Ram raids. Car thefts. Joy riding. Police chases. Violence.
Every day there is a new example of serious youth offending in New Zealand.
Off the back of that, it’s only natural to assume youth offending is increasing - and dramatically. But recent stats show the opposite is true - and in fact, youth offending has been decreasing year-on-year for some time.
What is increasing, is the level and frequency of offending for the top cohort of young offenders. They’re going bigger, and they’re doing more.
Their crimes are much more visible - in part a result of social media and mainstream media coverage. Just this week Police Minister Mark Mitchell revealed children as young as 9 had been involved in a recent spate “swarming aggravated robberies” at Auckland jewellery stores.
Prime Minister Christopher Luxon responded saying “I’m sick of it, the public are sick of it. Kiwis deserve to feel safe”. He promised, again, that his Government’s plan to restore law and order was moving as fast as possible - but it would take time to make a dent in the problem.
But what else can New Zealand do to address youth crime? How do we protect the community? Is there a simple “fix” to this significant social issue? Authorities here are looking at a raft of ways to respond to what they’re seeing, but is it the right path to follow and will it have any impact?
Senior journalist Anna Leask travelled to Australia - experiencing almost identical youth crime issues, on a bigger scale - speaking to top cops, judges and community workers stepping outside traditional boundaries to make a tangible difference.
This is part two of Breaking “Bad” - Can we solve New Zealand’s youth crime crisis? For part one - click here.
Young people - even the most troubled - want the same things, according to people who work with them.
Routine and structure. Consistency. Safety. Security. People they can trust and rely on. A sense of belonging. Hope.
If you look at the youths who are offending, most of them lack all of the above in their lives.
They wake up every day to the unknown, to absent parents, empty fridges, cold houses, siblings that need feeding and looking after - wondering where or even if they will sleep that night.
Their offending is often about survival.
It should not be excused or minimised; there are victims and real damage and hurt caused.
But everyone working in the youth offending space will tell you these kids - and some of the offenders we are talking about are not even 9 years old - need to be better understood, to be shown a better path rather than being judged and written off.
In Queensland, the authorities are trying something a little different to address the issue.
In February 2023 the state government invested significant funds into tackling the causes of youth crime - with $100 million of that injected into “programmes proven to make a difference”.
The Youth Co-Responder initiative - a joint venture between police and the Department of Youth Justice - was on that list.
Teams made up of cops and youth justice workers patrol the streets, connecting with young people who have already come into contact with the criminal justice system or are at risk of doing so.
Their mandate is to work towards the best outcomes for each child and teen. They are not there to arrest, chase, or lecture.
They are there to help, support and de-escalate.
In August 2023 Ipswich YCRT leader Brooke Sanders -whose background is in youth justice - and Senior Constable Simon Bernard begin a night shift together, allowing this reporter to join them.
They sit down and make a plan - which teens on bail they should doorknock, which other kids on their radar would benefit from a check-in, which hotspots they could drop in on, whether there’s anything from the previous shift they need to look into.
The first stop of the night is delivering information about accessing housing and food parcels to a teenage girl who doesn’t feel safe at home but has no idea how to get away.
She’s not home, and Sanders makes a note to check in later in the week, saying ongoing contact and not giving up essential - that no kid is too hard and every is worth trying everything for.
The next stop is Johnny’s place. It’s a sad sight. A rundown house encircled by a rusty fence. Toys, rubbish and furniture litter the yard.
His older brother is a known offender and the YCRT is pulling out all the stops to keep 11-year-old Johnny out of the criminal justice system.
Johnny’s mum comes to the door. She never invites Sanders and Bernard in, likely because her house is sparsely furnished and her fridge almost always empty.
She’s a good mum, but she’s got limited means and she’s fighting against the world to get help for Johnny.
He’s been kicked out of school again for fighting. He’s wiling away his hours with older kids who he’s trying to emulate, sneaking out at night.
He’s a diagnosed schizophrenic and has ADHD but he’s unmedicated because of a lengthy waiting list for specialist care.
It’s no surprise he flips out at school.
Johnny’s told Bernard before that he doesn’t want to be at home because there’s never any food. When he’s out with his mates there’s more chance he’ll get a feed.
As Sanders talks to his mum about what the YCRT can do to help, Johnny shows Bernard his pole tennis skills.
The cop then takes Johnny to the boot of the car where he has packs of snacks, basic food and toiletries for kids who need it. Noodles that don’t need a microwave because most don’t have one at home. Muesli bars and bottled water.
Johnny grabs a snack pack and asks for a second one for a younger sibling.
Bernard realises he might also need some body wash and deodorant so gives him another bag of essentials.
