Kirsten Crawford (right), shared the journey toward receiving her moko with her daughter, and mother. Photo: supplied
For Kirsten Crawford (Ngāti Kauwhata, Ngāti Tukorehe), the journey to receiving her moko kauae has been one of identity, connection, and the feeling of "becoming complete."
But the haerenga became even more powerful when shared with her daughter and mother, marking a profound connection between three generations of wāhine Māori.
'I didn't actually think there was a part of me missing until that day'
Raised at Kai Iwi, Manawatū, by her grandparents, Crawford's upbringing was steeped in te ao Māori and guided specifically by the mātauranga (wisdom/knowledge) of her tūpuna.
"Having the strength of my nan has always allowed me just to be me."
Crawford said that her grandparents and parents were in the generation of a "stripped nationality, or a stripped identity," and were beaten for speaking their native tongue.
"My grandmother used to talk about being whipped as a child for speaking in te reo, even though it was her first language. It was still punishable."
Crawford said she was quite lucky in the sense that her nan was a full-blooded Māori, but she always believed they should walk proficiently in both worlds - te ao Māori and te ao Pākehā - and establish themselves in both.
"My nan's belief was that we can do this in their world, but they would struggle to do it in ours."
Crawford's childhood was steeped in staying true to herself.
"I've always been proud to be Māori. I've never hidden that, I'm just who I am."
However, over the past few years she felt more connected to her Māoritanga with being a māmā.
Her tamariki, immersed in te ao Māori, attend kura kaupapa: St Joseph's Māori Girls College and Hato Pāora.
"Me having a lot more to do with going home and with them identifying really strongly with te ao Māori, it's allowed me to kind of rejuvenate who I am and what I do."
Crawford said her daughter Logan receiving her kauae was a strong cementing of who she is as a proud rangatahi Māori. Photo: Supplied
Inspired by the next generation
In recent years, it was Crawford's 17-year-old daughter Logan who led the way.
"It was her really, who wanted [moko kauae] and she pushed and pushed to have tāmoko which represents her whakapapa (heritage)."
"When we got her whakapuru done, she then said, mum my next one is my kauae."
Crawford said she was initially hesitant about her daughter's decision.
"I just wanted her to kind of see life without markings on her face, because I know what stigma looks like."
However, Crawford received guidance from a whānau member who had recently unveiled her moko kauae.
"She said you don't get to choose; our children get to choose when they're ready,
"She told me this baby doesn't need your permission. Her whole ao is surrounded in te ao Māori, and tikanga Māori. And she is just who she is."
This understanding shifted Crawford's own whakaaro.
"It made me realise that it wasn't my decision. My daughter was reclaiming her identity in her own way."
Soon, Crawford would join her daughter in receiving moko kauae, alongside her mother, who would receive her first moko rei, marking a significant moment for three generations of wāhine Māori.
"We just decided, okay, we're going to do it because we can."
A shared moment: Mokopapa of three generations
Crawford, her daughter and mother returned to their tūrangawaewae for their mokopapa, (a gathering called specifically to apply moko).
Surrounded by whānau, portraits of her tūpuna and the wairua of passed loved ones at her grandmother's homestead, she described the experience as "surreal."
"This is our kāinga (home) that's been in our whānau for the last six generations. So, for us, it made sense."
The day of their mokopapa was a beautiful and emotional experience.
"It was just surreal; everything just flowed the way that it should. Our home was surrounded with aroha."
When asked if it hurt, Crawford said kāore, which she believes is an indication of the timing of her moko kauae being just right.
"I was in that mindset where I was probably overdue for mine more than anything."
Crawford chose her cousin as her kaitā (tāmoko artist), a decision rooted in whakapapa and trust.
"Every moko that me and my children have had has been done by him," she said.
"There's no need to explain our whakapapa or our kōrero - he just understands."
While unveiling her moko kauae, Crawford said she felt at peace.
"I didn't realise there was a part of me missing until that day. It was like a cementing of my identity of now I am complete."
Kirsten Crawford said she has always been a proud Māori woman and has always known exactly who she is and where she fit into her whānau. Photo: supplied
Reclaiming wāhine Māori identity
Crawford reflected on the challenges wāhine Māori often face when claiming their right to wear moko kauae, particularly the lingering influences of colonisation and Christian teachings.
"As Māori women, it's our right to do whatever we like, when we like," she said.
"We've been conditioned to think we need permission - to be fluent in reo, or to come from a particular line of tūpuna - but we are all connected to Ariki.
She said they all come from Ngā Hau e Whā, and "all have a different amount of heart beating."
"You come from an Ariki line, no matter who you are, because we come from Hawaiki, and they weren't just commoners."
She said people tend to speak about getting permission when it comes to moko kanohi, however, Crawford said that's the one thing she refused to do.
"I didn't actually need anybody's permission. I probably needed my own more than anything.
"You don't need somebody else's permission; you need your own."
She said even her mother was a little "hōhā" in terms of reclaiming traditional practices like moko.
"My mum always had that Mormon mentality of 'Oh I can't really do that', or 'oh I don't want to do this'."
"I said 'that's the whole te ao Pākehā kind of mentality there, saying that I can't do something - but you can do anything you like.
"As wahine Māori, we have to be really selfish in that mentality of our whakaaro is ours, and it's our right to have that. It's nobody else's right to take it away and if they try to take it away, then they shouldn't be in your space. Because they're not actually good for your wairua."
Crawford said she didn't realise there was a part of her missing, until the day she received her moko kauae. Photo: Supplied
Message to Māori on their reclamation journey:
Crawford's message to wāhine who feel whakamā about beginning their moko kauae journey or immersing themselves in te ao Māori, is to return home to your whenua or a space you feel grounded.
"Go back to your papakāinga where you're surrounded by your tūpuna. Go back to your marae, to your whānau ūrupa, or to your grandparents' house. Go back to the place where you know you can heal your ngākau and your wairua."
She said the colonisation thought-pattern, of not feeling worthy enough to wear moko kauae, is hard to undo.
"Most people forget that when you're surrounded in big cities where you're not from, or surrounded with other things, that it interferes with your wairua... but the best thing to do, is having the strength to go home and face that."
She said, even if you are still searching for your whānau and your whakapapa links, you can still go to a place that makes you feel complete.
"Go to the ocean, go to a deserted paddock. Who cares? Just go somewhere where you can train your mentality to just be still for five minutes. Because that's all you need."
She said you need that five minutes of stillness to be able to hear your tūpuna speak to you.
"That's what it was for me. It was just going home.
"The burdens of the world disappear and it's just peace."
- This article is part of an ongoing mau moko kanohi series, sharing the journeys of individuals reclaiming their taonga and embracing their Māoritanga.
