Learning to be New Zealanders – from Egmont to Taranaki

Looking forward to John Campbell's series "From Egmont to Taranaki" which launches on TVNZ tomorrow according to an Radio NZ interview (though seems to be online here already). I have only glanced at it so far, but will be interesting to listen and compare notes with John, as someone of similar age who has been gradually coming to terms with the ongoing process of 'becoming a New Zealander"*, partly through this blog series.

John learns about Aotearoa largely through the lens of Taranaki – not a bad place to start, or finish for that matter. But I feel a bit more of a personal connection with Taranaki, where my father started working in the dairy industry after immigrating from the Netherlands in 1954, and where I worked for a couple of years in the 1990s. Both of us receiving huge insights into 'different lands' for us, and both of us – I realised after I left – benefitting indirectly from the land confiscations that John covers in his podcast.

But I'm reminded of three little memories from Taranaki – insights into racism, prejudice and preferences from the 1990s, but I'm sure much of it still runs deep.

The first was in a conversation with my boss, when I quite naturally referred to the mountain as 'Taranaki' (even though I had grown up referring to it as Mt Egmont – geographical nomenclature had started to shift – and so had I). My boss, an older guy not originally from the area, said quite simply and matter of factly, something along the lines of "I have to say, it's always going to be Mt Egmont for me." No defensiveness, no anger, no big deal. We each had our preferred name, and agree to disagree.

The second incident surprised me. The young female head of the District Information Office, recently back from studies or a job outside the district, said something along the lines that she felt Māori around the place these days looked a lot more bolshie than they used to. I wish I could remember the precise word – but at present, bolshie or assertive comes closest. I said nothing.

The most jarring comment however, came from a well-respected Pākehā Councillor, who up until that time, seemed to me the most decent and upright person on the Council. A young engineer from Tauranga had earlier described him as having a lot of 'mana' in the area he lived and served in. That comment struck me then – it was probably the first time I'd heard a Māori concept like that applied in general conversation. So, it was even more jarring, when this same Councillor, as a car-load of us headed back from a Council meeting in Patea, should say to us all: 'You know, they say there are only 9  honest Māori in Patea – and they'll all sitting in that canoe there' – pointing to the stone canoe that sits atop the entrance to Memorial Park in Patea (and made famous with the video of the song "Poi E"). I was shocked, saddened and surprised at who had said it, but I also said nothing myself.

However, I was also fortunate in my time with the Council to be witness to a significant meeting between Council representatives and mana whenua over Turuturu Mokai, a four-century old pa site, that had been neglected and abused, with a Council dump once being located within the site. (Eventually the pa gained recognition as a wahi tapu (sacred site) in 2016 – but I understand much still needs to be done to rehabilitate and fully recognise it.)

I am looking forward to what John and his friends have to tell me, tell us, of their journey – our journey. 

 

* a term which initially referred only to the Indigenous occupants of Aotearoa.