Supporting tamariki takiwātanga Māori (autistic Māori children): Exploring the experience of early childhood educators

Abstract

The experience of the many autistic children who attend inclusive early childhood education settings is largely shaped by the knowledge and attitudes of the educators who support them. Autistic children from under-represented ethnic groups, such as autistic Māori, are likely to face additional challenges and educators need to consider strategies to support their cultural development. We conducted in-depth, semi-structured interviews with 12 educators with recent experience supporting tamariki takiwātanga Māori (autistic Māori children) in inclusive early childhood settings. Data were analysed using reflexive thematic analysis resulting in three themes and seven subthemes. Overall, participants’ understandings of autism aligned with the neurodiversity perspective, and there were similarities between neurodiversity and Māori perspectives. Participants wanted more training and resources drawn from a Māori worldview and available in te reo Māori (the Māori language). These findings have important implications for practice and future research.

Lay Abstract

The knowledge and attitudes of educators can have a strong influence on the experiences of autistic children who attend inclusive early childhood settings. Autistic children from under-represented ethnic groups, for example, tamariki takiwātanga Māori (autistic Māori children), are likely to face extra challenges and educators need to consider ways to support their cultural development. For this study, we interviewed 12 educators with recent experience supporting tamariki takiwātanga Māori in inclusive early childhood settings. We constructed three themes and seven subthemes from the interview data. We found that educators’ understandings of autism were mostly in line with the neurodiversity perspective, which views autism as a difference, not a disorder. We also found similarities between the neurodiversity perspective and Māori perspectives of autism and a need for more training and resources based upon a Māori world view and available in te reo Māori (the Māori language).

Māori, the indigenous peoples of Aotearoa, New Zealand (from herein Aotearoa), represent approximately 16.5% of Aotearoa’s total population (Statistics New Zealand, 2020). The Māori population is heterogeneous, made up of diverse iwi (tribes), hāpū (subtribes) and whānau (family groups). ‘Takiwātanga’, a Māori term for autism means ‘in his or her own time/space’ and conveys a non-judgmental acceptance of autism as a difference (Te Pou o te Whakaaro Nui, 2019). This aligns with the neurodiversity perspective, where autism is viewed as a natural part of human biological variation, rather than a disorder or deficit (Bagatell, 2010; Kapp et al., 2013; Pellicano & den Houting, 2022).

Indigenous autistic children may face more barriers to participation and success in education than other autistic children (Shaeffer, 2019). This is because individuals with multiple marginalised identities (e.g. indigenous and autistic) are likely to experience discrimination related to each of their marginalised identities (Botha & Gillespie-Lynch, 2022). For example, tamariki takiwātanga Māori (autistic Māori children, herein tamariki takiwātanga) are likely to encounter additional barriers to inclusion (Bevan-Brown, 2006) and may face unique challenges due to the intersectionality of their takiwātanga and Māori identities (Simpson, 2021). Māori may be less likely to receive an autism diagnosis than New Zealand Europeans, likely due to health inequalities and institutional racism, rather than true differences in prevalence (Bowden et al., 2020). Indeed, Māori continue to experience significant disparities in many areas, including education, due to the negative effects of colonisation, historical trauma and systemic racism (Bishop et al., 2009; Salahshour, 2021). Despite these challenges, Māori are a strong, determined people who continue to work towards the reclamation and legitimisation of Māori language and knowledge (Ormond, 2023).

In Aotearoa, early childhood (EC) education is not compulsory; however, almost all children attend some form before starting school (Education Counts, 2023). EC services may be teacher-led, parent-led or whānau-led and may be owned and run by non-profit community groups or private or corporate entities. All EC services are legally required to follow the national EC education curriculum, Te Whāriki (Ministry of Education [MoE], 1996) which has a strong focus on inclusive and bicultural education; however, services vary in their ability to integrate Māori content and over 90% of EC teachers are non-Māori (Education Counts, 2023). Kōhanga reo (whānau-led, Māori-medium EC services) are attended by approximately 17% of Māori preschool-aged children (Education Counts, 2023).

Many autistic children in Aotearoa attend EC education (Kasilingam et al., 2021; Sudfelt, 2022) where they receive education alongside their non-autistic peers. The national education system places a strong emphasis on inclusion (MoE, 2019, 2023), but often this does not translate into true inclusive practice (Haug, 2017) which involves creating an environment to embrace diversity and promote equality (MacArthur & Rutherford, 2016; Pellicano et al., 2018). There is also a strong emphasis on providing culturally responsive education for all Māori learners, including those with diverse learning needs (MoE, 2023). However, there appears to be a shortage of effective and culturally responsive programmes and resources for Māori children with diverse learning needs (Bevan-Brown, 2006), including tamariki takiwātanga (Tupou et al., 2021).

