“Don’t Worry, they’re always like that” – Responding to family violence

By Chade95

Have you ever overheard your neighbours screaming at each other in the middle of the night? If so, how did you react to it? Did you think that it was concerning and needed some form of intervention or did you think that it was annoying to be hearing their ‘private business’? Family violence in Aotearoa New Zealand continues to grow at a staggering rate, impacting the lived lives of all New Zealanders whether directly through the physical experience or indirectly through the changes of law and policy. Studies have shown that in New Zealand you are more likely to experience family violence at least once in your lifetime than not, with the likelihood of experiencing family violence increasing depending on the individual’s socio-economic status. In 2017 alone there were approximately 118,000 reports of concern made to police about family violence situations, this number making up less that 30% of the overall incidents of family violence in the country. With such high rates of family violence, there is an increase in demand for services and interventions to address the high rates of FV, leading to a staggering eight-billion-dollar expense on the economy, which still is not enough to make a significant difference in FV (NZFVC, 2017).

Since the release of the Domestic Violence Act 1995, family violence has been recognised to be instances that involve physical abuse, sexual abuse, psychological abuse, financial abuse, elder abuse and neglect, with all forms being punishable by law ( 2000). The DVA 1995 brought about a significant change, with a social shift moving community members away from the acceptance of FV to an intolerance of it within their community, however this shift was focused more primarily on visible signs of abuse. In society today, most community members take a stance of intolerance when it comes to FV, with an espoused belief that if they were to witness family violence, they would intervene whether directly or indirectly. When cases of family violence are reported to police, it is often because the abuse has increased to a significant degree where victims and observers agree that there is a need for intervention. These significant instances are most commonly associated to episodes of physical abuse, sexual abuse and neglect which further serve to make up the less that 30% of reported instances on family violence in New Zealand. This leads to the question, why is over 70% of incidents going unreported in New Zealand?  

Responding to family violence is easier said than done. As a social work student and a person with historical trauma around family violence, I have always thought myself to be someone with zero tolerance for family violence. I have seen it in my family, I have seen it in my friends, I have seen it in my workplace and have thought, I want to make a change. However, what I saw was not the start, what I saw were visible examples of abuse. I missed the signs of alienation from my family, I missed the signs of absence from my friends, I missed the signs of isolation from my colleagues, which lead me to question, ‘how could I miss these changes with the people I spend my days with?’ I realised I have a massive blind spot to family violence. My open self looks to advocate for change in family violence on a significant level, my hidden self looks to take a more ‘aggressive approach’ to ending family violence, whereas my blind spot is more indifferent. What I was unaware of was my own conceptualisations of FV, which recognised only instances of visible abuse, ignoring precursor signs such as being woken up in the night to my neighbours screaming at each other in their home. I was unaware of my own biases and perceptions that promoted FV, until I had friends visiting who overheard my neighbours fighting. “Don’t worry, they’re always like that… Just ignore it” is what I told her. I had minimised the whole experience and shamed it publicly. I, who espoused beliefs of advocating for FV, turned my back on cases in my immediate surroundings, as it was embarrassing for me to be associated to these situations. It was my unknown self that adopted beliefs that family violence is a private issue, that what happens in one’s home is nobody’s business (Levin, 2016).

Through reflection, the experience of identifying my underlying prejudices about family violence has been both shocking and educating, as it helped me to explore this ingrained thought pattern that justified family violence. By identifying my underlying thought patterns, it made me more aware to the big challenge of ending family violence in Aotearoa New Zealand, as change will need to be made on an individual and structural level, changing the way people think and respond to violence. Changing behaviours that promote violence in the home, and challenging powers that continue to promote to support the idea of family violence being a ‘private issue’.

References:

Levin, M (2016) How to Build More Self-Awareness & a Stronger Culture Using the Johari Window, Successful culture international, Retrieved from; https://www.successfulculture.com/build-more-self-awareness-stronger-culture-using-johari-window

Barwick, h., Gray, A., Macky, R. (2000), DOMESTIC VIOLENCE ACT 1995

Process Evaluation, Ministry of Jusice, Retrieved from;

https://www.justice.govt.nz/assets/Documents/Publications/domestic.pdf

New Zealand Family Violence Clearinghouse (2017), Data Summaries 2017: Snapshot, Retrieved from; https://nzfvc.org.nz/sites/nzfvc.org.nz/files/Data-summaries-snapshot-2017.pdf

Am I a “Social” worker?

By Ashley L

I am currently at the stage of studying my final year of social work at the University of Auckland. It is hard for me to believe that I will begin a new journey as a fully-fledged social worker in a few months. I have always had a passion, and I found satisfaction when my help brought positive change and appreciation. Finding joy from supporting other people to achieve their goal is my passion and the reason why I entered the social work field. In my first and second year of study in the University, I was able to gain a clear image and vision of what social workers are capable of as agents of change for society. I had huge expectations on myself to become an amazing social worker. However in my final year, I realised that a social worker cannot actually make a social change at major levels. The impact I will have in society was going to be at an individual level, not something big and country-wide such as leading the reformation of social policies.

