Newshub reporter Mitch Redman reveals sadness at not speaking te reo Māori fluently

For AM reporter Mitch Redman, his moko is not only a testimony to his whakapapa but to the heritage which was absent from his father's upbringing.

With his dad, Derek, by his side, and his cousins and aunty popping into Raniera McGrath's Moko Kauri in Auckland during the four-hour process Redman was proud to receive the moko. 

The design links Redman to the three places he is from: His spiritual home of Kaitāia, his birthplace of Christchurch and his parent's home in Southland.  

The design links Redman to the three places he is from: His spiritual home of Kaitāia, his birthplace of Christchurch and his parent's home in Southland.
The design links Redman to the three places he is from: His spiritual home of Kaitāia, his birthplace of Christchurch and his parent's home in Southland. Photo credit: Supplied

"Obviously getting it done meant a lot, but having family there as well considering 20 years prior dad didn't even know these people existed, to have them there was pretty special," Redman said.

Derek was brought up by his Pākeha grandparents in Mataura, completely oblivious to the fact he was Māori.

When Derek was in his early teens, he was told he was whāngai - those he thought were his parents were in fact his grandparents. 

It took another 20 years for Derek to learn of his birth father Wi Tewau Karaka or 'Papa Bill' living on the opposite side of the country in Kaitāia.

Just before Mitch was born, Derek met his dad for the first time and was introduced to a large extended family and his iwi Te Rarawa.

About to have his own son compelled Derek to reconnect with his dad, something Redman is glad of. 

"I was quite lucky in the sense that I grew up knowing that side of the family. There was part of him [Derek] who didn't know who he was." 

Mitch as a child and his whānau.
Mitch as a child and his whānau. Photo credit: Supplied

Despite being born and raised in Christchurch, Redman refers to Kaitāia as "home".

"You just feel something when you go up there, it feels like home."

He recalls hearing stories at Whakamaharatanga Marae, playing in Papa Bill's backyard and family reunions with 70 odd recently discovered whānau.

But living so far away, coupled with being unable to fluently speak te reo plays on his mind.

He is part of a growing number of rangatahi who proudly identify as Māori but feel whakamā (shame) because they can't speak te reo fluently.

"I feel like there's so many young Māori in New Zealand now in the same position as me [who] love their culture and want to learn so much about their culture but have had a very Pākehā and urban upbringing that so many won't know where they are from or where home is," he said.

Growing popularity for reo classes and a lack of te reo Māori teachers means long waitlists for classes.

Redman, who has an intermediate-level understanding of te reo, said he was fortunate to have the resources in high school to learn.

He took te reo Māori at Christchurch Boys’ High School which he said was the first time he really got to embrace his culture.

"That's where the sparks started to ignite."

While he has lost a bit of te reo since high school he dreams of attending a full immersion course and re-studying the language.

"It's all good and well embracing being Māori but I feel like that's a big piece of the puzzle missing I would love to fill one day." 

At the end of the year, he is travelling to Auckland with his younger brother Scott who is getting his first moko.