“I’m just being honest mate, you look like you haven’t washed and you stink,’ he says.
“Have you been home in the last few days? Your clothes are filthy, you’ve got marks on your legs.”
Johnny shrugs it off but asks Bernard: “What’s deodorant?”.
He’s not surprised. Deodorant is hardly a priority in this home.
“Mum can’t afford food so either he misses out or he’s out with friends who are stealing food at the shopping centre,” says Bernard.
“He’s not got the chance to just be a regular kid. It’s our job to stop and talk to them and show them that we are human and that we can actually help.”
Johnny’s just one of the kids the YCRT deals with whose “normal” is like nothing most people can imagine.
Bernard spent 10 years with London’s Metropolitan Police, but says his current role is much harder.
“(Youth crime) is all about the blame game instead of accountability,” he says.
“If I want to make a difference, I have to be the change.
“The kids have got their own fight going on but as soon as they realise I am here to help them and not to oppress them and I have time for them, that’s how the trust gets built. You show them there is support and they can reach out to us - all we can do is try. It’s a slow-turning wheel… But the kids have been reaching out to us.
Night is falling in Ipswich and we head to knock on some doors.
Teen offender Max, 14, has been bailed to his mum’s place and has a 6pm curfew. He’s facing theft and violence charges.
“He can’t read or write, and people at court are giving him paperwork he can’t understand - then he breaches bail,” explains Bernard.
He’s not there - nor is mum, tasked with being at the house during curfew hours to supervise him.
But she soon arrives at breakneck pace on a bike. She confesses she actually lives up the road and Max’s bail address is his uncle’s place.
“He came home for a feed and shower and took off again four days ago,” she says, adding that a detective had been to the house looking for him earlier, meaning he’s likely offending on bail.
No one knows for sure where Max is. He might be in Ipswich. He might be at his girlfriend’s place but they don’t know that address.
His mum says he’s welcome “home” any time but if he gets caught offending on bail - again - she wants him to be locked up.
She says she doesn’t know if it will work or not, but the current arrangement hasn’t deterred him.
Max’s two older brothers are also young offenders.
“I used to offend when I was younger and I don’t want my kids to do the same... It’s so frustrating - you want them to do the right thing,” she says.
Sanders and Bernard make a note. It’s not for them to chase Max up, arrest, or charge him. They refer his breach of curfew and bail to another team to deal with.
It’s important they are not seen as the bad guys, that the kids know there are consequences if the YCRTs catch them up to no good, but that they can still trust them to look after them instead of simply banging them up in a cell til morning. Or longer.
The next two bail checks are a bust - no one’s home at the house a 14-year-old girl is meant to be and the supervisor at a youth residence reveals a young lad who is on a 24-hour curfew hasn’t been there for “ages”.
A missing person report has been filed but no one alerted the YCR team.
Sanders said bail fails were always frustrating - but there was always a bigger picture.
“But they’re not bad kids, they make bad decisions and it lands them in not-so-great situations,” she says.
“There’s no easy fix… but it’s about persistence from us, following through is the most difficult part. So many people promise the world and then don’t follow through.
“It’s about honesty, transparency and not giving up on them. If we can’t find the kids we don’t give up - we talk to their families, we work towards finding them and finding out what has happened and why.”
Sergeant Kristen Thomas is the YCRT leader for the police side and works with Sanders.
She said from July 1 until the day of the ride-along in August, the team has engaged with 364 kids.
“Many young people are anti-police, and they may have been brought up that way so we have to work out how we break down those barriers, how we get them to reach out to police when they need help, rather than shying away,” she said.
“We are already seeing relationships building, and not only with the kids, with their families too.
“And it’s not only about keeping kids safe, it’s about teaching them there’s consequences. Some kids are just not interested in doing the right thing so we are really trying to educate them on consequences and what is going to happen.
“Our team don’t arrest, we don’t investigate, we don’t caution. This is a fantastic initiative but we have to educate the community that we are not going to fix everything overnight. There is no easy fix… we just have to support young people and their families.”
Thomas said every young person was different - and needed a different approach. There was no “one-size-fits-all” way to work with them.
“It’s really hard to change the mindset but we’re trying to help in a different way… every kid has different issues, they want the help they just don’t know where to source it.
“So many kids can easily fall through the cracks… we’re not waiting for them to get to Youth Justice before we start intervening. That’s too late.”
Sanders adds:
“It’s about making it easier, letting them know we want to help… and the earlier the better - they’re on their way to the top and it’s the little thing that pushes them over. We’ve got to get them before they get to that tipping point. It’s crucial.”
