Knowledge systems

 

 What constitutes a knowledge system?

Fazely et al, (2020) define a knowledge system as an integrated, holistic, ways of understanding that can include practical knowledge, experiential and embodied ways of knowing (Fazely, 2020).
I also liked the definition from the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services  website (2024):
“A body of propositions that are adhered to, whether formally or informally, and are routinely used to claim truth”

 What role do knowledge systems play in society?

Knowledge systems are the basis of our societies and shape the way they function and inform how different functions of society interact. Knowledge systems inform economies, governing structures, shared values, and cultures (Fazely et al., 2020). As hinted in the ISPBE website’s definition above, knowledge systems operate within hegemonic systems, often used (intentionally and unintentionally) to reinforce power structures and political ideals, defining what is valued and important in that society.

Why must we rethink the knowledge systems we mostly engage with?

We need to integrate different ways of knowing to better understand and better act within the changing world we live in, to broaden the scope of our understanding (Fazely et al., 2020). We also need to embrace knowledge systems that sit outside the hegemonic structures in order to empower those who sit outside these structures, to challenge and reimagine prevailing economic, social, cultural power dynamics (Fazely et al., 2020).
Recent Census data on shows that Māori make up about 17% of the population of Aotearoa New Zealand (RNZ, 2024) and the knowledge systems of such a large proportion of society should be represented within that society’s knowledge system.
Alongside this, the right to have Mātauranga represented in our mainstream education system  is represented in the Te Tiriti o Waitangi provisions of Taonga (Article 2) and Nga tikanga katoa rite tahi (Article 3).

How can indigenous knowledge systems be utilised? 

Embracing different knowledge systems creates opportunities to enjoy the benefits of different ways of knowing and understanding, employing aspects of different systems to enrich and benefit society (Durie, 2005). For example, integrating Mātauranga Māori and scientific knowledge on an environmental issue provides a more holistic view of the problem, allowing it to be understood from multiple perspective (Hikuroa, 2017) and employ solutions provided by both knowledge systems – the empirical evidence of scientific research and the empirical evidence of generational observation and interaction with that environment.

·        Challenges of including indigenous knowledge systems in teaching and learning 

One of the key challenges of utilising and including Mātauranga Māori is a perception that this is an old, outdated system of knowledge that has no relevance to contemporary society rather than as a living, current, relevant knowledge system of value (Durie, 2005).
Another challenge of including Māori knowledge in contemporary teaching and learning is around resourcing – having a sufficient number of authoritative experts available to ensure Māori knowledge is not inadvertently domesticated by non-Māori (Smith, 2012) but is employed correctly and reflects Māori aspirations in the space in which it is used

      What is your understanding of Matauranga Māori as a knowledge system?

Mātauranga Māori is the inter-generational knowledge developed through scientific methods of observation and experimentation, explained from a Māori worldview. This system of knowledge pertains to understanding everything “visible and invisible existing in the Universe” (Hikuroa, 2017, p. 6). Mātauranga Māori contains frameworks through which Māori understand and describe the natural world and their place within it. Knowledge is carried and shared in different narrative forms – including waitata, pūrakau, maramataka, and whaktaukī.

References

         \   Durie, M. (2005). Indigenous Knowledge Within a Global Knowledge System. High Education Policy 18, 301–312. https://doi.org/10.1057/palgrave.hep.8300092

            Fazey, I., ., Schäpke, N., Caniglia, G., Hodgson, A., Kendrick, I., Lyon, C., Page, G., Patterson, J., Riedy, C., Strasser, T., Verveen, S., Adams, D., Goldstein, B., Klaes, M., Leicester, G., Linyard, A., McCurdy, A., Ryan, P., Sharpe, B., . . . Young, H. R. (2020). Transforming knowledge systems for life on Earth: Visions of future systems and how to get there. Energy Research & Social Science, 70, 101724. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. erss.2020.101724

           Hikuroa, D. (2017). Mātauranga Māori—the ūkaipō of knowledge in New Zealand, Journal of the Royal Society of New Zealand, 47:1, 5-10, DOI: 10.1080/03036758.2016.1252407  

S          Smith, G. H. (2012). Kaupapa Māori - the dangers of domestication. New Zealand Journal of Educational Studies, 47(2), 10-21. https://www.jstor.org/stable/42978775

