Manatu

P3ATO

I was raised in my Grandparents’ house. The walls clothed with pictures of scholars and gangstas alike, and the cupboard holding Mi Goreng noodles and Taiyo tin fish. A sacred centre to many, with no shortage of alowha, space, or mink blankets— with the tigers g, you already know.

My grandparents’ house is built on foundations of alowha, in it’s different forms; unconditional love, tough love, annoying love, and smash your face kind of love.

Like many others before and after them, my grandparents ventured to this land in search of the sweet wealth of opportunities available in this supposed land of milk and honey. They worked hard cleaning offices and panel beating, so that their next generations could reap the harvest. They opened doors for me, which never existed for them.

My grandparents keep me on the path. Just the thought of them and their voices on a Sunday evening induces the same feelings of warmth and comfort that they emulate. It sounds like fish frying on the stovetop, my grandparents cackling as they slam dominoes on the kitchen table, and the Tokelau radio station booming in the background.

My grandparents’ perspectives are best illustrated by their own lips. Two of my grandparents most frequent sayings/ lectures include: “Tokaga ki te aoga, ma makeke oi whano ki na lotu...” Commit to your education, and try your best to attend church... “Te tamaiti e uhitaki ki ona matua, e whakamanuia e te atua.” The child who obeys his parents is blessed by God.

They’re always dropping these lowkey pieces of wisdom, just at random times. I often hear them but don’t really pay attention. They like to constantly tell me “go to school so you can get a good job”. It sounds straightforward, but it actually paints a larger picture of how further education acts as a catalyst for social mobility. My grandparents have a very strongly held perspective regarding education, namely western education. They tell me that it’s the path to finding a better future, impacting not only me but also younger generations of our family. In a way, it feels reminiscent of the journeys they both took in migrating to New Zealand —though to a lesser extent, of course.

Early mornings and late nights, I was a good college student. I was a head student (ugh) and secured a couple scholarships to attend university. But in spite of those accomplishments, I recognised in silence that I was never made for school. Every time I struggled academically, every time I took a look at my city, and every time I turned on the tv, the sad fact hit me harder than an eight-seater family van; that someone like me isn’t made for the academic world.

I still enrolled at uni with my tank running on E for expectations. After my first trimester at uni, I made the decision that, like college, uni is shit and I wanted a break from New Zealand’s education system. I sat down with my grandparents and told them what I wanted to do. Long story short, they told me no. So I stayed studying, though not so much for myself.

Towards the end of my second trimester of uni, my Grandpa passed away. As well as much sadness, his passing also brought about a season of reflection. During this time, I thought about his words of guidance and encouragement. I unpacked every word, every facial expression, and every inflection to understand what piece of wisdom he’d shed on my situation or which direction he’d point me in. Amongst other things, I learned during this reflection that I was never running on empty expectations, it was always empowerment. I only felt pressured because at a time where I lacked faith in myself, someone else’s felt foreign. The cultural values instilled in me by my grandparents taught me to pull through despite any deficits which exist in this country’s social structures. With the words of my grandparents etched into my mind, I work with “makeke” and the knowledge of the importance of education.

The most significant realisation I came to was that until my Grandpa's passing, I only ever took the time to bridge the gaps between our views. I never explored what existed in the va—the space—between our perspectives. Today, the exploration of that space between our perspectives still continues. And I think it’ll continue for a long time. The only thing I know for sure is that I was wrong, about many things— but that’s okay. Because life is life, and no matter how eeks or passionate one might be, it doesn’t turn back for no one. I learnt way back to just learn from the blows

These days I approach uni, and learning in general, with a different mindset. I’m grounded, knowing that I still have a relationship with my Nana; one where I ask her about the spaces between our thinking and learn from her. I’m certain of my capabilities, and I know that my people and I are capable of accomplishing anything. I go hard cause at this point, I’m not just studying for myself. It’s about putting honour where honour is due, and being an example for the young’ns. And I’m skux.

But most of all, I'm grateful. I’m grateful to my giants, whose shoulders I stand upon.