I share a familiar Pacific migration story. Moving to a new country, through the many sacrifices of my kōpū tangata /family, with the aspirations that I would have access to quality education opportunities and ultimately a better life.

While migration offers many opportunities, in my experience I lost my language and I am currently on a journey to reclaim tōku reo Māori Kūki ‘Āirani (my Cook Islands Maori language).

I was born in Rarotonga and moved to New Zealand at the age of seven, with my Grandad. My Grandad was my sole carer and was in his sixties when I was born. He cared for me for 16 blessed years of my life and throughout my childhood, he would remind me of the importance of education and instilled in me the values of service and humility.

My Grandad only spoke te reo Māori Kūki ‘Āirani/Cook Islands Maori and I only spoke English. Despite this language barrier, my Grandad would share parts of his story and the struggles he endured. I remember the many times I would need to do my best to translate when we were at the supermarket and we would need one of my cousins to help translate when my Grandad had a doctor’s appointment.

Only in hindsight, do I reflect on just how much he would have struggled to leave his beloved Ipukarea/homeland, to live in a largely English-speaking country and raise a young child as well. I acknowledge the importance of diversity and representation in the workforce, especially in healthcare. Having a Cook Islands speaking doctor would have helped so much.

This year’s theme for ‘Epetoma o te reo Māori Kūki ‘Āirani – Cook Islands Language Week is 'Ātuitui’ia au ki te au peu o tōku kāinga Ipukarea, which means, "connect me to the traditions & culture of my homeland".

Growing up in New Zealand has provided me with all the opportunities my family had hoped for me however, learning our reo was not a priority. I have struggled with my identity and sense of belonging mainly because I thought I needed to know how to speak my reo fluently, to be accepted and considered a “real” Cook Islander. Being born in the Cook Islands but being raised in New Zealand, I’ve often felt disconnected between the two.

I would be called “plastic” and eventually referred to myself as “plastic” to feel slightly better when I couldn’t hold a conversation. It can be very discouraging when you are already insecure about who you are. We need to be encouraged and encouraging of anyone that is learning and still on their own journey of reclamation, especially if we want our reo to survive. It is a collective effort to uplift and inspire our future generations.

Growing up in South Auckland, I was able to learn more about our Cook Islands culture and traditions at school and participate in dance groups. This is where my foundation was laid and I learnt more through imene/song, dance/ura and learning our Peu Tupuna/Legends.

Through conversations with my family, I know my roots are linked to Rarotonga, Atiu and Mitiaro.

Through free language classes run by the Centre for Pacific Languages, I am able to strengthen my understanding of our Cook Islands culture and continue my language journey.

This has been a self-directed journey to reclaim my reo, sense of identity and belonging. Although it is hard and can be embarrassing, I know it is important not only to me but for my tamariki.

I have 3 young boys who are Cook Islands Māori, Tongan and New Zealand European. They attend a Punanga reo in Otara and are already thriving in their Māori Kūki ‘Āirani. We incorporate as much of their culture in our everyday life and I enjoy watching them all flourish.

There is no measure of how much of a Cook Islander you are. I encourage you to embody what being a Cook Islander means to you, every day.

I am a proud Cook Islander, and I am grateful for my family's sacrifices, so I can live my life today.