Elizabeth McLeay is a New Zealand political scientist and, since 2019, Emeritus Professor at Te Herenga Waka/Victoria University of Wellington. Her recent research has focused on the politics of prisoners’ voting rights. The text below was kindly contributed by Elizabeth as part of the Rhodes Trust’s project exploring the lives of Rhodes Visiting Fellows and the impact of the Fellowship.
Elizabeth McLeay
Rhodes Visiting Fellow & Lady Margaret Hall 1976
Elizabeth McLeay in 1974.
Recent photograph of Elizabeth McLeay.
On childhood and early academic career
I was born in 1943, the eldest daughter of Roderick (Rod) McLeay and Mary (Molly) McLeay (née Treneman) and was brought up in Lower Hutt, New Zealand. I was educated in state schools, attending Wellington Girls’ College between 1957 and 1960. Rather than enrolling for the usual fifth year of secondary school I began a BA in History and English at Victoria University of Wellington. As part of the degree I took one unit (out of the required nine) in Political Science. Excluding one second cousin, nobody in our family had been to university. I had my parents’ full support to do so, but my expectations of what I should do with my life were largely developed, shall we say, as I went along.
At the end of my first year at VUW I chose to become a teacher and this provided me with a bursary for my second and third years and also covered my living expenses when I studied for the Postgraduate Diploma in Teaching in Auckland in 1964. I taught at a secondary school for one year (leaving for personal reasons), an intermediate school for most of a year, sold dresses, and then successfully applied for a position as research assistant in the Department of Political Studies, Auckland University. While in that position I returned to study part-time, this time in Politics. I completed the course work for the first year of the Master’s degree in 1970, converted my master’s thesis to a doctoral dissertation and, before becoming a tenured lecturer, was a junior lecturer for three years.
Like many other women of my generation, my professional life was the fruit of chance, encouragement by crucial mentors, the experience of developing social and political consciousness during the early stages of the second feminist wave, and my own determination.
The following account draws on anecdotes from my memoir (written for family and friends), my letters home, my curriculum vitae, and my recollections of life in Oxford.
The Interview, LMH, May 1976: An Episode from my Memoir
‘Don’t walk on the grass', Janet warned me, 'Not if you want the Fellowship!’ I was about to stride across the lawn towards Lady Margaret Hall’s main building. What’s grass for, if not to walk on? I quickly pulled back to keep to the pathways. I was being shown around LMH, as I had already learned the College is generally called. Back in Aotearoa/New Zealand several months earlier I had spotted an advertisement on my department’s noticeboard. The Rhodes Trust sought applications for two-year visiting fellowships in two of the five Oxford colleges for women, LMH and St Anne’s. It was a long shot but I applied and I had been flown from Auckland for the interview. At the very least, I thought, I got a free trip to England.
With heavy teaching commitments as a full-time lecturer, community work and various writing projects, I had not finished writing my thesis although the data collection was complete. My community work included being on Auckland’s State Advances Housing Allocation Committee, an unpaid group that checked on the public servants’ allocation of public housing, and then being appointed to a directorship on the board of the new Housing Corporation of New Zealand. I also did some radio commentary. Apart from my teaching responsibilities (undergraduate and postgraduate) I had been secretary of Auckland University’s Association of Sub-Professorial Staff.
Because the Rhodes Fellowships were designed to be postdocs my hopes of being successful were not high. My colleagues, including the Head of Department (who was also my supervisor), Professor Robert Chapman,1 encouraged me to apply, however, as did Maurice, my future husband. I had met Maurice Goldsmith when he visited Auckland on a British Council Tour in 1975. He was Professor of Political Theory at the University of Exeter.2 So not only would the Oxford experience be wonderful intellectually and give me time to research and write but also there was the attraction of commuting between cities in the same country instead of around the world.
