The following paper addresses a lacuna in the literature relating to the concept of resilience. To date, cultural activity in relation to resilient communities has been given little attention and this paper will highlight how the lens of communityheritage activities and the ‘ bottom-up ’ role of volunteer labour can act as a catalyst for building more resilient communities in rural areas. This develops from rural areas that have strong place identities, formed through the reproduction of traditional cultural practices alongside contemporary in ﬂ uences. These identities are performed and constructed through a varied repertoire of knowledges, histories, and customs. Their on-going production can be central to community identity as they attempt to make visible their own accounts of history and place. Beyond this, communityheritage organisations have also begun to have grounded ‘ impacts ’ that move away from heritage in- terests alone, often revitalising buildings and providing community services. This will be used to high- light how such cultural heritage activity builds collective resilience. A further trend (in the UK) has been for communityheritage groups to digitise collections, due to the perceived transformational effect for community regeneration, the strengthening of community cohesion and the potential socio-economic beneﬁts. In partnership with communityheritage groups, the CURIOS (Cultural Repositories and Infor- mation Systems) project explores two case studies in rural Scotland asking how community activity, connectivity and digital archives can support interest in local heritage as well as help develop more resilient communities.
Difficulties were also faced by the CCH team, mostly stemming from challenge of meeting the demands of two very different funders, HLF and AHRC. Some of these were resolvable over the course of the programme, but others were more problematic and were symptomatic of issues encountered by many co- produced community projects. In the former category, lack of synergy between the aims and aspirations of HLF and AHRC made identifying goals, priorities and key performance indicators very difficult; late announcement of timetables, especially in year 1, compromised planning, a problem exacerbated by different timetables being followed by HLF and AHRC; while late changes to funding limits made financial planning difficult. Working under these constraints was challenging and time- consuming and made strategic planning very difficult. A more serious issue lay in engaging university researchers in CCH. Many could not see how involvement was going to be of use to them or their research career, a suspicion implicitly supported by the fact that HLF showed little interest in the research outcomes of the community projects they funded through All Our Stories. This was exacerbated by the perception that while sourcing ideas from communities is at the heart of communityheritage programmes, these ideas do not necessarily fit into existing research frameworks or advance identified research agendas, limiting its appeal for many established researchers, especially those with secured permanent university contracts. 9 Furthermore, the terms of the Research Excellence
The relatively brief collecting history of repository R-7 and the size of its total holdings commanded attention. This facility came into existence through the leadership, planning, and support of high-ranking political officials, influential community leaders, and ordinary citizens from all walks of life in a particular local African American community. An informant described this facility as an institution with overwhelming support from African American community members. There was widespread agreement throughout the community concerning the significance of the facility. For example, “community organizations and people who would be using this archive [provided input pertaining to] what they wanted to see in the library.” 1 Various social organizations, professional groups, and individuals contributed financial resources towards its development. Informant A7 implied that fostering this kind of interest and support also created a framework for soliciting collections from donors, who enthusiastically surrendered their historical materials. “A donor wall” 2 on permanent display publicly identified all contributors and solidified within the community a sense of ownership for the facility and its holdings. Also worthy of mention in relation to collection development, the archivist was a lifelong native of the community and had earned donors’ trust through social and professional affiliations prior to soliciting collections for the archives.
Adopt a Station is a community engagement scheme offered by First ScotRail, current holders of the rail franchise for all local, suburban and intercity routes within Scotland. Communities take part by adopting their local railway station. The activity has its roots in the community rail movement in England and since its launch in 2005, 200 stations (from 343) in Scotland have been adopted. Adoptions are found across the whole of the Scottish network in both rural and urban areas. Adoptions are varied and include: museums, bookshops, model railway clubs, community meeting rooms, art galleries, charity shops, toy libraries, small businesses and, most commonly, extensive gardening activity. The activities of adopters have been conceptualised as customer engagement behaviours which both augment and co-develop the station itself as well as influencing and mobilising other stakeholders to become involved in the wider value co-creation process (Jaakkola and Alexander, 2014).