Educators play a key role in shaping inclusive education (Munchan & Agbenyega, 2020) and children’s experience of inclusion is strongly influenced by educators’ knowledge and attitudes (Goodall, 2014; Macartney & Morton, 2013). For example, educators who ascribe to a medical understanding of autism tend to focus their teaching on ‘remediating’ the autistic child’s ‘deficits’ (Douglas et al., 2021). Previous quantitative research has typically involved evaluation of EC educators’ knowledge of the medical definition and characteristics of autism, and there is a paucity of qualitative research on educators’ knowledge and attitudes (Gómez-Marí et al., 2021).

Indeed, there is very little qualitative research exploring the experiences of EC educators supporting autistic children in inclusive settings (Manalili, 2021). In one previous study, researchers surveyed 56 staff from 38 different Irish preschools who were recruited via enrolment in a voluntary autism training course (McConkey & Bhlirgri, 2003). Participants shared a range of challenges that they encountered when supporting autistic children and shared strategies they had successfully used with autistic children. In another study, 15 Australian preservice EC teachers participated in a survey, with 4 teachers participating in subsequent interviews (Barned et al., 2011). Participants were asked about their knowledge and attitudes towards autistic children and inclusion. The authors found that, overall, participants had limited knowledge regarding autism and the needs of autistic children but were generally supportive of including autistic children in their classrooms.

There is also a scarcity of research focussed on autistic people with additional marginalised identities (Botha & Gillespie-Lynch, 2022) including takiwātanga Māori (autistic Māori, Tupou et al., 2021). In one previous study (Bevan-Brown, 2004), Māori parents and whānau of 19 autistic children and young adults were interviewed about their perspectives of autism and experiences with services. Participants’ understandings of autism were largely informed by the Western medical model and while their experiences with services varied, many reported difficulty in accessing culturally safe and responsive support. Another study (Lindblom, 2017), set in Canada, explored music interventions for autistic children through a First Nations lens. Findings highlighted the importance of culturally responsive supports for autistic Indigenous children and their families.

The aim of this qualitative study is to explore the experience of educators supporting tamariki takiwātanga, with a specific focus on the beliefs, attitudes and understandings that underpin their teaching practice.

Methods

Ethical considerations

Ethics approval was granted by Victoria University of Wellington Human Ethics Committee (approval no. 30130). Participants provided informed consent prior to the start of the interview and were free to stop the interview or withdraw from the study at any time.

Design

A qualitative approach was used as it is well-suited to research that seeks to understand participants’ subjective experience with external phenomena (Percy et al., 2015). A strengths-based approach to data analysis was used. Both these approaches align with the guiding principles of Kaupapa Māori research (Cram, 2013), a research approach which privileges Māori world views, cultural values and processes and presents findings using a strengths-based framework (Haitana et al., 2020; Walker et al., 2006).

Participants

Purposive sampling was used to recruit professionals with recent experience working with tamariki takiwātanga in an EC setting. Recruitment emails were sent to the Ministry of Education and to all EC care and education services across Aotearoa. An advertisement was also posted on local education and autism websites and Facebook pages. To be eligible to participate, professionals needed to have had recent (within the previous 2 years) experience working in an EC setting with a Māori child who either: (1) had a formal diagnosis of autism or (2) was showing characteristics of autism, but did not yet have a formal diagnosis. Participation was open to all professionals who met these inclusion criteria including teachers/kaiako, education support workers/kaimahi, specialist staff and home-based educators. Recruitment continued until we had sufficient data to construct thick and rick themes (Braun & Clarke, 2022a) and the ‘information power’ to address our research aims (Malterud et al., 2016). Twelve educators were recruited, and their demographics are summarised in Table 1.

Table 1.

Participant demographics.

Variable		n	%
Age group (years)	Under 25	1	8.3
	25–34	0	0
	35–44	7	58.3
	45–55	2	16.7
	Over 55	1	8.3
Ethnicity (may identify with more than 1)	Pākeha	7	58.3
	Māori	4	33.3
	Fijian	1	8.3
	Tongan	1	8.3
Gender	Female	11	91.7
	Male	0	0
	Prefer to self describe	1	8.3
Number of years working in early childhood education	Less than 5 years	3	25
	5–10 years	2	16.7
	11–20 years	6	50
	More than 20 years	1	8.3
Current role	Head teacher	3	25
	Kaiako/teacher	5	41.7
	Practice advisor	1	8.3
	Other	3	25
Experience working with autistic children	Low	2	16.7
	Moderate	8	66.7
	High	2	16.7
Service type (may be more than 1)	Kindergarten	8	66.7
	Kōhanga/puna reo	3	25
	Home-based	2	16.7
	ECE centre	1	8.3
	Learning support	1	8.3
Service location	Rural	2	16.7
	City	5	41.7
	Suburban	5	41.7

Pākeha: New Zealander of European descent; kōhanga/puna reo: Māori language preschool.

Measures

Data were collected via semi-structured interviews, which were conducted over Zoom using an interview guide developed specifically for this study by J.T. The guide covered the following topics: (1) experience with autism, (2) training/professional development, (3) successes, (4) challenges and (5) supporting cultural development. The interview guide was piloted with two EC educators, prior to study commencement. A copy of the interview guide is included as Supplementary Document 1.

