Further, oscillations between secure and compromised identity are explained by a lack of meaningful access to cultural and physical resources (Durie, 1997(Durie, , 2001Ruwhiu, 1999), and any strategy promoting Maori health and wellbeing must account for, or at least consider, addressing this. I recently completed a research project involving a filmic journey exploring the identities of two South Auckland brothers as they reconnect to their whanau whenua. This was in response to both Jackson's (1998) plea for Maori to determine their own sense of ko au (identity), and Borell's (2005) assertions that rangatahi Maori are more than a cohort of problems for solving, changing and fixing but have their own mana (tiers of belonging). Subsequently, I engaged in a holiday research project that was entitled 'Ko taku rekereke ko taku turangawaewae'.
This offers viewers a real life and practical approach to exploring, understanding and responding to the development of Tangata Whenua identities and our sense of belonging. The written component of this research is a complementary description and discussion on the influence meaningful access to whanau whenua has had on, in this case, youth's identities, worldviews and perspectives; though it is not intended a surrogate for the wairua, mana and mauri emanated through the audio-visual montage of experiences also gathered in this research.

Whiti Whiti Ora ki te Whai Ao ki te Ao Marama Tihei Mauri Ora
'Ko taku rekereke ko taku turangawaewae' was the defining call of a paramount chief who, while leading his people away from a pursuing war party, turned and called to his warriors, 'the earth beneath my heels is the place where I will make my stand'. Responding to this chief's call for arms, hapu combatants turned, planted their heels, and readied for battle (L.A. Ruwhiu, personal communication, Dec, 2008). Fittingly, the research has drawn on these powerful words of sagacity to provide three premises for investigating the influence of meaningful access to whenua on Maori identity. Firstly, the participants descend from the tipuna immortalised in this oratory tradition of whakatauki; highlighting a rich history that precedes their being. Secondly, like the combat-ready warriors, the participants divulge the experience of planting their heels and carving out space and a place to make a stand; though context determines their battle. Finally, the experiences shared by the participants offers viewers a unique introspective lens into their realities and perspectives.
Ko taku rekereke ko taku turangawaewae has the potential and ability to contribute to a growing body of knowledge concerned with rangatahi Maori in areas including, but not limited to, identity, achievement, vitality and mortality (Barcham, 1998;Borell, 2005;Durie, 2001). Like the participant's ancestor, the wellbeing and safety of whanau must be a focus. Also implicit in the underlying premise of this research is an unrestrained acknowledgement for the value and coalescence of te ao nehera, te ao o naianei and te ao mo apopo. What follows next is a description and systemic deconstruction of some of the more obvious identity markers, derived from those in Te Hoe Nuku Roa (Durie, 2001) exhibited by the participants. This review of identity markers was derived from follow-up interviews with the participants during the editing of the filmic component of the research and though the markers are conveniently separated, most, if not all, are intrinsically connected.

Te Herenga Waka ki 'Kura 298': Papakura, South Auckland
Kainga: The physical home and property is recognised as the source of their distinctiveness. The graffiti displayed in the backyard hosts the participants' surnames and alias. They are exhibited on wooden plaques which suggest a supported attitude to the participants' skills. The state of their room fluctuates between orderly and untidy. They are continually reminded, at varying intensities, to keep a tidy room. Their room is a place of relaxation and rejuvenation.
Mara Kai: The family garden, run by 'dad', provides food. The garden is well kept and the siblings are not foreign to its maintenance. Growing and maintaining a garden facilitates a teaching/learning and working/rewarding relationship among family members. A cabbage is labelled a lettuce and a rhubarb plant is labelled a rhubarb sponge; a final product of rhubarb in the household. Perhaps a little longer in the garden will help with future distinctions.
Whanau: The siblings fail to film, but mention in subsequent discussions, their immediate whanau. This includes their parents, sister, brothers and niece. These whanau members are identified as having taught the participants different life lessons and having intimate knowledge about their personalities.

Wharekura:
The local secondary school is visited including landmarks to and from the school. They talk about 'scrapping' in 'Kirk's Bush', the local scenic forest. A culture of representing your school, suburb and ethnicity is evident during later conversations about school and extra-curricular activities. A focus at school is friends. The siblings report a number of negative experiences with teachers, other students, academic expectations and grade hierarchy (racism, sexism, preferential treatment were also mentioned).
Te Reo: The participants speak English and understand basic Maori. It's not 'proper' English, but one full of slang and street talk. 'Bro, chur, cuz and nigger'. 'Some things we say to each other may be offensive to others, but not to us, you know what I mean?' (D. M Ruwhiu, personal communication, Feb, 2009). Nicknames are common and are derived from one's persona and actions.
Hoa Apiti: The difference between friends and family is blurred. These relationships are intensified and broadened using telecommunications. A lot of independence and interdependence among friends is revealed. 'Hanging out' with friends is often preferred over time with whanau. Friends maintain certain perspectives and behaviour.
Papa Kainga: Traveling through Papakura, the participants identified the Recreational Centre as a place where they play basketball with their 'mates'. A local night club was identified as a preferred Thursday and Saturday night pastime. A police car prompted the participants to stop recording for fear of being pulled up. Clearly, a perceptual and reactive relationship exists between the siblings and police. There is a strong gang influence on youth to commit violent offences, use drugs, and disregard social laws and regulations. Also, Papakura is frequently referred to as their stomping grounds, safe spot (from other suburbs) and territory. Papakura is theirs, but it's not theirs.
Kai: The participants highlight Domino's Pizza, K.F.C., Wendy's and Woolworths as sources of food provision. Fast-food restaurants are easily accessible, cheap, quick, tasty, though unhealthy. 'You don't have to waste time cooking and you can quickly get back to what you were doing' (L.H. T Ruwhiu, personal communication, Feb, 2009). When posed the question, 'where does food come from?', the siblings responded, 'you buy it', and, 'the supermarket'. ISSUE 4, 2008 Ko au: One participant highlights graffiti as an integral part of his identity. The thrill, ability to create art, recognition and opportunity to represent a cause are highlighted as key augmenters of this behaviour. A lengthy discussion also revealed a blurred admission and understanding of the difference between vandalism and art. The 'thrill' is further described as graffiti in impossible places like high walls, overhead roadways and rival territories.

