Learning About Learning:
Our Minister of Education and our Ministry of Education are making radical changes to our New Zealand Curriculum at a hard-to-believe rate.
There has been little opportunity for feedback, little evidence of a depth and breadth of research and expertise informing these changes.
Members of the Aotearoa Educators' Collective are doing their best to ensure due consideration is given to these changes. At a recent conference, they invited students to share their views.
The following article is quite long, but it offers a valuable learner's perspective. You will hear these students talk about approaches and values that are dear to us at Western Heights.
The Future Speaks: Lessons from the Learners
A contribution by Guest Student Writers, Lyanne Metuli Tuluauau
and Helen Nansen.
In a time when education reform is being driven by policy papers and
imported ideologies, the most insightful voices often come from the very
people living the experience, our students. In this special feature, two Year
12 students, Helen Nansen and Lyanne Metuli Tuluauau, share deeply
personal reflections on what it means to learn, and to be taught, as Pasifika
learners in Aotearoa. Their writing is both a challenge and a gift to every
educator: a reminder that teaching is not just about transmitting knowledge,
but about building relationships grounded in trust, patience, and
understanding.
These are the voices of the future: courageous, thoughtful, and profoundly
wise. May we have the humility to listen.
Ways to Teach Me
Talofa lava, my name is Lyanne Metuli Tuluauau. I am a Year 12 student and I
hail from the beautiful villages of Fasitoo Uta and Leulumega Tuai in Upolu,
Samoa.
I decided to dedicate this to all teachers of my College*, because even if you are from the Pacific Islands, you still tend to expect questionable things or stereotype us Samoan students.
The traditional custom of the tatau can be compared to teaching; just like
how the tatau is more than just art on the skin, teaching is more than just
passing on knowledge—both are journeys of patience, endurance, and
meaning. In this metaphor, the tufuga (tattooist) who carefully guides the
process is the teacher, and we, the students, are the ones receiving the
tatau, which requires us to have faith in the process, persevere through it,
and develop further. The support system is our alga, it shows that teaching
is not something done alone, but through guidance, inspiration, and mutual
growth.
I've heard many teachers say questionable things to our Samoan students.
Some have said things like, "I wasn't expecting that from you", when we
achieve at a high standard, or "The boys from where I come from behave
better", when we decide to act like the young college students we are. Too
often, our potential is overlooked because of stereotypes based on our
appearance or what others have said about us, rather than seeing the
potential within. Genuine growth requires time, respect, and faith in the
individual receiving it, as the tatau demonstrates. The full beauty of the
design will not be revealed if the procedure is done carelessly. Likewise, our
students' learning cannot thrive when stereotypes limit them.
Here are some ways to showcase the full beauty of a student's learning.
Prepare me first — Give me clear guidance, not assumptions. Like a tufuga
who prepares the tools before any tatau, I need teachers to prepare me with
clear instructions and background knowledge. Don't assume I won't try my
appearance or background, give me the right tools, so I can start strong.
Take it step by step — Don't expect me to already "get it." A tatau is done in
sections, each part adding meaning to the full design. Similarly, teach me in
steps that I can follow, allowing me to build my understanding pace. Each
step is important and helps boost my confidence layer by layer.
Be patient — I learn at my own pace; rushing doesn't help. It can take days,
maybe even weeks, to finish the tatau; it's not something that can be
rushed. Similar to my learning, I need you to have patience with my learning;
I won't always understand it straight away. If I don't get it right away, please
don't label me as "lazy" or "dull". Give me time and the opportunity to grow.
Guide me with care - Every step matters, like each tap of the tufuga.
Teaching me requires the same care that the tufuga has during the process
of the tatau; every tap of the tufuga is precise and meaningful, because
mistakes aren't easily erased. Don't lower your expectations or offer
shortcuts based on what you think you see or hear. Expect greatness from
me, and I will rise to it.
Support me like an alga - Include my strengths, identity, and community.
In a system that doesn't work for everyone, I need you to support me. Just
like when receiving the tatau, you are never left alone; your family, village,
as well as your faasinornaga, are there to support you. I'm not expecting to
be told when the next tap from the tufuga is, but I'm expecting my
strengths, culture, and community to be included.
Respect who I am - Don't let stereotypes shape how you see me. The
tatau is sacred; it honours a person's identity and heritage. In the same way,
teaching should honour who I am as a Samoan learner; I don't wake up early
in the morning to get my siblings ready, or overcome obstacles and endure
the stress, for me. I do it for my family, for my people, and for my heritage. I
do it so that it shows the strength and potential of Samoans.
See things from my view - You may think that you are not able to
understand my viewpoint because we are not from the same worlds or
because we may look different, but you may be surprised that even those
who may "look" like me struggle to understand where I'm coming from. I
have experienced this through when I had asked a Pasifika teacher for help
but she didn't want to work around the other commitments I had, and rather
told me to drop them. When I try to bring my perspectives on an issue or
situation, be open to listening to what I have to say. We need you to
understand why things matter to us, even if they might not matter to you.
Try to have some empathy about what we're going through or how we
perceive what's challenging for us. Not all of us take things for granted and
are genuine with our concerns. Just like when you choose to receive the
tatau, you must take time to learn the language, culture, and its traditions.
As the tatau is a deep cultural commitment, that you not only just show up
to get done, but you take the time to learn the stories, meanings and
responsibilities that come with it.
Leave a lasting mark - Teach me in a way I'll carry with pride forever. Just
as the tatau is forever, narrating the tale of fortitude, resilience, and self-
identity. Teach me in ways that leave confidence, skills, and pride in who I am
as a Samoan student. Let my education be my tatau, something that
demonstrates my value and endures forever, rather than letting stereotypes
determine my story.
