Belonging? Hefting?

For months now I have been working diligently at writing about an Archaeology of Belonging. I finished an early draft of my Belonging chapter for my PHD finally, based on earlier even rougher drafts from a the years as I have developed. I think I have finally sorted what I mean whey I say  that Belonging is a way of not only forming attachments to landscapes but translating those attachments into identity. My four themes on this consists of identity, emotional ties, instrumental ties, and performativity. I will not give away too much here as I really should write it all down for a journal article (finally?).

Here is the interesting part, as I was preparing to give a lecture in a Modern Archaeology course I came across Hefting.

Ollie Douglas of the Museum of English Rural Life blog wrote back in 2012 about this idea of hefting. He describes hefting as "process of intensively herding flocks of upland sheep until they become accustomed to a particular grazing area. Once hefted in this way, such groups retain a kind of homing instinct that lasts across generations."

Continuing his ideas he proposes people can form hefting relationships with landscapes as well. His ideas sound a lot like Belonging. It was a few years back so I will have to find if I can get in touch.

Busy, Busy, Busy

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of preparation: of working on Harris Ranch, both compiling the site record together and creating maps for the documents at well. So far the entire document, without reference is over 8 thousand words. I am really hoping that it will not all languish in an appendix in my final thesis.

Today also marks the last day of eight straight days of teaching, although not all of it academic. The experience has given me new perspective into the future life I wish to live. A time to be reflective if you like, something highly encouraged from the start of my doctoral work.

The best part strangely was teaching a small group of Masters Students my theoretical approach. One person in the group was strongly against my ideas, and was not afraid to observe in his opinion were the short fallings. I disagreed with most of what he said, but I could at least understand from where his own theoretical background was founded. My dad used to say, usually after he had again beaten me soundly, "You learn nothing when you win at chess, but always something when you lose."

For this one moment it was nice to have a bit of opposition to my ideas. Not that one would like that all the time, but when you are preparing for the next big conference or paper, a think tank was invigorating.