Procedure

Participants were emailed a copy of the interview topics prior to their interview and asked to suggest additions and/or changes to the topics. The intention was to give participants time to reflect on the interview topics, to provide participants with some influence over the focus of the interview and to ensure that we had not overlooked any salient topics. Participants did not suggest any additions or changes. The interviews were conducted in English by J.T. and C.A. and lasted between 50 min and 1 h and 40 min. The interviews were semi-structured, meaning that the interview guide was loosely followed, but the interviewers remained open to new ideas that emerged during the interview.

Data analysis

Interviews were audio-recorded and then transcribed verbatim by J.T. Prior to analysis, participants were given a summary of their transcripts and asked to check that their contributions had been accurately captured. Several participants requested minor additions/alterations. Three participants did not provide any feedback. Data were analysed using the reflexive thematic analysis process described by Braun and Clarke (2022b). This method was selected because of its accessibility, flexibility and ability to facilitate the identification of patterns and trends in the data (Braun & Clarke, 2012). It involved the following steps: (1) familiarisation with data, (2) coding, (3) generation of initial themes, (4) review of themes, (5) theme definition and (6) writing of results. Codes were derived inductively from the data and constructed and modified throughout the coding process. An inductive approach to coding was used to ensure that our analysis was ‘grounded in the data’ as this approach is well-suited to the exploratory nature of the research (Braun & Clarke, 2022b). Analysis was approached with an essentialist epistemology, where participants’ words were viewed as a true reflection of their experiences and perspectives (Braun & Clarke, 2022b). We also took an experiential approach which aligns with essentialist epistemology and is based upon the assumption that individuals can accurately communicate meaning through language (Braun & Clarke, 2022b). In line with this, we also used semantic or surface-level codes to stay close to participants’ actual words and provide a descriptive account of participants’ experiences (Clarke et al., 2019). Memoing was used throughout the analysis process to keep track of analytical thinking and decision-making and to strengthen trustworthiness.

Reflexivity

According to Braun and Clarke (2023), reflexive thematic analysis cannot be conducted objectively, instead researcher subjectivity and prior experience is viewed as a resource that researchers should ‘strive to own’. The prior experience and subjectivity of the current authors are likely to have influenced the research in numerous ways. For example, during interviews, we made connections between participants’ stories and our own personal experiences. This allowed us to engage with what participants were sharing in a deep and empathetic way. Similarly, during data analysis, the first author’s experience as a Māori educator with autistic whānau members provided insight into subtle nuances of the data and supported the strengths-based approach to data analysis.

Community involvement

Two of the authors (J.T. and C.A.) are Māori and three authors (J.T., C.W.-W. and H.W.) have autistic family members. Three authors (J.T., C.W.-W. and H.W.) are also involved in the delivery of community-based services for autistic children and/or their families.

Results

Three themes and seven subthemes were constructed from the interview data. These are described below.

‘In their own time and space’: educators’ beliefs, attitudes and understandings of autism

This theme is about the beliefs, attitudes, understandings and experiences underpinning participants’ professional practice. There are two subthemes: (1) understanding autism as a difference, not a deficit and (2) drawing on formal and informal learning opportunities to strengthen knowledge.

Understanding autism as a difference, not a deficit

Throughout the interviews, participants used neurodiversity-affirming language to discuss autism. Overall, participants viewed autism as a ‘different way of being’ and a ‘special difference’, rather than a deficit or disorder. Participants emphasised that ‘it’s OK to be different’ and that ‘difference should be celebrated’. They felt it was important to allow children to ‘be themselves’, accepting and valuing them as they are and allowing them to have autonomy over themselves and their learning. Some participants highlighted how their use of language around autism had changed over time:

We’ve just completed two lots of professional learning and development (PLD) on autism talking about putting autism first, like saying, ‘you’re an autistic person’ rather than ‘a person with autism’. Whereas when I was trained it was about ‘no, you never say that they are autistic or say they’re an autistic person’. (P01)

There was also acknowledgement of autism involving neurological difference; some participants described the autistic brain as being ‘wired differently’ and one participant discussed Polyvagal theory (a theory that focuses on links between the function of the autonomic nervous system and social behaviour; Porges, 2009) and differences in the functioning of autistic nervous systems. Participants were aware that some characteristics are commonly shared by autistic people including differences in social communication, nervous system function, emotional regulation and sensory perception and processing. However, participants also emphasised that ‘autism is a spectrum’, ‘autistic children are all individuals’ and ‘one size doesn’t fit all’.

Many participants were not familiar with the Māori word for autism, takiwātanga. However, those who were discussed its value in supporting their understanding of tamariki takiwātanga:

The word takiwātanga is huge, in their own time and space, because taking a step back and you know, just accepting a person as valid as they are, and their own neurodivergent way of processing and learning, can have such a positive impact. (P06)

Overall, participants emphasised the positive focus of a te ao Māori (Māori world view) perspective on autism. One participant noted that Māori ‘don’t see it as a negative thing that they’re on the spectrum’ and ‘in a te ao Māori view, we don’t see their issues as issues . . . we see them as taonga (treasures, things of value)’ (P05).