Bartley (2018) addressed how she had a very strong passion as a practising social worker to change all the structural issues that cause all the injustices in society by saying “I had deep sense of the injustice in the world and wanted to do something about it. I prided myself on being an activist, a radical.” However, she began to see the reality of being a social worker and how it was true that there actually was no time and energy to try and address the larger structural issues. There were too many individual and personal issues that took priority in her day-to-day work amongst the high, pressuring caseloads. She also mentioned how she was disheartened and began to lose track of her own values of social justice being in the relentless working environment as a social worker.

According to literature (Ferguson, 2008; Ross, 2011), social justice espoused in social workers conflicts with the current neoliberal political climate and new managerialism by focusing on accountability and performance to implement an outcome-focused practice. This kind of practice places social workers at risk of losing their identity and values. Social justice will not be the ideal target for client management, rather the organisational goals will be pursued that focus on government agendas.

The media and public representation of social work often lack perception and understanding towards roles and boundaries they have in New Zealand (Staniforth, Fouché, and Beddoe, 2014). Social workers being perceived in a negative light by the media and public can only make many of them experience more and more difficulty in remaining vigilant to achieve social justice in their individual practices. More social workers will be pressured to ‘go with the flow’ and perform what is expected of them rather than confronting the injustices they face in society. Remaining true to our social justice values that are deeply embedded in our professional roots will become increasingly difficult as challenging things that go against the fundamentals of our practice.

Through this reflective process, I began to lack confidence. Social workers are supposed to be effective agents of change, but my passion in social work seems to dwindle and begin to deny this objective more and more. There is very little light at the end of the tunnel for me to make impactful changes due to the influence of neoliberalism and outcome-focused practice. Can only the smoldering, dying ember of passion inside me be enough reason to carry on? Learning about the failures of our current practice, and hearing that structural change is just too difficult drains my motivation to even begin my journey as a social worker. I may be being too naive or skeptical, since I am still only a student. Going back to the global definition of social work, our main principles are “social justice, human rights, collective responsibility and respect for diversities” in our engagements with people and structures to enhance well-being (International Federation of Social Workers, 2019).  My challenge would be to find a way to re-light the ember of passion inside me to regain a purpose, a reason to carry on despite the foreseeable obstacles.

References

Bartley, L. (2018, April 27). Where has my radicalism gone? [Blog post]. Retrieved from http://www.reimaginingsocialwork.nz/2018/04/where-has-my-radicalism-gone/

Ferguson, H. (2008). 1: the theory and practice of critical best practice in social work. In Best practice in social work: critical perspectives (pp. 15–37). Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire, UK: Palgrave Macmillan.

International Federation of Social Workers. (2019). Global definition of social work. Retrieved from https://www.ifsw.org/global-definition-of-social-work/

Ross, A. K. (2011). Justice in action?: social work and social justice in the 21st century: a thesis presented in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Social Work at Massey University, Manawatu, Aotearoa/New Zealand (Doctoral dissertation, Massey University). Retrieved from https://mro.massey.ac.nz/bitstream/handle/10179/3414/02_whole.pdf

Staniforth, B., Fouché, C., & Beddoe, L. (2014). Public perception of social work and social workers in Aotearoa New Zealand. Aotearoa New Zealand Social Work, 26(2/3), 48. Retrieved from https://anzswjournal.nz/anzsw/article/view/42




Child poverty, deprivation and its unseen effect on our community

By Te Rangianiwaniwa Herewini

As a social work student, I have become passionate about the reality of poverty and deprivation within my local community. As a single mother of three and grandmother of one I have experienced the effects of poverty personally. I have seen people with no food or warm clothing begging for change at local supermarkets. I travel around at night and see homeless people snuggled in doorways, outside shops wrapped in blankets.

Statistics released by the advocacy group Child Poverty Action Group (CPAG) show us the consistent increase in income poverty in New Zealand “There has been an increase in child poverty: In 1982, 14% of children lived in poverty. In 2016, 28% of children live in poverty”

Many more symptoms of poverty such as hunger, lack of hope, illness, stress and unstable housing can be seen in my community. Families are struggling to maintain a basic standard of living. Our society has the underlying colonial beliefs engrained in it to judge people by colour, nationality, ethnicity, geographical location and material wealth. This creates stereotypes that cause undue stress on these families who are doing the best they can. All these parents would like to provide the best for their child, but poverty limits many choices.

New Zealand has previously not had an official poverty line (nzccss.org.nz). However, the Child Poverty Reduction legislation is heading towards creating this and I would like to acknowledge this as progress. However, how do we not have a poverty line in New Zealand?

