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In February 2025, I had the opportunity to support an Indigenous knowledge exchange in . This trip was the first annual knowledge exchange of Nicholas Reo’s Canada Excellence Research Chair project, titled Coastal Relationalities and Regeneration (CORR). These trips are a key part of how we are learning from one another and advancing Indigenous reclamation of land, language, and culture. 

I offer this reflection as a settler who has been shaped by my relationships with land and people, in the place where I have spent most of my life. I share this to follow the protocol of introductions,¹ and to situate myself in the context of relationships I always carry with me. In Indigenous research, you bring your whole self to the process, and no one is an objective outside observer; we are all part of the circle of learning. I am deeply grateful to have been welcomed into this new circle of relationships, which will continue to guide me as I learn how to be a good relative to the lands and Indigenous peoples of the places that hold me.     

As part of my role with the �鶹��ƵKM Hub, I am supporting the CORR research project. CORR includes four “stars” in a learning “constellation” – (Vancouver Island), Anishinaabek (Eastern/Central Great Lakes region), (Hawai’i), and Māori (Aotearoa). Our knowledge exchange in Aotearoa brought together representatives from each of these communities. 

When we arrived at the  at Whāingaroa (Raglan) we were welcomed with a pōwhiri (welcoming ceremony). It was incredible to witness this moment of Indigenous peoples from around the world coming together in this long-established tradition of exchange. 

As part of the cultural exchange, one of our Māori hosts, language warrior, and champion surfer,  taught a few of us how to surf. As he helped me catch an approaching wave he said, “Make it happen.” This sense of urgency is in the work that each of the four communities are doing to reclaim their ways of being. This international collaboration offers an opportunity to uplift one another and propel that work forward, to help one another “make it happen”.

And it’s happening. We visited two Māori schools in the Te Hauke (Hawkes Bay) area, and I was blown away to see so many Māori children confident in their language and cultural practices. That phrase, “make it happen” came up again when we visited . The founders of this Māori performing arts school explained that when they started, they didn’t have all the answers, but they knew it needed to be done, so they made it happen.

Our last day together was spent cooking a . The women shared stories and laughter in the kitchen as we prepared the vegetables and stuffing, while the men worked on the fire outside. While the food was cooked in the earth, we drove up the mountain to a lookout point where our hosts, Matariki Wainohu and her father Zach Makoare, told us the stories of the landscape in front of us. It was a powerful reminder that Indigenous histories are written on the land. It speaks to the persistence of Indigenous knowledge, that despite centuries of colonization and erasure, the land remembers. 

I often found new depths of understanding in the in-between moments. It was in the salve with plant medicine that Anishinaabe traditional medicine practitioner Lori Gambardella shared with me to help heal the scrapes on my knees from surfing. It was the impromptu stop on the side of the road so Maioha could share some teachings about a plant he had spotted there. It was the stories and songs shared in the back of the van on our many rides between places and activities. It was finding shared interests and thinking about reclaiming language with a new friend while we drove to the next cultural site. It was in the laughter shared that brought us good medicine for our journey.  

One afternoon when we were in Whāingaroa, Angeline Greensill, a respected Māori Elder, scholar, and Indigenous rights activist came over from next door to see what we were up to. We learned how her community fought for and (at one point a golf course). She told us that her mother was always welcoming people to their land, especially Indigenous people, because, as she would say, “The land lives when it’s got people on it.” It was an honor to witness the truth in that statement.