So here I was, negotiating this strange environment, a women’s college in Oxford. I hoped I was appropriately dressed. ‘Whatever you do’, I had been warned, ‘don’t wear a suit.’ Evidently LMH did not do suits. Well, that was easy. Women lecturers in the mid-1970s at Auckland University did not appear on campus in such outfits. Not that the advice made things very much simpler but, after considering the uncertainties of the English spring weather and women's college dress codes, I was wearing a leather jacket with a cloth skirt, each in a different shade of soft green, with an orange satin shirt specially made for me by my sister Noeline. I’m from a family of seamstresses although that talent had passed me by. I hoped that sober with a flourish was acceptable.
Janet Davidson, a distinguished New Zealand archaeologist, was the Rhodes fellow until the end of the 1976 academic year.3 Oddly enough, I had attended some of her lectures on New Zealand pre-history a few years before. I was fortunate to have the guidance of someone I had met at home. Janet was a wonderful guide and provided me with advice and information as we went through the library, the chapel, and the dining hall. No beautiful medieval and seventeenth century buildings for a woman’s college, unfortunately, but LMH’s main buildings squatted nicely in the courtyards. There was a good feel to the place. Janet showed me her small flat at the top of a functional, brick residential block nearby. I would inherit the flat if offered the position. Someone would change the bed-linen every week – an amazing proposition – and I would eat most of my meals in college. So much time to write and research. The monthly stipend was not large so there'd be every incentive to eat with the other Fellows.
We sauntered around the beautiful grounds that run all the way down to the river where the College has its boathouse. We were allowed to walk on the grass down where it became rougher. Beyond the trees we sat and looked at the water. Would I take my books down here if I returned at the end of the year? Back up by the main buildings, we admired the terrace outside the Senior Common Room. It was May and the paving cracks and crevices sprouted beautiful tiny flowers and creeping green plants, too lovely to walk on. This terrace, Janet told me, was maintained by the two classics Fellows. Beyond the terrace were more lawns where, during the war, the dons had grown vegetables and further beyond were clusters of tall trees.
That afternoon I endured the long formal interview with the two college Principals plus other assorted Fellows, including the Tutor in Politics, lively and friendly Gillian Peele4 whom I had already met. It was a nerve-racking business being on show. I was asked about my doctoral thesis and the planned research project on housing policy if awarded the fellowship. The external assessor from Nuffield College sat opposite me. Through the long windows behind him I could see the grounds stretched out before me beyond the flag-stoned terrace. Finally. the interrogation came to an end. That day I also fitted in a visit to St Anne’s for a more informal interview there, a pleasant meeting despite my nervousness.
My next ordeal was to survive the formal dinner in LMH that evening. First, we gathered in the Senior Common Room to drink sherry. I walked in to face a room full of women, all 'Fellows' and each one kindly endeavouring to put me and the other applicant at our ease with questions and comments in their clipped Oxford voices. I tried to remember their names. We processed into dinner and gathered around high table – literally a ‘high table’ because we were on a low platform while the students sat at tables one step down in the body of the hall. It smelt of food combined with wood-polish, that particular fragrance of institutionalised eating in a well-maintained place. The Chaplain, the only male Fellow, said grace in Latin and we all sat down. I was on the Principal's left, facing the students, with the other candidate being interviewed on her right. The Principal, Sally Chilver,5 was a stately and serene woman with a good sense of humour. She sat there like an abbotess surrounded by nuns in mufti with a couple of neophytes on either side of her. On the wall above and behind her was a picture of Lady Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII and a founder of educational institutions (for boys and men).
The first course was handed around. I was particularly careful to use the right utensils: the College was surely checking us out for our manners as well as our minds. After all, we might be ignorant colonials. (Thank goodness for having old-fashioned grandparents and table-manners-fussy parents.) I had just started eating when the woman opposite me leant forward and caught my eye. It was Jane Osborn,6 the philosophy tutor. She smiled tentatively and looked across and down at my plate.
‘This course is to make you feel at home’, she said, with a slight questioning note in her voice. For a second or two I was completely taken aback. What could she be getting at? Was this some strange philosopher's joke? She waited. It was obvious that she was not going to translate unless I failed her test completely. Then Jane’s meaning dawned on me.
