Tracing whakapapa or ancestry is not for the faint-hearted – or the time-poor. Colleen Brown (see here) was able to validate whānau connections through the “Ngaitahu Kaumatua Alive in the 1848″ record, also known as the “Blue Book”. This dates back to 1925, when the Native Land Court established the Ngaitahu Claim Committee to identify beneficiaries after the Native Land Claims Commission ruled in favour of Ngāi Tahu grievances in relation to the 1848 Canterbury Deed of Purchase (Kemp’s Deed). The beneficiaries were defined as those descended from kaumātua who were alive in 1848 with claims related to the deed, as identified by the Native Land Court in 1825 and, later, the Ngaitahu Census Committee. In 1966, the list of beneficiaries was expanded to include any descendants of the “1848 Kaumātua”.
This record is unique to Ngāi Tahu but all iwi have a tribal register, with membership usually determined by the ability of members to whakapapa to listed hapū or marae. Ngaa Marae o Waikato-Tainui, for example, reports to over 80,000 registered tribal members able to whakapapa to one of 33 hapū and 68 marae.
Some iwi, such as Ngāi Tahu and Ngāti Raukawa, have strong whakapapa capabilities. A name or names, a time period and a rough geographical area can give whakapapa units something to work on, but others may not be resourced to help potential iwi members in their search. Particularly for those three-generation-removed Māori descendants with no knowledge of their iwi, let along their marae, “it is really hard to get first hooks”, says Hirini Tane (Ngāti Rāhiri/Ngāti Kawa).
Tane is kaiwhakahaere (general manager) of Māori Maps. Launched in 2011, it is administered by Te Potiki National Trust, which was established in 2006 to revitalise links between Māori, particularly young urban Māori, and their home communities and tribal identity. The Māori Maps website provides information about all tribal marae, including photographs, location and contact details. Although Māori Maps is not resourced to undertake in-depth whakapapa research, Tane encourages applicants to talk to older relatives and consult Māori Land Court records and Births, Death and Marriages at the Department of Internal Affairs to help narrow down the search to “at least three to five marae”.
Public libraries can also provide a first step to understanding whakapapa. The Tuakiri (identity) family research collection at Tūranga, Christchurch City Libraries’ central city branch, shares floor space with the Māori services team and the Ngā Pounamu Māori collection. Whakapapa inquiries, says central library team leader Dawn McMillan, are usually referred to the Māori services team. “[Inquiries] can be quite complicated and we don’t necessarily feel we have the expertise or that it is appropriate for us to have a lot of conversations with Māori about their whakapapa when we don’t necessarily have that as our own background.”
On the trail
Cutting through the tangled branches of any family tree requires sleuth work – combing documents, reading books, talking to older relatives, scrolling through websites. McMillan’s advice: “Start with what you know, start from yourself, your parents, your grandparents and work backwards.”
Metropolitan libraries in particular may offer free access to electoral rolls, church registers, passenger lists, cemetery records, newspaper references and indexes to births, deaths and marriages (for certificates, you need to go directly to Births, Deaths and Marriages).
Some run courses in family history; some provide access to subscription websites. Auckland Libraries, for example, offer free access to Ancestry.com, Find My Past, MyHeritage and The Genealogist. They can also direct researchers to other resources, such as the National Library, Papers Past, Archives NZ, pictorial archives, church records, and the Family History Centre hosted by the Mormon Church. There are pitfalls. Family trees on a shared website may be based on incorrect data; stories passed down may be skewed by faulty memories, acrimonious break-ups, cultural shame. Adoption details may have been hidden, relatives with criminal convictions or mental illness may have been redacted from official records. Ship passenger lists may name the whole family of paying passengers, but only the head of the family in steerage. A woman’s identity may be hidden behind her husband’s name – “Mrs John Smith” – Albert Thomas may have changed his name to Bertie.
To help researchers, some libraries offer research services, often providing a certain amount of free time before charging an hourly rate.
The NZ Society of Genealogists also helps newbies begin their ancestry journey or fill in the gaps left by other research, either through an annual subscription or a per-session rate for non-members.
Others look for answers in a test tube. DNA testing is simple enough – pay the sub, submit the required saliva sample or cheek swab, then wait for the results. According to the British Medical Journal, over 30 million people worldwide have taken a direct-to-consumer DNA test. Although stories abound of newly discovered siblings and unexpected ancestry through DNA testing, different companies have been found to give conflicting results. The lottery of gene inheritance can omit whole chunks of your family history from your genetic make-up, and the inevitable pie graph given with the results relies on debatable definitions of race, ethnicity and nationality.
Writing in The Conversation last year, University of Queensland law lecturer Andelka Phillips and Samuel Becher, professor of law at Victoria University of Wellington – Te Herenga Waka, said such tests might promote ideas of genetic determinism – “a flawed theory that suggests genes are the only reason we have certain abilities”.
But whether through a test tube, a bloodline or ragbag of stories and traditions shared with our birth or adopted families, solving genealogical blanks can add an unexpected chapter to our life story. At the risk of sounding trite, says McMillan, “some people are a little bit lost when they come to us. On finding out a little bit more about who they are and where they come from, it just seems to help them find themselves.”
Hirini Tane grew up in the shadow of Oromāhoe Marae in the Bay of Islands.
“Because I have such a grounding in my community, thinking about it not being there is unfathomable. It is a particular kind of connection that I would love others to have access to. With that comes responsibility, weight and obviously challenges. As much as there is good in filling that hole in that identity, there is fear of what comes with it – the negative stereotypes, for example, or the realisation that that community has existed in a state of resourcelessness for six generations.
“That is the reality of being a tribally connected Māori today, but the reward outweighs it all – the reward of being able to stand and feel belonging to a community is huge.”
