This offers beneficial guidance when considering what this time means for students.
The early year energy carries with it grand plans and high hopes, some of which fade with time, while others come into more precise focus.
But there is value in pausing to remember where we began. Matariki is a time for remembering, not only the people we have lost, but also the things, places and relationships that have slipped away quietly.
It is a time to reflect on those who are no longer with us, to witness our growth and our small and significant wins.
These may be loved ones, old friends or people who shaped us in ways we never fully articulated.
They may also be pets. I attended the funeral of Fritz, a friendly dachshund, on Sunday, and found the words, thoughts and feelings sat well within the Matariki kaupapa.
Some students may find themselves reckoning with more abstract forms of loss: a friendship that faded, the hope we held for a paper that didn’t go as planned, the version of ourselves we thought would feel more certain or be more accomplished by now.
These emotional undercurrents can be hard to name and understand in the midst of fast-paced academic university culture, but they are deserving of a space too.
The semester break and Matariki might be the perfect outlet for a safe unpacking and understanding of these feelings.
Students live under pressures that can render rest invisible. We are encouraged to move fast, achieve consistently and always plan for what’s next.
These pressures aren’t only academic. The conditions in which students live are also part of the picture.
It has been heartening to see recent scrutiny placed on landlords who have failed to meet the Healthy Homes Standards.
The subpar housing faced by many students is often laughed off as a "quirk" of flatting in Dunedin, but in reality, it is a form of neglect.
Reflection is needed on the systems we are a part of and how we can imagine better, warmer, drier and more dignified futures for students in those flats.
Matariki and the semester break ask us to pause and acknowledge that not every season will be perfect, and consider how the imperfections of the past year may have led to subtle positive changes and learnings.
It also calls for a celebration of the present.
The end of exams often feels like emerging from a dark tunnel into the light. The stress begins to ease, the calendar quietens and the urgency of academic life is momentarily replaced by slower rhythms.
Many students head home during this period. They reconnect with people, places and communities that shaped them.
Others take trips with friends. It was Mardi Gras in Queenstown this past weekend, a winter festival featuring some student favourite artists, like Hybrid Minds. Festival-goers dress up winter-themed, in pyjamas, ski gear or other costumes to dance in the mud and cold.
Other students remain in Dunedin, again enjoying the quieter streets and cafes, enjoying the opportunity to read books that aren’t assigned readings or write something that isn’t an assignment.
This is also a time of intellectual celebration. Although most results haven’t been released yet, there is pride in what has been learned.
I have found myself able to answer more questions and contribute to conversations with new knowledge gained from the papers I took in semester 1. Learning is not confined to the university campus; it follows us wherever we go.
Traditionally, the rising of Matariki and Puanga signalled not just remembrance and celebration, but direction. The stars were read to anticipate the season ahead and prepare for the future.
As students, we also find ourselves building our future.
One example is in choosing papers for semester 2, which requires reflection, planning and asking important questions.
Who do I want to become? What questions do I want to explore? What work is mine to do?
For some, this will be their final university break. For myself and others, it is just another step in a longer arc.
However, the motion of university finds ways to continue over the break; applications to submit, club meetings to attend, flatting decisions to be made, thoughts about life next semester, next year, even ten years down the line.
Although this movement doesn’t seem to stop, the break and Matariki remind us we do not have to rush.
This sequence of remembrance, celebration and preparation has been a useful foundation for thought. We are granted a break during these mid-year weeks, and many are enjoying the comforts of a warm, peaceful home.
Still, I do empathise with students who will be returning to Dunedin to subpar housing and, like many, will be looking forward to the actions taken following the recent review by Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment.
Kind regards,
Grace.
— Dunedin resident Grace Togneri is a fourth-year law student.