‘Yes’, I exclaimed, ‘Eggs for breakfast! The twelve-hour time difference!’ We were eating Les Oeufs en Cocotte, each yellow-centred and white-surrounded shape sitting snuggly in its creamy sauce. Delighted with the success of her quip Jane returned to her meal while I talked with my other table companions.
The chaplain rose from his seat and intoned ‘Benedicto Benedicatur’. Fortunately, despite the many interruptions to my meal while I answered questions coming from all around me, I had finished my dessert and was ready to stand and leave the table. We retired to the Senior Common Room for coffee and then at last I could escape to my guestroom and get some sleep.
Late the next morning I had an appointment with the Principal. The LMH Governing Body (all the Fellows) had already met to decide on their preferred candidate. I nervously knocked at the door, sure that she would offer the position to the other candidate who, after all, had completed her PhD, unlike me. I braced myself for disappointment. Mrs Chilver smiled and said, ‘We would like to offer you the Rhodes Visiting Fellowship’. It must have been the coddled eggs that did it. Or was it the orange shirt?
I flew home to Auckland to deal with everything that had to be done before returning to the UK in late December of that year, allowing me to complete Auckland’s teaching year. Auckland University generously permitted me to take two years’ unpaid leave in order to take up the Fellowship. Before I left Auckland a temporary appointment was made to fill my position. This was Helen Clark who would subsequently become a Member of the New Zealand Parliament and was Prime Minister between 1999 and 2008.7 On a personal level, I gave up my married name of Rowley, having separated from my husband several years before, and returned to my family surname. I resigned from the Board of the Housing Corporation and left warm, sunny Auckland to fly to Exeter for Christmas and then to travel on to Oxford in early January.
Lady Margaret Hall
I made an early, unintended and unwanted impression on the members of the Senior Common Room. As I report in one of my letters home, a few days after I arrived at LMH I went out to dinner in Gillian Peele’s lodgings. Also present were LMH’s economist, Margaret Paul8 (who became a great source of support while I was in Oxford) and a local councillor who taught law at another college. Gillian’s flat was outside the College walls which meant that, given the lateness of the hour, I had to get back into the grounds through a locked gate. Neither my key nor Gillian’s would allow me access. The lock was iced. I wrote in my letter: ‘So after uselessly trying to phone the night watchman I decided to ring the bell at the lodge. Just when I was about to do this, the Deputy Principal, Dr Anne Whiteman,9 opened a window above me. I called out, she said ‘Is that Miss McLeay?’ and she then called the watchman.’ I had hardly arrived and was the topic of breakfast conversation. The lock really was frozen; it wasn’t an alcohol fuelled problem.
Of course, because I began my tenure in January I went from mid-summer in the antipodes to Oxford mid-winter. In my letter home of 14 January 1977 I wrote, ‘I am sitting at my study/bedroom window watching it trying to snow. It’s a mixture of rain and flakes but I think the latter are winning somehow.’ Yesterday it had indeed snowed. I continued: ‘An incredible place this. To begin with, nobody actually tells you anything and trying to find out how the institution runs and how I fit into the institution is like trying to squeeze blood out of a stone, or should I say, sunshine out of an English winter sky? However, everyone is very pleasant, although most are somewhat elderly.’ In a letter two weeks later I wrote: ‘I’m getting used to the way in which Oxford dons put the same emphasis on everything. No matter how unimportant or trivial a comment is, the thing to do is to exclaim it with great confidence and clarity’. I have had a life-long interest in institutions and how they function, their formal and informal rules, and along with the unfamiliar cold temperatures I was finding Lady Margaret Hall an interesting new environment. I learned about the rhythm of Oxford term life. On Monday nights we – the members of the Senior Common Room – would have formal dinner with the students and I enjoyed talking with them. On Tuesday nights during term-time we had guest nights, when dinner was more formal. Out of term, life was much quieter.
