Before there were roads,
my ancestors trusted stars.
They read the sky like scripture,
felt the pulse of the ocean beneath carved vaka
and followed the future they could not yet see.
People called them explorers,
but they were never searching to be found.
They already knew who they were.
Perhaps that is where my pathway began.
Not in a classroom,
or beneath intense ceiling lights,
but somewhere between saltwater and starlight,
where courage was measured by the willingness
to paddle towards tomorrow.
Today, my ocean looks different.
It is bound in textbooks,
hidden inside examination papers,
and filled with opportunities my ancestors could only imagine.
Yet every time I open a book,
I hear the echo of wooden paddles striking water.
Education is not a journey away from my people,
it is another voyage because of them.
I carry more than a school bag.
I carry the quiet prayers of women who placed family before themselves,
the calloused hands of those who worked so the next generation could choose,
And the unwavering belief that each child should travel further than the last.
They did not cross oceans so I would forget where I came from.
They crossed them so I could see beyond the horizon they first imagined.
Kate Edgar stepped where no woman in Aotearoa had stepped before.
My ancestors sailed where maps insisted there was nothing.
Neither waited for permission to move forward.
Both proved that pathways are not discovered – they are created.

That is the inheritance I choose to honour.
Excellence, to me, is not standing above others.
It is becoming a bridge between where my ancestors stood
and where the generations after me will stand.
Every certificate bears fingerprints older than my own.
Every achievement is another paddle stroke.
Every lesson is another star.
Every opportunity is another horizon.
One day, someone will ask me where my pathway began.
I will not point to a certificate,
a classroom,
or a trophy.
I will point to the ocean.
Because long before I learned to chase excellence,
My ancestors taught me how to navigate it.

Written by: Sela Mohetau – Year 13, McAuley High School

Everyone assumes that pathways are roads.
Straight.
Purposeful.
Leading somewhere.
Mine was twenty-five metres long.
Every morning before sunrise,
I stood at one end of a swimming pool,
staring at the tiled line beneath the water,
believing my future could be measured in seconds.
The water taught me to count in breaths.
The clock taught me that
a hundredth of a second
could separate triumph from almost.
Every race asked the same question.
“How much more can you give?”
For years,
my answer was always,
“More.”
Then my shoulder stopped answering.
Not with a crack.
Not with a single race.
Just small aches
that slowly became limits.
The kind of ending
that doesn’t arrive all at once.
Only one day you realise,
you’ve already finished.
I mourned someone
who was still alive.
The girl who believed she’d always
chase the other end of the pool.

When my family moved
from the Philippines,
to New Zealand,
I packed medals.
Goggles.
A swimsuit that still smelled
faintly of chlorine.
I thought I was bringing my past with me.
I didn’t realise I was leaving
the version of myself
that wore it.
Today,
I still stand beside a pool.
Only now,
my lane is much shorter.
Tiny hands grip the edge.
Little voices tremble.
Wide eyes search mine
before they search the water.
“Will you help me?”
Always the same question.
Always the same answer.
“Yes.”
Not because I can promise
they won’t sink.
But because I know what it feels like
to believe you might.
Some children let go
after thirty minutes.
Others take weeks before they trust
that the water can hold them.
And every time they do,
I find myself cheering
for a finish line
that doesn’t belong to me.

Funny.
I spend years believing
the purpose of swimming
was reaching the other end.
No one told me that sometimes
your greatest achievement
is helping someone else
leave the wall.
People ask if I miss competing.
Sometimes.
I miss the silence
before the starting buzzer.
The certainty that all I had to do
was swim.
But I no longer measure my life
by the races I never got to swim.
Because somewhere between
leaving one country,
finding another,
and watching a child
swim their very first metre
without looking back,
I realised that
pathways aren’t defined
by the finish lines
we cross.
They’re defined
by the starting lines
we make possible
for someone else.
I no longer race
towards the other end
of the pool.
I now stand there.
Waiting.Because sometimes,
the person waiting at the finish
becomes the reason someone else
finds the courage
to begin.

Written by: Caitlin Dawn P.Kier – Year 12, Alfriston College

In gardens of numbers
Pathways
laid unmade.

There,
K. Edger
hid behind
Her
virile name.

Better he than
Her in
society askew, but
Certainty is change.

Where fear bred hate,
Strife taught us;
Love
will reign.

no longer
K. Edger hiding
Her
Name

Kate Edgers’
Words laid claim
to pews
to lecture halls
to places
once denied.

For Sister.
For Daughters.
For many more
Women
no longer needing to hide

We will be named.
Every step,
another path.
We are the change.

We are the Rimu perching proud,
Our Roots
dug deep,
soily-bound.

let us
Learn.
let us
Love.

Lest we forget
days of strife,
the dearly departed
Soldiers, Nurses, and,
Pathways uncharted.

Roots
crowd the lungs
We share,
not all that Different,
much the Same.

Immutable are
Distinctions and,
Roots.
Our
Direction; a choice.

only
Us
to blame.

We are the
Pathways
We are
Our
Voice.

What comes next is Our Choice.

Written by: Mila Rivas – Year 12, Green Bay High School

Our lives,
Our future,
Affected by so many things,
Our people,
Our choices,
Our education.

Walking down this path,
of logic and emotions
Black and white,
but there’s this complex gray,
wrong and right,
but I don’t know which way,
happy, sad, and wrath.

HOW DO I NAVIGATE THIS PATH?

Swimming through these oceans,
Of stress, work and life,
These waves crashing down,
As I’m trying not to drown,
Climbing mountains to big to even see the top,
Should I just stop?

HOW DO I NAVIGATE THIS PATH?

I’m lost, trying to find my way,
But there is no map, and everyone is telling me different directions
“This way!”
“No! That way!”
“If you go that way, you’re evil!”
“If you go that way, you’re stupid!”
“OUR WAY IS BETTER!”

HOW DO I NAVIGATE THIS PATH?

WAIT!
LOOK!

The history has been carved for me to make myself great!
From female protesters, to revolutionary techniques and art,
The future is uncertain, but I can make a difference, it’s not too late!
From becoming a female protester, to expressing my heart,
The present has opportunities like never before!
Meeting new people, showing my skills, and even more still,
Right now life might feel like one big black hole, sucking you in, but someday you will find something that hole will fill.
You never know your pathway until you open that door, and find love, passion, purpose and more!

Written by: Bethsharon Mattocks
Year 13 – Tangaroa College