Te Herenga Waka ki Horoera: Whanau land, East Cost
Kainga: Both siblings take the viewer through aspects of the camp site. Correct tent assembly is classified as a 'bush Maori' attribute while their feeble attempts characterise 'city Maori' capabilities. This distinction becomes a recurrent theme across many activities on whanau land. Clearing scrub to make room for cooking facilities, digging tracks to and from camp, and constructing an 'eco' toilet (also known as a wharepaku or 'long-drop') out of planks, a toilet seat and a tarpaulin become the profession of the participants. All hard work aside, the view from, and of, their land is located amid proud and flattering comments by the participants.
Whanau: The participants were joined by a number of relatives they had not seen in a long time; from Rotorua, Pahiatua, Wellington and the South Island. Some mornings the participants would wake to find another set of cousins, having arrived during the night, sleeping next to them. The arrival of more whanau was well received as relationships were reestablished and individual workloads reduced with additional hands. The siblings found some of the hui about tikanga, whakapapa and whanau aspirations a little boring and irksome, stating they wanted to do other things instead, like hanging out with cousins (D. M Ruwhiu, personal communication, Feb, 2009). Still, when meetings were called both siblings attended and contributed 'out of respect' (D. M Ruwhiu, personal communication, Feb, 2009). And though both siblings felt hui were important for whanau, only one identified a reason why: an opportunity for learning. Living in Horoera as family compelled everyone to work together, spend time together and get over inter-personal differences.
Wharekura: Formal education was not identified as present during the participants' excursions in Horoera. However, upon further questioning into what they had learnt throughout their time there, it was admitted that the process of education had been taking place. Later discussion revealed that some children respond better to 'hands on' education while some respond capably to formal education. The lessons in Horoera included: finding, gathering, and preparing kai; planning, building and maintaining a campsite; the relationships between people, the land and across time; and appropriate tikanga and kawa attached to different activities such as digging a wet and dry pit for rubbish disposal.
Te Reo: A number of slang terms are present during the time in Horoera, though some cousins needed further explanation into their meanings and derivations. The landmarks, waterways, diving spots and whakapapa predominantly Maori were easily forgotten, though better remembered when accompanied by their history. Although both siblings were te reo speakers in pre-school (kohanga reo) and primary school (bilingual classes), they have since lost that ability. When asked whether they would take up te reo again in the near future, both replied that, at this stage in their lives, they did not see a need to -an interesting response given that their whanau actively promote 'Mean Maori Mean'.
Hoa Apiti: The participants missed socialising with their friends in Auckland. In Horoera, everyone was whanau and both siblings highlighted the need for breaks from family. 'If you spend too much time with them (family), you just get annoyed with them' (L.H. T Ruwhiu, personal communication, Feb, 2009). Discussion around whether bringing their friends to Horoera for a holiday would be fulfilling revealed that on more independent circumstances (ie, with their own vehicle and money) they might enjoy it, but under the present parentgoverned conditions they might not. Also, in Te Araroa, the capital of the East Coast, social events like the Christmas Parade and local touch tournament suggest that amity and camaraderie are key parts to community; consistent too with a number of social events and efforts in Papakura. Finally, a lack of telecommunications required meaningful face-to-face contact; meaningful in the sense that forgetting something required another trip to town that was over 8 kms away from their farm.
Papa Kainga: Throughout the participants' sojourn in Horoera, Te Araroa, the campsite, landmarks, river, beach and neighbouring homesteads became the scenes of daily activities. Both siblings commented on the natural beauty of these places but also the lack of people. Where hundreds pay thousands for seclusion and peace, they would rather be surrounded by people, even strangers. Another discussion revolved around earlier descriptions and perspectives about police. In Horoera they did not see any, though they assumed little reason such a small place would need them. The participants' ignorance of the ability and prominence of illegal drug operations both surprised and comforted me. When confronted with the issue both siblings denounced drug use, particularly on whanau land.
Kai: Kai in Horoera is different. Most kai is via the Four Square in Te Araroa or straight from the moana; mostly seafood. Unlike the convenience of a fish and chip store, the participants found having to gather their own food a more demanding experience. A fish and chip store has set open hours of service but getting a kai from Tangaroa involves watching tide movements, having good water visibility and knowledge/experience with the terrain. A discussion was also had around the mana associated with people who are able to harvest the sea and land.
Ko au: The participant who identified graffiti as an integral part of his being was only able to finger his alias on a dusty windscreen. Dialogue revealed that graffiti in Horoera is a waste of time because no one is there to see it and the land and properties are yours. There is little infrastructure to graffiti on and little policing or reputation-enhancing makes for little adrenalin and appeal. Also, because of the continual company of family, there was little promotion of graffiti. Instead of graffiti defining the participant, a proficiency in seafood gathering and whanau relationships characterised their being.