I seek an understanding of why our government does not aim at community solutions to this national social issue. Although I do have to acknowledge that inadequate incomes, a failing school system and homelessness are a direct result of a combination of both national and international policies that have continued to support the neo-liberal status quo causing continued income poverty and hardship. I do not expect our communities to solve these issues. However, I know my community has the ability to address some of these issues directly as we are able develop a rapport with those that are most at risk because they are our community.

Our government has made a vested financial commitment to the development of building affordable homes. It has also engaged with reviewing the social welfare system. This was previously done in 1972 (Royal Commission of Inquiry into Social Welfare) and again in 1986 (Social Policy Review). A Welfare Expert Advisory Group (WEAG) was employed by our government in 2018 to review and recommend changes in our welfare system. The product being a 205-page report and 42 recommendations. However, to date the efforts of the WEAG have largely been ignored.

 In the Manurewa community there are several initiatives that show a sense of human kindness. A woman in Clendon, Manurewa, makes sandwiches and distributes these to the local homeless and when she requested support via Facebook contributions were overwhelming and volunteers arrived to help. Another group chose to distribute hot meals to the homeless one night a week throughout winter and this was once again supported by locals. Schools have participated in the Breakfast in schools, Milk for schools, and the Lunches in schools supported by KidsCan, Fonterra and Auckland City Council. These initiatives show resilience and awareness by this community of the effects of poverty and a sustainable manner of addressing the needs. These schools have shown that they are active members in their community. These individuals have become active members of our community. They have reacted and addressed issues associated to poverty. It also illustrates that people want to be actively engaged in addressing poverty so let’s empower them, let’s support them, let’s ask them. Communities know their people and their environments. ‘Come on’ Jacinda, help us help our own – empowerment through engagement! Let’s work towards a collective strategy to the issue of poverty. Creating a collaborative plan for all creates community ownership and works towards a society that can speak to their needs and build capacity.

Me Too…A journey of survival

By Amanda, trigger warning -family violence

Please Note: My story is based on ‘my’ experience of male violence towards a female and by no means intends to take away from anyone else’s personal experience of domestic abuse.

29.04.2019

Today is the anniversary of the day I survived, so I thought I’d do a little self-reflection and check in on my wellness.  It was this day, some years back, that my now ex-husband took me by my throat, bashed my head against a wall, then held his grip until I lost consciousness.  I have since learned that sadly, this is not uncommon for those living in abusive relationships.

I don’t know why he let go, I don’t know why I am alive today…but I am…and for that I am thankful.  Looking back, I am now in a position emotionally, spiritually and mentally where I can be grateful for the lessons learnt from that fateful day.  For it provided me with the precipice for change.  It was due to this event that I realised I could not protect my children dead…so I left.  In short, I found purpose in the attack, thus giving me the strength to carry on.

And no, as many of you may have wondered, this was not the first and/or only abusive act. A decade of coercive, financial, physiological, emotional, threatening, blaming and isolating abuse came before it, with sexual abuse being his favourite. 

The behaviours and attitudes started out subtly, in fact, I would even go as far as saying he was quite charming….at first.  Then, before I knew it, he was in full-blown power and control mode…and I was in deep-seated survival mode.  Somehow, I found myself in charge of and at fault for his emotional state, where apparently, my ‘inconsiderate actions and behaviours’ left him with no choice but to react. These outbursts of violent anger were often followed by his speech about how his actions were justified, that I was at fault, and it was only because he loved me ‘too much’.

I used to wonder a lot about what it was I had done so wrong, or what I could have done better to ensure I didn’t end up in such a destructive relationship. Perhaps if I had known the “danger signs” and was able to put labels to my gut feeling associated with his abusive behaviours.  Perhaps If I had made even more of an effort to “reach out”.  Or perhaps…just perhaps, this issue was bigger than me and my internalised belief of failing to keep myself and my children safe, but rather a wider societal issue.

New Zealand DV statistics state that one in three women (35%) have reportedly experienced DV/IPV in their lifetime. This percentage, however, increases to 55% when coercive, psychological, emotional and financial abuse is taken into consideration (NZFVC, 2017).  Compounding this issue, according to the New Zealand Crime and Safety Survey (NZCASS) (2014); less than a quarter of incidents were actually reported by those experiencing IPV, thus leaving 76% of DV/IPV incidents/episodes going unreported to the NZ police in 2013 (MOJ, 2015). Furthermore, according to NZCASS; 37.2 % of those that had experienced IPV did not consider the incident a criminal offence, rather they were “…more likely to consider the incident ‘Wrong’, but not a crime” (33%), or “…Just something that happens” (30%), when compared to all offences” (NZCASS, p 127).