Negative power & the power of not knowing

 

The power of not-knowing 

One time I decided not to learn or know something, though it was within my power to do so, was during the height of the ‘coding’ fad, when the NZ Curriculum was updated to incorporate a new ‘Digital Curriculum’ (2020). As many of you will remember, this caused widespread anxiety and panic amongst our teaching colleagues, who felt a whole new workload was being heaped upon them, the importance of which was yet to be proven. I was a Digital Educator at the time, and had seen a number of things come and go, and ridden the wave of the technology hype cycle a few times (VR, AR, 3d printing)  (see https://www.gartner.com/en/research/methodologies/gartner-hype-cycle).
At the time, I felt the demand for all children to learn how to code was driven industry and government fears about our ability to compete internationally in the technology field more than anything.
I reserved my panic, feeling that there were more important things for learners to focus on, and let others lead the way.  Soon enough the wave subsided, technology evolved and I was left without any regrets about not learning to code.

Negative power

One time that I practised the use of negative power was in an online meeting where I was asked to do a karakia to open the meeting. I am Pākehā, and was asked because it was known that I had some proficiency in te reo Māori (otira kāore ahau te tino mohio). I knew, or had the sense, that no one in the meeting really knew why a karakia was appropriate or why we should be offering one at all. It felt well intentioned but tokenistic, and I did not feel I had the cultural authority to present the karakia and so politely declined.
I didn't fully understand what I was doing at the time, and it is only after this week's learning that I know - recognising when I would be (knowingly or unknowingly) coming from a position of hegemonic power (Adkin, 2022) and privilege  - or 'Pākehā structural advantage' to use Shaw's (2024) term - to define Māori things in these terms. Negative power, the non-action, allowed me to refrain from crossing that ethical boundary.

 

References

Adkin, L., 2022 Hegemony and counter hegemony in Showing Theory to Know Theory 

https://doi.org/10.22215/stkt/al18 https://ecampusontario.pressbooks.pub/showingtheory/chapter/hegemony-and-counter-hegemony/

Ministry of Education (2020). Digital technologies and the technology learning area https://elearning.tki.org.nz/Teaching/Curriculum-learning-areas/Digital-technologies-and-the-technology-learning-area

Shaw, R., 2024, Richard Shaw: The Unsettled, RNZ National https://www.rnz.co.nz/audio/player?audio_id=2018933146

Small acts of activism

Where can you see establishing your own practices of activism, however small. 
Why are they necessary?

One way I can see practices of activism in my role is actually in line with the policies of my wider institution, which aspires to be Te Tiriti-led – though the act can feel like activism when it happens with some teaching teams and colleagues, depending on their perspectives: I ask, “where is Te Tiriti in this?” This comes up when looking at teaching and learning practices, and especially so when looking at assessment. It is a very small activism )a micro-activism), but necessary to remind others of our obligations and commitments, to keep everybody from forgetting about them or conveniently ignoring them – I feel like I’m interpellating them into the institution’s ambitions, which need support to come to life. In a way this is also counter-interpellating (Backer, 2019) aghaisn the hegemony of the iunstituion which has long been Pākehā/Western-centric in its approach to education and a long-history of excluding Māori as Māori (Bishop & Berryman, 2007). 

Are there things that you have said/will say "No!" to?

One case where I remember saying “no” came when a member of teaching staff wanted to remove all the te reo Māori from their online learning site and wanted to know how to do it. The headings of each section in the LMS were all bi-lingual, with te reo first Māori and English second (Aromatawai | Assessments, for example).  Some teaching staff resisted this and came up with many reasons why the reo should be removed. After arguing the case for reo in the LMS and being shouted down, I deferred their request and didn’t do as they had asked. It was a small act of resistance. Te reo Māori for all headings in the LMS has since become is part of the institution-wide LMS template, and cannot be removed, so I guess I won a little in the end. 

References

Backer, D. I. (2018). Interpellation, Counter-interpellation, and Education. Critical Education, 9(12), 1-21. https://doi.org/http://dx.doi.org/10.17613/M6VD6P449 

Bishop, R., Berryman, M. (2007). Culture Speaks : Cultural Relationships and Classroom Learning  Huia Publishers.