Gilt by Association

 

Gilt by Association

Last week on the radio, I caught an interview with a spokesperson for the Aluminium Extruders Association.

I can’t remember what the interview was about; to coin a particularly apt phrase, it was hardly riveting. But it did get me wondering: how many aluminium extruders are there in New Zealand to warrant an association? I could, of course, write to them and ask, but I suspect both of them may be too busy extruding to reply.

In any case, there are perhaps bigger questions at play. Namely, how many obscure associations are there in New Zealand, and what does that say about us?

Let’s tackle the first question. I did a little research and found it impossible to calculate how many there are. The obstacle is how to define obscure. It’s such a subjective word, and definitions almost certainly differ.

Instead, I have taken it upon myself to list some examples that I consider obscure associations—the common element being: what on earth do they do? They are:

1.    The aforementioned, Aluminium Extruders Association.

2.    The Carnivorous Plants Society.

3.    New Zealand Freethought Association.

4.    Parrot Society of New Zealand.

5.    Happy Hens Club.

6.    New Zealand Sign and Display Association.

7.    The Insulation Association of New Zealand.

8.    The Franchise Association of New Zealand.

9.    Cooperative Business New Zealand.

10.The Angel Association New Zealand.

11.The New Zealand Association of Miniature Enthusiasts.

12.The New Zealand Strange Occurrences Society.

13.The Kiwi Coffin Club.

14.The New Zealand Paranormal Community.

15.The New Zealand Fibrous Plaster Association.

16.The Association of Wall and Ceiling Industries of New Zealand.

17.The New Zealand Ice Cream Association.

18.The New Zealand Manhole Cover Manufacturers Association.

19.The Association of Independent Traffic Cone Distributors of New Zealand.

 

So why do we do it? Why are we, as New Zealanders, such inveterate joiners of everything from those unorthodox groups listed above to more traditional ones such as camera clubs and community theatre? To answer that, I must draw on my own experience:

I am associated with what is probably the largest volunteer group in the far north of New Zealand. I think we have more than 100 volunteers in one town alone, working within one organisation, Hato Hone St John, and, in our case, one motivation-- to give something back to the community. But there is something else at play here: there is a sense of community, of fellowship, of family. There is joy in being together for some, while for others, there is a fear of not being alone; both are understandable and defensible.

What there is not, among the 100 volunteers I deal with almost daily, is ego. None of those volunteers I know do it for recognition or monetary reward. They do it because it needs to be done, and they are the ones who feel the need to do it.

Our volunteers, our joiners—they are a special breed, they are New Zealanders—gilt-edged.