Some other identity markers included:
Rahui: Conservation was a recurrent theme across many of the activities in Horoera, although both participants struggled to see past civic and moral obligations to obey environmental laws. Further discussion revealed that monitoring the harvesting of seafood can guarantee future stocks. Also, the participants initially interpreted conservation as rubbish recycling and green waste composting. Some of these principles were embodied in the camp's waste disposal, eco-friendly toilet, and ragwort removal. Both participants gained a deeper understanding around the practice of sustainable seafood gathering and land-waste management. ISSUE 4, 2008 Rangi/Po: The participants and whanau moved at a unique pace. There was a time and season for all activities. Diving occurred during low tide, preferably during spring tides. Fishing occurred during low tides away from full moons. The day itself began with the rising of the sun and ended soon after its setting. Time goes by quickly because the day is filled with activities. No electricity, television or cell-phone reception restricted night activities to snacking and sitting around a fire. Both participants were able to consider the demands and lifestyles of their grandparents, captured in the phrase 'they must have been awesome ... man' (D. M Ruwhiu, personal communication, Feb, 2009).
Hahi: Church in Horoera was different to church in Papakura. It was a lot smaller and had a lot more old people. There were not many youth to mingle with but the whanau atmosphere was apparent in the shared lunch. The participants omitted showing the church in Papakura because they didn't think it was important. They revealed in later discussion that it was hard to live by church teachings. Friends do things the church doesn't agree with and restricts them from doing the same, putting distance between them and friends. Although both siblings were born and raised in the church, and supported by parents, the restrictions are sometimes overwhelming. Still, a number of friendships and opportunities for socialising were highlighted as positives to church attendance.

Te raranga kupu -Tikanga, Kawa, Hitori: Nga Hoki Whakaaro o te Whanau
Throughout the lives of these rangatahi a collection of experiences and impressions have been shared. Furthermore, relevant tikanga, history and whakapapa has been divulged during whanau hui and discussions. These threads locate rangatahi participants' whanau within the following hapu: Te Whanau-a-Ngai Tu Te Aru (Taitokerau); Te Whanau-a-Hunaara and Te Whanau-a-Iritekura (Tairawiti); Te Whanau-a-Ngati Pahauwera (Takitimu), Te Whanaua-Ngati Rakaipaewai (Manawatu). Subsequently, while the here and now colours their immediate sense of belonging and identity, in reality such threads of engagement spread not only to corresponding land, but also intergenerationally across time and space. The walls of instance collapse in the spirit of generations. Mana and ko au in combination challenges one to explore knowing who you are, what you are, why you are, when you are, where you are and how you are. And that is not an experience that one travels alone in discovering.
This contribution adds further to the whakatauki/proverb 'Ka pu te ruha, ka hao te rangatahi' ('when wisdom emerges, transformations occur' -translated by Ruth Makuini Tai, 2009, p. 9). 'Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata Supervison emancipation through heart mahi for healers' invites both supervisee and supervisor to enter into an older sibling / younger sibling (tuakana/teina) 'exchange of wisdom, into a transformative relationship based on strengthening one's worldview, on developing and enhancing leadership qualities, and on engaging in real emancipatory healing actions'. Such thoughts are paralleled in Turia's (2009, p. 2) speech to the Centre of Global Development in March: We must be resilient; we need strong relationships; and we need to understand each other's world views. We are the ones that will be demonstrating leadership in our communities as times become threatened. It is up to us all, to know that the solutions lie within us; that we can be responsible for setting our own direction forward We can do it, and we will. All of our composite parts -be it at the level of marae; at the level of community ownership; the level of national and central government; at agency levels, at individual level -we can take ownership of our direction and find our own shared goals. Some of you may be aware of the line from Norwegian playwright, Henrik Ibsen, 'a community is like a ship, everyone ought to be prepared to take the helm'. Whether that vessel is a waka, an outrigger canoe, an ocean liner or a dinghy the key is in setting a course onwards that plots out a journey to meet all of our needs. It is about determining our destiny, valuing everyone's perspectives and then setting forth and sailing.

Son, father and grandfather pukorero threads a Mana Tangata supervision weave:
Tihei Mauri Ora, Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervision Keeping home fires burning, brightly lifting earth to heaven, hearing ancestors stir a line unbroken, a pukorero shared, a gift to whanau recognized, a historical thread sown wealth unspoken the sea by karakia is calmed my matua lifts me up on tikanga strong my ukaipo nurtures a god spirit in infancy Tihei uriuri, tihei nakonako Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervison emancipation through Knowing culture, blending time, having real recollections a trial of faith, a measure of childhood, a praise from goodly parents, a whanau grown friendship within te moana nui a kiwa a cultural heritage waits my matua guides my child talk in te ao hurihuri my ukaipo grows inquiry that thirsts for Te Maramatanga Ka tau ha whakatau ko te matuku mai i rarotonga Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata Supervision emancipation through heart Killing times at university, brownless learning, hurting words of identity lost a defining moment, a fish out of water, a changing paradigm, a hate is quelled by knowingness wisdom now a tohatoha gift in kind a paua for a pear my matua saves by letting go, a tinorangatiratanga grace my ukaipo challenges personal core values a 'Te Atua' pause Koia i rukuhia manawa pou roto, koia i rukuhia manawa pou waho Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata Supervison emancipation through heart mahi Kingdoms are raised, baselines fuel Tangata Whenua theories, history speaks a candle light, a dark space falls, a word now owned, a contribution stands true with practice a navigator's role refined and tides bear few victims in such care my papa lives his code no flattery resides or incongruence is present in mahi whakamana my koka three days bore scorn an etched memory of her mana wahine Kia tina te morehu i Hawaiki Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervision emancipation through heart mahi for Kiwi to iwi, beauty in the eyes of the beholder, hearing people capture their words of empowerment ISSUE 4, 2008 a time of digging deep, a mood of owning one's journey, a belief we grow our answers inside, a dreamed painting wilted now that mesmerising current deep holds no sting of death my papa leaves his pukorero in the lives of others my koka drives a teacher's korowai in nga ara o te mohiotanga mo te Ao Aue kia eke, eke panuku eke tangaroa Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervison emancipation through heart mahi for healers Koro to son forever revolving, but papa to me, his frailty fails to hide his strength a hand that lifts, a mind that invigorates, a challenge that leaves one intact to do the hard yards wairua opens tangaroa wide and treasure trove is shared my papa rests my koka cries, 'Haumi e Hui e Taiki e' What resonates from the framing korero of Pirihi Te Ohaki (in Ruwhiu, 1999) in tandem with Leland Lowe Hyde   Of significance in this beginning form is the centricity of 'nga toka tohu whakamana e wha', used to anchor 'Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervision a journey of emancipation through heart mahi'. Te toka tuatahi weighs down on the importance of using metaphors in healing and support (Burns, 2001) of whanau Maori (Metge, 1990(Metge, , 1995Pere, 1985Pere, , 1991. Te toka tuarua weaves both traditional and contemporary wisdom into reconstructing a picture of 'heart mahi'. In arm with this picture of 'heart mahi' is the unfolding of human stories with hidden, unknown, submerged and transparent learnings. This process of unfolding our narratives is the third -Te toka tuatoru. It is important to note, that only the beholder/creators of those narratives can begin the process of unraveling especially if these are displayed in symbolic (either written, acted out, sung, painted or said) forms (Issac & Haami, 2007;Pohatu & Pohatu, 2007;Ruwhiu & Ruwhiu, 2005;Metge, 1984Metge, , 1986. Finally, the anchor 'Te toka tuawha' acknowledges the korero of 'he tangata, he tangata, he tangata'. It is people (beginning, middle and end). In using and unfolding pukorero, it is evident that significant others influenced the use of our directional life compasses, our diverse lived journeys, the formation of our unique moral values/beliefs and the development of, in this case, our practice principles underpinning Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervision. Each one of us can map those significant relationships as follows:

Hidden meaning in stanza form
Subsequently, given this understanding of 'nga toka tohu whakamana e wha', Te Kupenga -mana tangata whanau tautoko mahi' (Principled Mana Tangata supervision) is realised and manifested using the poetry form that I began with.

Line one: Tangata Whenua worldview and indigenous theories
The first line of each stanza anchors itself in similitude to my dad, Pirihi Te Ohaki's stance of painting a critical Tangata Whenua worldview (Royal, 2002;Ruwhiu, 2001aRuwhiu, , 2004a reinforcing the weaving of Tangata Whenua time that layers past with present and future (Metge, 1995;Patterson, 1992;Barlow, 1994;Papakura, 1986). This mode of understanding unravels many indigenous critical discussions about human support and helping endeavours through using one's own worldview and lived experiences as the initial framing, the first and foremost reality check, the foundational space of theoretical underpinnings, and the submerged often unconscious wisdom of knowing. In support, Royal (2002, p. 19) writes the following about worldviews: Finally, a worldview is something [that] lies deep within a culture and the individuals of that culture. In many instances, a worldview is often a 'given', an implicit set of impressions about the world that are often left unchallenged and discussed. Worldviews are invisible sets of ideas about the world that lie deep within a culture, so deep that many if not the majority of a culture will have difficulty describing them. Worldviews typically emerge and are challenged when cultures encounter and sometimes conflict with one another. The Marsden definition … draws the link between worldview and values. It shows that worldview acts as a 'base' upon which values are developed and acted upon within the behaviour of a culture. By understanding the worldview of a culture, we can come to an understanding of its values and thereby its behaviour.
Within the context of this article, Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervision rests heavily on understanding Tangata Whenua worldviews, and the influence these have on culturally centred indigenous theory forming practices and Maori time frames. Middleman and Rhodes (1985, pp. 48-49) reinforces such a view that competent supervision is all about making imaginative judgements and that this can only happen as: We shall identify our preference in world view (i.e our paradigm, our epistemology) as a metaview or frame of reference or metaphor or belief system, this world view influences our beliefs about 'being in the universe' and leads to 'the models' we pose. These models are created, first, within belief systems that prescribe a permissible 'reality' for each of us and, second, within the limits of what the 'science' of our age allows us to entertain as ideas (and thus, as actions).
In other words: 'Ko te ahi kaa mo nga kaupapa whakaaro, no te kainga -our home fires also burn brightly with theoretical flames' (Ruwhiu, 1995;Pirihi Te Ohaki Ruwhiu, personal communication, Aug, 2007). Warming ourselves theoretically from those fires within, on those fires fed by Tangata Whenua worldviews, counteracts those chilling undercurrents generated by turbulent seas of racism, oppression, deficit thinking, contradictions, compromise, conflicts, contestations and cultural prejudices. Similar tunes are echoed in Eruera's (2005) korero about 'Nga Uaratanga' that denotes the use of Tangata Whenua concepts to describes our values and belief systems. Furthermore, Pohatu (2003, p. 253) braced the developmental space of indigenous Tangata Whenua theoretical development under the heading 'Te Hangatanga Aria (theoretical framework)' and aptly contends that: Putting our bodies of knowledge and thinking into our kaupapa, permit Maori to evolve further as a people . . . Kaupapa Maori has been deliberately chosen as the main theoretical framework here, because it accepts the integrity and potential within Te Ao Maori.
This indigenous theoretical framework is built on cultural knowledge about dealing with various forms of mana. Mana is defined as power, prestige, authority, self-esteem, humility and acts as a cultural adhesive that binds a tangata whenua worldview together. Mana is the active power that impacts on mauri, that affects wairua, that reaffirms ihi/wehi manifestations and that is influential in determining tapu/noa states of being. This binding weaves the natural, human and physical terrains (Mead, 2003;Ruwhiu, 1999): in a meaningful manner. Broken down this whakatauki is explained as follows: Te Mahi Whakamana is based on reinforcing kaupapa Maori foundational ideation which challenges tangata whenua social and community work practitioners to put at the forefront of all that we do, our own cultural discourses, our own cultural framings, our own cultural stories, our own cultural perspectives, our own cultural worldviews, our own cultural paradigms and our own culturally determined theories of working with our people, in our environments. It is a principled approach that is all about using and addressing the diverse realities of mana that cements Tangata Whenua ways of looking at the world and engaging with it. In the natural terrain we have mana maunga, mana awa, mana roto, mana whenua, mana moana etc. In the human dimension, mana is evident in many forms -mana tangata, mana tupuna, mana wahine, mana tane, mana tamariki etc, etc. In the spiritual, ideological and philosophical terrain, mana atua resides (Ruwhiu & Ruwhiu, 2005;Mead, 2003;Barlow, 1994). Given that this cultural adhesive threads a person into a world of feeling, thinking and being Tangata Whenua, it is important to be cognisant of the warning 'kaua e whakaiti te mana i tetahi tangata a te wa kei hoki whakamuri ki a koe'. 'Care not to belittle the power and prestige of others, because in time that might well come back and bite you in the exterior' .
Furthermore, te mahi whakamana (Ruwhiu, 1995(Ruwhiu, , 1999(Ruwhiu, , 2003 focuses on three key processes of healing and supportive engagements. The first key process reinforces the importance of understanding that history speaks (Ruwhiu, 2003). Using 'Te mahi whakamana within Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision' involves taking time to historically understand and contextualise events, actors and our changing environments. The second key process is entitled 'the power of our words', or more inclusively, 'the power of our narratives' ). As mentioned earlier in 'nga toka tohu whakamana', unravelling our stories begins with giving ourselves permission to share in a safe space -te kupenga reinforces the gathering of not only sharing from the supervisee but also from the supervisor and all that both belong to. Finally, the third key process is based on the fact that every indigenous practitioner should make transparent their notions of wellbeing, wellness and welfare. In 'te mahi whakamana', six key thematic principles (Ruwhiu, 2006 unpublished, pp. 19-58 -parts have been abridged) provide a wellbeing borderline for Te Kupenga. That borderline is central to understanding the depth and states of wellbeing, wellness and welfare whanau Maori present.

