Unpicking embedded colonialism
Reflections on engagements with education and speech language therapy
This post goes round the mountain a bit…do bear with me as I walk through some of the complexities and reflections. Firstly, I share my own experience, then I link it to recent research findings on the topic. This is a longer post than normal; I’ve debated all week whether to share it or not - the personal is political, but I’m never sure how much of the personal to share in this internet age.
For international readers, I use some te reo Māori in this post. If you’re ever unsure about the meaning, please do visit https://maoridictionary.co.nz/ to clarify the meanings of Māori words used.
I recently received an email from the Ministry of Education employed Speech Language Therapist (SLT) regarding provision of speech-language services of our child.
The entire exchange is infuriating, but it is also a classic example of colonialism in practice. It’s a case study of how Indigenous identity is erased from services and supports, and how state actors require the ‘other’ to put in a large amount of energy just to maintain a barely manageable status quo.
For those who are unaware, my daughter is Māori. She feels most at home with her whānau. Whether it be a whānau hui at her nan’s house, hanging out at the marae in her gumboots and weatherproof jacket, attending tangihanga, or just cruising on the weekend; the open spaces, the sense of belonging, the acceptance of who she is; these all happen for her with her whānau.
In terms of her schooling, she has predominantly been part of whānau units and Māori-centred spaces. That is, she is part of classrooms within mainstream schools that deliver the educational curriculum in culturally centred and appropriate ways. English is the primary language medium, but there is a high use of te reo Māori (Māori language), kapa haka (cultural practices), and relational engagement. The one divergence from these spaces and learning approaches earlier this year in a mainstream classroom was a colossal failure all round.
With regards to my daughter’s education, her ethnicity is listed as Māori across every document. I am very intentional about this; I know of the erasure that occurs in colonial systems if you are not clear and intentional about stating these whakapapa links.
In Aotearoa New Zealand, it is the responsibility of the Ministry of Education to provide speech-language services to school-aged children, both Māori and non-Māori. Even if we receive disability-related funding (such as Individualised Funding), we cannot use this funding to meet any speech-language need, despite long wait lists, inadequate service provision, and - as I outline below - culturally incompetent service.
Families with experience of such things know that the current provision of speech-language services is woefully inadequate. Typically, the therapist does an assessment, leaves a list of “to do’s” with the teaching staff and disappears until another request for assessment is made. Occasionally, the SLT will engage one-on-one with a child, but this is only in the most severe of cases.
When my 11-year-old was first starting school, she was the eighth child on a wait list at her school for speech-language services. The Ministry of Education (MOE) did not have sufficient SLT’s employed, so her school simply…missed out. A result of the previous decade of service cuts to education.
After 15 months of absent services, I emailed the regional head, saying:
MOE is contractually responsible for providing the SLT support and therapy that our daughter needs.
It is now week 8 of Term 1; our daughter has still not seen the promised SLT from last year. This is simply unacceptable. As you know, she is in Year 2 and to date has not once seen an MOE-employed SLT during her entire schooling.
Please let me know exactly when we can expect an MOE-employed SLT to meet with her and provide the SLT support she requires. At a bare minimum I expect a SLT to meet with her before the end of Term 1, to assess her needs and to have a therapy plan ready to go for Term 2.
If MOE are unable to employ the required staff to deliver the required support (assessment before the end of Term 1 and a therapy plan ready for Term 2) we will employ someone privately and invoice MOE directly. It is MOE’s responsibility to provide this service to an adequate level, and currently it is our vulnerable 6-year-old who is missing out on much needed support and therapy.
It will shock no-one to hear that MOE suddenly came to the party and very quickly provided a SLT to deliver much needed speech-language support. I was so relieved and thankful to finally have support that it never even occurred to me to consider if this support was culturally competent or appropriate.
