A great film that - well worth watching (don't let the trailer put you off).
That leads me into my reminiscences growing up in Wellington in the 1950s and 1960s which was fun and maybe I'll share the memories in some later posts.
I lived in Miramar and attended Marist Brothers Miramar.
We lived in Miro street not far from the gas works.
When friends visited they would wrinkle their noses at the smell but we liked it. It was kind of like living in Rotorua (where some relatives lived) with that unique smell that locals love and visitors complain about. This was a working class community and the spirit of the community was pretty good - certainly much better than is found today. The 'cement' that kept everyone together wasn't something that was artificially contrived by a government department (nowadays Kāinga Ora although the new coalition government will soon change that in name and soul to something like Department of Losers). The community was knitted together by a complex mixture of tradition, religion, extended family, schools and - values.
The tradition, in New Zealand terms being a new country without a lot of history, was that two or three generations was a long time. Coupled with this was the fact that before the 1980s New Zealanders rarely moved far away from their birthplace to find employment and accommodation. International air travel was still in infancy and there was no social media to provide 'universal connectivity'. people were happy to stay at home in other words.
Religion, Christian religion, was an important part of community. While not having the rabid elements of sectarianism as seen in the Protestant vs the Catholic factions in Ireland and Scotland and more recently to a lesser degree in central and northern Europe there still was an 'us and them' attitude. Immigrants into New Zealand from the United Kingdom and, post WW2 from Germany, Holland, Poland, Italy, Greece and other 'disrupted' countries were happy to leave that nonsense behind but generations of ingrainment had an effect. It wasn't unusual for Catholic schoolkids like me, when walking along to Primary school in the late 1950s and early 1960s to receive barracking from the State school kids who would climb the fences and call out:
"Catholic dogs, stink like hogs" and other nonsense like that.
It was a bit disconcerting for a child but fortunately, in this country and in our communities bricks, bullets and petrol bombs weren't involved. The religions though - Catholic, Anglican and Presbyterian (there weren't many fringe ones back then) provided, via Sunday church services and associated things like community dances, support groups, fairs and bring and buys, reasons for their congregations to mix and mingle, to form relationships, friendships marriages and other bonds.
Back 'in the day' it was unusual for family members to permanently become separated. Younger people did their 'OE' but returned to settle in the towns and cities that they were born in, some to the same suburbs or even the same streets.
Schools, more then than now were, like churches, central to the community providing additional services like holiday activities, swimming pools for summer, dances, meetings and gathering points. They were valued.
The communities in the suburbs, even the lower socio-economic ones still had a lot more equality and integration than happens today. While there were social and economic differences I wasn't aware of the divides that now separate people into class, ethnicity and political affiliation. This is a shame. I grew up alongside the children of doctors and bank managers, alongside Maori and Polynesian kids as well as the children of immigrants from [post war countries mentioned earlier. Life, while not being as affluent as it is today was certainly richer.
.... to be continued.
