Māori will no longer tolerate the removal of babies by the state
Friday, 14 June 2019
ANALYSIS: Oranga Tamariki plans to work closely with Māori and earn their trust are up in smoke.
Thousands are calling for the name Oranga Tamariki to be removed, demanding Māori take control of the care system and challenging Māori leaders to take a stand.
The state care fire and the way it has burnt Māori whānau and other families struggling with poverty has been smouldering for decades.
Since the 1970s, fuel in the form of research and links made between kids in care, criminality, abuse and mental health issues has slowly been added to the flames.
**READ MORE:
* Who cares? An investigation into state care
* 10,000 child removals orders in five years
* Babies taken by Oranga Tamariki**
State care kids started to tell their own stories publicly, sporadically. The fire was stoked as more of them found their voice. The overwhelming numbers forced churches and governments to apologise and compensate in New Zealand and around the world.
Issues of Māori kids, sometimes whole families, being separated at birth, removed by the state, placed in foster homes and institutions both historically and currently is not new.
Many people and organisations including news media, politicians, academics, lawyers, Children's Commissioners and community leaders have raised concerns about Oranga Tamariki and its predecessors for years.
This week we witnessed a powerless young Māori mum with her newborn baby, her partner and their whānau, midwives standing up against the full power of the state.
The Newsroom documentary, filmed at the hospital largely by the stoic but desperate family and midwives, has blown up the Māori community.
Today, the state care fire is an inferno.
Māori are angry, very, very angry. Neutrality and understanding has gone. In the past, there was reasoning some families needed help, children protected. But not now. The balance has shifted.
Just as those in the film were mainly Māori on both sides, so is the clear divide in the community.
Māori are pitting themselves against each other, jostling to take a position in support of Oranga Tamariki or against them. Few are now standing with the state.
Thousands have signed the 'Hands Off Our Tamariki' petition, social media is awash with personal stories and comments of angst. The long overdue Royal Commission inquiry into historical abuse in state care and faith-based institutions is underway.
Minister Tracey Martin became emotional at times this week in front of the Social Services and Community Select Committee alongside Oranga Tamariki chief executive Gráinne Moss. They were there to discuss how $1.1b would make a difference to the service undergoing massive structural changes.
'What Māori say … is: 'Give us our children back.' What the children say is: 'We want to be with our families, but we want to be safe.' Oranga Tamariki was created for a single purpose, and that was to keep children safe,' Martin said.
Oranga Tamariki promised to do better, when it announced a five year plan to rebrand and overhaul the system in 2017. The state and various iwi signed memorandums of understanding to deal with Māori kids and families within their rohe (area) or who affiliated to their tribes.
Yet since those changes started being implemented, a Stuff investigation last year revealed more Māori babies were being taken by the state.
The state care system, a colonial construct that has always put too much focus on taking kids away from poorer, usually Māori, families needs a radical shift. The state is promising it will start to deliver its next phase of changes in July.
New Zealand has a serious family violence issue resulting in abuse and deaths. Justifiably, Oranga Tamariki has a strong position by insisting on protecting children.
But there is a fine balancing act between safety and over-reaction. It's a fraught exercise for all involved.
The experience of children in care is another story in itself. The controversial Confidential Listening and Assistance Service and class actions taken by state wards shone cold light on those experiences.
The Royal Commission will hopefully take those stories a step further, perhaps deliver a long awaited formal government apology, and remedy some of the hurt and pain.
The state in the past and now continues to believe they've got the child protection formula right by using court orders to remove babies, and keep them in the system.
Families who work hard to get their kids back struggle to meet strict rules, fight the system on their own and usually just give up because it's so hard. Few are supported to change permanently, to deal with a range of issues related to poverty.
Dame Tariana Turia, the architect of Whānau Ora maintains the only way to fix the system is to empower families, give them the tools, confidence and courage to make their own positive changes. Whānau Ora Minister Peeni Henare has admitted a disconnect between his department and the rest of government.
Ngā Maia Director Jean Te Huia and many others believe Māori families can look after their own children if they're given the help they need.
The Māori community has put Māori leaders, politicians and the government on notice they will no longer tolerate babies being removed by the state.
But if the fire of public opinion is not quelled by strong political leadership it will consume Oranga Tamariki, as more stories are told and the scrutiny intensifies.
Social workers who need to be protected from the public vitriol, many of whom are Māori and trying to help their communities and whānau, will feel the heat and leave. Foster parents, often not supported fully by the state, will also rethink their positions.
Worst of all, children in care who need protection, whānau who need help to change won't get it because the state will be too busy putting out the hotspots.