YCRTs - first hitting the streets in May 2023 - now operate in 13 areas of Queensland, and last week a further $13.5 million was invested expand into two more regions.
The same day the state government confirmed the Youth Crime Taskforce would be made permanent.
Launched in August 2023, the taskforce aimed to target serious repeat juvenile offenders and provide immediate support to local communities. The YCRTs were part of the wider operation.
Queensland Police acting Assistant Commissioner George Marchesini said the taskforce would effectively focus on a cohort of 400 serious repeat youth offenders who were “committing some really serious crime and at the worst extent resulting in death”.
Arresting our way out of this won’t work
For most of his career Marchesini has worked alongside youth, first in a child protection investigation unit and than in various roles in child safety and sexual crime.
He said his passion has always been - after protecting the community - supporting young people.
So when a youth crime task force was established in early 2023 he was a natural choice to step in as Commander.
In New Zealand, there are various teams across the 12 police districts working specifically in the youth space. But there are no large-scale taskforces like Marchesini’s, which was sparked by a horrific murder in North Brisbane.
Emma Lovell, 41, was fatally stabbed during a home invasion carried out by four teenage boys on Boxing Day 2022. Her husband was badly injured as their two teenage daughters slept nearby.
All four offenders were known to the police. Two, aged 17, were charged with murder and attempted murder.
Three days later a number of immediate changes were implemented around the way police and courts handle youth crime including:
- Increasing the maximum penalty for stealing a car from seven to 10 years
- A more severe maximum penalty of 14 years was made available for offenders committing crime at night, or where they used violence
- Amending the Youth Justice Act requiring courts to take into account previous bail history, criminal activity and track record when sentencing
- Increased penalties for criminals who have boasted about these crimes on social media
- The construction of two new youth detention centres
Marchesini’s taskforce was also born and he told the media in early 2023 he wanted “to change the story in terms of youth crime”.
He sat down for an interview for this report.
“One of the key focuses now has expanded from not just looking at our repeat offenders, but looking at the early intervention and having a focus on breaking the cycle,” he said.
“The murder.. sparked another look at our policy and we have worked very hard in that area. We’re still working very hard also, in that prevention, early intervention space as well, because they’re both equally important out there.
“And that’s not just in those school schooling years, but even that zero to two, five and six age bracket. That first 2000 days is very important and investment in intervention is important.
“We’re investing in detention centres… but the early Intervention space is where the investment really needs to be.”
Marchesini said Queensland’s youth crime mirrored the situation in New Zealand - vehicle thefts, burglaries and robberies, driving at high speed and fleeing police.
Home invasions were more frequent.
“We’re definitely seeing a higher level of violence if they’re confronted by homeowners,” said Marchesini.
“And then obviously, what they’re doing after the activities is sharing them on social media.”
But there was another side to youth crime that was overlooked by communities impacted and damaged by the offending.
“Equally, we’re starting to see families doing it really hard. Families impacted by drugs and alcohol… we’ve seen that having a big impact.
“When you put over the top of that the economic issues in terms of poverty, jobs, job opportunities, education - you’ve got almost a perfect storm brewing.”
So how does Marchesini think he and his team can curb youth crime, or fix the crisis?
“That’s a very difficult question. If you talk about a short, sharp response in terms of keeping the community safe, and ensuring that serious offenders are off the street, that that’s a quick fix,” he said.
“But actually working with families and getting community involved - that’s a really important part of this.. It’s actually having community involved in how we address these issues.
“How do we truly make sure they’re connected, so when they’re coming out of detention, they’re engaged with an appropriate adult mentor - whether it’s a parent, a relative, or it could be a foster carer - that truly has an active involvement in that person’s life. That’s the hardest part that we need to get right and focus on.
“And what have we dropped off in the last decade that we need to refocus on? How do we maintain children in schools? How do we maintain children that aren’t going to be at traditional schooling - there’s alternate pathways that we probably don’t invest in hard enough.
“Those things take time, and I suggest its almost a generational timeframe that we need to be looking at now.”
The taskforce were dealing with kids doing terrible things - but who were also waking up each day in terrible situations.
“We’re seeing children that are actually feeling safer in detention centres and in watchhouses rather than their own homes,” Marchesini said.
“We’re seeing that kids are out in the street because they’re not wanting to be home because of what’s happening - the level of violence, the level of drug and alcohol usage, not feeling safe. Those things are getting really hard to tackle.”
Marchesini wanted to change the narrative around youth offenders from “they’re all bad” to “what do they need”.
Because, at the end of the day, they are children with underdeveloped cognitive and decision-making power, with little concept of long-term impact and consequence, with no ability to properly care for themselves - and often their siblings.
