The Stories We Entrust to Māori Communicators

Cherish Wilkinson, Ngāti Porou, Rongowhakaata | Principal Advisor Māori Communications, Department of Internal Affairs | Director, Hono Communications

“There are so many stories to be told, and we need more Māori communicators to entrust our stories to.”

For me, that is at the heart of why Māori communications matters.

Māori storytelling has the power to amplify Māori voices, empower iwi, hapū and whānau, challenge stereotypes and shape narratives that can pave the way for positive change.

It is also a privilege.

It is a privilege to tell and share our stories.

My career in communications has spanned more than 15 years, across different roles and organisations, and my pathway hasn’t been a straight one. Over time, I’ve found myself increasingly drawn to the intersection of communications, te ao Māori, storytelling and relationships.

Today, I’m a Principal Advisor Māori Communications with Te Manu Karere Communications Group at Te Tari Taiwhenua Department of Internal Affairs, where my work includes strategic communications, storytelling, Māori audience engagement, reputation and risk, and supporting organisations to strengthen their ability to communicate and engage with Māori.

I’m also the Director of Hono Communications, my own communications consultancy, where I work with leaders and teams to build the confidence, capability and practical skills to communicate and engage with Māori in ways that strengthen trust, deepen relationships and create lasting impact.

Both roles have reinforced for me that communication is ultimately about people and relationships.

Telling stories from within

Too often, communications can become transactional.

A communicator arrives, gathers the story, produces the content, gets the coverage and moves on to the next project.

But what happens to the relationship?

What happens to the people who shared their story?

What happens to the kōrero after the campaign ends?

For me, good Māori communications starts somewhere different. It starts with relationships and with understanding the people, kaupapa and communities behind the story.

We need to be telling stories from within kaupapa and communities, rather than simply telling them from the outside.

That doesn’t mean only Māori can tell stories about Māori. It does mean that authentic representation, cultural understanding and genuine relationships matter.

Māori communicators bring a depth of cultural insight, lived experience and a holistic worldview to the way we practice communications. Our knowledge of tikanga and our connections with whānau, hapū, iwi and hapori Māori can help bring out the essence of the stories we are entrusted to share.

There is also a humility that comes with understanding that the story isn’t ours.

We are entrusted with it.

And that responsibility should shape how we approach the work.

Relationships are the work

For me, Māori approaches to communication reinforce something that the wider communications profession can sometimes lose sight of: communication is not simply about transmitting information.

It is about relationships.

Kanohi ki te kanohi: meeting face to face.

He kanohi kitea: being a familiar and trusted face.

These are not simply cultural concepts to be added to a communications plan. They are approaches that remind us that relationships are built over time, through presence, reciprocity, listening and two-way kōrero.

You don’t build trust by appearing only when you need a story.

The relationship should continue beyond the story, the project or the job.

That is particularly important when we’re working with whānau, hapū and iwi.

When relationships are sustained, kōrero can continue. Stories can be shared, developed and carried across generations. They become part of the fabric of whānau, hapū, iwi and communities rather than simply becoming content that disappears when a campaign ends.

We need more Māori communicators

Māori talent will continue to be in demand, and I believe Māori communicators will continue to grow in number and influence.

But there is still work to do.

Māori communicators can be fragmented, often working alone, in small teams or in organisations where they may be the only Māori communicator in the room.

Support and development opportunities can be ad hoc, and there are limited formal pathways specifically designed around the development and progression of Māori communications professionals.

That presents an opportunity.

We need to create stronger networks where Māori communicators can find each other, share knowledge, mentor one another and develop together.

We operate and produce our best mahi when we work together.

And we need to think more deeply about the stories we are telling now and whether they serve a higher purpose.

Are we simply producing content?

Or are we contributing to something that strengthens identity, understanding, relationships and the ability of future generations to know who they are and where they come from?

Creating my own pathway

My own career has also taught me that there isn’t one pathway into, or through, communications.

I’ve worked in organisational environments and now I’m also building my own consultancy through Hono Communications.

For me, that has been an opportunity to take the experience I’ve gained and create something that reflects the kind of work I believe in.

It has also reinforced my belief that Māori communicators can shape the profession in many different ways, as advisors, strategists, leaders, storytellers, consultants, researchers, business owners and decision-makers.

We don’t need to fit ourselves into one mould.

And we don’t need to wait for someone else to create the space for us.

Seeing ourselves in the profession

One of the reasons I’ve put my hand up to represent the Te Tiriti o Waitangi pou on the PRINZ Committee is because I want to help create more visibility and connection for Māori communications practitioners.

I want Māori practitioners to be able to look at the profession and see themselves reflected in it.

To see people who understand their experience.

To find mentors and peers.

To have opportunities to develop and lead.

And ultimately, to know that there is a place for them here.

Because representation matters.

Sometimes seeing someone else doing the mahi is what allows you to imagine yourself doing it too.

So to the Māori communicator coming through, whether you’re a journalist thinking about making the move into PR, an advisor considering your first management role, someone working in an iwi organisation, or you’re simply trying to figure out where you fit. Know that there is a place for you.

Bring your lived experience.

Bring your worldview.

Bring your reo.

Bring your relationships.

Bring your stories.

And when you have the opportunity, make the pathway a little easier for the person coming behind you.

The stories we tell matter.

And so do the people we entrust to tell them.

He aha te mea nui o te ao? Māku e kī atu, he tangata, he tangata, he tangata.
What is the most important thing in this world? It is people. It is people. It is people.