Infectious Joy and the Power of Ritual : What I learned from the RNZ Navy
The Auckland suburb where I live is the home of the Royal New Zealand Navy. This weekend was the graduation parade of the Junior Officer Common Training course 21/01 and Basic Common Training Course 21/01.
My 8yr old daughter, having heard the band practicing this week, was desperate to see if we could watch some of the ceremony. So on Saturday morning we walked down the road to see what we could see.
The sun was shining and families were gathered around the parade ground to see their loved ones accomplish this milestone. We were on the other side of the chain link fence looking in.
The Minister for Defence, Peeni Henare, addressed the crowd in Te Reo then English. The band played. Awards were presented.
At one stage a uniformed sailor approached us. I thought he was going to ask us to move on. We were on Navy land after all. But he smiled and said we were very welcome. He gently warned my daughters that there would be some blanks fired and that they might want to cover their ears. No way, they said, we're not scared.
25 years ago (in another life) I had the privilege of attending the graduation of a then-boyfriend from Officer Training at the Royal Naval College in Dartmouth. My memory is sketchy but I recall it as a serious and solemn occasion. The Queen was there. Family and friends stood in the sun on the parade ground for what seemed like a very long time. I remember it mattered to my then-boyfriend that I wore something suitably demur and conservative (I was 21 and had spent the past 6 months pulling pints in the local pub…my wardrobe was not bursting with demur and conservative options!). There was a very formal dinner. The Royal Marine Drum Corp played outside as the sun set. Their precision was astonishing and I remember being moved. There were a great many protocols to adhere to, including a particular doorway where you had to bow reverentially on the way through. I was told I would not be permitted to leave the table to use the bathroom for the duration of the (long) dinner and speeches. I sipped my water nervously. There was a sense that these hallowed rituals had been unchanged for tens if not hundreds of years. I felt very aware of my northern accent and that there was a language and ‘way of being’ in this place that I did not understand. I spent the whole time being very careful about what I said and how I acted. I had the feeling that nearly everyone else was too.
The entire occasion was magnificent and flawless. In looking back it occurs to me now that the event was intentionally designed to instill awe and reverence for the institution it was showcasing. It did it extremely well. It was also sending a message to, and asking a question of, the loved ones gathered there… 'this is their life now…are you prepared to be a part of it? And apart from it at the same time?’. Turned out I was not. But that’s a whole other story.
Scroll forward 25 years…
After the formal awards ceremony the graduates did a PT demonstration to Mambo No.5. The line between exercise drills and dancing became blurred. The impeccably precise rifle drill was conducted to AJRs Bang! One new sailor sang a soul classic whilst the band jammed behind him. The crowd cheered. On the other side of the fence my girls and I danced. My daughters beamed when one group of graduates sang a beautiful version of We Know The Way from Moana as family members came up and placed Leis around their necks. The 200-strong Haka was jaw-dropping.
Discipline. Pride. Strength. Comradeship. Mana. It was all there in abundance. So was Joy. Oodles of it, mischievous and uplifting. And plenty of Aroha too. It was utterly, gloriously Kiwi.
Whereas 25 years ago I felt awe and was intimidated. Here I felt pride and was inspired. My girls and were on the other side of the fence but felt part of it. It’s moments like this that make me feel at truly at home here, even whilst home can sometimes feel very far away.
It also reminded me that discipline and respect and service and leadership can absolutely coexist with (and be strengthened by) delight and joy and warmth and vitality. And that when they do the buzz is contagious.
In any organisation (or society) rites and rituals say so much. They create cohesion, belonging and a sense of stability for those on the inside. They send a irrefutable message about what is valued and what is not. Who is welcome and included and who is not. It’s important that we all, leaders especially, pay attention to the rituals we live by and to what they, intentionally or unintentionally, create. What do the rituals in your organisation convey to those on the ‘inside’ and to those on the ‘outside’?
My daughters were mesmerised on Saturday morning...“mum there are so many girls in the navy, and everyone is having fun together”. Yes there are, and they are, and they have worked really really hard for that.
Congratulation to all of this weekend's graduates. You shone brightly! And you showed two young girls what work and service can look like.
Photo credit: Official photos from the RNZ Navy’s June 2021 graduation