Michael Steedman: a different path
1 December 2025
Kapa haka and Māori martial arts helped Michael Steedman connect to his Māoritanga. Now he’s supporting the next generation to find their own paths.
Michael Steedman’s associations with Waipapa Taumata Rau extend back decades, to a time when the pathways for Māori students looked very different from how they do now.
“There are paths today,” says the University’s Kaiarataki, Deputy Pro Vice-Chancellor Māori, “that allow students to come back to themselves and discover meaningful relationships with te ao Māori.”
As someone charged with overseeing success for Māori students and staff, and creating initiatives that allow Māori culture to thrive, Michael (Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei, Ngāti Whātua ki Kaipara, Te Uri o Hau) is committed to forging ahead on those paths.
“Data projections show the youngest populations in Tāmaki Makaurau over the next 20 years are Māori and Pacific. So, unless we lift the skill base and experiences of that demographic, we won’t realise that potential. We have a responsibility to be part of that transformation,” he says.
“This University has made a large contribution to society, and we can make an even bigger one for our future generations.”
Connecting through kapa haka
Michael grew up in Helensville, with a strong understanding of his whakapapa, which also includes Celtic and Scottish roots. It was “a very country upbringing”, he says, imbued with subtle yet meaningful Māori practices, such as eating pūpū (mud snails) and scattering the shells across the driveway.
“We did Māori things at home, but we didn’t have the reo. I knew who I was – we went to marae hui and kaupapa occasionally – but as kids we didn’t have the deeper understanding of tikanga,” he recalls.
“My grandparents were from that generation where they were discouraged from using the reo and didn’t teach their kids. On reflection, though, our customary practices were present.”
He moved to the city to attend the University of Auckland, living with one of his aunties while studying for a Bachelor of Science, majoring in sport and exercise science. Despite having strong connections to his iwi and hapū today, it was only at that point, through his aunt, that he first connected with Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei.
This University has made a large contribution to society, and we can make an even bigger one for our future generations.
After completing his degree, Michael enrolled in a personal development course for Māori men in Māngere. It sparked a journey of deepening his connection to his Māori language and culture that began with learning his pepeha.
“Saying it out loud was the first time I actually felt a connection,” he says.
At a later meeting, when Michael was looking for work, he used his pepeha to introduce himself. Coincidentally, the person he was introducing himself to had the same pepeha and, recognising they were related, encouraged him to join his kapa haka group.
Michael joined a senior kapa haka group in the late 1990s called Te Puru o Tāmaki. Initially he struggled, singing songs without fully understanding the words. But through kapa haka he came to learn sentence structures, meaning and context.
“This is how I learned to speak te reo; it wasn’t in a classroom,” he says.
“Kapa haka was not only a vehicle for revitalisation but the gateway to myself; my Māori ancestry, my identity, was released through kapa haka.”
Today, Michael is a kaihaka, or professional kapa haka performer, with Hātea Kapa Haka. The Northland-based roopū competes in Te Matatini and is well known for its creativity, particularly its renowned waiata tira (performed at the start of a kapa haka performance) rendition of the Queen classic Bohemian Rhapsody.
Whare tū taua: a Māori martial art school
Kapa haka also introduced Michael to the movements of the taiaha.
Traditionally used for fighting and wero (challenges on the marae), the taiaha is often associated today with the Māori martial art school of whare tū taua. It’s a practice, says Michael, that brings him a sense of mauri tau (contentment).
“Whare tū taua is about coordinated movement of the body, hands and weapons,” he explains. “It’s similar to parts of karate in terms of set movements, and it also embeds philosophy, history, healing, rehabilitation and training. A warrior considers how they interact with everything around them – people, environment and context.”
Michael recalls his introduction to the practice: “I was told that my uncle who lived down the road was an expert at this, so I knocked on his door and introduced myself.
“He asked me to come over every Sunday, which I did. I spent time with his whānau and it became a routine to a point when I forgot what I was there for in the first place. Then months down the track [he] goes: ‘shall we go to the marae now’, and that’s when it started.”
Michael became deeply committed to the practice, and now, nearly 30 years on, he serves as the 2IC at Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei for whare tū taua.
“It’s been fundamental to my identity, learning these things as a sportsperson too; it’s a great physical activity and has kept me fit over the years.”
Michael has performed elements of whare tū taua at significant ceremonies, including the kawe mate (mourning ceremony) for Jonah Lomu’s funeral at Eden Park, and has delivered a wero to figures such as former US president Barack Obama and the former Māori Kuini Te Arikinui Te Ātairangi Kaahu.
You may also spot Michael at Eden Park with his wife, UniServices Kaiārahi Tui Kaumoana-Steedman, opening games for the Blues.
Mentorship and growth
Waipapa Taumata Rau has also been central to his personal development, as well as his professional growth.
As a student, he met lifelong friends and mentors, including Emeritus Professor Michael Walker ONZM. The Biological Sciences academic first introduced the younger Michael to the Tuākana programme and supported him to become the University’s first Kaiārahi, or Māori adviser, in the Faculty of Science in 2010.
That experience emphasised to him the importance of integrating science and tikanga: “Facts matter; evidence matters,” he says.
“In our culture, Māori practices are similar across the country and have stayed largely constant for a long period. Tikanga is evidence of practice. For me, it is its own form of scientific method. To critique it, you must have experience and understanding.”
It’s a concept that resonates with a whakataukī that a mentor taught him: “Ehara i te mea he tika, he hē; engari he rerekē,” says Michael. “It’s not right or wrong, it’s just different.”
The Kaiārahi role allowed him to contribute to initiatives designed to uplift Māori students, helping realise their potential in ways previous generations did not experience.
Another of his mentors at the University was a former vice-chancellor, the late Stuart McCutcheon, who Michael describes as a clear thinker, personable and genuinely interested in supporting Māori leadership.
At one point, when the role of pro vice-chancellor Māori at the University was being advertised, Michael says he applied, despite feeling “woefully inexperienced”.
“I threw my hat in the ring, fully aware I wasn’t the obvious candidate. I wasn’t successful, of course, but that led to conversations with Stuart McCutcheon, who was vice-chancellor at the time. That chat changed everything.
“We had a good relationship. He created a space for me to grow professionally, and into the role that eventually became the Kaiarataki, the Deputy Pro Vice-Chancellor Māori.”
Michael became the first Kaiarataki, initially under the leadership of Dame Cindy Kiro (pro vice-chancellor Māori 2018–2021) and now as deputy for Professor Te Kawehau Hoskins.
But the relationships that have truly allowed Michael to thrive, he says, have been with his kaumātua, who have been prominent and wise guides throughout his life.
“I’ve heard them say often: ‘I runga i te rangimārie, which I understand as, ‘with peace, solemnity’.”
Although previous generations lived through traumatic experiences, such as being alienated from their language, he says this whakaaro illustrates his forebears’ resilience, quiet strength and focus on the future generations.
And they’re qualities, he says, that his generation, and those to come, must hold onto as they forge a new path.
Te Rina Ruka-Triponel
This article first appeared in the December 2025 issue of UniNews.