For me, this is personal.
I came to Ōtautahi Christchurch in 2000 and, by late in the year, was working as a self-employed archaeologist. I was 23 and I did not know what I was doing. For much of the 10 years that followed, I was the only person doing any archaeology in the city, all of it as a consultant, in response to the legislation that protects archaeological sites in Aotearoa, and all of it relating to the European settlement of the city. As a result, and also because, although I’m not from Ōtautahi Christchurch, I had grown up not far from the city and it had loomed large in my childhood, I began to feel a sense of ‘ownership’ of that archaeology. Ownership is too strong a word, but I guess I felt personally invested in the city’s archaeology.
Image: K. Bone.
When the earthquakes struck in 2010 and 2011, I was still one of the few people in the city doing archaeological work. Because of the way things worked out – because I was ambitious, because I was in the right place at the right time, because, if ‘my’ city was going to be dug up, I did not want that to be happening without me – because of all this, I became the nominated archaeologist for much of the archaeological work in and around the city post-earthquake. I suddenly found myself employing a whole bunch of people, and doing very little archaeology myself. I became a manager, and, while I knew a whole lot more about doing consultant archaeology than when I was 23, I still did not really know what I was doing. I learnt a lot, although some things I did not learn until it was all over.
To say ‘it was the best of times, it was the worst of times’ is (a) a cliché and (b) not accurate, but it’s pretty close. I employed and worked with a lot of amazing people, and we did some incredible archaeology and I remember laughing a lot. And, as already mentioned, I learnt a lot. But it was not easy, as it was not easy for anyone working in that post-earthquake construction environment. The hours were long, the work was intense and never-ending, there was not enough time and there were a lot of pressures, from all directions.
All of this might seem tangential to forming a charity to preserve and share the archaeological archive recovered in and around Ōtautahi Christchurch as a result of the earthquakes. It’s not. This is part of what drives me: the blood, sweat and tears that I and others have shed in the creation of this archive. And the money. People paid a lot of money to have this data recovered. They paid that money essentially because legislation in Aotearoa protects archaeological sites, and if you are going to modify or destroy an archaeological site, you must pay to have the data from it recovered. This legislation is founded on the belief that archaeology is a public good, because all New Zealanders stand to benefit from the information that can be gained from an archaeological site. That’s because archaeology can tell us things that we can’t learn from any other source.
Image: F. Bradley.
This is the other thing that drives me: the potential of this archaeological archive, and the taonga it contains. And by ‘taonga’, I mean the information it contains. This is the real treasure at the heart of this archive: information about people and places. I believe this information – these stories – are a taonga, thanks to their ability to connect us to the past, to help us understand that past and to bring that past alive. One of the founding principles of CAP is to make this information freely available – not just the research results (we’ll do that, too), but the information itself, so that anyone can ask any questions they want of the data, whoever they are. For while on the one hand I believe that this archive should be retained, I do not believe it should be retained if no one is using it. So we have two tasks ahead: preserving the archive and ensuring it is used. Fundamentally, we want to realise the potential of all that was invested in the creation of this archive.
So, how are we going to do this? Well, first up, we’ve formed a charitable trust, so that we can apply for funding. And we’ve begun that process of funding applications. In the first instance, we’re seeking funding to build a database and a website. The database is to hold all the information, and the website is to make it freely available to researchers and the general public. At the same time, we’ll be promoting the data and the database via blogs and social media posts that demonstrate (a) what’s in the archive and (b) something of the range of research questions that can be asked of it. In addition to that, we’ll be running public programmes (think exhibitions, talks and hopefully work with local schools) to share the material in the archive. Longer term, we want to have a space where people can come and access the material themselves, and to work much more closely with professionals and non-professionals alike, on both research topics and public events.
Image: J. Garland.
And before I sign off there’s another reason why this is personal. It frustrates the heck out of me that this archive is not protected by legislation, that there is no permanent long-term home for it in Aotearoa, and thus that it is left to private individuals to save and preserve it. This speaks volumes to me about how we, as a nation, value our ‘cultural’ heritage (not that I needed this particular piece of evidence, thank you very much). This is a situation both brought about and exemplified by the fact that our own history was not a compulsory part of the school curriculum until this year.
Yes, I am a bit angry and frustrated, but more so, I am passionate and I am determined. I know that this archive is worth preserving and, with Jessie and Hayden, I know that we can achieve this. T. E. Lawrence probably isn’t who you automatically turn to for inspirational quotes (and, yes, flawed), but here you are (also, please forgive the gendered language):
“All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake up in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are the dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.”
We have our eyes wide open.
Katharine Watson