Island Bay was the childhood home of well-respected psychologist Professor James Ernest (Jim) Ritchie. With his wife Professor Jane Ritchie, daughter of his lecturer and mentor Professor Ernest Beaglehole, he worked on many projects on violence, inequality, and childrearing in NZ.
There was nothing in his early life that would have led anyone to expect that this young Pākehā would become a respected researcher and author on Māori culture and a negotiator for Waikato Tainui in their historic Treaty of Waitangi claim settled in 1995.
He taught at Victoria and Waikato Universities. His doctoral thesis became his book “The Making of a Māori”. He received the O.N.Z.M. (New Zealand Order of Merit) in 2001, for services to the Māori people and education. When he died, on 24 September 2009, he was farewelled at both a tangihanga at Turangwaewae, the seat of the Kiingitanga, and a memorial service at the University of Waikato.
James’ parents Alma and Jack, both Australians, settled in Island Bay at 32 Medway Street. They came from a proud working-class background. Jack worked for Truby King making baby formula at the factory near the Karitane Hospital and Truby King House in Melrose, until he was made redundant during the depression of the 1930s.
He bought a dairy at 121 The Parade. The directories in the early 1940s record Mrs Ritchie as the ‘confectioner’ at this address, selling ice-creams, sweets and the other familiar dairy goods. The family may have, for a time, lived at 121, which, like others in the block, had accommodation upstairs and out the back of the shop. All four children were born in Wellington: Ron (b.1924); Joan; Marie, and finally Jim on 12 Dec 1929.
The family was growing during the Depression times, and as with most at the time they lived off the garden by growing their veggies, making soap from lard, and making their own clothes. Jack and Alma would scrape up the manure left behind by the horse-drawn carts serving the neighborhood, to use on the garden. The kids were all very embarrassed by this, but it was a common practice in those days of limited artificial fertilizer, a depression and horses still in widespread use.
Jim attended Island Bay Kindergarten, then Island Bay School. As an adult, he described the teaching as “direct pedagogic instruction and specified curricula and very regimented. [It] was not to my taste”. It also included military drill (see Southern Bays 2022). Jim liked problem solving, and self-directed learning by exploring the local environment. Thinking back in later life he was not aware of any Māori living in the neighbourhood or attending Island Bay Kindergarten or Primary School.
Jim then attended Wellington College, where he failed school certificate and had to repeat the year. Jim did not excel at any particular subject or have any that he was particularly fond of. He is quoted in various sources saying that his chief accomplishment was learning to play dumb. Since he could not learn, he could not be taught, and was largely ignored. He said the best thing was not having to take history lessons seriously. “I avoided indoctrination in the great New Zealand myth that we had dealt with ‘our Māori people’ and had the ‘best race relations in the world’. So, when at high school I met a real live Māori, I had no culturally imported load of prejudice to dump”. He also credits his lack of prejudice on his Australian parentage, meaning they didn’t have any pre-conceptions to impart to the children.
Jim and his brother Ron developed an interest in Opera. Jim may have sung in a choir at some stage but the family were not churchgoers, so it may have been a school choir rather than a church choir the family recalls. Jim adored and admired his elder brother Ron, born in 1924. Ron became a Scout, and Jim followed suit. He loved roaming the hills around Island Bay, and the coastline around the south coast. He and Ron used to often tramp and camp overnight around the coastline between Island Bay and Makara.
They were part of the Island Bay (Baptist) Troop, one of many mostly church-run troops at the time. This troop operated from 1928 to 1949, winding up shortly after Jim left. He joined the Scouts at the age of six, and stayed until his late teens. He said that “the great educative thing about the scouts was earning badges”.
He completed so many of them that he felt he was the most qualified in all New Zealand. He was particularly keen on setting fires and learning to read tracks. He learnt the names of plants and trees, and developed an interest in astronomy. The ability to choose a badge, learn what skills were required and then source a teacher and examiner for them, suited his learning preference. He was one of the keenest amongst his peers and went on to earn the highest award – that of King Scout, following in Ron’s footsteps.
One of his biggest thrills must have been participating at the 6th World Scout Jamboree at Moisson, north-west of Paris, France from 9-20 August 1947. 240 scouts from New Zealand became part of 24,152 scouts and leaders who attended the event from 38 countries. This was the first jamboree after Baden-Powell's death in 1941. Following the devastation of World War ll, this event was aptly named the Jamboree of Peace.
Although the Jamboree itself was only two weeks long, the scouts were away from New Zealand from early May, sailing there on the ‘Rangitata.’ 190 returned on the ‘Atlantis’ in mid-October, others remained in England, returning early in 1948. They journeyed to London via Pitcairn Island, Panama City, Miraflores, Gatun, and Curacao. They also travelled around Scotland and England during their time away. Of course, the scouts also explored Paris.
By this time Jim had been at Wellington Teachers’ College for a year, and had taken a year off in order to attend the Jamboree. He completed his teacher training in 1948.
Jim became a member of the Tararua Tramping Club by the time he was 16 and in that year, 1946, calculated that he spent 42 weekends tramping with either the Scouts or the club. His tramping was largely confined to the North Island and he enthusiastically tramped around many North Island tracks. He loved being in the bush and amongst nature. He recognised that he had to pay attention to conditions and signs in the bush, noting things like the water level in streams. The Tararua ranges were often shrouded in mist, and there were no views to be had when in the bush. You had to know where you were, and how to avoid getting lost. By this time he had gained many survival skills. However, he couldn’t swim so he had to be very careful crossing rivers, using his pack for flotation. Despite his love for tramping he declared that he was not a good climber as he didn’t like heights.
