Sophie Yeoman offers reflections on being a MPI tutor.

Every so often, a lecturer will suggest attending a MPI tutorial to get to know the students. These are the additional optional tutorials provided for Māori and Pasifika students in most compulsory law courses, which grew out of student-organised informal study groups. MPI tutorials build community among Māori and Pasifika students and provide a learning environment based on Māori and Pasifika values. When I became a tutor, I made some suggestions to the course lecturers for their visits to these tutorials. Those suggestions inspired this piece.

Do acknowledge students’ achievements so far. Talk about Māori and Pasifika role models in the law. Don’t say “MPI students never talk in my classes.”

Every week I ask my students what they are proud of from the last week, and e poho kererū ana au [I’m as puffed up as a kererū: proud] when they tell me about speaking up in class, being proactive with their assignments, or working through something they’re finding really hard. Sometimes though, the answers don’t come easily.

Talking about something you are proud of is uncomfortable – kāore te kumara e kōrero mō tōnā ake reka [the kumara doesn’t speak of its own sweetness]. But it goes deeper than that. I walked softly around Law School in my first few weeks here, hoping I wouldn’t step on a creaky floorboard outside some lecturer’s open door and be noticed. This beautiful campus, Old Government Building, can be a stark reminder of power and privilege.

Many of my students admit they sit at the back of the class, well away from a lecturer’s attempts at the Socratic method. They don’t want to be judged for asking a question that others know the answer to, or answering a question with something other than what the lecturer was expecting. Worst yet, the lecturer might look at a specific student and say, “what would the Māori perspective on this be?”

Do acknowledge the importance to students of their relationships with their families and communities

At a MPI morning tea for graduation, graduands told stories: of studying with young children; of studying for a law degree in their second language; of being the first in their family to attend university; of studying all waking hours to secure prestigious jobs in the senior courts. Graduands described how these achievements were only possible with the support of whānau, friends and classmates, and the lecturers and support staff who took an interest in their lives and became part of their support networks too.

Like many other students, I didn’t know anyone on my first day of Law School. I wasn’t sure I was Māori enough to be a Māori law student. But I turned up to Clubs Day and signed up to Ngā Rangahautira, encouraged enough by the friendly faces there to walk into the Āwhina room one day and introduce myself. It took a few months of going to MPI tutorials, hanging out in the MPI spaces, learning peoples’ names, before I really felt comfortable. There were late night study sessions, road trips, a few tears, many laughs and so much shared kai. Now at the end of my degree, Ngā Rangahautira has become my community, my whānau at Law School.

This whanaungatanga is why I became a MPI tutor. Whanaungatanga describes relationships and the sense of belonging, but it also describes reciprocal obligations. Speaking with other MPI tutors, we have talked about the sense of duty we feel in these roles to help our teina the way our tuakana once helped us.

Do be human, talk about where you come from, your own struggles as a student, your personal motivations for supporting MPI students. Don’t be an all-knowing lecturer

It can seem that everyone else has things all figured out. There is always someone whose parent is a judge, who went to private school, or who stands tall with their ngākau Māori when you’re not sure how or where to find yours. But there is also always someone who has it harder than you, whether they are less confident in their study skills, are having health problems, or are grieving someone. You never know what someone else might be going through. Unfortunately, the way Law School operates, it is easier to get good grades if you have a less complicated life.

As a tutor, seeing my students work so hard in their courses but sometimes still struggle, I have wanted to lift them up and carry them to the finish line. At times like these I have turned to others for support and the reminder that our role as tutors is to walk beside and encourage students as they find their own path. As a student, I hoped tutors could somehow distill their wisdom in a way that would make sense to me, and lead to perfect grades in their course. Of course, although my MPI tutors were always there to answer questions and cheer me on, I had to trudge my own path to understanding.

The secret to succeeding at Law School is to try hard things, fail sometimes, work out what went wrong, seek support, and get up and try again. It takes a healthy sense of self-esteem and the knowledge that you belong here to be able to do this. During tutor training, we were reminded that although the walls are lined with photos of Pākehā lecturers and lawyers, when we look down, we see the same floor that generations of Māori and Pasifika law students have trodden before us. Our strength is that we are not on this haerenga alone.

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