educational access to digital materials representing material culture and history. According to its website, a number of institutions use their online solution - Scran-in- a-Box - to provide access to their data. The RCAHMS is also active in developing collaborative communityheritage resources through, for example, Scotland’s Rural Past (www.Scotlandsruralpast.org.uk). This initiative aims to involve communities in documenting and preserving records of ancient monuments and settlements in rural Scotland, which might otherwise not be documented. Another example in Scotland is Tobar an Dualchais / Kist o Riches (http://www.tobarandualchais.co.uk) which aims to digitise, catalogue and make available online Gaelic and Scots recordings from 1930 onwards.
This article explores the potential that community–led digital engagement with heritage holds for stimulating active citizenship through taking responsibility for shared cultural heritage and for fostering long-lasting relationships between local communityheritage groups and national museums. Through the lens of a pilot project titled Science Museum: Community-in- Residence, we discovered that — despite working with community groups that were already loyal to and enjoyed existing working ties with the Science Museum in London, U.K — this undertaking proved challenging owing to a range of structural and logistical issues even before the application of digital devices and tools had been considered. These challenges notwithstanding, the pilot found that the creation of time and space for face-to-face dialogue and interactions between the Science Museum and the participating communityheritage groups helped to establish the parameters within which digital co-curation can effectively occur. This, in turn, informed the development of a digital prototype with huge potential to enable remote, virtual connectivity to, and interactivity with, conversations about shared heritage. The ultimate goal was two-fold: (a) to help facilitate collaborative sense-making of our shared past, and (b) to aid the building of sustainable institutional and community/public working ties around emerging affinities, agendas and research questions in relation to public history and heritage.
One can notice in these songs the dichotomy between Christianity and Paganism on the one hand and the warrior self-image linked to the community image through the oscillation between first person singular and plural. Warriors and gods form an invincible Nordic army. War as an ecstatic experience is thematically expressed through the ideal of the berserker embodying hypermasculinity, perhaps the strongest motif suggesting empowerment (“Going berserk”, “Firever”). Valhalla’s fighters accompanied by Valkyries, with the distinct focus on their Heathenism, are glorified in “A Moment in Valhalla” or the individual warrior seeks to be joined with the Valfader as Einherjar (“Till valfader urgammal”) . Cosmogonical references involving Ymer the primordial giant and the sons of Bor, Odin and his brothers, in “Mimer’s Well” come together with a lament over the old times and an apocalyptic titillation articulated by the first person narrator identifying as Odin as speaking from his throne Hlidskjalf. This primordialist approach to a past in need of celebration entails however a certain millenarianism brought in which Odin’s warlords will prevail (“A Great Man’s Return”). Minor mythology is also present, like draugr, an undead creature (“Draugs harg”), which comes to symbolize the lack of meaning in the modern man’s life .
Making anyone’s contribution as much valuable as anyone else’s is a risky business on Jura. If the uptake keeps being only partial, it might look or feel like the ownership/custodianship is being taken away from some people to give it to others. It might be to an extent reasonable to see the newcomers feeling like walking on eggshells when appointed with the “right to tell” about heritage and encouraged towards getting more ownership of part of it that they feel as not belonging or pertaining to them. Jurapedia is not a tool powerful enough by itself to attempt a redistribution of the sense of ownership. What it can do is to enhance the ownership on what it is already perceived as something towards which people think to have the right to tell a priori. The risk is to reach a fragmentation of contributions, where people write only about something they feel somewhat ‘expert’, contradicting the deprofessionalising approach that was supposed to be undertaken here. The prospect of compartmentalised contributions is real and was in some way guiltily perpetuated when – following a suggestion from the community during a late stage of the engagement phase – the researcher decided to make a list of potential heritage themes and invited people to pick the ones they were the most comfortable with. This decision had an immediate follow-up with people picking themes which regarded them personally, and not based on interest, knowledge, or memory. The hope is that once people will be done with writing the articles that make them comfortable based on the fear of external interference, they will get passionate about this exercise to the point of extending their contributions outside of what they consider their sphere of ‘competence’.