Academically, College life was quite limited in comparison with working in a university department. Although senior common room life was lively and interesting I missed the collegiality of my former department, and my colleagues. Gillian, the only other political scientist at LMH, continued to be marvellous and helpful company, but if one wanted to meet more scholars in one’s own field it was crucial to get out of College and go to seminars. Even then it was difficult to find others with whom to talk about research and writing. I made the effort, however, and during the first year I attended two sets of seminars, one at Nuffield College and the other a series on the topic of ‘Equality’ at New College. Nevertheless, I was well aware of the preciousness of my time and research and writing – a lonely but fulfilling pursuit – had to take priority.
At one seminar I had an unpleasant experience. I went to a talk given by a prestigious professor. When the speaker included a New Zealand example in the exposition, it was factually wrong. When it came to questions, I plucked up my courage and put up my hand – for the first time in an Oxford seminar. I said that I had enjoyed the paper but also pointed out the error, very politely I thought, and corrected it. The speaker looked at me and sardonically said, ‘I might have known there’d be a New Zealander in the audience.’ I was upset and outraged. At the end, I went up to the speaker and pointed out that I should not have been treated so discourteously. (I cannot remember my exact words.) This was an unhappy experience for me but it also, oddly enough, increased my confidence about taking part in Oxford academic discourse.
Over the two years of my Fellowship I made particular friends with several women at LMH. I worked on my research project on the politics of housing and completed my PhD. The contacts I made amongst Oxford academics were invaluable for the rest of my career. Jim Sharpe, a Fellow of Nuffield College,10 was particularly helpful. I attended seminars, at least one dinner, and used Nuffield’s library, all thanks to his support. Not only did a couple of Oxford dons become referees for my future job applications but also they were helpful in subsequently involving me in seminars and workshops. Furthermore, I was also fortunate in that Maurice’s academic contacts in Oxford became part of my intellectual circle. Outside my field, during May 1977 I attended seminars on women writers and feminist literary criticism conducted by Mary Jacobus, an LMH Fellow.11 I wrote (17 May 1977) that ‘I find it a nice change from politics.’ And the following year I expanded my practical knowledge of music by learning the clarinet. (I had played the piano.)
In June 1977, I attended the Rhodes dinner. ‘It was great fun, very grand, super food, different wines, and I sat next to one of the Rhodes Trustees, Lord Harcourt’ (letter, 1 July 1977). I also talked with the Rhodes Fellow (from Christchurch) at Somerville College and went to dinner there. The following year (May 1978) it was my turn to look after the candidates for the Rhodes fellowship at LMH, an enjoyable experience.
I relished the sociability of Oxford dinners. I noted in one letter that I had taken an academic friend from London to dinner at LMH and signed up for ‘special desert. We moved to another room (and sat round a table in candle-light, eating delicious sweets and fruit and passing round the port and sweet white wine in the proper Oxford way. It must go from right to left and must continue to circulate – of course in crystal decanters. The English get quite chatty after a few drinks!’ (17 May 1977).
Early on in my tenure I realised that I was at LMH during a crucial time. I wrote (16 February 1977), ‘At the moment one of the big arguments here, especially at LMH and the other four women’s colleges, is whether the women’s colleges should “go mixed”. Five men’s colleges are already integrated and several more are planning to do so. The die-hards within the College seem to think that the day LMH admits men to its doors, what is left of English civilisation will finally completely collapse!’ As I report in a later letter, however, in March 1977 LMH did vote to admit men. I was told by my College friends that the vote in favour was overwhelming. Men would be admitted in 1979 as students and tutors. I had followed the debate with keen interest, understanding the difficulty of discarding the proud history of being a women’s college in Oxford. I knew that, as a Visiting Fellow, I was eligible to attend Congregation and wanted to hear a debate on co-residence in the Colleges and the relevant University regulations. This led to a further embarrassment during my first year. I was not allowed to enter the hall because I should have worn my academic gown. It never occurred to me that it was a fancy dress occasion.
