The green, green grass of home . . .

TWO SHOTS: Clive Bibby is trying for a seat on Gisborne District Council, and Hauora Tairawhiti.

Opinion

I’ve never been much of a Tom Jones fan although I do admire his ability to keep drawing the numbers to his less frequent concerts.

However, the one song of his that gets me humming along is a nostalgic rendition of “The green, green grass of home”.

I was reminded of its capacity to bring grown men to tears, including me, as it played on our car radio during a recent return to my turangawaewae near Waipawa in Central Hawke’s Bay for a family reunion.

Our family had once owned a sizeable chunk of this beautiful part of New Zealand’s pristine farmland and although statistically our control over what happens on that land is less significant today, it is impossible to ignore the memories of that association — whch come flooding back when you re-enter the zone.

As a student of history, I am proud of the fact that our tenure as kaitiaki of this magnificent piece of our national heritage has been recorded in honourable terms.

Right from the time in the late 19th century when my great-grandparents legitimately acquired the land — most of it in a non-productive state — and began the long, slow, expensive and at times heartbreaking process of development, successive generations have shown that they appreciate how fortunate we were to have chosen this lifestyle as a vehicle to make our contribution, and this area to call our spiritual home.

Other families, both Maori and Pakeha, can testify to this sense of belonging as an ideal basis for building societies confident in their own skin — each one proud of their individual successes in establishing footprints for others to follow.

Apart from the sheer hard work involved in conserving and maintaining each property, ready for handing on to future generations, there will always be a need for appreciating the requirements of a management role.

Whether our names are on the deed of title or not, our responsibilities to the nation are far more important. Our individual occupancy is temporary — the land and its surrounding community is permanent.

Understanding those responsibilities is the main feature of communities who want to continue moving forward for the benefit of all — learning from the past but not continually litigating it.

I say that as we watch yet another sad chapter of our colourful but fractured history (this time at Ihumatao), which has produced little else apart from unsightly squabbles between family (hapu) members over land ownership and whose view should hold sway.

It is a shame that so much energy is wasted trying to establish leadership and negotiating authority in what are really only family disputes, when a compromise solution should not only be achievable but would benefit all.

Why do we pander to these groups who appear to want nothing more than a public scrap at the taxpayers’ expense? Is it fair to ask our police force to keep their vigil watching over proceedings on freezing nights, well beyond the warmth from the protesters’ log fires? I think not!

None of this current generation is serving their people responsibly if they spend most of their waking hours in front of the cameras. Their time as kaitiaki may have come but it already has all the hallmarks of wasted opportunities. The memory of their tupuna deserves better.