The depth of Wairuatanga (ideology, philosophy, paradigms, theoretical conceptualisations)
Wairua should be a forefront consideration that traditionally was familiar to and regularly accessed by Maori to assist in healing; Wairua can be broken down to explore things that the whanau hold sacred, their prohibitions, their protocol around dealing with unhealthy and unclean things/issues; Wairua is dynamic, therefore changing, not a static phenomenon; Wairua opens up safe practice discussions; Wairua is also thinking through the trauma, pain and suffering experienced; Wairua involves identifying relevant spiritual gifts held by whanau; Wairua recognises that all things have a spiritual identity and part of the task is to check out whether these are healthy, helpful, negative or dangerous for whanau wellbeing; Wairua, invokes korero about the ideologies of Tangata Whenua, in this case those held by both the supervisee and supervisor (pp.

The depth of Hauora renamed 'Mauri Ora' (levels of wellbeing)
The dynamic realities of humanity are reinforced by the thematic ingredient of 'Mauri Ora' covering all dimensions of physical, mental, emotional, recreational, health promotion and education realms of wellness and wellbeing (Kingi, 2002;Durie, 1984); Mauri Ora, inclusively addresses all spheres of reality (natural, human and spiritual terrains); Consequently, whanau is the social structural entity that is weaved together by whakapapa while Mauri Ora, provides a pulse to measure the health and wellbeing of those members of that human gathering place (Durie, 2005;Hirini & Collins, 2005;Riley, 1990) (pp. 39-45).

The depth of Mana (respect) Mana increases and decreases under certain conditions, is about power and prestige and is expressed in many forms, Mana atua, mana moana etc.
Mana is the outcome of living Maori qualities, values and beliefs such as aroha, utu, awhinatanga etc, and is affected by changing environments; Mana is something that one needs to be aware of so as not to trample over, as the consequences are felt through the generations; Mana although intangible is often a gauge of self esteem and links to the korero about being the cultural adhesive that binds the Maori worldview together; Mana can be enhanced, nurtured, strengthened and used to bless others (pp. 46-51).

