Like most Māori midwives, Jay Waretini-Beaumont (Ngāti Rangi, Ngāti Uenuku, Ngāti Apa) wears many pōtae. In addition to her role as chairperson of Māori Midwives ki Tahu (MMKT), Jay is the treasurer of Ngā Māia Trust, a Māori liaison in the midwifery department at Ara, and in July 2023 started a new role as a Māori midwifery advisor for the New Zealand College of Midwives.

Having grown up in Ōtautahi, Jay has been a registered midwife for 10 years and since graduating, has worked as an LMC midwife in Ōtautahi and Kaikoura, as well as working shifts on a casual basis at Christchurch Women’s Hospital, where she focused largely on supporting tauira Māori as they made their way through their midwifery education.

Jay has always had a particular passion for supporting tauira Māori and Māori new graduate midwives, so her portfolio in her most recently acquired role as a Māori midwifery advisor for the New Zealand College of Midwives is a perfect fit. Tasked with reviewing the Midwifery First Year of Practice (MFYP) programme, Jay is now uniquely positioned to influence not only how the programme is structured, but how it’s addressing workforce inequities. “Because MFYP focuses on sustaining tauira and new graduates, which in turn will fix the profession, it aligns beautifully with what I want to be doing,” Jay explains.

Jay’s post-graduate study has also shaped her perceptions. “My Master’s in Māori and Indigenous Leadership has prepared me for working my way up the ladder and being a creative cog of systemic change in our profession. My dissertation was on what sustains me as a Māori midwife, so I see my new role as an opportunity to work together with the College, to be more culturally responsive to the needs of its Māori members, and to make MFYP a safer place for the increased number of Māori and Pasifika midwives coming through, thanks to Te Ara Ō Hine. The other hats I wear - Māori Midwives ki Tahu and Ngā Māia – in combination with this new role, will work to increase whānaungatanga, which can only be a good thing.”

Jay juggles all of this mahi with māmātanga, guiding her three daughters through their various stages of life. When asked how and why she does it, Jay says “I do it because it has to be a better place out there for all of us – for the whānau we serve. But in order to reach whānau, we’ve got to fix the workforce, sustain it and make it safe. And the time is now. So I’m doing my bit, playing my role in order to open the doors for others to follow behind me.”

“And how do I do it?” she laughs, “two merged calendars, 15 to-do lists and a little bit of passion and drive thrown in.”

Dani Gibbs (Kāi Tahu, Kāti Māmoe, Ngāti Apa, Te Āti Awa ki Te Tau Ihu, Te Āti Awa ki Taranaki) has been a midwife for six years and like Jay, has worked in a number of roles and continues to wear various hats to improve hauoratanga for whānau Māori in Waitaha.

Dani’s career thus far has included community-based work as an LMC with Rātā Midwives, shift work at Christchurch Women’s Hospital, as well as a clinical coach role which saw her supporting midwives as they either transitioned into the tertiary hospital environment, or upskilled to provide more complex care.

“I really like teaching and I like working with students,” Dani explains. “Having been both a hospital midwife and an LMC I felt I could identify a lot of gaps as a clinical coach - where better support could be provided and we could achieve higher retention of new staff. I also saw it as an opportunity for there to be some more collegiality within the DHB as well. At the time I was the only person that identified as Māori within the leadership team.”

While working as a clinical coach Dani discovered she was hapū with her first baby, so these days her mahi is carried out a bit closer to home, as she performs one of her most challenging but rewarding roles yet; being a full-time māmā to one of MMKT’s most loved members, her beautiful daughter Kahurangi.

Balancing māmāhood with her other roles as 2IC for MMKT, Ngā Māia trustee, NZ College of Midwives board representative for Te Wai Pounamu and administration/website management work for Ōtautahi’s Midwifery Resource Centre keeps Dani incredibly busy, but the mahi is rewarding.

“I’m passionate about it because I didn’t get much support myself as a student midwife. We talk a lot about there being a difference between a midwife who is Māori and a Māori midwife, and I think that’s largely based on the support around you. Until the last couple of years, I would have identified as a midwife who was Māori, but my practice didn’t reflect that.”

Moving to Ōtautahi after completing her midwifery education at Otago Polytechnic gave Dani the opportunity to find support in other Māori midwives like Jay, and it wasn’t long before she joined MMKT. Her motivation to keep the rōpu alive and strong is largely due to recognising what would have been helpful when she was a student. “We have so many Māori students coming through and we haven’t always had the supports in place. If we didn’t have MMKT they’d all graduate, but with no cultural support. So I do it because I didn’t get any of that tautoko myself and it probably wasn’t until I met Jay that I felt comfortable to go on my own journey of exploration.”

