'The missing piece': Rangatahi finds healing in reclaiming te reo Māori

At 25 years old, Rhoen Hemara (Te Rarawa, Te Māhurehure, Ngāpuhi) is part of a generation reclaiming a taonga that was stripped from his grandparents - te reo Māori.

Raised as what he calls "urban Māori," Hemara said that while te reo was absent in his household, tikanga and the values of whanaungatanga, manaakitanga and aroha were always present.

"Even though we didn't have te reo, we did have those strong binding values of Māoritanga in our whānau," he told RNZ.

Both of his grandfathers were fluent speakers. But like many from their generation, they carried the trauma of suppression.

On his mum's side, Hemara's papa was part of the stolen generation, beaten for speaking te reo Māori in schools, until he stopped using it altogether.

"He didn't pass on the reo to any of his kids, purely because of the trauma that was linked with it."

His dad's father was the same. Despite holding te reo Māori and tikanga, he chose not to pass it down, due to the impacts of colonisation.

"At that time, it was just more beneficial to be in te ao Pākehā. There wasn't much point in knowing te reo Māori or being immersed in te ao Māori."

That silence, he said, became a mamae carried through generations.

"You hear about it from other people, the intergenerational trauma, and when it comes to speaking te reo Māori, it hits them in the throat and they can't get it out.

"This year I definitely learned that. It's so true, it's so real. It's a mamae that you feel from generations before you."

It wasn't until Hemara attended university, where he was truly exposed to the history of colonisation, urbanisation and their effects on his own whānau.

"Once I realised the history and realised the mamae our people had gone through, it made me really want to immerse myself in te ao Māori and te reo Māori."

"I knew it was going to be a long journey, and it wasn't going to be something I could just do straight away," he said.

"It was going to be an ever-long journey.'

For years he carried the idea of full immersion, encouraged by friends who had studied at places like Te Wānanga Takiura, a leading kaupapa Māori immersion institution based in Tāmaki Makaurau. In 2025, he finally took the step and enrolled.

"It was daunting," he said, "literally drowning in te reo Māori. But I see the fruits in it."

Despite the massive challenges, Hemara felt at home.

"I've felt so safe at Takiura. Safe to explore and unpack all of the intergenerational trauma ... if anything, it has helped my reo to bloom and to bear fruit."

That safety, he said, came from the aroha and support shown from his peers and kaiako, who he now called whānau.

"We're all on the same journey. Some have grown up with the reo, some of us are only just stepping into it for the first time. It's not like trauma bonding, but in a way, we all understand the same mamae and we're able to awhi each other."

Through this haerenga, Hemara found a sense of belonging through new bonds and friendships, or as he put it, "best friends for life".

"All of us have come from different backgrounds, some of us being immersed in te reo Māori throughout our lives, and some of us where this is the first time we've ever stepped into a reo Māori space.

"With that range and with that diversity, it's really beautiful ... we're able to enter this journey together and know that no matter what, we're doing it together."

Te Wānanga o Takiura offered a variety of courses, aimed to immerse tauira in the richness of te reo Māori, Tikanga Māori, and Mātauranga Māori.

Hemara was one of many partaking in the one-year, full immersion Rumaki Reo course, where he would soon graduate with a NZQA approved Level 5 Diploma in Oral Māori Language Fluency.

He said one of the most significant milestones was standing to deliver his first whaikōrero, something he thought was once impossible.

"It was terrifying, probably the most terrifying thing I've ever done, but I couldn't have been more proud."

This moment was an "amazing achievement," he said, and a realisation that this journey was much bigger than him alone.

"I felt the love of my tūpuna, my whānau, my friends. And I realised I wasn't just doing it for myself, I was doing it for my whānau, for my ancestors, for my mokopuna that are coming."

This haerenga of reclaiming his mother tongue was just as emotional for his māmā. Watching her son speak the reo that had been stripped from her brought tears.

"It wasn't just her being proud of me, it was everything ... all of those intergenerational effects that had been bestowed upon our whānau, all of that mamae rising, not just for me, but for her too."

But this journey had also brought to the surface an endless amount of pride.

"Being able to hear her son, her uri, being able to kōrero in the language that was taken away from us, taken away from our whānau, taken away from our people."

Immersing himself in te reo had reshaped Hemara's world view.

"It has really changed the way I think, not just for myself, but as a collective. It humbles you, makes you empathetic, makes you think of those who have gone before and those yet to come.

"I know now the haepapa I carry to ensure the next generation is immersed in te ao Māori."

This journey had also brought him closer to his whakapapa, giving him the push he needed to reach out to whānau and learn more about his turangawaewae.

"There's so much wealth in knowing who you are and where you come from," he said.

"It's an incredible, incredible journey."

When asked what he would say to others on their reo Māori journey, or those contemplating beginning theirs, Hemara said: "Take that first step, and dive in."

"As someone who understands the trauma and the whakamā of going to learn te reo Māori, it is probably the best thing that you could do, not just for yourself, but for those who have gone before you and those that are to come."

For Hemara, that meant not just reclaiming his reo but pursuing a future as a kaiako, so others could do the same.

"Te reo Māori really was the missing piece to the puzzle. This journey has made me whole."

This article is part of an ongoing series by Māori news journalist Layla Bailey-McDowell, sharing the journeys of individuals reclaiming the taonga of te reo Māori and embracing their Māoritanga.

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