The depth of Ko au (identity & interconnectedness)
Ko au adds to self worth and is based on using Maori thinking, Maori paradigms, Maori worldviews and Maori discourses to develop one's cultural identity; Ko au enhances transference of cultural knowledge wisdom and experience; Ko au provides a relational analysis of the natural (Te Ao Turoa), human (He Tangata, he tangata, he tangata) and spiritual dimensions of reality (Te Ao Wairua); Ko au is often used to measure the depth of one's own understanding about identity and the interconnected world of whanau Maori (pp. 52-58).
Interwoven, these three specified processes: having a historical analysis, understanding the power of one's own narratives and articulating a thematic framework on wellbeing (Ruwhiu, 2003 are pivotal to what Eruera (2005) and Walsh-Tapiata & Webster (2004) describe as a tuakana-teina assessment, healing and support engagement unmistakable in Te Kupenga -Mana Tangata supervision. In addition to their whakaaro, this 'tuakana-teina' relationship is unlike the 'supervisor-supervisee' power dyad which places a premium on 'guided senior support'. Instead this culturally recognised relationship places priority on notions of reciprocity, role reversal, shared mana enhancing learning, advocacy, planning, guiding and whakapapa responsibilities (Walsh-Tapiata & Webster, 2004;Webber-Dreadon, 1999;Bradley, Jacob & Bradley, 1993;). Learning, teaching, sharing, supporting, challenging, transforming, enlightening, growing and sharing burdens is a two-way street: for example, tuakana can well be taught and 'given' understanding from teina. One prime illustration of this tuakana-teina (younger/older) relationship was provided during a fish and diving excursion -Labour Weekend 2008 back home in Horoera.
Leland Lowe Hyde asked his grandfather Pirihi Te Ohaki how the Kehe (rock cod) could be caught. His grandfather described the process of 'koko kehe'. That traditionally involved using a woven kupenga similar in shape to a longish hinaki. This would be placed at the end of channels and then long poles would be used to wack the rocks and prod the seaweed to chase the kehe into these traps. Leland asked if kehe could be caught by fishing rods. In response to this his grandfather replied that they have never been known to take bait off a line, because their main diet was the seaweed. Not deterred, Leland used a fishing line off Tauwhenu (rocks) at Horoera and caught two kehe. A myth was broken and learning had been shared from younger to older (Leland Lowe Hyde Ruwhiu and Pirihi Te Ohaki Ruwhiu, inter-personal communication, October 2008).
'Emancipation through heart mahi for healers' reminds those of us engaged in tuakana-teina mana tangata supervision that our practice tools of analyses should lead to our own 'conscientisation' concerning those things that oppress or act as barriers to our mahi with whanau Maori. Freire (1972, pp. 8-96) maps out significant undercurrents that should strengthen the delivery of this form of emancipation-centred supervision: Pedagogy of the oppressed refers to a pedagogy which must be forged with, not for, the oppressed in the struggle to regain their humanity, to obtain their liberation. They must be the developers of this pedagogy, which first deals with the problem of the consciousness of the oppressed and the oppressor. They will need to know that the pedagogy of the oppressed is an instrument for their critical discovery that both they and their oppressors are manifestations of dehumanisation. For the oppressed to be able to wage the struggle for their liberation, they must perceive the reality of oppression, not as a closed world from which there is no exit, but as a limiting situation which they can transform. This perception is necessary, but not a sufficient condition by itself for liberation. It, must become the motivating force for liberating action. Neither does the discovery by the oppressed that they exist in dialectical relationship as antithesis to the oppressor who could not exist without them, in itself constitute liberation. The oppressed can overcome the contradiction in which they are caught only when this perception enlists them in the struggle to free themselves . . . that no matter how ignorant or submerged in the 'Culture of Silence' a person might be, each was still capable of looking critically at his/ her world through a dialogical encounter with others. Consequently, when provided with the proper tools for such an encounter, one would gradually perceive one's own personal and social reality as well as the contradictions in it. This would lead to becoming conscious of one's own perceptions of that reality, and then focus on how to deal critically with that awareness.
Coined in another fashion, 'pedagogy of the oppressed' infers both heart and mind working in sync with each other: blending culturally grounded and founded intellectual sharpness (indigenous critical analyses) about how we view the world within our mahi as Tangata Whenua social and community work practitioners while at the same time not forgetting about the centricity of passion and feelings linked to 'just being Maori'. In conclusion, Te mahi whakamana demands that we understand the promptings of 'a Maori spirit, a Maori heart, a Maori soul, a Maori mind, a Maori critical eye, braced and bounded together by Mana'.

Lines three, four & five: Pukorero -life patterns and coded historical learning
These three lines of each stanza, provides coded historical pukorero/narratives with hidden learnedness of our own human experiences. Shakespeare, in his play As You Like It (Act. 2, sc. 1.1.15) enshrines that same power of our own narratives as follows: . . tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones and good in everything (Dusinberre, 2006, p. 46) As indicated in 'nga toka tohu whakamana e toru' the unravelling of these stories is something that only the storyteller can begin. Subsequently, Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision creates a space where both tuakana and teina enter into dialogue that supports decoding learned messages from one's own pukorero for the purpose of strengthening and promoting best tikanga when working with whanau Maori. Paniora (2005, pp. 2-3) reminds us of the power of understanding the depth of our own pukorero by stating: … sometimes we get so caught up in academia that we forget the power of the korero … the korero allows the teaching to be achieved by using real life experiences … should we not have deep and meaningful korero to set us on the path to the realisation of significant occurrences.
Both participants in whanau tautoko mahi have a right to learn from each other. The supervisor is not always the tuakana in this form of collaborative supervision. Participants bathe in the depth of human experience, knowledge acquisition, length of service, historical learning and whakapapa dynamics as messages of life from the 'tongues in trees, books in running brooks and sermons in stones' are made transparent, demystified and shared for improving worker currency in mahi with whanau Maori. It shifts the pukorero as Paniora (2005) contends from not only talking the talk but walking it as well.

Lines six & seven: It is people, it is people, it is people
Finally, lines six and seven of each stanza reinforce the whakaaro implicit in 'te toka tuawha'. People are influential role models, even conduits in passing on critical thinking, ways of engaging and key genetic cultural intellectual property. Rangihau (1967, p. 5 a larger community and he was not an individual persona and everything that he did was dependent on how the group looked at it and censures which were given him were given him on the group angle and for a long time he did not realise that this was such a potent force that he had to talk to people and in terms of the total community. He could not individualise anything that he did, so this was one of the first concepts as he saw it, that the Maori spoke of himself as 'I am we' rather than the usual manner of other people which 'I am I'. That first concept as he saw it was a concept of people working, living, playing and laughing together, of everything being down for the group and that each individual member was only looked on as a part of the group and he felt that this was the most vital thing so far as he was concerned about Maori culture. The creation of 'Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision' can be paralleled to the wisdom gathered from significant others, concerning the tides and rock/reef/habitat contours of the sea, the construction of and usages of a fishing net, the seasons and feeding habits of numerous fish species in the sea. That and other forms of knowledge and wisdom resides in the home of humanity. Therefore 'people' are holders of that information gathered over years of living research. In the context of Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision and in similitude to the echo of Whaea Louise Elia (2009: unpublished) these threads of both living personages and those who have passed on, continue to be instrumental in our own understanding of both the role and function of supervision for whanau Maori in our profession.
In the lived words of my karani 'tohitia taku pou, ki te whenua, kia whai ngako ai'. Therefore I ground my theory and models of supervision on my growth and development from a mokopuna at the feet of my karani to becoming a wahine toa in supervising Tangata whenua.

