A city in transition: Christchurch, 2013
What follows is an article I wrote as part of my Winston Churchill Fellowship in 2013. Entitled ‘Social Entrepreneurship: learning from the collective traditions of the South Pacific’, my project sought to explore some of the nuts and bolts of socially entrepreneurial practice — with a focus on teams, networks, systems and structures. The full report can be found here. Returning to Christchurch for the Social Enterprise World Forum, I republish the first of the six articles I wrote here — a reflection on a city in transition.
Christchurch. For so long famous as a green, peaceful, liveable city. Leafy streets, Botanic Gardens and punting on the River Avon. Now? Mostly famous for its earthquakes. We see earthquakes on the news and we think of shudders and shakes, of homes collapsing around us, of cracks in the ground and immediate peril. Here in post-quake Christchurch I’ve learned that’s only one terrifying chapter in a much longer story.
Everything changed for Christchurch in September 2010 when the first big quake hit. Though no one was killed, buildings and confidence were shaken hard. New Zealand is used to seismic activity but mostly on the North Island where bubbling hot pools and smouldering volcanoes draw in hordes of curious tourists. Not here amongst the tidy suburbs of everyday life. Five months later, another big quake — and this time 185 people lost their lives. If people and buildings were shaken before, this time they were shaken to their core.
A city is a very different place when there is demolition and chaos everywhere and the landmarks you take for granted are no more. Here in the central city around 80% of the buildings are gone — including many of those that defined the city as one of New Zealand’s oldest. It’s deeply disorientating. Like the set for a film taking place in a post-apocalyptic future. Apart from the rumble of diggers and demolition it’s deserted and quiet. Shops are closed, buildings are empty. Traffic lights blink through their cycles with few people around to see.
Visually, it’s arresting. But talking to those who live here I am even more struck by how deeply these quakes have rocked people on the inside. The enormous impact on your mental health when firm ground beneath your feet is no longer something you can rely on. What it feels like when friends and colleagues leave the city en masse; companies, schools and services are forced out of unsafe buildings. The impact of continuing aftershocks; the rumbles and shakes that are a constant reminder of what happened before, and what might happen again.
It’s easy to see only all this devastation. When you know what’s been lost, it’s hard not to yearn for it to be there again. But in seeking out social entrepreneurs and social enterprise in this broken city, I’ve been finding people who see things differently. People who are working tirelessly to create a ‘new normal’. Amongst the demolition, the empty lots and a population unsteady on its feet there are some incredible beacons of hope and possibility.
Leading the charge in re-enlivening the cityscape — and helping people fall in love with their city again — are groups like Gap Filler. They bring temporary, creative, people-centred projects to the many vacant sites in the city. Seeing the suddenly empty city as ‘a vast canvas for urban experimentation’ they encourage and support community groups, artists, architects, landowners, librarians, designers, students, engineers, dancers and others to bring ideas and joy into the empty spaces. To experiment playfully, and in doing so, help citizens and tourists alike to rediscover the city — and think ahead to the future.
There’s a temporary crazy golf course, each hole on a different empty lot. Local businesses lend clubs and balls, you play a round, and forget the devastation for a while. There are outdoor cycle-powered film screenings, interactive art installations and walls where graffiti is encouraged. I’ve heard tales too of the Dance-O-Mat — a ‘coin-operated’ dance floor and an open invitation to bring your own tunes and get on down. Even Prince Charles had a boogie on a recent visit. The flagship Gap Filler project is the Pallet Pavilion — a temporary and quirky music venue built of bright blue painted pallets. Built for just one summer, it was saved for a second thanks to New Zealand’s biggest ever crowd-funding effort. You’ll find it where the Crowne Plaza hotel used to be, but gradually people are forgetting that now. Life is coming back to the city — people are meeting, exploring and playing in places where otherwise only litter and dead leaves would be gathering. And as they do, the city is coming alive again.
Meeting and talking with the small team behind Gap Filler I see a deeply collaborative and outward looking group of people. No navel-gazing here. They are ordinary, creative people who’ve stepped up to fill a void. The ties between them are strong, but they also deeply value the web of relationships beyond the group that have enabled the bold endeavour to flourish. From security companies to lighting designers to local people, they are championing the involvement of anybody and everybody. Complex challenges call for complex responses. No one can do this alone.
They are creating a host of opportunities for everyday people — as well as organisations of all sizes — to participate in the city’s regeneration. They are casting their fellow citizens not as passive ‘beneficiaries’, but as friends and partners. They are creating an alternative to waiting resentfully for ‘the professionals’ and ‘the authorities’ to act — exposing possibilities and pathways previously unseen. They are quietly bold pioneers navigating in circumstances most of us in safe, solid Europe can barely imagine.
There are others too who have seen a landscape of opportunity in this post-disaster city. The wood waste created by the demolition of so many homes and churches in the city brought fledgling social venture Rekindle to Christchurch from Auckland. From the mountains of timber that would otherwise be going to landfill, they make gorgeous furniture, as well as other useful, beautiful, lovable objects. I meet Juliet from Rekindle and am struck by her passion for the value of simple wooden planks, weatherboards and door frames. She speaks of respecting the inherent value of the material, as well as its heritage — and of the possibility it holds for creating purposeful, transformative work in the troubled city. I know what she means when I touch the beads of a beautifully tactile necklace in their pop-up shop and wonder from whose home they might have come.
Being here in Christchurch has made me keenly aware of what Marcel Proust describes as ‘new eyes’. I am always inspired by those determined to swim against the tide, who believe that another way is possible — that’s why I love being buried in social entrepreneurship. But here I’ve seen it on a whole new scale. The challenges this city is facing are immense — and it is everyday people who are leading the way. Ventures like Gap Filler and Rekindle are just two of the many highly visible and vibrant examples of people-powered change. They are beacons of hope, energy and optimism amongst the broken places and broken spirits. While the cogs of power grind slowly along, they are gently holding and healing the wounded city. They are opening up new ways forward.
I am struck too by the mentality of abundance. The sharp focus on who and what remains — not on who and what is gone. Perhaps it’s the earthquakes that do it. Make you more aware of your surroundings. I’ve felt a few quakes and they sharpen your instincts. A solid table is a shelter, a bulging bookshelf a threat. When everything starts shaking, you reach for those around you. It’s scary to be alone. There’s something important in this for anyone constructing something new and bold. About being keenly aware of what surrounds us. About seeing opportunity in the simplest things. About valuing the relationships and networks that feed and nourish thriving ventures. About knowing that alone is a scary place to be. In Christchurch I’ve found a fighting city, full of inspiration, grit and hope. In this it embodies the spirit of social entrepreneurship.
More details about the Social Enterprise World Forum can be found here #sewf2017