"Integrative learning comes in many varieties: connecting skills and knowledge from multiple sources and experiences; applying theory to practice in various settings; utilizing diverse and even contradictory points of view; and, understanding issues and positions contextually." (Huber et al., 2005). In Hawaii, integrated learning in a charter school was used successfully with living heritage. The students were studying traditional gardening (living heritage). As part of this topic, they learned about the seasons and elements (science) measurement, volume, and distance (maths) and the impact of the garden on society (social studies) represented in figure 3. When the harvest time, they learned how to cook what they harvested and learn about the medicinal properties of some of the plants. Students experienced a range of learning modalities and drew on many different sources of knowledge for this single topic. From the level of engagement and understanding of these students, this approach was a success. Collaboration Learning helps to develop learning communities within classes and institutions (Laal & Ghodsi, 2012; Tinto, V., 1997).
experiences, which differ considerably from the recognized ‘national story’ of the war that concentrates largely on the southern Finnish actions (see Kivimäki 2012; Lehtola 2015). Shortly after the excavations, Inari municipal officials and local tourism entrepreneurs also organized a public discussion about developing wartime-related tourism in the area, and sought our participation as potential experts. This was a delightful turn of events, since from the start of our WWII studies we have tried to promote the positive use-potential of Lapland’s ‘dark heritage’ and to find ways to benefit the local community, for instance, through encouraging discussions on potential cultural tourism.
Biocultural diversity adds a new perspective on World Heritage Cultural Landscapes; one that requires a shift from accepting traditional and local management systems as not just appropriate but potentially essential to maintain globally significant heritage. Excitingly, biocultural diversity is now being recognised as a key contributor to local processes of innovation through biocultural design that can explicitly meet communities’ contemporary aspirations for sustainable development (Davidson-Hunt et al., 2012). Biocultural diversity assessment and management is potentially a creative arena for catalysing synergies between protecting natural and cultural values, and meeting the pressing development needs of local and Indigenous peoples who inhabit virtually all sites of high natural heritage value globally. We recommend further investigation of biocultural diversity assessment and Indigenous co- governance, as a key means of keeping the outstanding exceptional in World Heritage Areas for now and the future.
Unhealthy urban environments and decline are phenomena not independent of other factors and therefore requires extensive research to be understood. Some of these factors include competition from other industries or business (such as big box retail centers), decentralization, sprawl, urban mobility, the development of highways, and unorganized local governments (Ratcliffe and Flanagan, 2004; Hoyt and Gopal-Agge, 2007). Competition is most often referred to as being the main factor aiding the decline of healthy CBDs. For example, Levy (2001) recognizes that in a post-industrial 21 st century economy, consumers are posed with more purchasing-related choices than ever before and therefore will travel to where they can find the best goods, services, experiences and amenities. Often, people will travel to places where businesses are located within close proximity to each other. This is commonly referred to as ‘one stop shopping’. While healthy urban areas and central business districts have the ability to be competitive, areas in economic decline can become unhealthy. The unique character of traditional urban areas may be considered unfavourable when compared to suburban shopping due to their new and sanitized environments. Often, built heritage is quoted as being the reason for which urban areas are considered unique (Caruso and Weber, 2006). The subsequent paragraphs will outline how the inherent values of heritage within the built landscape are related to the success of BIAs.
An integrated art project, that explores notions of Home, complements the excavation project and the virtual reconstruc- tion. Carolyn Lefley, invited as Artist in Residence at Timespan during the excavation, has created new work in response to these exciting events. As an artist who uses photography in her practice Lefley is interested in the parallels of the process of excavation, with peeling back the layers of earth to reveal evidence of the past and the indexical quality of a photograph to record reality. The excavation has provided ‘images’ of the way Kildonan’s people lived. Part of Lefley’s response has been to collaborate with descendants of Caen, who have been volunteering on the dig, by photographing them within the old longhouse ruin (Figure 3). Other community activities include a photography ramble around the Gartymore part of Helmsdale, where many of the cleared were housed, and the creation of a Clearances story patchwork quilt with local teenagers. Lefley’s final output for her residency is an exhibition of photographs printed onto local stone, which tell stories of home, migration and diaspora. ‘The Diaspora Stones’ are on display in Timespan alongside excavation finds.