Back to our more recent experience, which was rather more timely - within two school terms of my initial request (which was harrumphed at due to her age - MOE is now claiming that language is embedded by age 7-8 and refusing to provide SLT services for older children; I was steadfastly firm and insistent and they relented) our child was seen, assessed, and a SLT plan delivered to the school.
This time around I am aware of how crucial it is to have culturally appropriate services and support. Not only does our daughter have a legally embedded right to services that support her cultural identity, but services which don’t embed this into their approach create barriers and make it so much harder for her to engage.
The resources provided by the SLT were entirely suitable if the child was Pākehā and operated from said worldview. The pictures and iconography in the games and materials were clearly written by a white, middle-class American - and reflected items culturally familiar to those in this cultural milieu. For Pākehā in Aotearoa New Zealand, there is a slight sociocultural gap, but nonetheless such a resource is easily implemented and used, without too much cognitive stretch.
As I mentioned earlier, our daughter is Māori. Her ethnicity is clearly stated across all education enrolment documents. She is part of a whānau unit in the school; her classmates are Māori; her primary teacher is Māori; her teaching support staff are Māori.
Which makes it even more perplexing to me that the provided resources to support her speech and language development were utterly alien and failed to reflect even a basic iconography of her cultural background, let alone any understanding of Indigenous learning methods.
Well, not that perplexing - this is colonisation in action:
Forcing Indigenous children to use tools that belong to the coloniser
A state service (MOE) that makes assumptions of universalism
Lack of effort to update resources to be culturally appropriate.
An over-stretched SLT using easily available resources and without the time or training to think through the cultural implications.
An expectation that Māori staff will do the cultural work for free/on top of their workload.
State employed staff who undermine and devalue the impact of cultural identities.
An assumption that only Māori children who speak te reo Māori/attend an immersion school such as kura kaupapa will benefit from Māori centered resources.
All that work to get a service that was culturally inappropriate, and which provided an alien and inappropriate resource that teaching staff will have to expend additional valuable time, energy, and expertise on to translate into something usable.
It is infuriating. As I noted in my response:
There is no mention of culturally appropriate games or SLT in your report. [Name] is Māori and operates predominantly from an Indigenous worldview; she is most at home on the marae with her whānau. The games and ideas you suggest are clearly based on non-Māori and non-Indigenous ideas.
I see no evidence in any of the games suggested of Māori children, families, or motifs. I would have thought that MOE would have a kete of resources for Māori children that reflects cultural ideas and knowledges, including ways to incorporate oral games. It would seem that the work of indigenising SLT resources also falls on her teaching support team.
Why does any of this matter?
Representation matters. Being able to use resources that reflect the people, imagery, and stories that children are familiar with means they can use these resources and that they are meaningful and make sense. When images are unfamiliar and strange, the learning is harder, takes more cognitive effort, and has reduced impact for positive outcomes (in this case, improving speech and language).
Language, culture and identity are inextricably linked. Where children wrapped in an environment rich in the language(s) and practices of their whānau and home they thrive as thinkers, learners and talkers who stand strong in their identity. This includes having access to resources that reflect the images and people they see around them.
SLT in Aotearoa remains Pākehā-centric
Widening the lens from our own personal experience, within Aotearoa, tamariki Māori are significantly overrepresented in the numbers requiring speech, language and communication support. As such, speech-language therapy services ought to be culturally appropriate for tamariki Māori and their whānau. Yet, there is a dearth of Kaupapa Māori centred research and resources.
A recent scoping review investigating Māori speech-language research in Aotearoa New Zealand. They found distressingly few speech-language therapy publications related to Māori. Not only that, but there was no aspect of speech-language therapy for Māori that has been researched to a level sufficient to inform evidence-based practice. Even further, no research studies have been conducted by Māori, with Māori, to understand what speech language and communication needs mean to Māori as a collective. The authors stated:
“The first major barrier for tamariki accessing and receiving support is the English language. There are very few external practitioners (RTLBs, psychologists, regional nurses, speech therapists, social workers) who are fluent in te reo Māori, and none with any in-depth experience and knowledge of TAM [Te Aho Matua]. Almost all practitioners think that it is acceptable to speak and administer tests in English, inside a kura” (Meechan & Brewer, p.3).