“Often, what we’re hearing about as in the news is about the things that that worst cohort are doing. But it’s important to remember that outside that - these are children,” he said.
“These are children that aren’t getting what they need from the adults in their lives out there.”
Marchesini, like the others working in this space, will never minimise or excuse offending or antisocial behaviour because of age or background. But understanding the bigger picture was crucial for change.
As was understanding the different challenges faced in different communities - for example, First Nations and Australian European.
“We’ve been into First Nations communities and we’re seeing police and other stakeholders that are actually out in the community building trust with with children - that’s where it needs to sit.
“The YCRTs, that’s the first time in Queensland that we’ve had a model of corresponding agencies working alongside police outside business hours - where their core role is around engaging with children and breaking down barriers.
“In developing that trust, then we can start to sort of see what assistance they need and how they interact with their families.
“And you have to realise every community is different. You can’t have just one strategy… to have to hear the voice of the local community as to what’s needed and the investment needs to follow that.”
Marchesini said there was also meaningful work being done by community organisations.
“For example, the PCYC does amazing work. We’ve talked a lot about important it is to have that drop in session for kids outside of those school hours, so that when they’re home, they’ve been fed, they’ve had some activity.
“But more importantly, it’s building that trust with other people that can come and assist them and wrap services around them. Things like that I think are critical because it starts looking at breaking the cycle.
“Other agencies working with children are hearing that they want connection and if they’re not getting that in their family environment, that they’re getting it with their peers.
“And that’s what we’re seeing driving crime - where there’s that connection, there’s that adrenaline in terms of stealing a car with their friends. You have social media, there’s competitions on there in terms of that offending and that makes them feel wanted.
“What we need to be doing is focusing on something else that makes them feel wanted.”
Marchesini said the hardest part of his job was seeing young people with huge potential and value to the community, who go down the wrong path.
“And that’s down to a lot of the circumstances that they’re born into. No kid wakes up and says ‘I want to be a drug addict’.
“In many, many cases it’s around shame, not wanting to be in their environment. They then form that bond with other like-minded kids, and that’s when we start to see some of these issues play out.”
“For me, it’s about community actually being involved where they can - working with local government, working with service providers, working with local police.
“Give up some time and come down and work in those areas and actually see those kids… and build that trust. I think when children know that there’s adults in community that they can trust they’re more likely to not go down that path of offending or reoffending.”
If Marchesini said “grassroots” strategies were the way forward - and keeping an open mind about why youth offenders do what they do.
“A few days ago I was sitting in a school principal and she had been talking to a teenager about their future, and what they want to do, and they had no idea.
“They said ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get a job’. They’d lost that much value in themselves that they didn’t even feel as if they were worthy of or could even see themselves are getting a job. And that’s playing out across communities.
“So these projects and programmes - that early intervention where you can bring kids in and build their confidence… youth development is really important and bringing kids into that, to me, is where the best investment can be.
“Arresting our way out of the situation is not going to work. We’re not going to get anywhere by doing that. We can get greater success working with community, working with family and working with youth.”
There’s no bad kids - there’s just bad situations
Senior Constable Danny Eid sees the youth crime crisis from both sides, every day.
He sees the kids before the courts and he sees the kids on their way there. Kids who are desperate for the basics in life - food, a hot shower, an adult.
Eid is part of the Paramatta Police Citizen’s Youth Club, partnering with Rotary and the community to provide services to young people aimed at empowering young people to reach their potential.
From fitness classes to sports, driver training to school holiday activities, Friday night social gatherings to meals, PCYC’s offer a lot of what young people are missing in their home lives.
“There’s no bad kids - there’s just bad situations,” said Eid.
“There’s a kid that comes here who says he prefers to be in juvenile detention because there’s structure, routine and a sense of belonging. He knows what dinner he’s getting, that he’ll get sleep - he doesn’t get that at home.
“He’s breaking into people’s homes, violent offending. The crime rate spikes when he gets out.
“But he’s a good kid. He’s nice as pie - an absolutely lovely kid.”
One of Eid’s roles at PCYC is running a daily fitness class - an hour of sweat followed by breakfast where the kids can eat as much as they want, as long as they do their bit of setting up and cleaning up.
Before they head for a hot shower - which some don’t have at home - there’s a group chat.
The main themes are accountability, realising there is a consequence for every action; and making good and healthy choices.
“It’s back to basics, instilling those values - respect, manners, communication, punctuality; just try and be a nice person,” said Eid.
“Kids make bad choices, and sometimes they make seriously poor choices that affect the rest of their lives. But you just can’t judge them without knowing someone’s circumstances.”
