Ipukarea

Thea Mataiti (she/her)

Branches from the breadfruit tree outside had fallen. Coconut palms were ripped from the tree. My uncle posted three or four photos on his Facebook of a whole season’s worth of mangoes on the ground, blown off the tree. Useless now.

I am a proud Cook Islander from Aitutaki enua. My villages are Amuri and Ureia and my family names are Mataiti and Teokotai. I inherited my Cook Islands heritage from my father. I am papa’a (pākehā) from my mother’s side, her family names are Mace and Kirkus tracing back to Europe. I was born in Hamilton, and raised in Tokoroa and Christchurch. It is important you know my story, so that you understand that climate change will take away all of the things I hold dear.

I have had the privilege to visit my ipukarea (homeland) of Aitutaki four times. I hope that all Pacific people will be able to go back to their ipukarea, learn their stories, and experience home for themselves. To have the option to visit or to one day return as I know many hope to. Yet this dream may not become a reality for many of our Pacific people because of climate change.

I first learnt about climate change in the Pacific during a mock Geography exam in Year 12. The exam  was about sea level rise in South Tarawa in Kiribati.  I remember feeling overwhelmed, like my childlike  naivety had just been ripped away from me and replaced with thoughts of impending doom. I sat  with that feeling for a long time. While everyone else moved on with their day, I worried about my friend  from Kiribati and her family.

Sea level rise is an unavoidable reality for Pacific people and a devastating impact of climate change. How could something like the ocean that has connected our people for thousands of years now take our homes? It doesn’t feel right. The Pacific region contributes 0.03% of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions, however we are feeling the greatest effects of climate change and we are feeling them now. We have already lost entire islands to climate change, and yet we cannot be overwhelmed with our feelings of helplessness—we are not drowning, we are fighting!

Before starting university I spent a month in the Cook Islands with my dad and three of my siblings. About halfway through my time there I experienced my first proper tropical storm. The storm created strong winds and heavy rain. The house that we were in shook around us as the wind blew throughout the night.

The next day we were able to see how much damage the storm had wreaked. I can remember my cousin sharing that the sea had risen and almost reached their house—something that had never happened before. Once again my naivety was ripped away from me and I saw with my own eyes how climate change is impacting all of the Pacific, my family included. At the time, I did feel helpless, unsure of what role I could play in fighting climate change. I had forgotten though, the mana of my people.

My ancestors navigated the largest ocean in the world using the stars, wind, and birds. They settled some of the most isolated islands in the world against prevailing winds and currents. Voyaging as far as Hawai’i in the north, Rapa Nui in the east, and Aotearoa in the south. Brave enough to venture into the unknown, my ancestors were Warriors.

I was first introduced to the Pacific Climate Warriors by my sister. I listened in the background of her Zoom meetings for almost a year. She slowly introduced me to the team without me realising with birthday lunches, catch-ups after events, and impromptu photoshoots. She invited me to one of their Fala Chats earlier this year, not telling me I was actually going to have to share my own story at this event. My sister knew I wouldn’t want to go if I had known that—and yet I shared my story, and more importantly I was heard and respected. I finally realised the value of my story and how I can contribute to the fight against climate change.

A little bit of context for those not as familiar—the Pacific Climate Warriors (PCW) sit under 350 Pacific, and are a grassroots movement led by young Pacific people. PCW are active in 15 Pacific Island nations, with six diaspora teams in Aotearoa, Australia, and the United States. I am part of the Wellington team which was formed in 2018. The common goal amongst volunteers is to educate and challenge the narrative that the Pacific and its people are unable to fight climate change. This is far from the truth, as they have infiltrated education and policy spaces fighting for our Pacific people.

To move forward, we must acknowledge and challenge how climate change came to be. Capitalism, colonialism, and multi-million dollar corporations have contributed to the disastrous impacts being felt by the Pacific. People foolishly extract fossil fuels—a finite resource taken from the land without truly understanding the consequences. The Warriors fight against corporations that fuel this greed, and push for more sustainable energy sources of which there are many.

To me, the Warriors embody this fight, with passion, strength and resilience. We carry our elders with us into every space—our parents, grandparents, ancestors, teachers, and mentors. We channel them and their strength. We do this for those who cannot—activism after all is a privilege and a blessing, something I remember daily.

My relationship with climate change is not a scientific one. We don’t all need to be scientists to understand our environment is changing. Our relationship to land can be personal and it can go deeper than science. I want my grandchildren to be able to visit my mama’s resting place in the Cook Islands, and I want my papa’s house to not be underwater as the sea rises to engulf it. Saving the Pacific means saving the world we know for the generations to come.

I joined the Warriors because I am ready to be part of the fight. I will tell my own story and share who I am. I will listen to the stories of my peers and amplify them. I will keep learning and educating others. I will be a good ancestor and a brave Warrior—can you say the same?