Meremere Puutaiao Society
Meremere Puutaiao Society
“Our big picture is not to have it today, but to still have it in a thousand years”
On a bright Friday morning at Te Paina Primary School in Meremere, a group of students crouches over vegetable beds discussing what to plant next. Inside, another group weaves kete-shaped brooches that will be gifted during the school’s upcoming 150-year celebrations. And nearby, more students experiment with rhythms and harmonies while creating music for a special karakia.
Back outside, under a tree in the centre of the school grounds, children share a meditative moment while reflecting on their natural surroundings, then make their way to a stream on the school boundary where the process is repeated. The morning ends with everyone coming back together to share what they have learned, made, planted, or discovered.
This is an example of the work being done by the Meremere Puutaiao Society, a community-led kaupapa that is reshaping how rangatahi connect with the environment, with culture, and with each other. At the heart of it all is Tupara Moanaroa, whose vision stretches far beyond gardens and school projects. For him, the work is about legacy.
“Our big picture is not to have it today, but to still have it in a thousand years,” he says.
That philosophy runs through every aspect of the society’s work. Whether restoring waterways, teaching children how to grow kai, creating employment pathways for young adults, or preparing projects that will remain long after the current generation has moved on, the Meremere Puutaiao Society is focused on building intergenerational strength.
“We’ve been coming here for two years,” Tupara explains about the school project. “And it’s in the taiao space, the natural gardens like their garden beds and how they nurture it, as well as the worm gardens, as well as where their waste goes to.”
For many of the children involved, these lessons are introducing entirely new ways of thinking about the environment around them. “They just throw it in the rubbish,” Moanaroa says. “We’ve got them into a good phase of it, that they actually do care for their environment.”
The transformation can be seen in small but meaningful moments. Worm farms are maintained by dedicated groups of children. Young gardeners proudly tend vegetables they planted themselves. During one recent session, a young boy picked a flower from the school garden and quietly gifted it to one of his teachers. It was a simple act, unseen by most around him, but one that reflected the care and connection being nurtured through the programme.
For Tupara, moments such as these matter because they represent something larger and that is children beginning to understand that they belong to the environment, and are not separate from it. Last year, rangatahi helped plant a harakeke-lined pathway leading down toward a nearby stream. Each plant was given a name, creating personal connections between the children and the whenua.
“The senior kids have named each harakeke,” Tupara says. “And then they’ve gone and passed their name on to the juniors as well. So it’s always being passed down.”
That passing down of knowledge, responsibility, and identity is central to the kaupapa.
“The idea is not for me to just walk away,” he says. “The idea is the next generation carries it on.”
In partnership with the school, the Society plans to create a special taonga space connected to Matariki and seasonal learning as part of Te Paina Primary School’s 150-year celebrations later this year. “So the journey is a full journey, not just a little piece,” Tupara explains. “Since we’re working with the five-year-olds all the way up to twelve, thirteen-year-olds, the knowledge will keep on passing down.”
The Meremere Puutaiao Society emerged from a wider community aspiration to revitalise Meremere in ways that are sustainable, culturally grounded, and community owned. Rather than imposing solutions from outside, the Society’s approach is rooted in local voices, with whānau, tamariki, rangatahi, mana whenua, schools, and volunteers all shaping the direction together.
This approach recognises what already exists within the community and builds upon it. Local knowledge and community relationships are treated as assets rather than problems to solve.
And that collaborative model has allowed the Society to grow rapidly. “We started off with five of us,” Moanaroa says. “Now we’ve got something like sixty-five.”
Alongside the community and cultural work sits a commercial arm designed to secure funding and create long-term sustainability. It is a balance Moanaroa understands well after decades working professionally overseas and in business.
“I lived thirty-eight years in Australia,” he says. “Being a sportsman and professional with that as well. So I know how to get to the elite and stay at the elite.”
That experience shaped his desire to return home and invest in the next generation.
“I’ve come home to actually give something, my little thing,” he says. “It’s an aspiration of mine to actually get our rangatahi…to be leaders as well as inspiration for the next generations to come.”
Part of that leadership development involves creating genuine employment pathways for young adults in the community. Daniel and Naima are two of the young people now working through the programme. Both joined recently and are already gaining practical skills through fencing, environmental restoration, and farm-based work.
After feeling dissatisfied in a previous job, Daniel replied to a Facebook post advertising work opportunities through the Society. Now Daniel spends his days replacing fences, putting in posts, and learning the fundamentals of farming infrastructure. But for him, the work is about much more than fencing.
“My future is to become a farm manager, just to run my own farm,” he says. Under Moanaroa’s guidance, he is learning trade skills first before progressing further.
For Daniel, the appeal of farming comes from both the lifestyle and the deeper connection to the environment. “I want to live on a farm, just work around the environment,” he says.
Naima joined the programme through Daniel and sees the wider purpose behind the work.
“For rangatahi, they can get experience,” she says. “So if they want to do those types of jobs when they get older, they know what to do.”
For both Daniel and Naima, one of the most important aspects of the Society is exposing children to opportunities they themselves did not have growing up.
When asked if these kinds of opportunities existed when they were at primary school, the response is in unison. “Not really.”
And that absence has strengthened their desire to become role models for younger generations and lead by example.
“I would say probably be independent,” Naima says. “Or rather show what the future can hold for them, you know, just give them heaps of opportunities.”
Daniel agrees. “So they can be their own leader and become whatever they want to be,” he says.
Those ideas connect closely with the Society’s wider philosophy around strengthening local resilience. Environmental restoration is linked to food security while cultural storytelling strengthens identity. Employment initiatives create opportunities where few previously existed.
Back at Te Paina Primary, the lessons being shared are practical, but they are also deeply connected to wellbeing, resilience, and identity. Children are learning how to plant kai, reduce waste, and care for the environment around them. Importantly, the work here and at other schools supports overstretched teachers.
The Society deliberately chose Fridays so staff could decompress before the weekend while students engaged in hands-on learning activities outside traditional classroom structures. “In the future, we want to fund some extra teachers to come in and take that load,” Moanaroa explains.
That practical support reflects the Society’s broader approach of responding to community needs as they emerge and adapting programmes accordingly. The mahi has already attracted growing support and partnerships with schools, local organisations, Sport Waikato, Waikato District Council, Te Araroa Trust, and mana whenua. Grants and funding are helping expand opportunities further, including new educational experiences that take children beyond the “four walls” many are used to.
“We’re going to give them the best that we can give them,” Moanaroa says.
That includes taking students on field trips to experience different environments and ecosystems. The belief is that this will help them understand the wider world beyond Meremere while strengthening pride in their own place.
Throughout the programme, there is an emphasis on encouragement rather than pressure. On this particular Friday, when a small group of children begin singing a waiata quietly before becoming self-conscious, slowly the larger group joins in around them until the entire gathering is singing together. It’s a small but powerful reflection of what the Meremere Puutaiao Society is building through belonging and collective support.
Sadie, one of the programme leaders helping students create woven brooches for the school anniversary celebrations, perhaps summarises it best.
“That’s the beautiful thing about children,” she says. “It doesn’t take a lot to get them engaged.”
What the Meremere Puutaiao Society understands is that engagement alone is not enough. Young people also need pathways, role models, opportunities, and a sense that they matter within the future of their community. While still relatively early in its journey, the impact is already visible. Most importantly, it is creating systems designed to outlast the people who began them.
For Tupara Moanaroa, that has always been the point.
“It keeps on passing down,” he says. “That’s the goal, of everything getting passed down.”