Links to atua (ancestors with continuing influence/deity/spiritual guardians) were also discussed by several participants:

If they are fixated on something, like autistic children are, that’s their special uniqueness that they hold . . . So, if they’re into the trees and stuff, they’re under Tane Mahuta (atua of the forests and birds), if they’re into the moana (ocean), they’re under Tangaroa (atua of the sea and fish). So, the child’s dispositions we link back to Māori atua. (P05)

Several of the Māori participants also remarked on the ‘spiritual side’ of autism and acknowledged that tamariki takiwātanga may be able to access the spiritual realm and notice things in a way that non-autistic children cannot.

Most participants were neurodivergent and/or had experience with parenting neurodivergent children, and this was an important source of knowledge and understanding:

Through my own personal experience my eyes have been opened a lot more, now I kind of look past that tiny little image I had initially when I didn’t know much about autism. (P02)

Some participants drew on strategies and information that they had learned with their own children to support the tamariki takiwātanga they were working with. They also shared that many of their colleagues, who did not have personal experience with neurodivergence, often ‘struggled’ or ‘felt scared’ when supporting tamariki takiwātanga.

One neurodivergent participant explained that when neurotypical people try to understand what is going on for an autistic person, it is largely ‘guesswork’. They suggested that for neurotypical people, ‘it’s really important to have that sounding board’ (P07) from someone with lived experience. Another participant had read a book about the autistic experience, written by an autistic author, and found it to be ‘really helpful’ (P10) in understanding the tamariki takiwātanga that she was supporting.

Drawing on formal and informal learning opportunities to strengthen knowledge

All participants had accessed formal professional learning and development (PLD) to learn more about autism. Most had sought this out themselves because of their ‘passion for autism’ or to help them to better understand and support the tamariki takiwātanga that they were working with. In some cases, participants had to fund the cost themselves and several participants from rural areas had to travel for over an hour to attend PLD. Participants agreed that undergraduate teaching qualifications do not adequately prepare educators for supporting tamariki takiwātanga, leaving them reliant upon in-service PLD. Although the current participants had all sought out PLD, some described colleagues who showed no interest in attending autism PLD:

These teachers do not want to go and educate themselves about these children. They’re just, ‘No, no, I can’t teach this child. I don’t know how to cope with this child’. (P08)

Several specific PLD programmes were mentioned by participants. Although participants’ experience varied, overall, they took something useful from each programme they attended. Elements that were valued included facilitators with lived experience, basic information on understanding autism and recognising its characteristics, practical strategies, information on setting up the sensory environment and ideas for supporting transition to school.

Aside from a takiwātanga wānanga (traditional Māori educational seminar) that two participants had attended, PLD courses did not contain any Māori-specific content:

It wasn’t culturally relevant at all. Because it was my first one, I stood back. But now, if I was to attend another one, I would pose those questions, ‘what about our Māori tamariki (children)? How many in this room are teaching Māori tamariki and do you understand their mana (inherent worth, dignity, power), their wairua (spiritual essence)? Do you connect with that, or are you just physically connecting?’. (P10)

Some participants noted that while Western ideas and resources can be useful, they need to be presented from a Māori perspective and available in te reo Māori (the Māori language). Māori educators often disengage with PLD courses when they do not align with a te ao Māori perspective on autism, ‘we go to professional development and all we hear is negative things about these children. So, we already know ‘oh, we don’t want to go to that course’, but we need help’ (P05). Several Māori participants also suggested that when Māori educators receive PLD based upon Western perspectives, they can start to ‘double question’ themselves and ‘lose confidence’ in what they already know from a Māori perspective.

All participants wanted access to autism PLD with a te ao Māori or cultural focus and many of the non-Māori teachers acknowledged their lack of understanding and a need for further support in this area. For example, one educator described how she found it challenging to support the cultural development of the non-speaking child that she worked with because she could not rely on conversation as she would with other children:

She’s completely nonverbal, they don’t speak te reo (Māori) at home, so how do I support her culturally? I’m at a loss for that . . . I mean, I don’t even know what cultural responsiveness with autism looks like. (P12)

There were several informal ways in which participants learned more about autism and supporting tamariki takiwātanga. Colleagues were an important informal source of knowledge and most participants described learning from talking with and observing colleagues. Most participants reported they would ‘ask a colleague’ if they encountered situations where they needed information or advice on supporting tamariki takiwātanga. Several participants who had worked at specialised early intervention centres had also received ‘on-the-job’ training from specialist colleagues which they described as ‘invaluable’.

The internet was another source of information for participants who found it could be ‘useful when you need information on something really specific you’re struggling with’ (P03) but could be like ‘opening a can of worms’ when searching for more general information. Other valuable informal sources of information included conversations with autistic adults, books and Facebook groups for autistic people and/or family members.

Sometimes new knowledge could reassure participants that they ‘had been doing the right thing’. It could also help participants to improve their practice or better understand a particular strategy or approach. One participant shared that she ‘felt a bit sad and guilty’ when she learned new skills and felt she could have used them to better support autistic children she had worked with previously.

