Educational Leadership

When I look back on my academic career, there are many things we can be proud of. Our Māori and Pacific Admission Scheme (MAPAS) students now make up over 30 percent of the medical intake on a yearly basis. Our students are excelling despite many of them coming from environments of poverty and social exclusion. We have a pipeline of tertiary academic success that is evidence-based and world-leading. We teach Māori health in a way that allows students to see and understand the role of racism and privilege as basic determinants of ethnic health inequities. Our research is positioned within a Māori worldview that promotes innovative kaupapa Māori epidemiology and qualitative methods. 

For all of this, I’m grateful.

I’m less grateful for the lack of progress for Māori (and gender) equity in university promotion processes. These still allow for white male overrepresentation at professor and associate professor level, despite a stated commitment to equity and Māori te Tiriti rights. 

And there remain the expectations for Māori service — which is frequently undervalued, yet is pivotal to achieving the equity successes that we’re seeing. 

Those of us who fill the academy spaces with our Māori presence, despite these spaces often being unsafe and potentially harmful, often grapple with this tension. We’re always mindful of that service — it’s what keeps us going — because we know that our presence here makes a difference to those following in our footsteps. 

But there is a personal toll too, and that will continue as long as the university remains a place where Māori experiences are kept at the margins — rather than at the centre where they belong.

When academics were asked to draw, write and reflect on their career journeys, the results were revealing. While men were free to focus on their careers, the picture was more complicated for women.