Waitangi Day: A Reflection on Conservation, Learning, and Responsibility in Aotearoa
When I first came to Aotearoa New Zealand, it would have been easy, as a conservation professional, to stay focused on family heritage items and European artworks.
Much of the work available to me was within European traditions of conservation; objects with histories and material languages I already understood. I could have built a full and comfortable professional life caring for those things alone, without ever being required to meaningfully engage with the bicultural foundations of this country or the significance of Te Tiriti o Waitangi beyond my obligations as a resident here.
At the time, that didn’t feel like a choice. It simply felt like how conservation work operated.
Early on when I first immigrated, I reached out to a senior conservator in Aotearoa, someone whose work I respected, and shared my excitement about learning more, particularly about conservation work with taonga. Their response was direct. They told me that what was needed was not more conservators from overseas, but the training and support of Māori conservators.
I understood the sentiment behind it. They were an authority in the field, and I accepted their words as truth. I took it to mean that there was no space for me to work alongside Māori communities, and I focused my practice on working with museums, collectors and family heritage items.
But conservation does not exist in isolation from place, people, or history.
As my work grew, so did my exposure to different kinds of responsibility. Over time, and through opportunities that arose through relationships I was building in the community, I began working alongside Māori, particularly in the care of taonga, archaeological sites, and wet organic materials. These were not just technical projects. They required relationships, trust, patience, and a willingness to listen before acting.
They also challenged many of the assumptions I had carried into practice. I was forced to think more deeply about context, authority, responsibility, and the limits of my own knowledge. I had been taught that I was the expert in my conservation training, but in these spaces, expertise looked very different.
Looking back now, it is clear that had I not taken this path, had I not invested time in learning about Māori communities, mātauranga Māori, and the bicultural foundations of Aotearoa, I would have missed out on so much. Not only in terms of professional growth, but in understanding the deeper responsibilities that come with caring for cultural materials in this place. This learning has fundamentally reshaped how I understand my role as a conservator.
For conservators entering the field today, this understanding is essential. Working in Aotearoa means working within a specific cultural, historical, and political context. It means knowing whose heritage you are caring for, recognising how histories of power and colonisation continue to shape collections, and understanding that objects are often inseparable from people and place.
Waitangi Day is an important moment to pause and reflect on this. It reminds us that our work sits within a wider story, one shaped by Te Tiriti o Waitangi, by colonisation, and by ongoing efforts to build more equitable and respectful ways of working together. Conservation is never just about stabilising objects or choosing the right treatment. It is about honouring relationships, acknowledging history, and recognising that heritage is living, held, and remembered by communities.
As a practice, and as individuals, we continue to learn. We continue to listen. And we continue to reflect on how we can do better. Waitangi Day invites us to do exactly that.
Ngā mihi o Te Rā o Waitangi.