Emma Barnes-Wetere reflects on the intersection of law, culture, identity, and place, shaped by her experience on a student exchange at Esade Law School in Barcelona.

Hei tīmatanga – Introduction

Whakapapa is carried with us wherever we go, connecting us to where we come from and shaping our path forward. During my student exchange at Esade Law School in Barcelona, encountering different legal traditions brought my understanding of tikanga Māori into sharper focus and prompted me to reflect on the values and worldviews through which law is understood. These reflections are offered through two foundational tikanga Māori principles: whanaungatanga and kaitiakitanga.

Studying abroad has been a dream of mine since I was little. Growing up in Aotearoa, I was particularly drawn to Spain for its vibrant way of life, rich cultural and linguistic diversity, stunning coastlines, varied landscapes, and the intrigue of a country situated almost exactly on the opposite side of the world. I also wanted to study in Spain because my English grandparents, on my father’s side, had lived and worked in the Basque country and Madrid during the 1960s. My grandfather had trained as an electrical engineer and was working as a representative for the British General Electric Company. They both loved Spain for its lifestyle and culture. Sadly, my grandparents had all passed away before I started university. But according to my Dad, it would have been their dream to know I returned to study, weaving another thread into the whakapapa of my whānau.

I had the privilege of experiencing a student exchange at Esade Law School in Barcelona earlier this year. It is a private university that is highly regarded in Spain for studying law and has a business, economics and international law focus. The interesting and engaging courses that I studied were Global Alliances and Refugee Rights, Law and Literature, International Law and Artificial Intelligence, International Humanitarian Law, and Diplomatic and Consular Law. During my time at Esade I developed a deeper understanding of legal systems from a European perspective. This was particularly valuable, as it enabled me to compare and contrast the European legal concepts I studied with both my understanding of tikanga Māori and English Law in Aotearoa. Studying abroad encouraged me to reflect not only on different legal systems, but also on the values and worldviews that underpin them. The reflections that follow are shaped by this experience and are considered through the lens of two foundational tikanga Māori concepts: whanaungatanga and kaitiakitanga. These reflections are not intended as a comprehensive account of studying overseas, but rather as personal observations on the intersections of law, culture, identity, and place as they emerged through my experience.

Kōrerorero – Discussion

Whanaungatanga

Whanaungatanga is a fundamental tikanga Māori principle grounded in whakapapa, which focuses upon relationships that generate reciprocal obligations of care, support and collective responsibility.^[1] The Honourable Sir Joe Williams (KNZM) describes whanaungatanga as “the fundamental law of the maintenance of properly tended relationships”.^[2] Reflecting on it being the 40th anniversary of Ngā Rangahautira, I have been thinking about the significance of this rōpū for tauira ture Māori at Te Herenga Waka and the pride that comes with being a part of it. Ngā Rangahautira embodies whanaungatanga. It is present in kapa haka, netball, the Māori moot, the Māori negotiation, study wānanga, noho marae and many other valued kaupapa that bring us together across the year. It is found in the way we tautoko one another in the challenging journey through law school. It is this sense of belonging to something greater than oneself that gives the rōpū its enduring strength.

When I left Aotearoa for Spain, I was concerned that studying in a different cultural context might mean losing the sense of whanaungatanga that had grounded my first four years of studying law. However, the opposite proved to be true. During my time in Barcelona, I formed lasting friendships and meaningful memories with people from across the world; from Colombia, Peru, Mexico, Brazil, France, Austria, Poland, Italy, Sweden, Norway, Spain, and Switzerland. In my Law and Literature class, we read from brilliant writers such as Mary Oliver, Sylvia Plath, T.S. Eliot, and Ernest Hemingway. Maya Angelou’s poem “Human Family” particularly resonated with me:

“In minor ways we differ, in
major we're the same.
I note the obvious differences
between each sort and type, but
we are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.”