Much has been done in response to our domestic violence rates, and yet our women, in particular, are still suffering at the hands of their (male) partners.  From this experience, I learnt that hope is a mighty powerful thing when it is all you have left to cling to.  I believe changes to our statistics can be made. By challenging attitudes and discourse around DV and IPV.  For it is the little subtle things that inform the big things, which in turn set the stage for the continuation of those little subtle things.  So let’s be seen challenging things like sexist jokes or gender biases.  For once our society catches on, so to will our statistics.

Like many others, I have carried the pain of domestic violence privately, shrouded in shame and guilt, for too long. So today I publicly state that I am stepping away from that burden, as I now know it is not mine to carry …today I say me too.

Please Note:

….If you are in there struggling, please know that there are people out there that will hear you, that will understand what you are going through…and can take steps to ensure your safety…..

Helpline – Shine

Women’s Refuge

It’s Not OK

References

Crichton-Hill, Y. (2016). Changing landscapes: Responding to domestic violence in New Zealand. Aotearoa New Zealand Social Work, 22(4), 12 – 19. Retrieved from https://anzswjournal.nz/anzsw/article/viewFile/31/26

Family Violence Death Review Committee. (FVDRC) (2016). Fifth Annual Report: January 2014 to December 2015. Retrieved from https://www.hqsc.govt.nz/assets/FVDRC/Publications/FVDRC-5th-report-Feb-2016-2.pdf

Flaskas, C. (2007). The balance of hope and hopelessness. In Hope and Despair in Narrative and Family Therapy (pp. 38-49). Routledge. Retrieved from http://tasnimnoor.com/Portals/0/Leisure/Hope%20and%20Despair%20in%20Narrative%20and%20Family%20Therapy.pdf#page=39

Metzger, N., & Woodley, A. (2011). Report on giving, receiving and seeking help: The campaign for action on family violence. Retrieved from https://www.msd.govt.nz/documents/about-msd-and-our-work/publications-resources/research/campaign-action-violence-research/report-on-giving-receiving-and-seeking-help.pdf

Ministry of Justice (2015). 2014 New Zealand Crime and Safety Survey (NZCASS): Main findings report. Retrieved from https://www.justice.govt.nz/assets/Documents/Publications/NZCASS-201602-Main-Findings-Report-Updated.pdf

Ministry of Social Development (2019). Family Violence: It’s Not OK. Retrieved from http://areyouok.org.nz/family-violence/statistics/

New Zealand Family Violence Clearinghouse (2017). University of Auckland, June 2017. Retrieved from https://nzfvc.org.nz/sites/nzfvc.org.nz/files/Data-summaries-snapshot-2017.pd

Shine. (2015). Making homes violence free.  Retrieved from https://www.2shine.org.nz/get-help/helpline

Wilson, D., Smith, R., Tolmie, J., & de Hann, I. (2015). Becoming Better helpers: Rethinking language to move beyond simplistic responses to women experiencing intimate partner violence. Retrieved from https://openrepository.aut.ac.nz/bitstream/handle/10292/8821/Becoming%20better%20helpers.pdf?sequence=2

Rethinking language to move beyond simplistic responses to women experiencing intimate partner violence. Retrieved from https://openrepository.aut.ac.nz/bitstream/handle/10292/8821/Becoming%20better%20helpers.pdf?sequence=2

Women’s Refuge New Zealand. (2019). Domestic violence.  Retrieved from http://www.womensrefuge.co.nz/About/Our-History/

Domestic violence

A Matter of Life or Death?

By Matilda

Three out of the five years I have been at university I have lost at least one person to death. Two were grandparents. One was 83 and wanted to do everything she could to stay alive, the other was 103 and asked if there was a pill she could take to help her die. In 2005 my grandpa who had prostate cancer refused medical treatment and wanted nature to run its course. He was given 14 days to live but did not make it past 14 hours. Three different people, three different situations and three different reasons why euthanasia is a contentious and controversial issue.

Since the ‘End-of-Life Choice’ Bill was introduced in 2017 it has received 39,270 submissions, the most any bill has ever received in New Zealand history, and many of which were against the bill. It is now due for its second reading and even the MP in charge, David Seymour is not satisfied with how it stands (New Zealand Parliament, 2019). The aim of the bill is to “allow people to request assisted dying if they have a terminal illness or a grievous and irremediable medical condition (Justice Committee, 2019, p. 2).” Whilst assisted dying is defined as “the administration by a medical practitioner of a lethal dose of medication to a person to relieve his or her suffering by hastening death (Justice Committee, 2019, p. 2).”

There are several arguments for and against the legalisation of euthanasia in New Zealand. Some argue that there should be no need for euthanasia (assisted dying) if we have good palliative care and that greater access to palliative care will improve end-of-life care (Hospice New Zealand, 2017). Whilst others argue that they should be allowed to choose to die with dignity. A meme online with the words ‘if assisted suicide is a triumph for autonomy and choice, how can youth suicide be a tragedy?” did not come without backlash. Other arguments state that the end-of-life choice bill is a slippery slope, a ‘greenlight to granny abuse’, that people don’t want really want to die, they simply want their suffering to end, or that people will choose assisted dying because they feel like they’re a burden on their loved ones. Even medical professionals argue that the bill goes against the ethics of their profession.

