Weaving Connections into the Classroom
At a small Northland kura (school), te taiao (the environment) isn’t just a backdrop for learning — it’s at the very heart of it.
For Mina Pomare-Peita, the tumuaki of Te Kura Taumata O Panguru, nurturing a deep connection to the land and local culture is central to how her ākonga (students) learn, grow, and find their place in the world. With 25 years of leadership experience behind her, Mina has built an education philosophy rooted in indigenous knowledge, environmental stewardship, and ākonga agency.
Te Kura Taumata O Panguru serves around 140 ākonga from Year 1 to 13, with an early childhood program for four-year-olds “We can’t separate our rangatahi (young people) from the whenua,” she says. “It’s who they are, where they come from. If we lose that connection, we lose a part of ourselves.”
Mina’s approach aligns with growing neuroscience research on how explicitly engaging ākonga (learners) in meaningful, culturally relevant ways helps shape good learning outcomes. She says the evidence has long been visible in her classrooms.
“When tamariki feel connected — to each other, to their place, to their language — they’re open to learning,” she explains. “And when learning feels real, it sticks.”
In her kura, te taiao isn’t a subject — it’s a way of being. Mina often uses the metaphor of the korimako bellbird to talk about environmental health and cultural wellbeing. When native species thrive, so do the people who belong to that land.
Sixteen years ago, concerned about low science enrolments among Māori ākonga and the disconnect between rangatahi and their whenua, Mina helped establish Noho Taiao — environmental education camps grounded in mātauranga Māori.
Held first in summer and now expanded into winter programs, these camps have students restoring waterways through riparian planting, collecting seaweed, and learning traditional practices like rongoā (plant medicine).
“The objectives of Noho Taiao are to develop in learners a love of their environment, of the place where they are living, of its social history, of the bio-diversity that exists there, and of the way in which people have responded and continue to respond to the environment.”
The impact has been generational. “Some of the tamariki (children) who came through those first camps are now scientists and working in senior government roles as kaitiaki of the land,” Mina says.
Another cornerstone of Te Kura Taumata O Panguru is its full transition to teaching in te reo Māori. Mina insists it wasn’t just about language preservation, but about giving students power over their own narratives.
This principle of ākonga agency runs deep. Mina describes a recent literacy project where ākonga baked Matariki star-shaped cookies, using the activity to weave together cooking, writing, measurement, and cultural storytelling.
“It’s real learning — they’re using their hands, their language, their stories. And they’ll remember it because it matters to them.”
Mina is equally passionate about tailoring education to each tamaiti (child’s) readiness. At Te Kura Taumata O Panguru, no one is rushed into tests or assessments. “I have a Year 10 ākonga, who struggles with reading and writing, but asked if he could take the CAA tests in September. “He wasn’t asked to, he wanted to, he took full ownership of this decision.
“So, I’ve met with his whānau and we will support his choice. We’re not here to tick boxes,” Mina says firmly. “We’re here to see them succeed on their terms.”
Her belief in real-world, place-based learning extends to teaching about responsibility and consequences. After a trip to a local beach to study an invasive plant species, Mina and her team had to counsel ākonga over poor behaviour during the outing.
“It became a teaching moment,” she recalls. “We talked about choices, mana, and the responsibility we carry, not just for ourselves, but for each other and our whenua.”
More than anything, Mina sees the kura as a place for ākonga to grow strong in identity and purpose.
“When our tamariki know who they are, where they come from, and why they matter — that’s when you see magic happen.”