During the second academic year, Maurice, who had not had research leave since being appointed Professor in Exeter in 1969, was awarded a year’s leave on half-salary and arranged to spend it as a visitor to Nuffield College. Plainly, he could not stay with me in my allocated LMH flat. Serendipity, tolerance and kindness came to the rescue. A flat just beyond the main gate in Fyfield Road would be vacant for the new academic year. I gathered myself together and sought an appointment with Sally Chilver and explained the situation to her. ‘Mmmm. Yes, I see. I don’t see why you couldn’t rent 1 Fyfield Road.’ I beamed. ‘But I think that we had better say that the move was for space and privacy.’ Given that Maurice and were unmarried at that time, this was a generous solution. So Maurice and I shifted our few possessions into the flat. Despite its heating it was cold, drafty, with a barely adequate kitchen and a spare room that dripped with condensation. But it was mostly furnished, I could work there and Maurice could work in his room in Nuffield College. We added a bit of second-hand furniture and Maurice painted the living room.
A few weeks after we’d taken over the Fyfield Road flat, I came home to find a smirking Maurice. There was a bit of a garden in front of our flat. He had come home to find a drooping set of telephone wires in front of our windows. Mustering up his compulsory military service experience in the United States of America Army where he was in telecommunications (very boring, he said), he decided to hitch the wires back to where they belonged. So he found something to stand on, climbed up and was doing just this when along came one of the senior dons. ‘Young man’, she said, ‘Are you a burglar?’ Maurice, already in his forties, was not displeased with his description, and explained that he was just fixing up the wires. She was obviously puzzled but marched off.
Oxford, of course, is an ideal place to base oneself if one comes from the other side of the world and wants to explore the UK and Europe. During my first Easter (1977) I went to Paris. One of the older dons, delighted that I would be going to Paris for the first time, told me to take plenty of warm clothes because, she said, every time she spent Easter in Paris she had to buy a jumper. I write (Easter 1977), ‘For the first week it was fine but very cold indeed with a bitter wind that made me very glad of my [ancient, second-hand] fur coat. The day we went to the top of Notre Dame it was very nasty and while we were standing on the battlements all those feet up in the air it began to snow – a mild blizzard, really. So there we were on top of Paris in the spring with snow-flakes sprinkled upon us.’ Over the two years we also went to Italy, France and the East Coast of Canada and the USA. Closer to home, we holidayed in Cornwall and spent weekends exploring other parts of the UK. I should say that at no time was I made to feel that I should not be travelling. On the contrary, Rhodes Fellows, I felt, were expected to explore life beyond the College walls. During the first year, I also spent many weekends either in Exeter or in London to visit friends, go to exhibitions, plays and opera. Looking back now, I feel that this was fortunate because Oxford could be a lonely place at the weekends for a visiting scholar. London, especially, was a drawcard with new friends to visit, exhibitions, plays and music. But I also went to many cultural events in Oxford itself.
My Fellowship was certainly timed for an interesting period in LMH’s history. Not only was I there when the College decided to admit men into its doors but also it celebrated its centenary in May 1978. This included a memorable LMH/Merton Ball that June.
During the second year I did some teaching. In October 1977 I took on four second-year pupils, someone doing a diploma and a third-year. I was paid, and this was helpful. In the winter term 1978 I did some teaching at the private University of Buckingham.
What did I achieve academically in my two years at Lady Margaret Hall? I successfully completed my PhD, gave papers at Nuffield College, Sussex University, Coventry Polytechnic, Concordia University (Montreal), and Johns Hopkins (Baltimore). I drafted articles (submitting one which was accepted by a top journal) and wrote others which were subsequently published. Also, of course, I made new friends and developed contacts with other academics that would be of lasting importance.