I have had an incredible enlightenment in the past seven months that I wish to share with you. I arrived at Ruatoria and instantly I am intrigued by what my sister and her hubby are up to. Nearly every day they are on zui. It turns out the government our māmā fought for all her life is Wakaminenga Māori Government. I become curious and eager to listen and learn.

I begin to hear the words He Whakaputanga – NZ’s constitution; signed in 1835; signed five years before the Treaty of Waitangi; signed by 18 Ngā Puhi Rangatira with a further 34 Southern Rangatira. He Whakaputanga is annually celebrated at Waitangi on 28th of October.

I visited Waitangi for the first time on the 28th of October this year in 2022. It was auspicious; historical; respectful. Flying high is the He Whakaputanga flag; listening to the roll call of Rangatira who signed - acknowledged by their descendants, I am reminded respectfully of the Rangatira who hadn’t signed. A couple of local Ngā Maia midwives joined me, and I very much appreciated their manākitanga.

Currently, NZ midwifery is conducting a cultural review. There is talk that Te Tiriti could be the overarching principle for the profession. I believe Te Tiriti is deliberately seen as the founding document of NZ so He Whakaputanga is conveniently swept under the carpet.

For those of us still listening and learning – He Whakaputanga has its own authority; its own jurisdiction; its own Declaration of Independence and, the sovereignty lies with those who exercise He Whakaputanga.

For organisations who engage in contracting with the NZ Government through charities; trusts; iwi; councils, to name a few entities – they all forego He Whakaputanga.

Here’s an example, Te Whatu Ora is currently in a transitional phase centralising health with Te Aka Whai Ora being a notable addition. A move towards Iwi-Māori partnership boards appears innovative and exciting yet, again this is a deliberate attempt to push He Whakaputanga deeper into obscurity.

Until NZ midwifery is led by Ngā Maia Māori Midwives Aotearoa the status quo remains. Establishing a transitional phase with Ngā Maia Māori Midwives Aotearoa overseeing both NZCOM and MCNZ seems a natural progression. On a grander scale, Wakaminenga Māori Government transitional phase with the NZ Government. It’s a complete mind shift.

Check out Māori Government. Do your own research; be informed and become aware of your options.

Watch this space for my next blog.

Mauri Ora, Malo ‘Aupito, Ruth Chisholm

07 November 2022

Mana motuhake is one of those whakaaro Māori; I know exactly what it means, but struggle to articulate it beyond the common translation of self-determination. Mana, a supernatural force within human beings, is the essence of power, authority, and control inherited at birth from our tūpuna. Mana motuhake is that mana expressed through exercising control over one’s destiny. The western concept of self-determination is psychology- based and refers to one’s sense of control over their decisions and lives (Cherry, 2021). But I believe mana motuhake encompasses so much more. To me,it derives from the unique relationship Māori have with the whenua and te taiao (natural environment) and is inherited through whakapapa. These connections between tāngata, taiao, ngā atua and wairua affirm our responsibility to protect our environment and therefore our future. Characterised by tikanga, encompassing all that is valued within te ao Māori, it extends beyond individual determination and into the collective domain. It can revitalise our innate power and drive much needed change, intitiated by Māori, for Māori, with Māori. We need mana motuhake to burn brightly within us, so that we continue to strive for health, wealth and happiness. When mana motuhake is firmly established on an individual level, the result is strong, determined people who can then share their expertise with their wider whānau and communities. It is therefore also the potential for enhancement and expansion.

Mana motuhake can be found in political, economic, social, environmental and cultural contexts and applied at macro, meso and micro levels, but make no mistake, it is not derived from these sources. The Māori response to Covid- 19 has been an outward display of mana motuhake; evident in the way Māori have gathered, opened dialogue, implemented rāhui and supported each other to protect the health and wellbeing of whānau. This response was in the context of crisis and urgency and I feel the same urgency regarding my colleagues and the environments they are now working in (if they are working at all).

My dedication to being a Māori midwife is one of my contributions to the pursuit of mana motuhake for this generation and the next. I feel a responsibility to contribute towards the sustainability of the midwifery profession and the recruitment and retention of Māori midwives. For me, midwifery without the pursuit of mana motuhake makes for a dire future. Māori midwives are among those experiencing racism, isolation and burnout; the impact of the vaccine mandate is widely felt, but particularly for the Māori workforce, it has caused great loss and mamae (pain).

Nurturing mana motuhake amongst Māori midwives therefore, must be a priority. Utilising whakaaro Māori like whāanaungatanga, hui, wānanga, mātauranga and tuakana- teina creates opportunities for professional development, cohesion and the pursuit of mana motuhake. Collectivising, redistributing resources and exploring different leadership styles allows for open dialogue and the development of new infrastructure. Entrenching ourselves within te ao Māori serves to re-imprint tikanga, kawa, and wairuatanga into our lives, midwifery practices, and the maternity system at large.