As someone who has been exposed to death from a young age. Someone who has seen the people they love die. Someone who has wanted to die. Someone who knows people with a terminal illness and a grievous and irremediable medical condition. Someone whose father received financial gain when their grandmother passed away. I cannot say I support the bill wholeheartedly. Maybe a little. Maybe not at all. Maybe it is something that can never really be understood unless it is you who has that choice or is denied that choice.

To you, my friend
I am sorry
The world is so unkind
You don’t deserve this
I would trade places with you If I could
Take away your pain, your suffering
But instead,
I hold you
Your hand
It will be okay, I say
You cry
If you had the choice I know you’d go
Leave this earth
This planet
But you don’t

References:

Hospice New Zealand. (2019). Euthanasia – our opinion. Retrieved from http://www.hospice.org.nz/about-hospice-nz/euthanasia-our-opinion

New Zealand Legislation, Justice Committee (2019). End of Life Choice Bill Commentary. Retrieved from http://www.legislation.govt.nz/bill/member/2017/0269/latest/DLM7285905.html

New Zealand Parliament (n.d.). End of Life Choice Bill. Retrieved from https://www.parliament.nz/en/pb/bills-and-laws/bills-proposed-laws/document/BILL_74307/tab/submissionsandadvice

Euthanasia – are we well informed?

By Penzil Trigger warning, sensitive topic

Euthanasia is the choice of a person who is terminally ill to terminate their life and alleviate the suffering, it is legal in some countries and illegal in others.  In New Zealand, Euthanasia is against the law, where it is illegal to assist anyone to end their life.  However, debate and controversy has escalated with David Seymour’s, End of Life Choice Bill to Parliament, which was lodged on 08 June 2017.  The Bill is based on the Canadian model of Euthanasia laws, which includes allowing of euthanasia for persons that live with physical or psychological suffering.

The most vulnerable in our society are the ones whose voices we need to hear and for many here in New Zealand, suffered quietly and ended their own lives at the hand of suicide.  Of the world’s most developed countries, New Zealand has the highest death rate for teenagers and young people, suicide rates continue to increase , with approximately 500 death by suicide a year.  Our elderly and disabled within our communities continue to be marginalised and where the State need to acknowledge that resources for the health sector should be reflected in the needs of our most vulnerable groups as well as the professionals that support them.  It is disturbing to see the recently published statistics of euthanasia in Belgium, which reported 14,753 individuals between 2002 (when Belgium decriminalized euthanasia) and 2016, from Belgium’s Federal Commission on the Control and Evaluation of Euthanasia.  Belgium’s liberal laws around euthanasia raises global concerns where they have allowed legislation that supports euthanasia of minors, the only country in the world to do so.  There have been recent calls by Belgian mental health professionals to ban euthanasia of the mentally ill, such as those with depression or behavioural disorders that are medically termed “non-terminally ill”, conditions which are common with New Zealand’s elderly population, where they may be vulnerable to coercion.

The moral and ethical dilemmas that are associated with Euthanasia are compounded with information from various sources that affect the public, health practitioners, professionals and politicians.  The  circumstances and capacity of each individual person is one of many elements to Seymour’s proposed bill, prompted by the highly publicised case of Lecretia Seales  and her battle with brain tumour and consequential events that saw her challenge New Zealand law in court,  for her right to assisted dying.  

For many health practitioners and professionals, involvement in the process of assisted dying will undoubtedly have moral implications if legalised, e.g. doctors who hold a belief that  their duty is to prolong life, for nurses who have religious beliefs and for social workers who may struggle with their personal views over advocating and supporting individuals who choose assisted dying compromising their code of conduct and support for the service user, their family members before and after the event.  Other consequences to be considered are where family are in disagreement over the service user’s wishes, or in some instances, where the service user may not wish for family members to be aware of their choice for assisted dying, yet as social workers, we are bound by confidentiality.  There are cultural aspects, where Maori tikanga from spiritual and sacred protocols as taonga (gifts) are not to be breached.

As social workers we are presented with many challenges, our own ethical values and our attitudes that define our practice, combined with policies and legislation that guide our practice, it is our duty in all circumstances that we promote quality of life and guard the most vulnerable in our communities.  These are qualities of New Zealand that encapsulates the essence of compassion within Te Tiriti o Waitangi, to protect.