What is captured in 'To Tatou Kupenga'?
These diverse styles, stories and analyses of three generations of tane from the Ruwhiu whanau when woven together, provide a cultural net (Te Kupenga) that contributes to understanding the dynamics of supervision for tangata whenua social and community work practitioners. Using this metaphor of fishing with Te Kupenga let's look at the learning contents of that net after pulling it out from the depths of tangaroa to the shore.

Compliance or growth
The first captured learning addresses a perception surrounding supervision and organisational compliance for funding. Compliance is not the centre of attention in providing Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision. As children are nurtured so should practitioners. But likewise as they grow up in the profession, in similitude to adolescence, young single adulthood, young parents and finally mature parents, the need for continual exposure to supervision on a regular basis also changes. If the aim is to strengthen our own development as indigenous social and community work practitioners, who not only know about tinorangatiratanga but also strive for this in our practice, then surely there comes a time when we become navigators of our own waka. This does not negate supervision but does challenge the thinking that routines should continue to be standardised, for example, one hour of supervision each week is strongly tied to funding relationships between the organisation and outside, often government, funders. Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision places tino rangatiratanga or self-determination as a key priority in this supervision journey. As parents we framed much of what our children experienced, but as they move into adulthood our roles shift and change as they claim their own voices in naming their spaces of engagement. Supervision as a lived phenomenon is not devoid of such shifts and changes. This does not negate the importance of supervision but reemphasises that power of people creating real opportunities for growth without the very nature of this space being governed by funders.

Methods of engagement
The second captured learning is that emancipation activities should be a significant component of supervising Tangata Whenua practitioners. Imaging through using metaphors, symbols, patterns, designs, objects, poetry, song and story telling etc, are recognised methods of transferring to future generations our cultural intellectual knowledge and wisdom. Subsequently, these should be used in Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision. It is our view that such learning and sharing skills are often parked up. The challenge is to facilitate creativity in our social and community work fields of practice through Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision by using such skills that invigorate and simulate transference of wisdom in healing. Recently, I was involved in a whanau wananga held at home in Papakura (July 09). The focus of this event was to create pounamu taonga within the Ruwhiu whanau. Facilitating this event was my first cousin Te Kaha. This 'three-day journey', into takutaku, karakia, tikanga matauranga, whakapapa, huihuinga and mohiotanga, accumulated in the emergence of six beautiful taonga pounamu (four chisels -whao pounamu, one mere pounamu and one pendant -whao taonga). However, other significant gifts came in the form of pukorero during all the processes of those entire three days, including, mihi whakatau, whakatohatoha, pukorero, kai mahi, hui a whanau, etc. I have two of those taonga pounamu with me currently and already these have graced a supervision session to facilitate emancipation using our sense of touch to advance wairua healing.

Places of healing
The third captured learning centres on those types of settings that can facilitate healthy supervisory experiences. Central to this learning point is a belief that Tangata Whenua irrevocably connect through whakapapa to 'Te Ao Turoa' (the natural terrain). Knowing this whakapapa connection preempts the view that there are spaces/terrains where we go to for healing, to correct ourselves, to rebalance, to revitalise, to contemplate, to get closer to our atua, to be challenged, to gather ourselves, to rest, to share, to learn and to teach. Not all of these places are situated within the work environment.
My whakapapa links me to both the sea (Te Moana-nui-a-kiwa) and the hinterland (Te Ngahere o Tane-Mahuta). It is therefore not surprising that settings involving activities of gathering, cleaning, preparing and eating kai moana or those activities embedded in hikoitanga through the contours of our own 'nga ara taumata, papakainga, haukainga, nga maunga on papatuanuku or via bathing in waitai, wairere, wai ora, wai puna, waiwera, are highly valued in this supervision framework for replenishing not only our bodies but also our minds, hearts and souls. That acknowledgement also comes with a warning. Mana can be trampled on and/or can impinge on others' forms of mana, so be clear about using these spaces for supervision. This again reminds us of those three outlined processes inherent in 'Te mahi whakamana': critiquing history, telling our narratives and being transparent about those wellbeing principles that should guide any decision making about siting supervision in a particular space/place/terrain.
There are other pseudo-healing spaces that I can identify and have used for such support. In 2002/03, I was part of a group of tane Maori who used the Lido heated spa pool in Palmerston North to gather for whanau supervision. This space was chosen because to participate we had to strip down to our bare essentials in terms of clothing (symbolically ridding ourselves of our own inhibitions) and while our physical bodies were being nurtured in those healing soothing waters, there in roopu mode our wairua, whanau and hinengaro needs were also being addressed: in essence strengthening our abilities to advance best indigenous practice with whanau Maori. In more recent times, Riki Paniora and I have carved out supervision time together that involves the entire process of having a meal, patronising a movie theatre and spending time debriefing after that experience. Choice of movie and eating establishment adds to the nature and function of our supervision session with each other. It has not limited our abilities to critically explore how best we might process our practices to improve our professional delivery to whanau Maori.