Mehloding is a community organization represented by the Freedom Challenge, a corporation of members from the Matatiele Communities. The Freedom Challenge runs a mountain biking trail that runs through Western Cape, Eastern Cape and Kwa- Zulu Natal Provinces. The objectives of the Freedom Challenge are to publicise mountain biking trail activities and working with communities to promote the significance of natural and cultural heritage. The Challenge further provides a Scholarship Fund, and offers it to communities where the biking trails run through. Mehloding was established in 2002 with the mandate of establishing a tourism venture in Matatiele. It runs three chalets spread across Matatiele and the Mehloding Adventure Trail. 2 The trail also leads to a few rock art sites and tourists visit them under the supervision of a guide from Mehloding. Having recognised the work that MARA has been involved in, and continues to undertake, in Matatiele, Mehloding (as a tourism enterprise) requested their assistance in compiling a proposal to the Department of Arts and Culture (DAC) to establish and finance a rock art centre for the Matatiele Communities. MARA advised against the establishment of a rock art centre because of their experiences with the challenges rock art centres face in South Africa (see Chapters Four and Five) and proposed a heritage centre instead. Having realised that the majority of the Matatiele Communities do not have a place in which their histories and heritage could be represented, Mehloding took MARA’s advice and advocated for the establishment of a heritage centre. This dissertation constitutes the first major step in establishing the heritage centre: a study of the communities’ perceptions and requirements and the identification of ways in which to address these. Mehloding has played a pivotal role in the research discussed in this thesis. The first stages of the study included meeting chiefs and other members of the community. Mehloding assisted with arranging meetings with the chiefs and gave advice on
Allan Tegg argues that Warmun Community formed not from a positive move made by east Kimberley people but as a result of a history of dispossession. He asserts that because there are no traditional owners of Turkey Creek, the commitment to Turkey Creek is not strong (Bolger 1987, 30-31; Sturmer et al. 1984; Tegg 1989). It is true that the people who first came to Warrmarn were from areas outside of Warrmarn, and there was less of a commitment to the area in the immediate vicinity of Turkey Creek. However, I have found that there is a sense of ownership over Warrmarn, in spite of the different family groups living together. Rammel Peters for example, spoke very strongly about his commitment to the community and the traditional owner Bob Nyalcas. He shared with me his fight for land rights and his journey with Paul Seaman to Perth and Melbourne for the Aboriginal Land Inquiry (Seaman 1984), which was at a time when discrimination was rife in the area. For example, at the 1977 state election a 44 gallon drum of alcohol was taken to the Turkey Creek roadhouse on election day and given out for free so that Aboriginal people didn't vote (Jones 1981, Postscript, 35). There has been, and continues to be, competition and rivalry between family groups about who the Country belongs to. Indeed, this is changing as years pass and children are born in towns and younger generations spend their entire lives living in Warrmarn, not out on Country. This is not particular to Warrmarn, it occurs across Australia. The old people who now reside at Warrmarn are the product of a history of dispossession and cultural and social upheaval. Their children and grandchildren learn about this past through words and paintings, but they have experienced a different set of circumstances. Most probably the community was formed via a combination of Aboriginal people speaking up and government attempting to offer a solution to the problems it had created in the previous decades.