Where to get help:

• Lifeline: 0800 543 354 (available 24/7)

• Suicide Crisis Helpline: 0508 828 865 (0508 TAUTOKO) (available 24/7)

• Youth services: (06) 3555 906

• Youthline: 0800 376 633

• Kidsline: 0800 543 754 (available 24/7)

• Whatsup: 0800 942 8787 (1pm to 11pm)

• The Word

• Depression helpline: 0800 111 757 (available 24/7)

• Rainbow Youth: (09) 376 4155

• CASPER Suicide Prevention

If it is an emergency and you feel like you or someone else is at risk, call 111

Ministry of Health. (2019, January 16). Understanding suicide in New Zealand. Retrieved from https://www.health.govt.nz/our-work/mental-health-and-addictions/working-prevent-suicide/understanding-suicide-new-zealand

Vigilant social work for those who cannot speak for themselves

By Yedidyah

It is a well-known fact that New Zealand scores one of the worst rates of child abuse in the developed world. Child abuse is not only limited to physical and sexual abuse, but also includes a wide range of acts of harm that threatens children’s wellbeing such as psychological abuse, neglect, and maltreatment (Montgomery, Just-Østergaard & Jervelund, 2019). This uncomfortable reality has been alerting both the public and us, social workers. However, the shocking news released on media last month made me question whether we are being vigilant enough to provide the needed care for our children.

The New Zealand Herald reported a dreadful incident of toddler’s death. Wiggins (2019) informed that a 16-month-old was noticed with a number of unexplained injuries after his visits to hospitals for a broken leg. But the medical professionals involved did not document the possibility of non-accidental injury early enough for investigation, and the toddler was found dead with further injuries after being discharged from hospital. The tragedy of this death is that a number of professionals involved had suspected the abuse but did not report or escalate it. They had the needed information and opportunities to prevent it from happening, but the lack of vigilance led to the loss of young innocent life.

However, the 2018 Oranga Tamariki Annual Report informed a decrease in the number of substantiated child abuse (Oranga Tamariki, 2018). But what’s interesting is that the overall reports of concern remained stable, which revealed a significant imbalance between the notifications and the assessments they undertook for substantiation. Keddell (2019) highlighted in her blog post on child protection that this disproportion is due to the high threshold for the investigations to take place for the categorisation of incidents. So the reduction in substantiated abuse might not mean the true reduction in child abuse. Rather, it might mean that the system is abusing and marginalising the children of unaccepted incidents, marking their life-threatening experiences insignificant.

The reality we face emphasises the professionals’ lack of attentiveness in measuring the safe environment for vulnerable children. I want to raise awareness on this very serious problem because the human service practitioners who are supposed to fight against abuse seem to be doing it themselves. If we are neglecting children’s needs for survival, aren’t we the perpetrators of child abuse?

I’m not here to criticise anyone because I’ve done the same. I was volunteering at an orphanage in Thailand, when a boy, seemingly a six-year-old or seven, has approached me. The boy gained my attention by poking my waist. I said hi and asked his name but he didn’t reply back. Instead, he sat down and wrote something on the muddy ground, and looked back at me. I couldn’t understand because it was in Thai so I asked him what it is but he just quietly stared at me. Soon after, he just walked away, still without a word spoken. Later on, I found out from a youth worker there that the boy was sexually abused at a young age and as the impact of the trauma he lost how to speak: aphasia.

The boy could not speak. But he still approached me first, asked for my attention, and tried to tell me something in his own way of communication. But my insensibility failed his attempt.

What breaks my heart the most is that the toddler in the news article and the boy I met in Thailand were unable to speak for themselves. A caregiver who took a maltreated 20-month-old baby in said that “As she was a baby during this time, she can’t tell us about her experience… defenceless and unable to protect herself from her parents’ inadequate care” (Graham, 12 May 2019). Aren’t children the most vulnerable beings of this hierarchical society governed by power, especially because they’re unable to defend themselves? Social workers must not trespass the small signs and be more conscious, alerted, vigilant, and strengthen our sensibility towards the vulnerable children’s voice to enhance their wellbeing.

I want to stand up and speak out for those who are unable to speak for themselves. That is the very identity of my being as a social worker. Would you be a part?

References

Graham, B. (2019, 12 May). Carer lays bare the tragic long-term impact of vegan parents’ neglect on their baby. New Zealand Herald. Retrieved from https://www.nzherald.co.nz/world/news/article.cfm?c_id=2&objectid=12230163

Keddell, E. (2019, May 10). Hard to get into, but harder to get out of: Understanding recent trends in child protection [Blog post]. Retrieved from http://www.reimaginingsocialwork.nz/2019/05/hard-to-get-into-but-harder-to-get-out-of-understanding-recent-trends-in-child-protection/

Montgomery, E., Just-Østergaard, E., & Jervelund, S. S. (2019). Transmitting trauma: A systematic review of the risk of child abuse perpetrated by parents exposed to traumatic events. International Journal of Public Health, 64(2), 241-251.