Following on from this, Kohere-Smiler, Malone, Purdy, and Brewer (2024) have written Te Koekoe o te Tui: A Guiding Framework Towards Indigenizing Speech, Language, and Communication Support for Tamariki-Mokopuna of Te Aitanga a Mahaki iwi. This framework starts with how the history of colonisation in Aotearoa shaped a pathway of inequity for Māori children in Aotearoa. The authors note that in the space of speech-language therapy there is a common belief that speech-language therapists who are te reo Māori speakers are then able to deliver speech-language therapy as it currently is, just in te reo Māori.
This means that SLTs are effectively translating Pākehā theory and practice into te reo Māori (this is good) BUT are then minimising the associated tikanga, kawa and mātauranga Māori components (meaning that SLT remains culturally alien). This approach fails to realise communication support needs from within a Māori worldview. The roots and history of SLT are thus kept void of any links to te Ao Māori, creating a cultural mismatch between the speech-language therapy profession and what communication support could and should look like for tamariki Māori.
Kohere-Smiler et al (2024) conclude:
SLT works extremely well for those whom it was intended to support, that is, Pākeha. Research, resource, policy, practice and the typical SLT demographic is significantly geared towards providing rich nourishment for Pākeha children with speech language and communication needs. There is a small group of Māori SLTs making significant gains towards a bicultural-Te Tiriti led SLT pathway, but there is a huge gulf between SLT as it currently is and te Ao Māori …
… SLT roles that are indoctrinated by a world that is non-Māori [and] perpetuate a system that continues to marginalise Māori through suppression of the Māori voice, Māori lived experience, and Māori ways of knowing, being and doing … the entire profession (including the systems and structures that maintain SLT in Aotearoa) must devolve that power and control to Māori whānau, hapu, iwi, and Kaupapa Māori Education to lead this particular sector of support.
It is oddly comforting to learn that our individual experiences are reflective of a wider issue; we are not alone in our frustration. Nor is our experience a one-off or the result of one bad apple. Rather, it is reflective of the lasting impacts of colonialism in Aotearoa.
Unpicking these impacts is hard and slow going. Hats off to those in the trenches, doing the mahi of creating a framework and making the arguments needed for change.
As a parent, it is hard to pushback when service provision is so stretched that you feel grateful for crumbs. Yet all our children deserve a properly funded service, not a cobbled together patchwork of ad hoc resources barely making a dent. Properly funding services requires a properly thought through approach to tax and state-funded services, not this current ad hoc slashing of services.
As a former SLT (practising in the early 2000s) I can only face-palm in disbelief. I’m sorry to hear you’ve had this experience. Ironically, when I was training SLTs circa 2006-2010, graduate SLTs were struggling to find employment with the MoE, as the country went from training 30 therapists per year to around 80. As far as resourcing goes, “special education” is just not a priority for successive governments, so there is never enough funding and the pay and conditions are so poor as to not make it a desirable career choice.
Have you thought about getting in touch with the NZSTA (the body that oversees speech-language therapy in Aotearoa); they may be able to connect you with local services who are more appropriate. While I acknowledge it won’t help your daughter, it may be worthwhile sharing your experience with training providers (Canterbury, Auckland, and Massey) to improve their training, research, and - from the NZSTA - accreditation requirements.
During lockdown I was doing an Audiology degree (I failed but that's another story). When it came to paediatric audiology tests, the word lists were all English words like cat, hat, rain, etc. I looked at the Pasifika boy who was in front of me, and thought, he won't have any relation to these lists, so he won't 'hear'.
I lobbied the Audiology Society to start developing more appropriate words lists - and fortunately the then President took up the baton. Not sure where it has got to. And yeah, I absolutely agree with you in terms of appropriate materials.