One example of how I experienced whanaungatanga in Spain is through the Spanish cultural practice of sobremesa. There is no equivalent word in English, however sobremesa refers to the time spent lingering at the table after a meal has finished, continuing conversation, relaxation, and social connection without rushing to leave. It reflects a broader cultural emphasis in Spain on slowing down and prioritising relationships. I experienced this deeply in moments such as sitting on the balcony of our flat at Casa Balmes discussing the day with Julia, Lina and Madzia, or soaking up the sunshine on the Esade terrace with Madi and Alejandra. The relationships and memories created through my exchange remain a treasured part of my journey. Saying goodbye was incredibly difficult, but it was also a reminder that new beginnings do not erase existing connections; rather, they become part of the ongoing whakapapa of relationships we carry with us.

Kaitiakitanga

One tikanga Māori concept that I particularly valued sharing in a predominantly European classroom was kaitiakitanga and the profound relationship that Māori, as tangata whenua, have with te taiao. Kaitiakitanga is often translated as “guardianship”,^[3] yet this English translation does not fully capture its meaning or scope. It constitutes a relationship of belonging with our living systems, rather than one of dominance over nature. Woven within it are generations of indigenous expertise that remain profoundly relevant to the challenges of our time.^[4] As Māori, our responsibilities extend across whakapapa, to our tūpuna, to those living today, and to generations yet to come.

When introducing myself through my pepeha, I explained how in te ao Māori people come to know one another first through their sacred maunga, awa and whenua. I explained that these are not merely metaphorical connections to place — those mountains and rivers really are my tūpuna. I was proud to share with my class in Europe that this understanding has shaped legal innovations in Aotearoa such as granting legal personality to natural features including Taranaki Maunga and Te Awa Tupua, reflecting a whakapapa-based worldview in which rivers and mountains are not resources to be owned but ancestors and taonga to be protected.^[5] Ultimately, these conversations with my classmates became some of the most rewarding aspects of my studies, creating space for wānanga and the exchange of different ways of knowing. I was proud to represent Aotearoa and share a worldview grounded in whakapapa, reciprocity, and responsibility.

Māori ki te ao

As I finish writing this piece, I am sitting in a café in London, surrounded by the warmth of summer and the hum of a city that is constantly moving. Yesterday I had the privilege of attending kapa haka with Ngāti Rānana London Māori Club—a global whānau 12,000 miles from Aotearoa. Having been overseas for several months, it was a particularly meaningful experience for me to reconnect with kapa haka, sing waiata, and connect with Māori living in London. This July I begin my final trimester studying a conjoint LLB and BA at Te Herenga Waka. Next year I will graduate and start my clerkship at Buddle Findlay during which I will be admitted as a barrister and solicitor of the High Court of New Zealand. When I began my law degree, I could not have foreseen the path that lay ahead. I did not yet understand the many ways in which studying law would challenge me, connect me with others, and carry me towards new beginnings. I was simply content to be 18 years old in Wellington, making friends in the dining room of Katharine Jermyn Hall. But with the support of Ngā Rangahautira, and the enriching opportunities I have experienced at Te Herenga Waka, I am only excited for what the next chapter will bring.

Looking back on my exchange, I have come to understand that new beginnings often require us to step beyond what is familiar. Whether through study exchange or other opportunities that challenge us, entering the unknown can be daunting. Yet on the other side of that uncertainty lies the opportunity to expand our pātaka mātauranga, form meaningful connections, and continue the endless process of becoming. Pā Moana Jackson, one of the founders of Ngā Rangahautira, was no stranger to courage; “being brave is just the deep breath you take before you start something difficult”.^[6]

Ngā kupu āpiti - Notes

[1] Hirini Moko Mead Tikanga Māori: Living by Māori Values (Revised ed, Huia Publishers, Wellington, 2016) at 31.

[2] Joseph Williams “Lex Aotearoa: an heroic attempt to map the Māori dimension in modern New Zealand law” (2013) 21 Taumauri | Waikato Law Review 1 at 5.

[3] Mead, above n 1, at 18.

[4] Marama Davidson “This House believes the sun should have never set on the British Empire” (Oxford Union Debate, Oxford, May 2026).

[5] Community Law Manual Taonga Māori: Legal personality for maunga, awa and other natural features of the land (online ed) .

[6] Tainui Stephens “Bravery is just a breath away” E-Tangata (online ed, 1 September 2024).

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