Oranga Tamariki. (2018). Oranga Tamariki annual report 2017/2018. Wellington, New Zealand: Author. Retrieved from https://www.orangatamariki.govt.nz/assets/Uploads/Publications/Annual-Report/Oranga-Tamariki-Annual-Report-2018.pdf

Wiggins, A. (2019, 6 May). Three doctors ignored suspected abuse before toddler’s death. New Zealand Herald. Retrieved from https://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=12228313

Working amidst complexity: moving forward?

By An Aspiring Social Worker

It is an interesting time to be on placement at Oranga Tamariki (although, one could argue, when it is not?). It was with a wary sense of foreboding and an almost legendary awe that I entered the Oranga Tamariki offices for the first time. To be a student at Oranga Tamariki feels like I’m wandering around with my eyelids taped to my eyebrows and my mouth ajar.  With the constant criticisms from the media regarding the release of the number of children abused in state care and the increasing number of Māori children being uplifted from their whānau    versus the strenuous and sometimes frantic work that the social workers do on the ground, I am surprised that workers even turn up to do their mahi every day after how much is said about them.

Despite its many publicised flaws, my impression of Oranga Tamariki was that it was the ‘ultimate’ social work agency. It is the standard by which all social work agencies should operate, as our state representatives of standards of care for our tamariki and rangitahi. However, after just fifteen days spent at Oranga Tamariki, I am starting to get a glimpse into the complexity these social workers are expected to operate under. They are the fence before the cliff; they are the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff; they are both colonisation and decolonisation embodied; they are working for the Crown yet their work is made up by the damage done by the Crown; they are both tika and pono; they are damned if they do and damned if they don’t. The recent media coverage over the uplift of a Māori baby from their mother in Hawkes Bay hospital lingers in my mind and feels a bit too close to home in terms of the clients I work with, and the weight that social workers decisions have on whānau.

I wonder about the upcoming law changes to the Act, and what real impact they will have on reducing the amount of Māori tamariki coming into care; there is a lot being said both in-house as well as in the media about what affect this will have. A kaupapa Māori approach to the Family Court will be important (if done properly) for disrupting ‘the systemic undermining of Māori and their whānau.” Institutional restructure to adopt kaupapa Māori should not be a new idea. Just in April the Chief Executive Grainne Moss signed an agreement with Waikato-Tainui , a partnership aiming to keep Māori out of state care. Waikato-Tainui acknowledged the development of their own programme Mokopuna Ora, it’s success, and the need for Māori to be able to work with their own to ensure their tamariki are held within their whānau, whakapapa, and iwi.

This is an important step towards seeing real change for Māori communities. With the recent well-being budget announcement, I can’t help but wonder what it would look like if we resourced our NGO’s even half as well as we did Oranga Tamariki. To address the issue of the over-representation of Māori tamariki in state care (not to mention poverty, crime, intergenerational trauma…) surely, empowering (i.e. funding) Māori organisations and iwi should be our first port of call? Continuing to only adequately resource Oranga Tamariki the Crown ignores the importance of Māori and iwi deciding what is best for their tamariki, not to mention the long history of institutional racism and the perpetuation of intergenerational poverty the Crown is responsible for. We need to acknowledge and legitimise the important role that NGO’s play in our communities; we need to enable them to thrive alongside their whānau and iwi’s.

Of the staff I have met at Oranga Tamariki, I am consistently blown away by their passion for Māori, for bicultural practice and for the best possible outcomes for the tamariki and whānau   they work with. But their jobs are hard; they are complex; they bear the burden of working in an imperfect system and expected to produce perfect results. I don’t know what can be done for Oranga Tamariki. It is a Crown organisation that has been responsible for the stigma and colonisation of Māori. It will always bear that cross. But what we can do, and what we must do, is to resource and hold up our NGO’s to be able to continue doing their mahi for their people. Because that, is prevention.

On Monday I return to placement and we will meet, as we do every morning, to say karakia and sing waiata as a team. After this I will return to my desk and plunge back into the work that all too often is overwhelmingly complex. I cannot not do this work, and neither, it seems, can my colleagues. But it is hard work, and there are no easy answers.

References

Doyle, K. & Robson, S. (2018). ‘’Deeply disturbing’: more than 200 children abused in state care in last 6 months, reports show’. RNZ. Retrieved from: https://www.rnz.co.nz/news/national/384748/deeply-disturbing-more-than-200-children-abused-in-state-care-in-6-months-reports-show

Dreaver, C. (2019, May 10). ‘Oranga Tamariki accused of bullying, racism over removal of baby.’ RNZ. Retrieved form: https://www.rnz.co.nz/news/te-manu-korihi/388886/oranga-tamariki-accused-of-bullying-racism-over-removal-of-baby

Morning Report. (2019, April 4). ‘Young Māori over-represented in state care and detention’. RNZ. Retrieved from: https://www.rnz.co.nz/news/te-manu-korihi/386318/young-Māori-over-represented-in-state-care-and-detention