‘We’re more focussed on their wellbeing’: educator priorities and goals for Tamariki Takiwātanga

This theme covers participants’ priorities for tamariki takiwātanga and the process of setting child goals. There are two subthemes: (1) prioritising the wellbeing of tamariki takiwātanga and (2) setting child goals is a complex process.

Prioritising the wellbeing of Tamariki Takiwātanga

Participants’ key focus when working with tamariki takiwātanga was supporting their wellbeing:

Within the Māori context, we’re not so focused on the education side of things, we’re more focussed on their well-being. That’s a huge difference. We know that they’re going to be okay, and they will learn, but once they feel like they’re safe, they’re in a safe environment, they know that they’re accepted, they know that they’re okay. (P08)

Physical safety was considered an important part of wellbeing and some participants discussed working with tamariki takiwātanga who ‘didn’t know how to keep themselves safe’ (e.g. climbing fences and escaping). One participant also explained how ‘behaviourism-based approaches’ and ‘neurotypical expectations’ can compromise the physical safety of tamariki takiwātanga ‘overburdening their already stressed nervous systems’. They emphasised the importance of creating a safe environment where tamariki takiwātanga are given the time and space to develop in their own unique way, because ‘you can’t develop when you’re not safe’ (P06).

Relationships were also identified as a key element of child wellbeing and supporting peer relationships was important for many participants. The importance of creating an inclusive environment and helping neurotypical children understand how to communicate with tamariki takiwātanga was emphasised by most participants. Some participants also spent time directly teaching social skills, such as turn taking and social commenting, to tamariki takiwātanga. One participating ESW described her role as being ‘like a dance’ between providing one-on-one support for tamariki takiwātanga and ‘stepping back to allow interactions with peers’ (P09).

There was also recognition of the link between cultural identity and wellbeing for tamariki takiwātanga. Participants acknowledged the importance of supporting cultural development and agreed with the sentiment that, ‘whether they are autistic or not, Māori children need to have that empowerment of who they are and where they come from’ (P07).

Setting child goals is a complex process

For most participants, specific child goals were set during individual education plan meetings between teaching staff, the child’s whānau (family group) and learning support staff. Goals were typically based upon ‘teacher and whānau priorities’, although several participants noted that some goals did not necessarily reflect what was important to whānau:

Sometimes it’s not even on the family’s list of goals, you know, the education type goals like communicating with these picture books, and you know, using pictures . . . That gets lost a bit with her whānau, they just want to keep her safe . . . and they want her to sleep . . . they’re their main goals. (P12)

It was suggested that these goals were often based upon rules and regulations (e.g. sitting down to eat) or Western constructs (e.g. looking at picture books). Participants acknowledged that, to a certain extent, the system is set up to focus on Western perspectives and priorities and ‘there is often discord’ (P12) between the system and the priorities and values of the whānau. Also, some activities ‘can’t be avoided’ (e.g. washing hands and putting sunscreen on) so children must be supported in learning to do them.

Most participants acknowledged that, ‘setting realistic but challenging goals is important’, but ‘it’s quite a balance’ (P09). Some participants found PLD valuable in helping them to understand how to set appropriate goals. However, one participant found the PLD she attended set unrealistic expectations regarding progress. She found this unhelpful, commenting ‘Every session we went back, and they would say, “so how was your goal that you worked on?” And I was just like, “no, no”, there was no progress’ (P10). There was also an acknowledgement that tamariki takiwātanga ‘all learn at different paces’ (P06) so goals should reflect this.

Finding a balance between ‘taking the child’s lead’ and ‘making progress’ on goals could also be challenging:

Those times were hard to get him out (of stimming) without being forceful and expecting too much of him, but also thinking, ‘well, uh, we need to be working on some things’. (P09)

Some participants suggested that although it is important for tamariki takiwātanga to be comfortable and happy, learning and development often happen when a child steps ‘out of their comfort zone’. Several participants emphasised the importance of providing tamariki takiwātanga with appropriately challenging goals and not ‘underestimating their potential’ (P01).

Goal setting was easier when everyone who worked with the child was ‘on the same page’. One participant, an ESW, shared how she found some of the goals set by specialist staff ‘challenging’ and did not understand why they were important to focus on. For example, requiring the child to say ‘please’ before passing her kai (food). She felt the child ‘was a little bit less able to be herself than maybe a neurotypical child (P11)’.

Other participants shared how it could be challenging when other educators had unrealistic goals or expectations for tamariki takiwātanga:

They were trying to force him to come sit down at mat time. I said, ‘leave him please, he’s allowed to run around behind me. He’s still listening . . . just because he’s not sitting down does not mean he’s not part of us’. (P08)

It was also challenging when there were no clear goals for participants to focus on. ‘Because he didn’t have that goal to work towards as such, it was more just what we were thinking he needed’ (P03).

