Michelle Erai
I grew up in Whangarei and went to Tikipunga High School until 1984 when I moved to Wellington. After working for a while I went to Victoria University, graduating with a Bachelor of Arts in Sociology and Women's Studies, and then a Masters in Social Science Research. In 1995 I went to work at the New Zealand Embassy in Washington, D.C., then I travelled around the U.S. finally ending up enrolled in a PhD program at the University of California, Santa Cruz, where I have lived for the last six years. In my dissertation I am looking at unpublished written records of violence against Māori women between 1820-1870.
Since 1989 I've also been involved in contemporary anti-violence work, mostly concerned with wanting to end rape and domestic violence against Māori women and children.
My links to Māori, particularly Ngapuhi, are through my father's parents, Te Huia Heta and Hira Erai, and my research and anti-violence work within various communities.
I'm working with rangatahi in Ruakaka.
Email: Michelle.Erai@vuw.ac.nz
Why have I chosen to do the fieldwork in Ruakaka?
When I was about 12 or 13 years old I had a paper route that took me around the airport of Whangarei. On the way home I would rest on my bicycle and look across the harbour to Whangarei Heads, an impressive range guarding the entrance to our port. The stark and brooding silhouette of Mount Manaia, a prominent ridge, looks like the front teeth of a lower jaw, with five jagged columns of rock pointing skyward.
A few years ago, when I was visiting my mum and step-dad, I was at the local Manaia club, and between pints and pool, an old fisherman who was the descendant of a local Māori woman and a Portuguese sailor who had jumped ship in the 1800's, told me this story of the mountain.
Mt Manaia
He said "On top of Mt Manaia stood the pa of Manaia, paramount chief of Whangarei. Opposite, on what is now called Marsden Point, lived the chief Hautatu, married to Pito, the most beautiful girl in the district.
The jealous Manaia sent Hautatu to lead a war party to the Bay of Plenty and while he was gone built a causeway right across the harbour to Marsden Point. By night Manaia led a war party over the causeway to slaughter those left in Hautatu's pa and to carry the lovely Pito back to his mountain home.
In a rage Hautatu returned to successfully attack Manaia's pa. Manaia, his two children and Pito fled along the mountain top, chased by Hautatu, who was about to strike Pito down when all five were hit by lightning and turned into stone."
The figures still seem to run an eerie race across the mountain top, and regardless of the beautiful hiking trails to the summit, and the tiny communities at the foot, the fisherman said that to this day no Māori will live in the shadow of Manaia. Although I have heard various versions of this story throughout my childhood what has always puzzled me is why Hautatu was trying to beat Pito.
Bream Bay
I chose to approach the Bream Bay Community Support Trust in Ruakaka (close to Marsden Point) to ask if they might be interested in participating in the Through Our Eyes Project for a number of reasons.
Firstly, having grown up in nearby Whangarei, and still having family there, it made sense for me to work in an area where I have personal connections. Not only might I share some historical, social and geographical understandings with rangatahi and their whanau, but I would also have my own whanau to stay with and get support from.
Sue Rudman and Wendy Kake
I had first heard about the work of two Māori women, Sue Rudman and Wendy Kake, with youth in Ruakaka through a friend of mine involved in anti-violence issues here in Wellington. Linking with Sue and Wendy through anti-violence connections provided another level of both possibility and accountability.
Potential outcomes for rangatahi
The potential outcomes of participating in Through Our Eyes for rangatahi (the chance to be creative and have their voices heard in a national forum; technical and theoretical skill acquisition; meeting and working with other youth in a cyber-community; connection and exposure to a University context) might, I thought, be welcomed by a group marginalised from such opportunities because of violence (inter-personal and/or institutionalised).
In addition Sue and Wendy are able to check my personal and professional 'credentials' through our shared community of anti-violence activism, allowing for a different, and powerful, level of accountability to be required of me, as a researcher.
Why this area?
Finally, I am attracted to the contradictions that exist in this area. It has, I think, some of the most beautiful coastline in Northland, stretching from Waipu cove, past Uretiti and up to the surf beaches of Ruakaka. But it ends in the eyesore of Marsden Point Oil Refinery, with its ugly buildings and the flame that has dominated the night sky since before I can remember. The refinery has brought a level of economic stability into the community, as well as a complex social hierarchy of executive management, engineers, blue collar workers and support staff.
The Ruakaka of my childhood was a summer holiday spot, and still has a number of motels and tourist cabins, but the refinery, and the needs of its resident labour pool, also make it the opposite of a 'leisure destination.' Mt Manaia and the Whangarei Heads completely dominate the northern entrance to Whangarei Port, shrinking its width, and making each side seem very close to each other. But the Heads and its bays (including Urquarts, Little Munroe and McLeod, where my parents live) have become a thriving outpost for Whangarei-ites to retire to, or launch their boats in, while Ruakaka is still perceived, somewhat, as a rural, beachside village.
I find this juxtaposition of the magnificent and the mundane, rural and urban (if not Whangarei, then Auckland!), beauty and ugliness, pride and brutality, to be fascinating, and I'm hoping the images created by rangatahi from such a place will resonate for me personally, as well as make a unique contribution to a visual commentary on what Aotearoa looks like, through their eyes.