The City of London Polytechnic, 1978-1989
During the second year of the Fellowship I realised that I wanted to stay in the UK, at least for the immediate future. Although I could return to my lectureship in Auckland, there was the problem of a position for Maurice. Also, as I wrote home, ‘in lots of ways I feel that I have had long enough at Auckland and it is time for me to move on’ (26 May 1978). I resigned my position in Auckland and applied for lectureships in the UK. But this was difficult. There were very few positions in my field and I felt that I was disadvantaged by having a New Zealand rather than British doctorate. On the other hand, I had the Rhodes Fellowship proudly on my CV. I missed out on being interviewed for a position in one of the best departments of politics in the country because the all-important letter arrived when I was away and by the time I read it was too late. These were not the days of email and easy phone calls. I could have stayed in Oxford and picked up teaching positions but I was unwilling to live on the fringes of academia.
In the end I accepted a position at the City of London Polytechnic (which eventually became part of London Metropolitan University). I commuted one day a week to London to teach a course there between October and Christmas 1978. My fellowship then ended and I lectured full-time at City Poly.
Half of my classes were graduate courses and those students were mostly part-time. They were a marvellously interesting group. I also had some very talented colleagues, a number of them subsequently developing distinguished academic careers. The institutional culture was different again from, of course, Oxford, but also from Auckland University . Although I enjoyed working with a group of scholars of politics, political theory and international relations, the Polytechnic administration was ambivalent as to the value of research and unduly bureaucratic in its procedures, especially as all courses had to be externally validated. I also went through a very stressful period when one graduate student (who happened to be a journalist) made many allegations about the MA courses on which he was enrolled. I happened to be Course Director for the MA in Politics and Government (1985-1988), carrying overall responsibility for the management of this degree. After hours of anxiety, many hours of lost research and teaching preparation time, and the involvement of the union, an externally appointed committee of inquiry found that we had no case to answer. I had learned a valuable lesson. All educational institutions need rules about how complaints are to be handled.
Despite my teaching and administrative responsibilities, having a child in June 1981, and commuting between London and Exeter, I continued to conduct research, become involved in seminars with academics in other tertiary institutions, attend conferences, and write and submit articles and chapters for books.
My last academic year in the UK (1988-89) was spent on leave from the City of London Polytechnic on a funded Leverhulme Research Fellowship at the Centre for Police and Criminal Justice Studies, University of Exeter, England, 1988-89 to conduct research on policing policy. My interest in the politics of public policy had expanded to include policing as well as housing.
Te Herenga Waka/Victoria University of Wellington
Late in 1989 my young son and I shifted to Wellington, New Zealand, with my husband following a few months later. I had come full circle, returning to my home city and Victoria University of Wellington. Maurice took early retirement from Exeter University and subsequently taught philosophy half-time. I accepted a lectureship (a step down from my senior lectureship in London) and eventually became a professor. Interestingly, given that much of my teaching and research had been centred on British politics and public policy while in the UK, I was recruited to help develop research and teaching on New Zealand politics. In the end, however, I remained a comparativist.
In June 2003 I returned to Oxford for the celebrations of the Rhodes Centenary. Unfortunately, those of us who were Visiting Fellows rather than Scholars were given very little information about the occasion so the events that I could attend were confined to those in Oxford.
Some of the highlights of my career at VUW were:
My postgraduate teaching: Honours students (fourth year students who had completed their BA degree with a Political Science major); and supervising my thesis students, MA and PhD.
Becoming (again) a member of the Board of Directors, Housing Corporation of New Zealand (1989-91).
My involvement with colleagues in a publicly funded and competitively awarded research grant from the Foundation for Research, Science and Technology (July 1995 – June 2002). The New Zealand Political Change Project researched the impact of electoral system change on the political system. (In 1993, in a second referendum on the issue, New Zealanders had voted to change from FPP to the Mixed Member Proportional electoral system.) This led to several awards for our research and publications.
Working with international scholars on the topic of women and politics.
Being involved with the Constitution Unit, University College, London.
Addressing two Canadian Citizens’ Assemblies (British Columbia and Ontario) on the topic of electoral reform and New Zealand’s experience. Meeting and talking with the members of these Assemblies was a rewarding experience.
Being a visiting scholar to the Australian National University, Canberra, and the University of Mannheim, Germany.
