Local legend and recent Queen’s Service Medal recipient Ann Somerville’s family often joke her epitaph should one day read, “She didn’t muck around”. And it would be a fitting tribute for the now 82-year-old who helped run Rotorua Museum for 20 years.
She’s steadfastly humble about her contribution and was shocked to learn of the award, so much so, she initially believed it was a scam. But Ann says she always knew accepting the job as Rotorua Museum’s Public Programmes Manager in 1990 would be life-changing.
“I was given an opportunity and I just had to grab the ball and run with it. I knew this was my chance,” recalls Ann, who at the time was 50 and a solo mother-of-four working five jobs to make ends meet.
“I had no formal qualifications but I was lucky enough to get this job. It was a lifesaver that opened up a whole new world for my family and financially it made such a difference.”
Ann initially faced some questions about her selection for the job, but it only fuelled her to prove how capable she was.
“I remember someone asking, ‘You? You?’ and I just thought, ‘I’ll show them!'”
And over two decades, Ann proved herself time and again, helping transform the small, local museum into a national treasure with progressive exhibits that garnered plenty of attention.
One highlight was the exhibition Daughters of the Land in 1993, which explored how rural women lived from the 1880s, and is particularly close to Ann’s heart as it feels like a slice of her own personal post-war history and King Country back-blocks upbringing.
Ann at the Rotorua Museum in 1990.
Then there was a moving tribute to the 28th Māori Battalion in 2000 – the sole remaining soldier Sir Robert Gillies goes to church with Ann at St Faith’s Anglican Church at Ōhinemutu – and the hugely popular Elvis in Geyserland in 1994.
“With Elvis in Geyserland, we told the story of people who had been affected by Elvis and the impact of American culture on people’s lives, which is a huge social history topic,” she says. “The media just loved it. I had people ringing six months after it had finished asking if there was anything else about Elvis.
“I absolutely enjoyed it all. Dealing with people, and telling their stories in their own language and voice, was at the root of everything we did.”
Ann is also particularly proud of the docent programme (the initial title for volunteer guides) she founded, where, over 12 years, she trained 200 personel.
“For me, it’s about being a champion or a kaitiaki [guardian] of history and having a lot of people learn about their history, Māori and Pākehā – then share it with visitors – is part of my legacy,” enthuses Ann.
Since retiring from the museum in 2013, she’s been helping her beloved church, where she is the secretary of the management committee.
“I’ve been able to use my gifts with tourists and tell people’s stories, and write booklets and tidy up archives, and that has made me very happy. It’s just a lovely place to be and share with people.”
Speaking to Ann, it’s easy to understand how she effected so much change in her tenure. She’s passionate and a captivating storyteller, eager to share the many experiences she’s had.
And it seems it’s in the blood. Ann’s late great- grandmother and inspiration Susanna Isherwood was on the first National Council of Women, which successfully petitioned for women’s right to vote in 1883.
“She’s in the photo with Kate Sheppard and has had a real impact on me,” says Ann, who was awarded the Queen’s Service Medal in June this year for her services to community and historical research. “She lost an arm as a child and didn’t have an easy life. But Susanna was very staunch and wrote articles way ahead of her time about equal pay for women. People just laughed at her but there’s something of Susanna in me.”
Yet being recognised for her own contribution to society was so unexpected, Ann initially dismissed the emails from the Honours Department as a hoax. It took a letter from the Prime Minister herself before Ann accepted it was the real deal.
Laughing, she says, “People can now say, ‘Maybe Ann, who has had her strange and slightly mixed life, is finally coming right.'”
Continuing more seriously, Ann insists the accolade should be shared.
Ann’s great-grandmother was a suffragette. “There’s something of her in me,” she says.
“It’s not just me standing here, it’s a whole lot of people standing around me. Some have died, like [former museum director] John Perry and [exhibition designer] Chris Currie, and I just thank them because we made a bit of a dream team.
“We put women’s work in a museum setting and that hadn’t really been done before,” she concludes. “I will always be proud of showcasing the stories of rural Pākehā and Māori women.”
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