Ngā Maia are moving forward purposefully, carving out space for Māori midwives to unapologetically be themselves, engage and collaborate. It is my hope that the outcome is a strengthening of mauri, the growing of mātauranga and the reclamation of unique skills. By knowing who we are, where we come from and acknowledging the innate connections between ira tāngata, ira atua and ira whenua, Ngā Maia are in hot pursuit of mana motuhake. Like muka, it takes more than one strand to weave together something as beautiful and functional as mana motuhake, for the collective. He waka eke noa: we are all in this together. Me haere tonu tātou, let’s keep the momentum going.

Life deals out curve balls that I never expected. From losing one’s job; selling my much loved cottage in Governors Bay, to moving in with my sisters family – to survive the road for change. Change is good - don't get me wrong. Coping with what life throws at you – shows how resilient one becomes. It’s taught me not to be so dependent on the almighty dollar. I never was before choosing to work casual nightshift in a local primary birth facility. Being with family cements life-long ties. Midwifery to me does matter and gives me an added perspective on the profession.

When I left my job which was my own choice due to the mandate. I’m sad not mad. I’m forever grateful for the midwifery job opportunities I have had. I found a niche working on nightshifts. Less politics, more autonomous practice, and closeness and connection with sleepy pēpi, māmā, pāpā, whānau. The only significant thought I had when leaving was why more midwives didn’t step away with me. Yes, I understand people’s personal philosophy. Yes, I understand the almighty dollar. Yes, family to care for. I get all that. In a midwifery profession where our oath is about freedom to choose, freedom to how we wish to live, I certainly have no regrets. This to me is mana motuhake that Jay Waretini-Beaumont talked about in her blog.

Mana Motuhake means to me - as a midwife, is ensuring we create how best we want to practice. We choose the midwifery school, we choose to walk alongside birthing whānau, we work in a kaupapa led practice guided by the right environment, people, politics, midwifery vibe, birthing facilities, upbringing etc. Being Māori, being Tongan. If we know our whakapapa, we have a sense of belonging. When you’re away from your tūrangawaewae, it makes you respect where you are placed in society. It teaches you who is mana whenua, tauiwi you trust, collectiveness with Māori and Pasifika, Palagi, Asian, Midwifery colleagues.

Mana Motuhake means to me – being influential. Get to know your midwifery class mates, community and nation. As mentor or mentee, tuakana or teina, carrying humility goes along way. You start to get recognised, asked to represent, position yourself lobbying for change. Hui fono, hui fono, hui fono. I always look out for innovative collective action. Making sure I always report back to the people I represent.

Mana Motuhake means to me – walking together being mindful Māori must lead the way forward. This hasn’t been recognised in the past – I’m optimistic for the future. At the moment there is an emphasis to co-chair, co-governance - whether it be with Pākehā, Palagi, Asian, Indian, LBQ+, Men Groups, Homebirth – all Te Tiriti Partners. A step further is to chair, govern – whom Māori have an innate nature to do anyway.

Mana Motuhake means to me – being safe culturally, being true to self, being kind and revolutionary. 30 years in midwifery. Sovereignty for iwi, whānau, hapū, rūnanga. I love collectiveness. I mentioned family. I have been blessed by answering the call of my sister in Ruatoria to return home. She is wanting to establish Tairāwhiti rohe - Māori Government in Ruatoria where our late māmā created for the nation. The health portfolio is a big mantle to carry but, where whānau, Māori, tauiwi and all like-minded people can come together to share the hope and joy for a healthy hauora. Watch this space – or next blog.

Special acknowledgement to close friends, family and colleagues. You know who you all are. Never forgotten.

Mauri Ora, Malo ‘Aupito, Ruth Chisholm

01 April 2022

My mentee

Unearthing what sustains Māori midwives is of particular interest to Jay Beaumont, and mentoring new graduate Urunumia Tahana over the past year has provided an opportunity to both learn and teach.

After eight years of midwifery practice in both LMC and employed settings, and unofficially mentoring students and midwives along the way, Jay (Ngāti Rangi, Ngāti Uenuku, Ngāti Apa) decided to embark on formal training to become an MFYP mentor in 2020.

“I had a really cool mentor myself. She was non-Māori, but the closest thing to a Māori midwife that I could find at the time, so it was my way of giving back to the profession once I felt I had consolidated my practice,” she says.

Embarking on the mentoring training was about recognising her unique worth, and that of her Māori colleagues. “You can’t replace a Māori midwife,” she explains. “It’s a particular kind of worldview and there aren’t enough of us to go around.”

Jay had a personal connection to her first mentee, Urunumia, and the decision to mentor her was an easy one. “She was often supported by our mutual friend Diana Bates Keepahunuhunu. Sadly, Di passed away suddenly and left a huge gap for Urunumia.