Waikato-Tainui. (2019). ‘Waikato-Tainui sign agreement with Oranga Tamariki.’ Waitkato-Tainui. Retrieved from: https://www.waikatotainui.com/te-hookioi/waikato-tainui-sign-agreement-with-oranga-tamariki/


Williams, T., Ruru, J., Irwin-Easthope, H., Quince, K. & Gifford, H. (2019). ‘Care and protection of tamariki Māori in the family court system.’ Ngā Pae o te Māramatanga: Te Arotahi (1), 1-21. Retrieved from: http://www.maramatanga.co.nz/sites/default/files/teArotahi_19-0501%20Ruru.pdf

“What the hell is water?”: Reflective supervision as a way forward

By Social Worker To be

There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes “What the hell is water?” Foster Wallace (2005)

As a young, inexperienced social work student starting a career in the child care and protection field, this tale from Foster Wallace really resonates when I observe social work practice in Oranga Tamariki (OT). During my brief time in the organisation, I have seen many ‘fish’ working incredibly hard for the safety of Aotearoa New Zealand’s (ANZ) tamariki but, at the same time, being disconnected and unaware of the water around them, or in another words, the environment and further context surrounding their work. The only difference I would suggest from Foster Wallace’s quote is that, from my point of view, it would probably be the younger ‘fish’ coming fresh out of university explaining to the older ‘fish’ with years of experience what water is. It seems to me that the longer you have been swimming, the more difficult it becomes to see the water.

The point of this aquatic allegory is to illustrate that often, in statutory child protection, social workers seem to find themselves practicing through a disillusioned default setting that fails to look at the bigger picture. This can easily happen considering the constraints of the system in the present neoliberal context. Child care and protection social work has been challenged by welfare austerity, managerialism, auditing, and surveillance of practice, which has altered the operationalisation of services and the meeting of clients’ needs (Beddoe, 2010) .  This professional environment – dominated by risk management, organisational accountability and governmental expectation to meet standards – has tragically windswept professional social work core values such as social justice, relationship building, and critical reflection.

The opportunities for social workers to critically reflect on their practice development and decision-making while linking it to the big picture has become crucial in the present risk-averse hierarchical bureaucracy. Professional supervision is the space to do so, but unfortunately in the hectic and under-resourced climate of OT, supervision is often far from being a priority. In many occasions, when supervision finally takes place, the session is mainly driven by the supervisor’s managerial needs of the supervisee’s caseload. This is despite the recent development of the OT Professional Supervision Policy and Standards , which pushed for a commitment to improve practitioners’ skills and knowledge within supervision. In ANZ, the importance of professional supervision in social work practice is also emphasised by the Aotearoa New Zealand Association of Social Workers (ANZASW) Supervision Policy and the Social Workers Registration Board (SWRB) Code of Conduct .  

For supervision to be a place for discovery, replenishment and meet the transformative action purpose, it must be reflective, critical and involve the examination of the needs of people alongside dominant political agendas and discourses. In reflective supervision, the social worker, through a process of deconstructing and reconstructing meaning, identifies power and authority and demonstrates how it impacts upon both clients’ lives and professional practice (Fook & Gardner, 2007). Evidence shows that social work supervision that promotes critical reflection and learning is key for developing professionalism, building positive practice outcomes with clients and providing support to communities (Weld, 2012).

It is clear, then, that the ability for social workers to learn, assess and examine their work through reflective practice and develop alternative pro-active ways of working through critical reflection needs to remain central to child protection social work. For the sake of our profession, its fundamental values of social justice and social change and, especially, to ensure the best outcomes for tamariki and their whānau, we need to advocate for quality supervision to happen in the institutions we work for. Critical and reflective supervision is the alternative to the default setting of unconscious and disengaged practice. Supervision is a key tool in recognising the water all around us, as we swim through the murky and exciting sea of child protection social work.  

References

ANZASW (2015). Supervision policy. Retrieved from: https://anzasw.nz/wp-content/uploads/ANZASW-Supervision-Policy-Updated-February-2015.pdf

Beddoe, L. (2010). Surveillance or reflection: Professional supervision in “the risk society”. British Journal of Social Work, 40 (4), 1279-1296.

Fook, J. & Gardner, F. (2007). Practising critical reflection: A resource handbook. Maidenhead, UK: Open University Press.

Foster Wallace, D. (2005). This is water. Retrieved from: https://fs.blog/2012/04/david-foster-wallace-this-is-water/

Oranga Tamariki (2017). Professional supervision: Policy and standards. Retrieved from: https://practice.orangatamariki.govt.nz/assets/practice/use-professional-supervision/5139fa22bf/professional-supervision-policy-and-standards.pdf

SWRB (2018). Code of conduct. Retrieved from: https://swrb.govt.nz/for-the-public/code-of-conduct/

Weld, N. (2012). A practical guide to transformative supervision for the helping professions. London, UK: Jessica Kingsley.

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