Serving as Deputy Dean of VUW’s Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences. I served on a range of VUW and Faculty boards and committees.
Visting Georgetown University, Washington DC, as Fulbright Visiting Professor of New Zealand Studies, August-December 2001. Despite being there at such a dreadful time – September 11th – I had an interesting visit teaching and presenting seminars. After that I regularly served on Fulbright New Zealand appointments and awards committees.
Being awarded Life Membership of the New Zealand Political Studies Association.
After retiring from teaching at the end of 2009, becoming a Visiting Senior Research Fellow in the Faculty of Law, VUW, where I worked with other scholars on a project funded by the Law Foundation and wrote a further monograph.
Being honoured with a surprise dinner party put on by my women colleagues and senior women students when I retired from teaching.
Being invited to speak on the topic of ‘Electoral Processes: Managing Successful Transition and Change’ at the Accountability Under Democratic Constitutions, a Wilton Park Conference with the UK Ministry of Justice, Wilton Park, UK, 2010.
Visiting Samoa in 2016 with two other scholars to contribute to presentations on parliamentary development, organised and sponsored by the Commonwealth Parliamentary Association.
The Rhodes Visiting Fellowship
My two years as a Rhodes Visiting Fellow at Lady Margaret Hall was an extraordinary experience and I remain grateful for the opportunities it offered. My confidence as a scholar developed – so crucial for a woman, especially one working in a field that until recently was male-dominated. As I have explained, I made contacts with other academics that were of lasting significance for my academic career. And LMH itself was an intellectually enriching and socially supportive community.
Above all else, however, at a time when I was overburdened with work commitments at Auckland University, the Rhodes Fellowship gave me breathing space in my busy life. For the first time since my undergraduate days at Victoria University of Wellington I had many precious hours in which to think, read, explore ideas, go to seminars, and above all, to write.
Footnotes
See: Elizabeth McLeay, ‘Robert McDonald Chapman. At: https://teara.govt.nz/eRobert MacDonald n/biographies/6c5/chapman-robert-mcdonald. Accessed 5 May 2026.
Emeritus Professor Maurice Marks Goldsmith was born In Flushing, New York, 1933 and died in Wellington in 2008. See ‘Obituary. Maurice Marks Goldsmith’, Australasian Journal of Philosophy. At: https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/00048400802551644. Accessed 5 May 2026.
See: https://www.tepapa.govt.nz/about/te-papa-press/our-authors/janet-davidson. Accessed 5 May 2026.
Emeritus Professor Gillian Peele, Oxford University and Tutorial Fellow, Lady Margaret Hall, 1975-2016. See: https://www.politics.ox.ac.uk/person/gillian-peele. Accessed 6 May 2026.
Elizabeth Leila Millicent (Sally) Chilver, 1914-2014. Mrs Chilver was Principal of Lady Margaret Hall between 1971 and 1979.
Jane M. Osborn (subsequently Day), 1940-1921. Fellow and Tutor in Philosophy, Lady Margaret Hall, 1966-2007. See: https://www.lmh.ox.ac.uk/news/tribute-jane-day-fellow-and-tutor-philosophy. Accessed 12 May 2026.
See: https://www.helenclarknz.com. Accessed 8 May 2026.
Margaret Paul, 1917-2002. Fellow and Tutor in Economics, Lady Margaret Hall, 1969-1983.
Anne Whiteman, 1918-2000. Fellow and Tutor in History, Lady Margaret Hall, 1946-1985. See https://www.history.ox.ac.uk/anne-whiteman. Accessed 12 May 2026.
Emeritus Professor Laurence James (Jim) Sharpe, 1930-2010. Fellow and Tutor of Nuffield College.
Emeritus Professor Mary Jacobus. Fellow and Tutor in English, Lady Margaret Hall, 1971-198-; Professor, Cormell University, 1980-2000; Professor, University of Cambridge, 2000-2011. See: https://www.english.cam.ac.uk/people/Mary.Jacobus. Accessed 8 May 2026.