Eid said giving youths what they need - not what adults think they need - was crucial.
“All of their lives they have been defensive, you can’t bullshit them,” said Eid.
“If they don’t value a programme, if they don’t have input and it’s something they just have to do - it’s pointless. You have to have their buy-in, and enable them to see the way.
“Sometimes all they can see is darkness. Here we provide family - we’re not here to parent you, but we look after each other. There’s a moment where kids feel safe and secure… where they can see a path forward. A safe environment is key - a place with structure that is non-judgmental… These clubs are in communities that need the them most.”
It’s about trying to understand young people
There are more than 60 PCYC clubs across NSW, each serving a unique demographic.
In Paramatta there are big Indian and Chinese communities, Redfern has traditionally been home to a strong Aboriginal population, and over in Blacktown you’ll find the highest concentrations of people claiming Pacific ancestry and Maori.
Each area has its own social issues - but the drivers of youth crime and the kids behind the offending have similar stories.
Fractured families, neglect, domestic violence, health and mental health problems, poverty, disengagement from school.
Ultimately they are all just trying to survive each day and find something to do in the world.
Each PCYC operates under the same ethos, offering education and upskilling programmes, sports and fitness and connection to other social services. But each club gets to “change the menu” to provide what its specific community needs.
Blacktown’s manager Jojo Lee said it was important to offer a space kids wanted to be, that could enrich them and where they could be nurtured. Because, at the end of the day, they were just kids.
“We want this place to be like a home, with a family environment - you come here as you are, if you have issues we’ll deal with them, but it’s always a safe space. We’d rather have you here if you’re not going to school,” Lee said.
“It’s about trying to understand what’s going on with our young people and how to really help. We’re not going out and doing things for the hell of it - it has to come from the youth and what they need.”
Lee and her team all know there’s no silver bullet - for youth crime in general or individual kids.
For them consistency and connection is the key.
“It’s got to be a holistic approach,” says Lee.
“It’s so layered, it’s just not something we can fix within the hour. There’s a care and a love we show to everyone no matter your size, shape, colour or background. We don’t determine what’s going to happen, we just consult and create the structure, give them around-the-clock support.”
One of the youth workers at Blacktown knows all too well what support can do for a troubled kid.
He grew up in New Zealand, his family connected to gangs and crime. In his teens he knew he had to get himself away from that to thrive.
He’s been in Australia for years now, working at Blacktown to help other kids growing up like he was. Helping other kids to see there are different choices, different ways of living and people that can help.
His staunch opinion is that a one-size-fits-all “just lock them up” approach to youth offending is not working - and really, never has.
“Human needs are the most important thing,” he said.
“It’s understanding, not growling… A lot of these kids are torn down by the system… when they come here they feel safe and that is the difference… it’s awesome to see.
“We’re changing lives here… and respect is given to everybody that walks in.”
“This is more than a programme, it’s a movement,” said Lee.
“It’s about providing a platform to allow our young people to take ownership and shine, to help them find a sense of purpose.
“We’re not a one-stop-shop and we don’t try to be. We try to put them onto community services that will really make a difference to their lives. You just have to listen, and create the space to make it happen.”
The club is their safe space - but we’re not a babysitting service
In Redfern, inner Sydney, the crime rate spikes every Friday night.
The kids have nowhere to go, nothing to do and little to go home for sometimes. To beat boredom, to fit in - often to get food and money to survive - they offend.
The local PCYC is trying to turn Redfern’s Friday nights around - and its youth.
Yillilung Gordon and his team run a Friday night programme for all locals aged 6-20 where they’re fed, entertained, supervised.
They’re in a place where they are wanted and cared for and for some of them, that’s the only time they have ever felt safe.
Gordon is Redfern born and raised; he knows the people and their issues. He’s even lived through some of them himself.
Now his mission is to give back and change the trajectory of young people before they end up part of the overrepresentation of Aboriginal Australians in juvenile detention or prison.
“Knowing the community, that’s what makes the difference,” Gordon said.
“There’s a lot of substance abuse, domestic violence and for the kids, the club is their safe space. A lot of kids come here for breakfast, we pack them a lunch and often I drive them to school. There are kids that don’t go to school, they come here instead.
“On Friday nights these kids are just walking the streets… a lot of the time it’s as basic as they don’t have any food at home.”
Gordon said many of the Indigenous kids struggle with a sense of identity, the result of growing up not only in the inner city but also in a suburb that’s been heavily gentrified over the years.
He knows how they feel and is passionate about helping them navigate that connection.
“I actually transitioned to my Indigenous name as I started really learning about my identity,” he said.