“It became so obvious how important it was to ensure she felt heard and supported, in order for her to transition in to a confident Māori midwife, or we would lose her from the profession. She worked so hard to get through her degree and register; it wasn’t going to be on my conscience to see her walk away,” Jay explains.

Jay’s insights and guidance as a Māori midwife have been invaluable for Urunumia in her first year of work. “I can understand where she’s coming from when she’s reflecting on what she’s seeing in practice, like whānau Māori being treated differently to other whānau. I can unpack that with her and problem-solve it,” she says.

Through the process, Jay has gained even more clarity around where Māori midwives are needed. “I’m telling my Māori colleagues how important it is that we do the preceptor workshop, the MFYP mentoring workshop, and become standards reviewers - so that we can have more Māori representation across the board.”

Recently taking on a new role as Māori liaison for Ara Institute of Technology’s midwifery school, Jay is also working toward her Master of Māori and Indigenous Leadership through Canterbury University, focusing on the topic of sustaining the Māori midwifery workforce in Te Waipounamu.

But as is often the case, some of her most significant lessons have come from the partnership she developed with Urunumia. One of the most poignant can also be applied to midwifing women through labour and birth. “Let mentee midwives guide their own journeys,” Jay advises. “Be the sounding board that invokes reflection.”

Urunumia Tahana recently completed the MFYP programme under the mentorship of Jay Beaumont and is grateful to have been guided by someone who could anticipate her needs.

As an 11-year-old, Urunumia (Ngāti Māhanga, Ngāti Pikiao) remembers her sister’s midwife visiting the family home. There was nothing mystical about her journey to midwifery, but a seed had obviously been planted, and she knew it was her path. “It wasn’t anything super spiritual, but something about it just always sat right with me,” she explains.

Urunumia became hapū with her first baby in her final year of midwifery study through Ara Institute of Technology and she birthed her son the day after sitting the national registration exam. Transitioning to motherhood, combined with losing her unofficial mentor Diana (Di) Bates Keepahunuhunu in 2019 nearly saw Urunumia walk away from midwifery before her career had even started.

Urunumia’s middle name is Pam, and up until she met Di, this was what she called herself. “My whole life I’ve always been known as Pam - because it was easier for other people to say it,” she explains. Di would put an end to this, however, permanently altering Urunumia’s life trajectory. “Di wouldn’t let people call me Pam. She’d say ‘No, her name is Urunumia’. She was the first person to give me enough confidence to stop making myself small.”

In 2021, Urunumia not only found the strength, but the right mentor to continue her midwifery journey. “I asked Jay to be my mentor because I really wanted to be with somebody who understood and saw the world from a Māori perspective. That was really important to me. I needed that safety of someone who knew me culturally,” she says.

Jay continued what her friend Di had started, and Urunumia has not only completed the MFYP requirements, but is already strategising to future-proof the Māori workforce. “One of the most valuable things I’ve taken away from the mentor/mentee relationship is the importance of Māori stepping into leadership/tuakana roles, to ensure the sustainability of the Māori midwifery workforce,” Urunumia says.

An internal fire has been stoked, she explains. “Jay has sparked inspiration inside of me and the desire to heed that call to tuakana; to pass the gift of mātauranga whakawhānau and awhi from a kaupapa Māori perspective on to Māori new graduate midwives.”

Reducing the experience of the past year down to bite-size quotes is difficult for Urunumia, but she sums it up perfectly by circling back to a midwifery pillar. “Jay and I were able to form a partnership through exchange of mātauranga Māori and wānanga with each other, leading me on the journey from competent to confident practitioner. We achieved so much together over my graduate year, I couldn’t have asked for anything more in a mentor.”

Tēnā koutou,

Ko Jay Waretini-Beaumont toku ingoa. He wahine, he mama, he tauira, he kaiwhakawhanau.

I originally wrote this piece as an academic blog as part of a learning journey at Te Whare Wānanga o Waitaha UC. This blog focuses on mana motuhake, myself and Māori midwifery and I have adapted it in hopes it provokes thought.

Mana motuhake is one of those whakaaro Māori that have me feeling like I know exactly what it means while at the same time struggle to explain it beyond the commonly translated meaning of self-determination. Mana is a supernatural force within a human being. It is the essence of power, authority and control that we inherit at birth from our tupuna (“Mana,” n.d.). Where mana motuhake is expressed as mana that is through self-determination and control over one’s destiny (“Mana motuhake,” n.d.).

I think we have an important job ahead. It is my generations responsibility to advance mana motuhake for the next generation to come. Isn’t it? But how do we advance what we don’t know how to explain? How do we pursue mana motuhake and resurge it for the future without a tight grasp on what it is and how to nurture and grow it? I think this is where the responsibility of my generation to advance mana motuhake begins. Step one, define mana motuhake. Step two build theory around how to resurge it. Step three, spread the word, share our knowledge. Step four, watch this space.