Tangata Whenua time
The fourth learning captured within Te kupenga is grafted from all three contributors to this article. Pirihi Te Ohaki weaves the past, with present and future. Leland Lowe Hyde measures the power of identity and belonging as indicators of wellbeing through developmental time and I sight the significance of placing our view of time within our cultural paradigms. Therefore, in relation to supervision, time as the governing factor of life can not be isolated from its cultural realities. Our contention is that regularity and consistency of Mana Tangata supervision comes not in set times but rather in the right of passage to seek such support as and when required. That supervision might be an hour, five minutes via telephone korero, and/or even days of being involved in cultural activities. The learning captured here reflects a perception of value not in length of time but rather in quality and cultural sustenance/clarity obtained from that contact. Real experiences of filling up one's depleted reservoirs are not just manufactured times of dealing with administrative, pastoral care and/or professional development issues but appear in Mana Tangata supervision to be more about heart/soul mahi using 'Tangata Whenua time'.

Guided or guiding
The final learning from 'Te Kupenga' is that there are times when those coming into supervision will be active in determining what is covered in supervision. However, that tuakanateina experience could also mean that supervisors need to act when it is necessary to do so, to take hold of the power reins and lead. This was displayed in an experience I had as a hoe waka student of Te Wananga o Aotearoa -Papaioea Campus. In June 2004, a reading by Carlos Andrade on Aotearoa to Samoa: 1986 -One memorable stormy night with Mau and a song, was presented for us to critique. What follows is my interpretation of its significance in regard to how we engage with each other in supervision.
The most significant aspect of this article was the way in which a very experienced navigator Mau Piailug (a master navigator from Satawal -Caroline Islands of Micronesia) mentored and supported the blooding of a younger Hawaiian navigator Nainoa by not interfering with Nainoa's efforts to navigate for the first days and nights of the voyage. However, when the time came to act Mau did so quickly (told those on board to stand watch and to take down all the sails) even though those on board weren't aware of any immediate pending danger. The crew came from a range of islands and experiences, but did not hesitate to follow his commands. Implicit in this korero is reference to good mentoring and also the importance of allowing those less experienced to experience more learning to increase their experience. The respect principle is also obvious with no one discounting Mau's advice. Soon after they had taken down the sails gusts of winds 40 to 60 mph blasted the sea and that lasted for 20 minutes. This waka could have easily sustained major damage or even capsizing putting the welfare of those on board in danger (Ruwhiu, 2004 unpublished).

Conclusion
In summary, our contribution adds to, consolidates and re-emphasises cultural wisdom shared by Eruera (2005), Walsh-Tapiata & Webster (2004), Wepa (2004), Pohatu (2003), Webber-Dreadon (1999), Bradley, Jacob & Bradley (1993), Ohia (1986) and Mataira (1985), all indigenous practitioners/writers/theorists on this kaupapa of Tangata Whenua supervision. While our metaphors might well differ, the binding theoretical threads of kaupapa Maori embellishing our views of the world, our ways of engaging with others, mapping clearly our aspirations of healing, being cognisant of our cultural time frames and using our places of healing, reassures us that we indeed have patterns of supervision for Tangata Whenua social work practitioners in Aotearoa. This mapping of 'Te Kupenga Mana Tangata supervision a journey of emancipation through heart mahi for healers' is our contribution about caring for healers. Naming our pattern of supervision has been like returning home and really taking time see those things within that strengthen us in our practice outside with whanau. Te Waka Tapu o Tamatea-Ariki-Nui completes this circle of inquiry metaphorically displaying the importance of being grounded in one's 'culturalness' as service of this nature is provided. I remember well savouring those last few moments pondering over our twelve hour arduous sojourn from Whanganui O Orotua/Napier as a brother kaihoe on Te waka Tamatea Arikinui o Takitimu, moments before we entered the malay and rising crescendo apparent where Te Moananui-a-kiwa met face to face with Te Awa o Wairoa. We waited, alert, ready, minds in sync for those commands to dig deep, to feed our paddles, to move te wai. A karakia above for safety was sent. Tangaroa gave in return Te ngaru e whitu, a kingly crested wave that surged forth. Kaihautu commands chilled the air, Kia rite, kia rite, te waka hoea! The hundred and sixty hearts of Kahungunu pumped as one, all muscles flexed and coiled then sprung in unison. Guttural chants of yesteryear lifted to fever pitch, as time and time again hoe dipped in deep and systematically ripped open the belly of Te Moananui-a-kiwa. As if on the wings of Te Kaahu over the submerged sand banks Tamatea flew. Nothing stopped its quest to enter the mouth of Te Awa O Wairoa. The imprint of Tu on all in the waka could well have led to our demise, until a royally clad kuia, knee deep in surf, whose wisdom cascaded from a piercing call supported by many others along the cliffs, quelled the rage of men and gods. Tataa and hue both fulfilled their support roles as we regathered ourselves within. Well spent the energy of Tu, as Rongo took the lead. We glided into the inner sanctuary of Te Awa O Wairoa. Still waters left the breakers far behind. Our waka remained firm, safe and strong. Haumi braced well by rauawa whakairo immersed all present in whanau, hapu and iwi whakapapa, human binding as one. Eagerness was measured by hypnotic rhythm as we moved Tamatea quickly up river towards Takitimu Marae. Thousands waited for our arrival, both bridges and riverbanks spaceless. Their roar of humanity lifted our weariness. Our souls rejuvenated. Our tinana primed for the final feat. And then the call came, Te Waka Pehia, HI! Stillness, silence, soft stillness, sacred silence, breathtaking stillness, honourable silence followed as Tamatea halted mid stream: our sinews taut, paddles locked in, holding the waka still, deep in the breast of Te Awa O Wairoa. A Moment, a defining moment, a significant moment, a monumental moment, and tears flowed from heaven as wairua claimed the day and people wept. E nohotia ana a waho, kei roto he aha -a journey within to strengthen without! Finally, we are home.