“I’m showing them I’m proud of who I am and I’m proud of my name.”
It’s just one way Gordon tries to be a good role model, someone the kids can look up to and learn from.
“These kids have no identity, no respect for the culture - but once they learn more about their connection to country, once they ‘get it’ they are just so proud.”
And when you connect to country, you can connect to your community more easily, Gordon reckons.
“I’m here to make a change in my community, that means a lot to me,” he said,
“A lot of kids here, you just want to pull them out of their cycle. When they are here they are secure and safe and we teach them about healthy lifestyle choices.
There’s a lot of community support for the Redfern PCYC - people who grew up there and still live locally doing their bit for the next generation.
Gordon said that was a crucial part of changing lives.
Rap star The Kid Laroi was born and raised Redfern by his mother and uncle, who was murdered in 2015. He has spent time with the kids at the PCYC over the years.
And many of the South Sydney Rabbitohs AFL team lend a hand where they can.
Gordon said fullback Latrell Mitchell - Birpai and Wiradjuri - was having a solo kicking session one morning and one of the PCYC kids spotted him.
He ran over and started kicking balls with the athlete, barefoot. When the boy returned to the club, he had Mitchell’s boots.
Gordon said many of the kids he worked with didn’t have normal shoes let alone shoes to play sport. So gestures like that from the community made a huge difference.
“We just work hard to break down the barriers,” he said.
“Here they get support, they get dinner, they even get driven home if they need… But we’re not a babysitting service.
“And we do have consequences - we have a ban system. If you break the rules you might get a ban for an hour, then an afternoon, then there’s a serious conversation.
“At the end of the day, it’s all for the kids, this is their safe place.”
The narrative in their head? That they’re bad, useless, dangerous, harmful.
A senior judge who has worked with young offenders in Australia for many years spoke to the Herald about their role - and how the court process can be a positive experience for children committing crimes.
They did not want their name published.
“The behaviour of many young offenders is due to poverty, disability or trauma which are the same factors that lead them to disengage from education before they start offending,” they said.
“I think that’s what people don’t see. When children and young people get to court our answer is to lock them up as that’s the only way we can protect the community. We look at what they’ve done, not what happened before they did it. A whole lot has gone wrong for a young person before they end up sitting before me.
“Locking people up is an effective short-term tool to protect the community but it’s only effective during the term of the sentence. They will be released and, if they don’t know how to live on the outside, then the community is less safe than if we’d used a different strategy to disrupt their offending.
“Many repeat young offenders are products of dysfunctional environments. They only know what they have experienced. We need to teach them what they need to know to live a pro-social life, including what they’ve done wrong and why it is wrong. If we don’t show them something different nothing will change.”
The judge said the community tended to “see the world in deficits” when it came to children.
“It’s easy to get frustrated by what they’re not doing right or what they’re doing wrong and that feedback is all some of them hear. The voice in their head tells them they’re useless and we confirm what they fear,” they said.
“When we lock people up we are telling them their fears are accurate - they are useless, they are dangerous, they’re harmful and the community is safer when they are not in it. I think we might motivate better behaviour if we shift the story we’re telling them, hoping they will then shift the story they’re telling themselves.”
When the judge began working with young offenders, they saw immediately that they could not be treated the same as adults in court.
“It’s important to me that they know they are an important person in my court. They should feel like they can contribute and that their contribution will be heard and respected.
“At times I have gone into the foyer to reassure young people who are too anxious to come into court. We’ve arranged food to settle young people who are hungry - some are homeless - or who have to wait for long periods.
“Occasionally, I have asked a young person to try on my robe and look at the court from my perspective before asking what they would do if they were me and wanted to help the young person to make better choices. Or I’d sit at the bar table with them and just go ‘I can tell you what to do, but you’re not going to do it. What do YOU think you need to do and how do I support YOU?”
It was also important to the judge that the young people were part of her decision-making process for bail and sentencing.
They explained how they spoke to young offenders at a hearing.
“The point of bail is to stop your offending - but that’s really your decision. I get to decide if I let you out or not. And if I let you out, regardless of the rules that are put in place, if you don’t care about them and you just want to offend, you’re going to offend. If you don’t want to offend, you’re not going to offend.
“If you think it’s easier I can put boundaries in place about what time you get home? So you have dinner at home and sleep every night. There might be friends you think you shouldn’t see as you’re more likely to get in trouble with them. How about you and I work out the boundaries that might help you to stay out of trouble?”
The judge felt their approach to young offenders was not traditional - but the right way to deal with their often complex lives.
They also included the parents in the process as much as possible.