‘Everything we do with him, we do with everybody’: regular teaching approaches and practices are adapted to fit each child

This theme covers the teaching approaches and practices that participants drew on to support tamariki takiwātanga. There were three subthemes: (1) drawing on a strengths-based approach and regular teaching strategies, (2) using different strategies and approaches in different settings and (3) supporting the cultural development of tamariki takiwātanga.

Drawing on a strengths-based approach and regular teaching strategies

Many participants described their teaching approach as ‘relationship-focussed’ and centred around building strong relationships with children. Participants also frequently used the term ‘strengths-based’ when describing their approach to teaching tamariki takiwātanga. They recognised and celebrated the child’s strengths and helped others to see them too: ‘so really using any opportunity I can to really cast a spotlight on him and his strengths’ (P09).

Participants described using teaching strategies that aligned with their overall teaching approach and often drew on their ‘regular intentional teaching strategies’ (P04) when working with tamariki takiwātanga:

Our focus at kindy is just for our kids to feel loved and confident and be resilient and so all of our teaching strategies for any child are kind of adapted to obviously meet individual needs but they are all similar in that regard. (P02)

They also acknowledged the importance of having a range of strategies to draw on:

Not all strategies work for all children. But having a kit set, like having a whole bunch of ideas that you can pull from quickly and easily and cheaply. (P09)

Sometimes participants needed to adapt their ‘regular strategies’ or create new ones, for example, when working with non-speaking children, supporting sensory regulation and social interaction or managing self-harming behaviours. Participants often used a process of ‘trial and error’ or ‘playing around with ideas’ to find an effective strategy in these situations.

Participants found that the new or adapted strategies that they used with tamariki takiwātanga were usually helpful for all children:

Never underestimate the use of visuals . . . not just for children with autism, but all children learn with visuals, so making it more of a natural thing . . . it’s actually part of what we provide in our environment for all children. (P01)

For some participants, using these same teaching strategies with all children was important for promoting inclusion. This also aligned with participants’ inclusive, strengths-based approach to teaching where all children are viewed as ‘inherently capable’. One participant explained that that this was especially important in Māori EC settings because ‘in te ao Māori view, we don’t differentiate one from another, so everything we do with him, we do with everybody, to a point’ (P05).

Using different strategies and approaches in different settings

Three participants had experience supporting tamariki takiwātanga in both mainstream and specialised EC services. All noted differences in teaching approaches and strategies across settings. One participant commented:

At the specialist service, if they had a child that liked to rip paper, they would set up an activity that would be based around that fascination for him to rip paper. Whereas this centre has gone, ‘you’ve ripped all of our books, we can’t have books out, we can’t have nice things, and you’re ripping children’s artwork. We don’t trust you’ and . . . they’re yelling at him. (P07)

She suggested the difference was due to educators from the mainstream service feeling overworked and having less access to training and specialist support.

A participant with experience working in Māori-medium and specialised settings explained that the strategies she had used to support tamariki takiwātanga in the specialised setting were very ‘Pākehafied’ (Pākeha refers to European people/New Zealanders of European descent) and different to a te ao Māori approach:

So, I’ve gone back to sort of the strategies that I’d be using if I was working with one of the children inside the specialist service. But I’m slowly branching off, and then go to start using my strategies, where I’m looking through the te ao Māori lens. (P08)

Supporting the cultural development of tamariki takiwātanga

Participants shared a range of strategies that they used to support the cultural development of the Māori children that they worked with. Many of these were useful for supporting tamariki takiwātanga; however, some felt less useful or needed to be adapted. The key strategy for supporting cultural development was fostering strong relationships with whānau (family groups). Several participants drew on their relationship with the child’s whānau to seek advice on specific ways that they could support cultural development. Some participants highlighted the importance of checking in with whānau regarding the extent that they want tikanga Māori (Māori cultural practices) and te reo Māori included in their child’s day because whānau may vary in the extent to which they value and prioritise te ao Māori. This was not the case for kōhanga reo kaiako (teachers from Māori language preschools) who explained that ‘whānau send their kids to kōhanga reo (Māori language preschool) for the Māori’ (P05).

Incorporating te reo Māori into daily routines and activities was another strategy for supporting cultural development. Most participants suggested that it was important to use te reo Māori with all children, including those who were non-speaking because ‘those words are important’ (P07):

I always tried to use te reo with his interests, and to a level that I knew he could understand, you know. And my te reo is limited, but I use what I know, and I use what I can. (P09)

One participant also noted that tamariki takiwātanga seem to be more responsive to te reo Māori because ‘it’s more expressive’ and uses more ‘facial expressions and tone of voice’ (P10) than English. However, several participants expressed uncertainty about using te reo Māori with non-speaking tamariki takiwātanga because it ‘might just confuse them’.

