How Unity Changed the Course of Education

by Rebecca Thomas

There is no hiding from the weight we carry.

The past two years have left a mark on every educator, every Board member, every kaimahi who stepped through school gates each morning determined to give our tamariki a chance at learning, joy, and belonging.

The load has been unfair.

The expectations unethical.

The demands relentless.

And it wasn’t only teachers who carried it.

Our Boards — unpaid, unseen, and often isolated — held the line when others faltered. They guarded their kura with dignity while the ground beneath them shifted.

None of this was designed for our wellbeing.

It was designed to break us.

To exhaust us into silence.

To make us small enough to manage.

To force us to simply “get on with it.”

But to the quiet shock of those in power — we didn’t crumble.

We rose.

We grew.

We fought with truth, with evidence, with heart.

We wrote letters, signed petitions, shared intel, and waited for replies that never came — and still we lifted our voices.

We made noise — not chaos, but coordinated, thunderous, undeniable noise.

And yes, that noise rattled us. The fatigue was real. The frustration deep. Some days, even hope felt thin.

But within the storm, something sacred took root — something no policy, no decree, no political performance could extinguish.

Kotahitanga. Unity. Our collective heartbeat.

"Ki te kotahi te kākaho ka whati, ki te kāpuia, e kore e whati." 

If one reed stands alone, it will break. If they are bunched together, they will not.

This is what saved us.

Every Board who refused to compromise the dignity of their school.

Every teacher who shared information, analysed legislation, or calmly challenged mistruths.

Every Māori leader, principal, kaiako, and whānau member who steadied the waka through whakapapa, tikanga, and relational practice.

Every educator who sat on the marae of the internet hunting for loopholes, lies, and legislative shadows.

Every whānau member who asked questions or backed their kura.

Each act of defiance — big or small — gave someone else enough light to get through another day.

Every clue uncovered was a crack in their gilded armour.

Every voice raised was a new strand in the rope binding us together.

And because of you — all of you — our children will one day inherit something safer than what we endured.

The tide is shifting now — not because the storm simply passed, but because thousands refused to be swept away. The monster is curling inward, licking its wounds. And for the first time in a long while, we have space to breathe. To look to the horizon. To decide what comes next — and how we ensure this harm is never repeated.

This is our wero.

A challenge to the next government.

And an invitation to rebuild with integrity, not ego.

What Must Come Next

1. The Education Portfolio Must Be Held With Care

Not as a stepping stone.

Not as a performance stage.

Not as a political weapon.

We need a minister who understands the gravity of this mahi — someone who will protect our children’s future, not gamble with it.

2. AEC Must Be Formally Recognised as a Professional Body

Those who stood in the storm have proven their valour.

They became our defenders of truth, our translators of policy, our watchdogs against harm.

The AEC earned its mana not by appointment, but by action.

When others stayed silent, they analysed, translated, protected, exposed.

They must now become the professional body that sits between unions, government, Ministry, and ERO — a guardian ensuring no reform, no policy, no ideology ever destabilises our system so violently again.

3. Equity Must Be Tackled Honestly, Bravely, and Without Delay

No more slogans.

No more targets without tools.

No more pretending inequity is simply an attendance graph.

4. A Network of Flagship North-East Schools Must Be Created

Let these schools rise in the very places where marginalisation has echoed for generations.

These schools will:

• be centres of excellence in relational pedagogy

• be saturated with resources and wraparound support

• host teacher trainees and researchers

• operate as two-year residencies for kaiako

• share their learning across Aotearoa

Teachers who serve in these flagship spaces will be acknowledged by AEC — our modern service stripes of courage and unity.

If successful, this model will expand and grow.

5. All Research and Reform Must Be Vetted by the AEC

Never again will overseas ideologies or political experiments masquerade as evidence-based reform.

If it is not suitable for Aotearoa — it will not pass.

Full stop.

The storm is passing.

Our breath is returning.

And as Claire Amos reminded us — yes, we will continue to fight, petition, and protect education.

But now we must also remember to seed hope.

To flood our communities with the light they deserve.

To show our tamariki that courage is contagious, and unity powerful.

We stood together.

We refused to break.

And because we chose to rise as one, a new chapter is not just possible — it is already forming on the horizon.

He waka eke noa.

The paddles are back in our hands.

And together, we will steer toward a future worthy of the children who depend on us.