Teaching me requires patience, meaning, respect, and support, much like
the practice of tatau. Every lesson moulds who I am and who I will become,
much like each line in a tatau narrates a tale of identity and perseverance.
Teachers make a lasting impression that improves my future when they see
past the stereotypes and provide me with sincere guidance. Education
should focus on encouraging pride, development, and success rather than
lowering Samoan expectations. The way you teach me ultimately becomes
my tatau, a mark that I bear with me forever and that conveys a narrative of
potential rather than stereotype.
Voyaging My Learning
Talofa Lava, My name is Helen Nansen, a 17-year-old Year 12 student, proud
of my Pasifika heritage from Nukunonu, Tokelau, and Sliumu, Samoa.
Sometimes, being Polynesian at school can be challenging because it's
hard to relate to how subjects are taught or to the content itself. I'm writing
to all teachers at my College*, both new and experienced, with the hope
that you gain a deeper understanding of who we are as students, and the
support we need during difficult times.
As a Pasifika learner at our school, our worth is often seen differently from
what teachers truly recognise in us. Some teachers expect we're all the
same, but we're not, because we each carry unique stories, backgrounds,
and experiences. When teachers judge us by stereotypes, it limits our
opportunities and holds us back from reaching our full potential. Some
teachers draw us in with their high hopes and expectations, say all the right
words to believe that we'll be looked after, then turn on us to fend for
ourselves and blame us for not meeting their expectations. Some teachers
believe that when they make decisions about our learning or academic
success, they are doing what is right by us. They don't consider how we
might feel about their decisions or the effects these decisions have on us
because they only care about their self-satisfaction or that they did a "good
job".Teachers are the navigators guiding us toward new horizons, while we are
the paddlers, rowing in the direction set by you. But when we face strong
resistance or rough currents, a single powerful stroke can feel like it might
break our paddles, making it hard to keep moving forward.
That is why I hope to share ways that can help both students and teachers paddle
together with purpose.
1. Show us how — don't just tell us.
Actions speak louder than words. Instead of only telling us what to do, show
us how to do it. We learn more from seeing and doing than from hearing
instructions alone.
Write clear examples on the whiteboard. But that alone doesn't mean,
letting a student write down the answer on the board, and saying "wait for
the whiteboard" as if saying copy and learn. We can copy, but how can we
learn where an island is, when we don't know how to get there? Sit beside
us and work through it together. The effort you show us in action becomes
the guidance we carry forward.
2. Give us time
"Why?" Are we in a race with each other? Seeing who finishes first? Many of
us already carry heavy expectations from home, and sometimes it can feel
like we're drowning under them. Please, let us paddle at our own pace. Just
as it takes time to discover new islands, it takes time for us to reach
understanding. Be patient. Repeat lessons when needed, that's how we
remember. Going over it once and moving on too quickly is how we forget.
3. Bring warmth into the classroom.
Show patience, encouragement, and positivity. We learn through mistakes,
and those mistakes help us grow. When teachers encourage us and remind
us that it's okay to get things wrong, it builds trust. But when teaching feels
cold or negative, that trust breaks. A simple smile can make a classroom
feel bright, just as the moon makes the ocean glisten.
4. Don't assume — guide us clearly.
One of the hardest things is when teachers assume we already know what's
expected. When that happens, we're left paddling without direction, circling
endlessly and too afraid to ask for help. Clarity is kindness, guide us step by
step so we can all move forward together.
5. Encourage talanoa and connection.
Let us share our voices through talanoa, open, respectful conversation.
Make lessons engaging by using our cultures, interests, and real-life
examples. Stories, humour, and creative activities make learning memorable
and help us feel safe to participate. When our cultures are reflected in your
teaching, we feel seen and valued.
6. Adapt your teaching — there's more than one way to paddle.
If one method doesn't work, try another. There are many ways to reach the
same island, just as there are many ways to teach. Listen to student voices,
ask for feedback, and be willing to adjust your approach. When you teach
with flexibility and heart, every learner finds their way to understanding.
My education isn't just about grades or credits, it's about the journey I take
and where it leads me. Every paddle makes a difference. Every challenge
we face matters. And every teacher who helps guide us is part of our
journey. Teach with patience, kindness, and understanding, and our voyage
will be smoother, stronger, and filled with purpose.
I know teachers are seen as people who carry the school values everywhere
they go, but those values mean most when they are lived, not just spoken.
- Kotahitanga is all of us paddling together in unity — teachers
(navigators) guiding the direction, and students (paddles) moving as one
so no one is left behind.
- Rangatiratanga is leadership — teachers leading with wisdom and
confidence, helping us paddle with purpose and strength.
- Manaakitanga is care — creating a safe and kind waka where everyone
feels supported and respected.
- Whanaungatanga is connection — building strong, trusting
relationships that keep the waka steady and united.
- Pōnanawatanga is the heartbeat of the waka — the energy and spirit
that comes from how we treat each other. A waka filled with respect,
care, and teamwork moves further and faster.
As a proud Pasifika learner, I carry with me the strength, resilience, and
hopes of my ancestors every time I step into the classroom. My journey is
not just my own, it's tied to the dreams of those who came before me and
the future of those who will come after. I hope that by sharing this, teachers
will see us not only for who we are now, but for who we are becoming.
When you teach with heart, when you guide with purpose, you help shape a
future where every student, no matter their background, feels seen, heard,
and valued. That is the kind of waka I hope we continue to build together.
When only one side is motivated to learn, there is no us — only you. That's
not why we call you our teachers. But when you guide one of us, you guide
all of us, because we learn and grow together, sailing as one community.
Fa'afetai tele lava,
Helen Nansen