Cultural development was also supported through waiata Māori (Māori songs) and several participants commented that participating in waiata provided tamariki takiwātanga with opportunities to be near others in a group and could support physical and language development:

I hadn’t really fully realised the importance of that, and now that I see that’s a real powerful way of people being part of a group and part of belonging, and even for coordination, you know. (P11)

One participant helped to facilitate a kapa haka (traditional Māori performing arts) group for neurodivergent students. They suggested that strategies used in that group could be used as a model for supporting cultural development and meeting the needs of tamariki takiwātanga in EC settings. These strategies included (1) setting activities up as an invitation without pressure to participate, (2) allowing children to engage in their own way, (3) providing space where children can move freely and go outside when needed, (4) including lots of physical activity, (5) making learning activities hands on and fun and (6) keeping things interesting by providing lots of variety and different interesting activities for children to engage with.

Supporting children, including tamariki takiwātanga, to learn their pepeha (Māori introduction covering identity and connections to people and land) was another strategy shared by some participants:

The children were working on their pepeha and he actually could say the words um, well, a portion of it . . . That was massive, and it made his mum just beam, you know. (P09)

Some participants also shared how they recognised and nurtured the child’s inherent mana (inherent worth, dignity, power) and wairua (spiritual essence):

When we recognised that his wairua was so important, that became the focus for us. Like, because he’s so spiritual . . . by building him up as an individual, his identity and culture came through a lot more and he was able to recognise himself as having mana. (P03)

Making connections to Atua Māori (ancestors with continuing influence/deity/spiritual guardians) was another strategy used by some participants:

So, in a Māori context, even to this day, we take everything back to how it was . . . With my child that was non-verbal, he would spot the smallest ant walking across the path, and he just focused on insects, so that again links to Tane Mahuta, because he’s the atua of insects . . . So, we did a big focus on that and . . . that link to him. (P05)

Participants working in Māori-medium settings shared, ‘we do tikanga Māori every single day . . . they’ve got to go to professional development to bring that back in, but that’s never an issue for us’ (P05). They explained that te ao Māori is the foundation of all their teaching, so tikanga Māori and te reo Māori are embedded into teaching and learning with all children, whether they are autistic or not.

Discussion

This qualitative study explored educators’ experience of working with tamariki takiwātanga in New Zealand EC settings. Overall, participants shared a passion for supporting autistic children, who they viewed as capable and highly valued members of their learning communities. The approach that participants took to supporting tamariki takiwātanga appeared to be shaped by their underlying understandings of autism as a difference and their relationship-focussed, strengths-based approach to teaching. There was a general acknowledgement of the importance of supporting the cultural development of tamariki takiwātanga; however, non-Māori participants typically felt unsure of how to do this.

Most participants had personal experience with autism and/or other types of neurodivergence, either through lived experience or through parenting autistic/neurodivergent children. This personal experience was viewed as an asset because it supported participants’ knowledge and understanding of autism and their confidence in supporting tamariki takiwātanga. This appears to align with previous research with teachers from Australia (Devi et al., 2023) and the United Kingdom and China (Ballantyne et al., 2021) suggesting a link between teachers’ direct experience with autistic people, their knowledge of autism (Ballantyne et al., 2021) and the extent to which they feel prepared to support autistic learners (Devi et al., 2023). While previous studies have focussed on the influence of educators’ professional experience with autism, the findings from this study suggest that personal experience may be another valuable source of knowledge and understanding.

Overall, participants’ understandings of autism tended to align with the neurodiversity perspective where autism is viewed as a difference, rather than a deficit or disorder (Pellicano & den Houting, 2022). This is perhaps unsurprising given Aotearoa’s strong focus on inclusive education (MoE, 2019, 2023) and the natural alignment between the neurodiversity perspective and the intents of inclusive education (MacArthur & Rutherford, 2016; Pellicano et al., 2018). However, research suggests that in practice, many inclusive education models draw upon deficit perspectives of autism (Manalili, 2021) and are often underpinned by approaches which may conflict with the values of inclusive education (Norwich, 2019; Underwood & Parekh, 2020). There was some evidence of this in this study with several participants commenting on their colleagues’ promotion of goals or strategies focussed on helping tamariki takiwātanga to achieve ‘normal outcomes’. It is also possible that current participants’ understandings were aligned with the neurodiversity perspective because of their personal experience with autism and/or other types of neurodivergence. Indeed, the neurodiversity movement has been largely driven by neurodivergent people (Leadbitter et al., 2021), so it would make sense that educators who are neurodivergent or have neurodivergent family members would be more likely to be aware of and ascribe to this perspective.

There was also apparent alignment between neurodiversity and te ao Māori (Māori world view) understandings of autism. However, there were some elements that were distinct to a te ao Māori perspective, such as the recognition of mana (inherent worth, dignity, power) and wairua (spiritual essence) and links to Atua Māori (ancestors with continuing influence/deity/spiritual guardians). Participants with knowledge of te ao Māori were able to draw upon mātauranga Māori (Māori knowledge) to inform their work with tamariki takiwātanga and in doing so felt able to support their holistic development, including cultural development. This aligns with previous research highlighting the importance of cultural knowledge and expertise for professionals working with Māori learners with diverse needs (Bevan-Brown, 2006).