“Parents are impacted by the behaviour of their children. For some parents it is devastating. They don’t want their kids taken away - they don’t want to be sitting in our Court. Sometimes I ask the parents if they want help with anything and if they need support.
“The people in our Court are just like us - but a version of us that is poor, or has been disadvantaged, or is neurodiverse, or has made difficult decisions or poor choices.
“I might say ‘now that you’re in court let’s consider what tools I have to help if you want to make a change. If you don’t want to make a change let’s have a frank conversation.”The judge said responding to youth crime “is not black and white” and needed much more collaboration between all agencies.
‘There is no point in a government that oversees different departments and funds different organisations to support children and families if none of them talk to each other,” they said.
“When a child comes into my court at the age of 13, the police and the welfare, health and education departments have already flagged that that child and their family are a problem. We are spending so much time, money, effort and stress managing exactly the same cohort of people that then come to our court.
“Why aren’t we doing it together? No one needs to lead or get credit or recognition. It doesn’t need to be anyone’s idea, it needs to be all of us… so let’s do it together.”
The judge said it was incredibly important young offenders had a degree of autonomy over what supports or services they need to change their lives, and how they get it.
‘We know ourselves than when a friend or professional tells us what to do or what changes we should make to lead a better life, we switch off,” they said.
“So, we need to talk to them, because we’re not going to be able to disrupt their circumstances without their buy-in.”
The judge acknowledged youths were responsible for significant harm in the community and that was not excusable. But in almost every case that offender had been harmed themselves.
“I can sit down with a bunch of 14-year-old girls about what’s happening to them at parties and all of us would be in tears - it’s so bad.
“And then there are children - 10, 11, 12-year-olds who never would have offended before, breaking into houses and holding knives to people’s throats while they sleep just to get likes on their TikTok video.
“Getting likes is akin to joining gangs. It gives young people a sense of identity and belonging. On the other side might be a home where nobody is there. the cupboards and empty, or the people who are home are intoxicated, unpredictable and violent.”
There will never be a quick fix for youth offending - but the judge said there was a way to try to help every child who is responsible for the behaviour that sits behind the charges.
Empowering them by giving them some autonomy and control, connecting with, and relating to them were all crucial.
“The way an adolescent brain is wired to understand is that their sense of themselves is dictated by what they think someone sees in them,” the judge said.
“So the behaviour is a way to be liked… it helps them fit in. That risk-taking is waiting for a reaction - for people to say ‘aren’t’ you sick and hectic’ - and that kid who’s receiving it is like ‘wow… now I fit in’.
“Then you’ve got a bunch of quite scared kids who haven’t figured out a more authentic connection point… I just don’t think we’re going to change that. Our challenge is how we understand it. And how do we influence it in positive ways?’”
Understanding the trauma the children have lived with is often something overlooked in a system devised to punish and reform, the judge lamented.
“For some of the kids who are being told to stop offending, that offending is part of their family culture - perhaps their parents, siblings aunts and uncles are in gangs,” said the judge.
“They say ‘if I stop, I may never see my family again’.
“Most of the kids who have two or more offences in the children’s court… have had Risk of Significant Harm (ROSH) reports. There is a large proportion of them who have been in care or are in care, a large proportion are Aboriginal, and a relatively large proportion have had parents who’ve been in custody.
“When they’ve been exposed to multiple adverse childhood experiences, these are the consequences.”
The judge saw a big part of her role in the youth offending space as “trying to get people to think about it differently”
“I keep saying ‘look at it from the moon’ - what are we doing? Why are we doing it?
“I think where we sometimes go wrong, is we try and fly people in to sort out a problem rather than building capacity within community… just one kid at a time.
“There are lots of people in the community who are quite good with kids, and they like them. They make the kid feel good and the kid is accountable to that positive adult for their behaviour.
“That positive adult may need to overcome some obstacles… but when they have a beautiful relationship with one kid, they’ll start to go, yeah, you can bring your friend or your brother, we can do some activities, I can feed you, I’ll be here for you whenever you need. Here’s a safe place for you.
“We need to work out a safe way for people to do that - and then recognise their contribution and promote it.”
Unravelling the clash between perception and reality around youth crime would also help matters, said the judge.
Fear would always influence people’s perception of a situation - particularly on what they have personally heard or experienced.
“It’s easy for people to perceive others in black and white - they’re criminals, and they’re not criminals. And people who are criminals need to be dealt with in a particular way It’s much harder to sit with the ambiguity of ‘these are just humans and these are human behaviours, and we as a society need to deal with them differently’,” they said.
There would always be poor behaviour and harm - but the judge said the challenge was to keep it at the lowest frequency and seriousness.
