The joy of belonging in community

Partaking in a spirited ceremony of belonging to a chosen land makes the world seem a little less disconnected, if only for a fleeting moment

Wellington's Rainbow Crossing on Cuba Street. Image: WellingtonNZ, Celeste Fontein

Earlier this week, I went along to support a dear friend as she was granted her New Zealand citizenship at a ceremony organised by the Wellington City Council.

It was my first time attending a citizenship ceremony, and some part of me was expecting a fairly formal, officious event of sorts.

I was pleasantly surprised that it was anything but.

The atmosphere at the Soundings Theatre at Te Papa, Wellington’s national museum, where the ceremony was held, somewhat resembled a jolly Kiwi pub on a Friday evening.

For a short hour or two, Wellington seemed to have forgotten its dreary economic woes of the last couple of years, and showed up in all its diversity to cheer and welcome its newly-minted citizens with open arms.

Seeing the gathered crowd in that theatre reminded me of something I take for granted about this city I call my current home.

Wellington lets you be. It doesn’t matter if your way of life doesn’t fit the mainstream or that you don’t look or live like the majority of the city does. Sure, the city isn’t perfect, no place is. But it makes room for everyone.

Te Whanganui a Tara Wellington at sunrise. Image by Sulthan Auliya on Unsplash

The theatre is packed with a richly varied bunch of people with roots in dozens of places around the world and with every continent represented.

There are families with mums and dads, families with two mums or two dads, single people and parents, identifying on a wide spectrum of sexual and gender identities. There are believers and non-believers, your faith or the lack of it doesn’t matter.

Everyone is welcome. Everyone gets to belong anew to this place they now call home.

The ceremony isn’t overly formal but takes care to include and accommodate the diverse sets of beliefs and ways of life of everyone gathered in the room, new and old Kiwis included.

The evening kicks off with representatives of Taranaki Whānui, the local iwi (indigenous tribe) of the Wellington Region, fittingly welcoming everyone into this new chapter in their lives.

New citizens either choose to declare their allegiance to the country through an oath (which is a religious statement) or opt for a non-religious affirmation if they want to leave god out of it. The oath or affirmation can be taken in English or te reo Māori, the language of New Zealand’s indigenous Māori people.

The city council staffer who calls out each person’s name as they walk up to receive their citizenship from the city’s mayor has painstakingly prepared to pronounce each person’s name the best she can.

The vibe is chill as. People are encouraged to chat amongst themselves as certificates are handed out. You do you. The underlined expectation is that this is your day as a new citizen and you choose to celebrate it any way you want. Since New Zealand allows its people to hold multiple citizenships, you are actively encouraged to acknowledge multiple cultural identities that may be part of your heritage (if you wish).

“Feel free to have fun with your photo! We encourage hugs, peace signs, heart symbols, and celebration,” reads a slide on the screen.

Whoops of cheer erupt as people start lining up to receive their certificates. A little girl walks up with her extended family and strikes a power pose with her arms flexed to a hall erupting in applause.

A man sitting next to me (who I call ‘Hype Man from Rotorua’) is there to support his English partner receiving her Kiwi citizenship. Hype Man from Rotorua is so overcome with joy at watching people officially belong to their chosen home that he makes it his job to hype up EVERY single person and family group walking up to receive their citizenship.

His infectious enthusiasm rubs off on quite a few of us. Pretty soon, Hype Man has an entire row or two of people joining him in rooting and hooting for complete strangers (but are we strangers, really?).

“Feels so good celebrating everyone like this, eh?!” he says to me. It sure does, Hype Man, it sure does.

Hype Man’s partner happens to be the last person to receive her citizenship that day. As soon as he accompanies her on stage, the theatre bursts into the loudest whoops and claps we have heard in a while.

Suddenly, we are all Hype Man. Or we all need to be.

Hype Man teaches us to brim with unbridled joy in celebrating small and big wins of everyone around us. As and when we can. As much as we can.

We need it now more than ever.