Congratulations to Mia Tavake, who placed 2nd in the Pasifika Voices Junior Section Speech Competition.

Mia impressed the judges with her powerful and thoughtful speech, showcasing her pride in her culture and strong communication skills. We are proud to celebrate Mia’s success and the way she represented both herself and our school community.

We are delighted to share her speech with you below — a wonderful example of the strength and heart of our Pasifika students.

Well done, Mia!

Poem - Foreign roots

“ ko’eni e tala moe ongoongo ae 

angahala ke mou fanongo “

On a map from an island no bigger than the palm of my hand,  

A child of moana where the language of my people,

Was spoken, lived and breathed

Stronger than any facet of me,  

But I was Brought up on foreign soil,

I didn’t quite understand,  

The struggle of walking in two worlds,

Not a choice but a demand

See, I grew up with two shadows—  

One was the one I cast,  

The other was my parents,

Their dreams big and vast,  

You know, the one where my skin felt like home,  

And my accent curled around my tongue like it belonged.  

But no,  

Instead I lived in a house with walls that whispered,  

And a door that never quite opened wide enough for me to fit in,  

I was the outsider,  

The one with a name they couldn't fully pronounce,

Vaimelie,

Not mia, not amelia, but Vaimelie,

A name given to me from the bible,

sweet fresh water,

In the desert where the Israelites, famished and lost,

Came upon sweet fresh drinking water,

a name with a beautiful meaning, 

Is now reduced and changed to Amelia

For in this foreign soil, they can only understand their words, their phrases and their names,

Vaimelie,

The one with thick ruly hair,  

Different skin, 

Different kin, 

And when I spoke,  

They'd stare,  

I was never fully prepared,

To accept that they would never truly understand

That my heart beat to a rhythm that didn’t belong here.  

But they didn’t know—  

I was trying to build a bridge out of broken words,  

Trying to fit in pieces of a puzzle that weren’t made for me.  

I had to learn how to dance to their music,  

While my soul hummed to a beat they didn’t hear.  

My parents told me to keep my head down,

Study hard,

You’ll make it!  

Keep my dreams quiet,  

Because here, they’ll only break it.

The silence is where they wanted me to stay,

But this feeling is just something I felt was being displayed, 

my skin burned for something more—

Because sitting here telling them why I felt out of place became a chore,  

How every word I spoke became a revolt,  

How every step became cut-throat

they said “Blend in, don’t make mistakes,”  

but that vision my parents made for me live up to with no mistakes was what I was trying to escape,  

I was born, a vision of my ancestors,

Where being born Tongan was enough,

Where my language didn’t define me,

Nor my village confine me,

Brought up in a household where faith was woven tight,

Each prayer a thread, and the lord - as my light,

I was taught every Sunday about God's loving embrace,

it gave me a sense of purpose, as well as a calm and steady grace,

Yet I felt as though not enough,

The preachers word aimed to me can be quite tough,

The weight of sin, a constant call,

The pressure to be perfect, above all,

Questions rose, but i felt unheard,

For doubt in my religion felt like a dangerous word,

Yet still within these sacred walls,

I found both peace in faiths heavy calls,

For growing up with the church so near,

yet my heart still felt distant and full of fear,

Growing up in my Tongan household,

I was caught between two worlds, 

Indifferent, yet the same

One forcing me to its soil,  

The other so close yet so far away,   

But I learned to grow anyway,  

Like a tree with roots deep in foreign land,  

I spread my leaves toward the sun,  

Even if the soil didn't always nourish me.

“ oku kei tulutaani e toto ae

Vai fakama’a hota loto “

Malo Aupito!