While archaeological work in itself has functioned as a mnemonic device of either highlighting human activity in the area, as in Philioremos, or connecting the ancient remains of the past with modern corporeal techniques, as in the case of Sklavokambos, sporadic archaeological appearance has certainly resulted in a feeling of disempowerment and loss of control over local heritage, coupled with narratives of the decline and abandonment of the village which constitute the dominant cultural discourse. In 1954 a local purportedly discovered a suit of armor in the basement of his house, while he was digging to make a cellar. The Heraklion Archaeological Museum curator, Nicolaos Platon showed up to collect the finds, and was never heard from again by the villagers. Rumors started circulating in the village, that this was an artifact of incomparable antiquity. Descendants of the family in whose house the finds were discovered have purposefully looked in the Heraklion museum over the years, but were not able to locate it. Indeed, a brief research at the log-books of the museum turned nothing up, and the finds are probably lost somewhere in the storerooms of the museum. Platon, however, noted the discovery in a short report in 1955, wherein he describes the discovery of a thick-walled building, which he estimated to be Neolithic, and a copper dagger, which he dated to meso-Minoan times (Platon, 1955: 567). While this short reference may be of some importance to the archaeological team, it remained completely unknown to the village. The son of the person who discovered this dagger that in the course of the years became a suit of armor related this story with a prevalent sense of resignation, speaking about the
A great deal of archaeology today revolves around the realm of cultural heritage management, and this is also where many communities come into contact with archaeology. The offi cial mandate of state-sanctioned heritage management has been to identify, evaluate, and protect (where possible) archaeological and other heritage sites that may be affected by development or other activities. 1 Within offi cial and professional circles, particularly in North America and Western Europe, cultural heritage management claims to be based on a stewardship model (Society for American Archaeology, 1996; Lynott and Wylie, 2000). However, this has for the most part been a unilateral situation of ‘we know what’s best’ that privileges (intentionally or not) Western value systems at the expense of community-based or indigenous ways of relating to so-called ‘sites’, ‘artefacts’, and other manifestations of, or ways of knowing, the past. Western archaeology has generally enacted its ethic of ‘stewardship’ with the view that archaeology is the preferred means to evaluate the past and archaeologists as having the authority to do so on behalf of the public or state (see Groarke and Warrick, 2006; Wylie, 2005; Zimmerman, 2000). Another problematic is the concern that relinquishing control threatens scientifi c or academic freedom or the integrity of research, when this is actually a prerequisite of decolonization.
A legend, on the other hand is a story which is told as if it was a historical event rather than as an explanation for something or a symbolic narrative. In the context of Lenggong, a legend is a traditional tale handed down from earlier times which believed to have a historical basis. Legend may be transmitted orally, passed on person-to- person, or, in original sense and through written text. Legend is story about personality and supremacy of historical figures in Malay history. As described by Yusoff Iskandar (1986) that legends as slightly different from myth. Findings demonstrate that legendary stories of Lenggong share historical characteristics in sense they are less fantasy. In Lenggong, legends are passed down from a person to person orally. In the case of the Gua Puteri, tere are no archaeological findings at the cave but the cave is famous for its legends. Two rock formations are said to be the guardians (prince and princess) of the caves. According to particpants, local community used to visit the cave to request for wedding paraphernalia such as pots and pans; the items would magically appear the next day. Local legends in Lenggong help people to define their relationship with their natural environment. Their belief in stories of demons and spirits help them maintain a sense of awe and respect for natural environment while restraining them from destroying them.
Alexandra ION - Roșia Montană: when heritage... - 57
provides the perfect environment for applying the idea of “a praxis of archaeology that involves knowing the world, critiquing the world, and taking action in the world” (McGuire 2007: 10). After all, who would benefit from the destruction/conservation of heritage? The investor, the nation, the community? Romania’s economy is trying to develop on capitalistic principles and even though economic projects need to be done, can they happen by endangering and displacing a sense of identity and of shared values? What is the role of heritage in the sustainable development of Romania? In this light, what does sustainable development mean? At a local level, part of the community fights against being displaced (with a focus on the heritage which is most significant to them, their dead being moved, the fear of houses being abandoned and left in ruins, and of the churches in danger of being destroyed), which “is contrary to the demographic growth policy of Țara Moţilor and to the requisites of the area’s sustainable development” according to the Romanian Academy (2013: 4). At a national level, voices are opposing the project given the place’s unique situation—not of unique pieces, but of unique pieces living together, within the context that gave birth to them.