Aotearoa’s Schools Just Taught the World a Lesson in Democracy — Over 1,000 Boards Standing as One

by ELV

After the Government removed Boards’ legal duty to give effect to Te Tiriti, more than 1,000 schools united — not out of politics, but principle.

Boards Were Not Just Ignored — They Were Contradicted

In the same email, Boards were told:

• The Government alone would carry Treaty obligations.

• Boards should instead focus on “student achievement.”

• The explicit Treaty clause was removed because “parents and volunteers” shouldn’t hold constitutional responsibility.

  
  

Yet over 1,000 schools have publicly affirmed that Te Tiriti is not a burden — it is a responsibility they willingly, proudly carry.

Not because the law tells them to.

But because whakapapa, mana, justice and learning demand it.

Boards did not ask to be protected from Te Tiriti.

They asked the Government to protect it with them.

And the response was silence.

The Email That Arrived Too Late

Tuesday, 18 November 2025, 3:13pm.

Into inboxes across the motu landed a calm, polished update from the Minister of Education — reassuring, confident, neatly structured.

And buried within it, this sentence:

“The Ministry’s standard-setting function will… continue to consult fully with the sector, including principals… Your expectations and experience will remain central…”

On its own, it sounds collaborative — even hopeful.

But here’s the part the Minister did not acknowledge:

• The Bill removing Boards’ legal duty to “give effect to Te Tiriti” had already passed its third reading on 11 November.

• It had already received Royal assent on 17 November.

• It was already law.

The decision was made. 

The door was closed. 

And only then — consultation was promised.

That timestamp is not political commentary.

 It is evidence.

You cannot invite people into the room after the table has been cleared.

You cannot promise Boards their experience will remain “central” when the most significant education law change in decades proceeded without their voices shaping it.

You cannot reassure the sector that you are listening after the very act of not listening.

This isn’t semantics.

It’s trust.

Schools Were Told to Accept the Decision — Quietly

The email framed the amendment as reasonable, tidy, rational — as though Boards had misunderstood their own role.

But Boards understood perfectly.

They knew removing the Treaty clause was not administrative housekeeping.

It was constitutional signalling.

It was structural downgrading.

It was an ideological choice dressed as efficiency.

They knew it would shape resourcing, accountability, policy interpretation, and equity work for years to come.

So they stood up — publicly, courageously, collectively.

There was no mole feeding instructions.

No dictator issuing orders.

No union goading anyone at gunpoint.

Just thousands of schools, reading the same law change, in the same belated email, feeling the same deep wound, and arriving at the same conclusion without needing to be told.

The hurt was real.

The decision was unjust.

And the unity was organic — unprecedented.

We cannot think of any other moment in our educational history where thousands of schools stood together so naturally.

Not to grandstand.

But to protect the foundation of education in Aotearoa.

The World Is Watching

And imagine, for a moment, how this looks beyond our shores —

A country internationally admired for bicultural partnership, equity-driven schooling, and courageous curriculum work suddenly watching its own Government retreat from Te Tiriti while its schools rise to defend it.

What must the world be thinking?

That in Aotearoa, it is not politicians but principals, trustees, teachers, whānau, and tamariki who uphold the promises of 1840.

That when leadership falters, the education sector becomes the conscience of the nation.

That the global standard-bearer for relational, culturally grounded education is being led not from Parliament — but from school staffrooms and board tables.

And they would be right.

And we are so deeply proud — because this moment sends a message to the world, to every educator watching from afar: that in New Zealand, we recognise justice when it’s threatened, we recognise truth when it’s spoken, and we protect both because we spend our days in the company of young people who deserve nothing less.

This profession knows what integrity looks like — and it has just shown the world.

The Government’s Promise Now Becomes the Sector’s Leverage

If the Minister truly believes:

• consultation will be full,

• expectations will guide policy,

• sector expertise is central,

then Boards are entitled — obligated — to hold her to it.

Because right now, the evidence points in the opposite direction.

The contradiction is clear:

You cannot both remove the legal requirement to uphold Te Tiriti and claim Boards’ leadership still shapes the system.

You cannot shift Treaty obligations to the Crown and say partnership remains intact.

You cannot promise collaboration after legislating without it.

What Integrity Requires Now

Not defensiveness.

Not more carefully worded press statements.

Not another pivot to phonics, attendance, or assessment data.

Just four courageous steps:

1. Acknowledge the sector was not consulted.

2. Recognise the harm, disappointment, and mistrust caused.

3. Apologise — sincerely and publicly.

4. Reinstate the legal obligation for Boards to give effect to Te Tiriti.

Because make no mistake — the world is watching.

Other education systems are looking at us and thinking one of two things:

“Shit — if thousands of schools can take a unified stand for Indigenous rights, evidence, democracy, and relational education… and still be ignored… maybe authoritarianism doesn’t arrive wearing military boots — maybe it slips in through legislation and press releases.”

or—

“Look at Aotearoa — a nation whose educators have such moral clarity, such collective courage, such unshakeable commitment to equity, that even a Government can admit it got it wrong and course-correct. That is what humility and modern leadership look like.”

Which legacy will we choose?

That is how leadership is rebuilt.

That is how partnership is honoured.

That is how democracy stays healthy.

And in a country built on Te Tiriti, anything less is unacceptable.

Boards, This Is Your Mandate

You were told your expectations remain central. 

So centre them.

Write the letters.

Request the apology.

Call for the reversal.

Pass resolutions.

Ask the questions publicly.

Refuse to be sidelined in decisions that shape your communities.

This isn’t activism — it is governance.

And it is your legal, moral, historical responsibility.

Minister — Hear the Call and Answer

The schools have already spoken.

Loudly.

Respectfully.

Collectively.

The question now is not whether the sector understands the Government.

It’s whether the Government is willing to understand the sector.

Admitting you got it wrong is not political weakness — it is a legacy-defining strength.

So apologise.

Repair the breach.

Return Te Tiriti protections to where they belong.

Because the boards of Aotearoa will not forget what you told them.

Nor will they stop expecting you to mean it.

And remember — the world is watching.

This is the same country that once showed humanity in the face of a pandemic, choosing collective care over individual convenience.

The same nation travellers seek out because they believe in the story we tell — 100% Pure, generous of spirit, principled, grounded in whenua and whanaungatanga.

The place people point to when asked, “What does hope look like?”

So the world’s educators, governments, journalists, and future leaders are waiting to see what happens next.

Will New Zealand still be the nation that leads with courage, humility, and justice — or the one that quietly shrugs off its own promises?

What we choose now will teach others how to lead.

Let history record it clearly — when power turned away,

Aotearoa’s schools did not.

They stood.

Together.

1,000 strong.