Jim was introduced by a friend to the newly formed Ngāti Poneke Youth Club in Thorndon. “The post-war flood of Māori urban migration was beginning, and the young club provided an important basis of social security for the increasing numbers of young Māori people coming to the city”. He was made to feel welcome, became a regular, and joined the kapa haka group. He said “Poneke claimed to be non-tribal, everyone was welcome irrespective of race, tribe or creed. Despite that, no-one left behind their tribal identity. Tribal affiliation was one of the most important internal networks – I was excluded from that. I was still, in that sense, manuhiri [a guest].” There was a strong sense of standards and pride in the image which the club maintained. “I began to learn through involvement , and there was much in which to become involved…..A sense of community unity was more significant than doctrinaire religious identity; yet each church identity was always respected. This was quite unlike [Island Bay], which was a sort of a sectarian religious zoo. There the Baptists, led by dour Scots from the Shetlands, spread a doctrine of loathing about the Papists, who were themselves divided between the Italian fisherfolk, relaxed and Latin, and their guilt-ridden cousins from Ireland, while the Anglicans stood aside in secure superiority. Compared with that, Poneke seemed to have achieved an easy religious toleration when the rest of my world was stalking and sniffing separately and cautiously about the topic of ecumenism like male dogs greeting each other for the first time”.
Jim became secretary/treasurer of the club about 1948, by which time there were regular entertainment performances – 25-30 a year - as well as the regular Monday club nights, and diverse trips away. He recalled how his role as a Pākehā was questioned, and then resolved, by the intervention of the famous Te Puea, whose unquestioned leadership in Waikato-Tainui and beyond in Māoridom has made her influential throughout New Zealand:
“The Young Club concert party were to perform in the haka competitions at Tūrangawaewae…as a regular member it never occurred to me that my prospect of performance would be in doubt. But when the time came the issue of appropriateness was raised by some elders of the marae. I did not want to cause trouble so I went back, feeling more than a little hurt, to change into regular clothes and sulk. As I sat in the darkened sleeping house, Te Puea herself sought be out and ordered me on. We won. I was part of that winning and as secretary accepted the trophy Pōneke would hold until the next year’s defence came”.
So why would someone who disliked school want to become a teacher? His daughter Dr Jenny Ritchie explained that “he was very curious about people. His dad wanted him to get a trade but his mum stuck up for him. Jack was focusing on being a good provider for the family and I guess with them the depression and lots of lots pf people without jobs it was very much in his mind.
“Dad showed a lot of sensitivity, empathy and respect, but he could be very thought-provoking. He was one of these people that liked to rock the boat, and play Devil’s advocate. He used to say things that would get a reaction, and didn’t mind offending people, if it got them thinking. He had writing skills and a gift for the gab, was a complete orator and he could be a bit of a live wire”.
His passion for earning scout badges clearly shows that he loved learning and exploring. Perhaps he had ideas even then of alternative ways to teach. When finishing teachers’ college, he asked to be placed in a Māori school, and was sent to the East Coast rural community, where he began his own education about life in rural Māori communities. It was clear that the natural environment and education were part of the same thing. “The Māori view of the environment is anthropomorphic, but the natural world does not exist for humans, or for human purposes alone or even give those priority. It exists in its own being. The world is a person. It follows, therefore, that environmental respect is part of rangatiratanga, the respect system...You should respect the natural world as you would respect yourself, or your parents, or your elders and betters, or most of all your ancestral parents”.
He asked lots of questions, having quickly discovered that rural Māori life was vastly different to what he had experienced in the city. “The impact Ngāti Porou made on my perceptions of the Māori world was profound. Here was culture with authenticity and depth, lived out in day-to-day activities”. He had identified that he could not take on a culture not his own, but he needed to understand more about his own culture. After only a few years, he returned to university to study psychology and anthropology with Professor Ernest Beaglehole. Thus began his lifetime of research, teaching, university influencing and innovating. While there he met and married Jane in 1956. Jane and James Ritchie became famous as advocates for children and their right to good parenting. They believed that parents should not be allowed, under law, to physically discipline their children. In their book Spare the rod (1981) and others they advocated positive affirmation for good behaviour, and time out and discussions for bad behaviour as better approaches.
It is, perhaps, not surprising that a pair of psychologists would write about children and parenting. But it was, and is, surprising that a Pākehā psychologist would be a negotiator and representative of the Waikato Tainui people in their Treaty claim. James Ritchie not only took part in negotiations but was the principal media spokesperson for the iwi. When challenged on this by then Prime Minister Jim Bolger in a Morning Report interview his response was blunt: ‘ask Tainui if I am speaking for them’.
The first Māori King, Taawhiao, had predicted support would come from outside the tribes that supported him: "Teeraa anoo ooku nei hoa kei ngaa toopito o te ao, ko ngaa humeka, ko ngaa kaamura, ko ngaa parakimete, ko ngaa pekarohi." (My friends hail from the four corners of the world, they are the shoemakers, the carpenters, the blacksmiths, and the bakers).
Robert Te Kotahi Mahuta of Tainui referenced this saying in the Introduction to James Ritchie’s book Being Bicultural: ‘He has become like a shoemaker, a carpenter, a blacksmith to us’.
For his part, James Ritchie said of his involvement with Tainui: “I have had to learn to stand up to forthright, direct criticism and not to take offence; to enter into the emotional life of the tribe, not merely its policy and strategy discussions; to stay behind when the visitors have left and the real purposes emerge. Tainui has become for me a model of a modern tribe at work…[My]last giant stride into Tainui completed a long apprenticeship…I could see now the realities of tribal life: that it was not circumscribed by time and place, that culture was an ongoing, complex and varied matter, not just a straight line”.
It’s a long way from Medway Street.