Toys for yesterday’s kids but no cash for te reo

Like someone valiantly chomping antacids to ward off that longdeferred heart attack, our dogged attachment to nostalgia is almost inspiring.

If someone had told me decades after my childhood we would still be shovelling money into the America’s Cup, Iwould have dropped my 12-sided, Dungeons and Dragons dice and laughed in their face.

Why are we still enduring this neverending ritual hazing: forking out cash, pleading to get a beating, ‘‘again please sir’’, with confetti-popper stuffed red socks? Just so we can hang out with the cool kids.

Sadly, the plucky underdog in this tale is of course reality. The nice-to-have gliding over the necessary.

Successive governments have been careless, tightfisted, and neglectful of te reo. Even as speakers died off, and knowledge was lost, governments watched, unshaken, as the barometer plunged with the speed of a shanked car tyre.

Letting awhare fall apart through neglect might be the opposite of burning it down – but somehow we as a nation have done both to te reo.

Any government with an eye to fast and meaningful gains should put aside a decent amount of cash for adults to leave work and learn te reo properly.

Fully subsidised, full immersion courses and a decent living allowance.

It wouldn’t cost too much, and frankly as was pointed out to me by Victoria University lecturer Vini Olsen-Reeder: adults have all the power.

Imagine how many adult speakers could be created with just some of the $136 million the Government is splurging on the America’s Cup.

Of course, the Cup, fuelled by champagne-and-bunting nostalgia, is a perfect example of the raw financial power of yesterday’s kids.

You can keep the Cup as far as I’m concerned.

I know when it comes to funding it shouldn’t be one or the other: but for Ma¯ori it’s always one and not the other.

Learning te reo as an adult, as I did, was an incredible experience. For everybody, but especially Ma¯ori who have never had their reo, it is life changing. If enough adults started learning, it would ultimately change our country for the better too. And quickly.

I’m telling you this out of my own personal experience – Imean, e kore nga¯ kupu mo¯ nga¯ wheako o nga¯ ta¯ngata pe¯nei, ara¯, nga¯ a¯konga pakeke, kua kuhu atu i nga¯ akomanga wa¯nanga o tewhenua, hei ako i te reo me o¯na tikanga.

He wheako mı¯haro, he wheako ho¯honu, he wheako tika. Ka¯ore e kore, ka panoni rawa koe i o¯u whakaaro, me to¯u oranga, a¯ tewa¯ ka hoki koe ki to¯ ta¯tou ao hurihuri ano¯.

Koinei te ahua o te ao, tae noa ki te¯nei wa¯: Na¯ te panoni o te tangata noa, i panoni te tini, i panoni te whenua – te ao ano¯ hoki.

Ko te raru, ki au nei, ko te tokoiti o nga¯ a¯konga pakeke i nga¯ wa¯nanga o te whenua i te¯neiwa¯ (ahakoa te maha ake o nga¯ ta¯ngata e pı¯rangi ana ki te ako i te reo).

He aha te take? Ko te uauatanga o te wehenga mai i a¯ ta¯tou mahi, hei ako. Ka¯ore e taea e te tangata te wehe mai, mehemea e pı¯rangi ana ia, ra¯tou ko ta¯na wha¯nau, ki te kai, ki te noho pai i roto i to¯ ra¯tou whare!

Ehara i temea he ko¯whiringa tika – he kai, he ako ra¯nei? Me ko¯whiri koe i te kai, ia wa¯, ia wa¯.

No¯ reira, he karere ta¯ku ki te ka¯wanatanga (ahakoa te toa o te po¯ti, hei te¯ra¯ marama): Whakaatuhia mai te moni – ki ama¯tou Nga¯iMa¯ori, ki a ta¯tou katoa; kia panoni tika ai to¯ ta¯tou whenua, otira¯, to¯ ta¯tou reo rangatira.

Mauri ora ra¯, e tewha¯nau.