A family’s te reo love story

A couple who met in a te reo class tell Jane Matthews it’s bow the only language they speak to their toddler son.

SEVEN years ago two people in their 20s met by chance in a te reo Ma¯ ori course – now, it’s their son’s first language.

Casey Haverkamp and Nathan Mansell said it was almost an unspoken decision when they got pregnant – they wanted their now 20-month-old Tu¯ manako to speak te reo

Ma¯ ori.

But, it’s a learning curve. They’re not only raising a toddler, they’re teaching him a language they’re still trying to grasp themselves.

‘‘It’s going to be on us to keep up,’’ Mansell laughed, sitting in his New Plymouth lounge.

As a child in Tokoroa, Mansell’s mother, who is

Pa¯ keha¯ but learnt the language later in life, would speak to him in te reo.

‘‘I was ignorant, and I didn’t care,’’ said Mansell (Nga¯ ti Awa, Nga¯ Maihi). ‘‘I would say: ‘if you don’t speak to me in English, I’m not going to respond’.’’

The 32-year-old regrets that now.

But, when his Wellington employer, The Treasury New Zealand, offered in-house te reo courses 10 years ago, he took the opportunity.

‘‘I thought if I was Ma¯ ori I should know.’’

Haverkamp is from Foxton Beach and is Pa¯ keha¯ .

The 33-year-old became interested in the indigenous language of Aotearoa after she finished studying law at university.

‘‘Ten years ago I started in night classes as a way to learn more about te ao Ma¯ ori,’’ Haverkamp said. ‘‘To learn the language of this whenua.’’

Then, three years later, her employer, also The Treasury New Zealand, offered in-house courses, and she jumped on board.

That was where the pair met. They had never crossed paths at work but they became ‘‘study buddies’’, Mansell laughed, and ended up together, taking on learning te reo outside of work, too.

In February 2016, they moved to the Netherlands, as Haverkamp’s dad is Dutch, and had the greatest intentions of continuing their studies abroad – but didn’t.

‘‘It was hard,’’ Mansell said. They got pregnant in Amsterdam, and made the decision they wanted to raise their son with te reo as his first language. They wanted him to grow up confident and proud of his culture.

So the pair picked their studies back up, knowing they needed to work to become fluent.

They’re still not – but that hasn’t stopped them.

Tu¯ manako was born in the Netherlands in 2020.

‘‘I have this vivid memory of holding him and not knowing what to say,’’ Mansell said. ‘‘Since he’s been born we only speak te reo to him.’’

His first words were panana ano¯ – more banana.

The only English word he ever knew was ‘‘bye’’, but he now says ‘‘ka kite’’.

The pair know their son will lean English as time goes on, as he lives in a world with it.

But, when they moved to New Plymouth in January, after returning from the Netherlands in September last year, they started looking for a te reospeaking daycare that would suit him.

They chose Te Ko¯ pae Piripono in Marfell, which they say has been monumental to his learning.

The pair is also currently studying level 5 at Te Wa¯ nanga o Aotearoa Nga¯ motu, and it’s ‘‘awesome’’.

Their families have been ‘‘really supportive’’ of their decision, including Mansell’s mum.

‘‘She’s super proud, she loves it,’’ Mansell said. ‘‘She’s the only person in our family that could speak Ma¯ ori to him.’’

On the pair’s return from overseas, they were amazed at how much te reo Ma¯ ori speaking had picked up in Aotearoa.

‘‘It’s cool to see the difference from when we left New Zealand to when we came back.’’

It makes them smile, because that will make their son’s life easier.

‘‘Even if people just do small things it will make a huge difference for Ma¯ ori-speaking tamariki,’’ Haverkamp said.

The pair still speak English to one another at home, but are looking forward to when they won’t have to.

‘‘To have te reo as the language in our home, that’s the aspiration,’’ she said.

And they won’t stop there.

‘‘I will carry on for the rest of my life, so we can speak Ma¯ ori together,’’ Mansell said. ‘‘That’s my main motivation, among a whole bunch of other things like normalising it in Aotearoa, to try contribute to that shift to people speaking Ma¯ ori here.’’

‘‘It’s not a journey that has an end, so you enjoy it along the way,’’ Haverkamp added.

‘‘You don’t just learn the language; you get your perspective changed on so many different things.’’

‘Even if people just do small things it will make a huge difference for Ma¯ori-speaking tamariki.’ CASEY HAVERKAMP