To the casual observer, community gardens may look like places where people just come to grow fruit and vegetables. Through digging beneath surface appearances, however, the research literature suggests that there is more to the creation of and participation in community gardens than that which is immediately apparent.
The overall aim of this research was to explore and interpret the meaning of community gardens in terms of the sought and experienced well-being of the individuals who participate, and their associated communities. This research was undertaken in the Christchurch/Selwyn district, in the aftermath of the Christchurch earthquakes of 2010-2011.
This research utilised the technique of photo-elicitation interviews to study the meanings attributed to community gardening, in the post-earthquake environment. Five gardens were investigated. Results show that a range of meanings, and well-being outcomes are experienced through a combination of physical, educational, aesthetic appreciation, contemplative, creative and social connections within the garden and within the overall context of nature. Significantly, within the post-earthquake environment, the community gardens can offer participants the opportunity to appreciate life and what it means for them.
When an “I thought I was going to die quake” occurs amidst four additional major earthquakes and 15,000 aftershocks during a sixteen-month period, it challenges people’s ability to cope and recover. Residents of Canterbury, New Zealand endured this extended, chaotic state in 2010/11; and continue to deal with lingering effects on their devastated central city, Christchurch. Stress and coping theory suggests that finding meaning in such situations can help people recover, and that religion and spirituality often play a role in post-disaster resilience. Despite this, there is very little research literature examining this phenomenon and even less that considers spirituality separate from religion. This research focuses on this underrepresented area by considering the personal spiritual or meaningful experiences of people in post-earthquake Canterbury. Data from sixteen in-depth, minimally directed interviews were thematically analyzed to understand each individual’s meaning construction and coping/recovery process and identify connective themes and patterns amongst their experiences. Four core elements of acceptance, clarity and choice, connection, and transcendence emerged from the thematic analysis to conceptualize a model of transcendent coping. Transcendent coping represents an additional type of coping in the transactional model of stress and coping, which serves to support the previous denoted problem-, emotion-, and meaning-focused coping approaches. Transcendent coping offers openness, empowerment, comfort and expansion not necessarily reliant upon theistic or religious beliefs and practices. Rather, this secular spiritual coping is inherent in everyday, mundane practices such as being in the moment, aligning to and acting from personal values, connecting to that and those who bring comfort, and experiencing transcendence in moments of awe and expansion. This research contributes to the growing interest in spirituality as an important facet of human nature that can support wellbeing in the face of stress.
When a tragedy occurs of local or national scale throughout the world a memorial is often built to remember the victims, and to keep the tragedy fresh in the minds of generations with the conviction that this must not be repeated. Memorials to commemorate natural disasters very to the objective of a human induced tragedy in that future catastrophic events that affect the lives and livelihood of many citizens are sure to reoccur in countries that are geographically pre-disposed to the ravages of nature. This thesis examines memorial sites as case studies in New Zealand and Japan to explore the differences in how these two countries memorialise earthquakes, and tsunamis in the case of Japan, and whether there are lessons that each could learn from each other. In so doing, it draws largely on scholarly literature written about memorials commemorating war as little is written on memorials that respond to natural disasters. Visited case sites in both countries are analysed through multiple qualitative research methods with a broad view of what constitutes a memorial when the landscape is changed by the devastation of a natural disaster. How communities prepare for future events through changes in planning legislation, large scale infrastructure, tourism and preparedness for personal safety are issues addressed from the perspective of landscape architecture through spatial commemorative places. The intentions and meanings of memorials may differ but in the case of a memorial of natural disaster there is a clear message that is common to all. To reduce the severity of the number of deaths and level of destruction, education and preparedness for future events is a key aim of memorials and museums.
The city of Christchurch, New Zealand, was until very recently a “Junior England”—a small city that still bore the strong imprint of nineteenth-century British colonization, alongside a growing interest in the underlying biophysical setting and the indigenous pre-European landscape. All of this has changed as the city has been subjected to a devastating series of earthquakes, beginning in September 2010, and still continuing, with over 12,000 aftershocks recorded. One of these aftershocks, on February 22, 2011, was very close to the city center and very shallow with disastrous consequences, including a death toll of 185. Many buildings collapsed, and many more need to be demolished for safety purposes, meaning that over 80 percent of the central city will have gone. Tied up with this is the city’s precious heritage—its buildings and parks, rivers, and trees. The threats to heritage throw debates over economics and emotion into sharp relief. A number of nostalgic positions emerge from the dust and rubble, and in one form is a reverse-amnesia—an insistence of the past in the present. Individuals can respond to nostalgia in very different ways, at one extreme become mired in it and unable to move on, and at the other, dismissive of nostalgia as a luxury in the face of more pressing crises. The range of positions on nostalgia represent the complexity of heritage debates, attachment, and identity—and the ways in which disasters amplify the ongoing discourse on approaches to conservation and the value of historic landscapes.