All participants acknowledged the importance of supporting the cultural development of tamariki takiwātanga; however, the extent to which participants felt able to do this varied. Māori participants, especially those working in Māori-medium settings, appeared to be the most confident because they could draw upon their own cultural expertise. Many of the non-Māori participants felt unprepared to support cultural development, particularly when working with non-speaking children. They indicated a desire for PLD in this area. At times, participants also found it challenging to support cultural development within the confines of the education system which is dominated by Western world views (Berryman & Woller, 2013).

Participants shared multiple strategies that were useful in supporting the cultural development of tamariki takiwātanga, including the use of kapa haka (traditional Māori performing arts). Previous research has found a wide range of benefits associated with participation in kapa haka (Pihama et al., 2014; Whitinui, 2010); however, the benefits for tamariki takiwātanga have not been specifically examined. Participants from this study also incorporated te reo Māori into their teaching to support cultural development. However, several participants questioned the use of te reo Māori with non-speaking tamariki takiwātanga. This appears to align with findings from previous research where some whānau Māori (Māori family groups) reported concern that learning both te reo Māori and English would confuse their autistic child (Bevan-Brown, 2004). However, autistic children appear to experience the same benefits from exposure to multiple languages as their non-autistic peers (Davis et al., 2022; Gilhuber et al., 2023). Furthermore, language is an important aspect of cultural identity (Davis et al., 2022), so exposure to te reo Māori is likely to be important in supporting tamariki takiwātanga to develop strong cultural identities.

When working with tamariki takiwātanga, participants’ primary focus was building positive relationships and supporting wellbeing. Overall, participants seemed to be most confident in these aspects of their work and less confident in teaching more specific child goals. Participants found that their ‘regular’ relationship-focussed and strengths-based teaching approaches worked for most things, with adaptations and different strategies required in some situations. In these situations, participants often used ‘trial and error’ to find a successful strategy. However, most participants indicated that they would appreciate more PLD to provide them with a range of strategies to draw from. This aligns with previous research indicating that Australian educators benefit from learning multiple strategies because no single approach or method suits all autistic children (Devi et al., 2023).

Our findings also align with previous research from the United States (Barned et al., 2011) and the United Kingdom (Ravet, 2018) suggesting that initial teacher education does not adequately prepare educators for supporting autistic children in inclusive settings. This study suggests that in-service PLD plays a key role in knowledge acquisition for educators. Overall, participants wanted access to more PLD on autism, especially regarding te ao Māori understandings and approaches. For example, PLD based around the non-judgmental ‘takiwātanga’ understanding of autism including recognition of the links between tamariki takiwātanga and Atua Māori (ancestors with continuing influence/deity/spiritual guardians). For participants who already had an understanding of te ao Maōri, this was to consolidate Western knowledge and strategies with their Māori frames of understanding. For other participants, it was to understand how they could incorporate mātauranga Māori (Māori knowledge) into their work with tamariki takiwātanga. Participants commented on a lack of cultural content in PLD; this appears to be consistent with the overall trend in autism research and resources which tend to focus on Western understandings and perspectives (West et al., 2016). The current findings may also be of relevance to other indigenous groups who ‘share related historical and ongoing patterns of subjection and oppression’ (Simpson, 2021, p. 423).

Limitations

A key limitation relates to the fact that we conducted and reported on this research in English, rather than in te reo Māori. Although we have attempted to include kupu Māori (Māori words and phrases) throughout this article, it is possible that important cultural concepts and nuances have been ‘lost in translation’. Also, we have discussed Māori knowledge and understandings, but it is important to note that these may vary across iwi (tribes; Stucki, 2010). It is also important to note that all of our participants were passionate about supporting autistic children and appeared to have a good knowledge of autism; this is not likely to be reflective of all EC educators in Aotearoa. Also, our participants did not include any male educators. It is possible that our findings would have been different if we had included a more diverse group of educators including males and educators who were less passionate/knowledgeable about autism.

Implications for practice and future research

This study highlights the ways in which culture can impact the understanding of and approaches to supporting autistic children. This has important implications for future research and the design and delivery of supports for autistic children, particularly those from under-represented groups. Participants acknowledged the importance of supporting the cultural development of tamariki takiwātanga, but most did not have access to the knowledge or resources necessary to do so. This is an important consideration for the design and delivery of future training programmes for preservice and in-service educators. Several participants shared strategies they had found effective in supporting cultural development, for example, including te reo Māori and recognising and nurturing the links between tamariki takiwātanga and Atua Māori (ancestors with continuing influence/deity/spiritual guardians). These strategies may be useful for other educators working with tamariki takiwātanga. Also, many of the current participants were able to draw on their personal experience with neurodivergence and/or resources developed by autistic people to support tamariki takiwātanga. This illustrates the value of including autistic voices in the design and delivery of supports and as a source of knowledge for educators. Similarly, the value of the cultural skill and knowledge possessed by Māori educators was highlighted by participants. This points to a need for more Māori EC educators and the provision of cultural training for non-Māori educators. It may be valuable for future research to include whānau perspectives and observations of teacher practice to enable a more comprehensive understanding of support for tamariki takiwātanga in inclusive EC settings.