A female Prime Minister speaks at Waitangi and it feels surprisingly normal.
No one loses their shit during the speeches.
The only crime is sunburn.
The media show examples of the wars of the 1860s and their impact, just like they have for World War One.
Northern Maori determine by themselves the right negotiating structure for their Treaty of Waitangi historical claims, even if it takes longer.
Citizens, locals, and tourists marvel at the waka and at the delicacy and complexity of the Maori culture on display at the Waitangi grounds.
Symbols framed by Maori for the news abound, and their impact resonates for a while.
People speaking at the marae try out the limit of their Maori, stumble, but are encouraged and continue anyway.
The government as a whole is profoundly affected by the experience and says so.
Maori at Waitangi do the same.
People are pleasantly surprised by the level of agreement.
New Zealand permanently lifts its head about Waitangi.
She brings her baby next time.
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