“But when it occurs, what’s the right response? And if it’s the criminal justice system… is it an adversarial system or an inquisitorial system or a therapeutic system? Does it change depending on the age of the kid or the capacity of the kid or the cultural background?
“There are too many questions… I don’t yet know what the right justice response is… I just think we can coordinate it better.
There’s no silver bullet, but what seems to be the key is everyone coming together.”
We’ve all been 14 - and we’ve all made bad decisions
In 2015 Magistrate Sue Duncombe presided over the first Youth Koori Court sitting in New South Wales.
She was an integral part of establishing the court, providing an alternative pathway for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander young people who have pleaded guilty to at least one offence.
The Youth Koori Court operates in a more informal way than a traditional court, with a strong emphasis on cultural issues - somewhat akin to New Zealand’s Rangatahi Courts, Ngā Kōti Rangatahi which are held on marae, and Pasifika Courts.
“It’s a therapeutic court; it’s a sentencing court but instead of sentencing straight away, the sentence is deferred to allow the young person to engage with services and cultural supports and to then demonstrate their efforts towards rehabilitation. Those efforts are taken into account when sentence occurs 9 to 12 months later,” Magistrate Duncombe explained.
“We work informally. I sit at the bar table with two elders or community panel members, preferably a male and a female. And on the other side, we have the young person with their lawyer and representatives from support agencies. They can also be supported by family members.
“It’s deliberately targeted at action and support. A young person agrees to tasks which are directed at addressing their needs. The support agencies also agree to support the young person in achieving their goals.
“I say to the young people: ‘It’s not a contract. If you find things difficult to achieve, we can amend the action and support plan’. But I don’t say that to the support agencies. They need to step up.”
Magistrate Duncombe said the Youth Koori Court was a much-needed option within the Australian justice system.
“Firstly, there is the history of trauma in this country due to the policies of removals of Aboriginal children from their families. Research shows that trauma can be transmitted genetically.
“Many parents of Youth Koori Court participants have been disconnected from their culture as a result of these past policies and that is no fault of the parents. Some of them have lacked the basic care that all children are entitled to. As a result of that, we see an over-representation of Aboriginal young people in custody.
“Approximately three per cent of the population in Australia identifies as Aboriginal. When we first started the court, on any one day, 59 per cent of young people in custody were Aboriginal”. That is clearly unsatisfactory by any standard.
She said the majority of the kids who came before her had often committed offences that were “significantly traumatic for the community”, but in many cases giving them a custodial sentence served only one purpose - punishment.
“Other purposes of sentencing such as promoting their rehabilitation are not well served by such a sentence,” she said.
“There’s a whole lot of issues impacting on these young people and their offending behaviours. They include poverty, lack of supports, lack of education, not attending school, housing, drug and alcohol use and boredom. There are also often mental health issues present and many do not have a strong connection to their culture.”
While the court was prepared to factor in those issues - the Magistrate could and would impose a custodial sentence if the crime necessitated it.
But even then, she was dubious about the long-term benefit.
“Locking these children up is not the key to ensuring it doesn’t happen again in a lot of cases… unless they’re given a reason to change, they’re not going to change after spending a few months in custody,” she said.
“It’s a temporary solution for the community to say ‘we received justice’ but they haven’t achieved any greater protections for the future as a result of the kids being in custody. The tragedy is that after they are released back into the community, some of them on the following weekend will re-offend.
“But what we’re doing in YKC is realising that you can’t lock up a young person forever, and they should be given a chance to demonstrate that the know what they did was wrong, and wrong enough for them to spend time in custody and if they want to change that outcome, they have to change.”
Magistrate Duncombe said the hardest part of the job was when young people are not ready to accept the support she offered.
“They might spend a lot of time in the YKC and then they go out and commit a very serious offence. I find it personally very hard when this happens, but I also know that they’ve been given an opportunity and they’re not ready to accept that opportunity,” she said.
Magistrate Duncombe said by the time youths get to her court, they have often been in need of support for far too long - they had missed consistent parental guidance and support and in most cases early intervention could have prevented the offending.
“We need to support parents in need, at the earliest possible stage when they’re showing signs of distress, and when the kids are showing signs of distress as a result of the parenting, or the lack of parenting or the quality of their parenting,” she said.
“We put in place supports for the young person and if needed, their parents or carers. It’s a way of dealing with families in crisis at the earliest stage.”
So how does the Youth Koori Court engage troubled youths? How does Magistrate Duncombe get them to see the light?
“One of the key things is cultural connection and the cultural support offered,” she said.
“Any review of the Youth Koori Court has included comments from young people saying it makes a difference to have an elder there, or community panel member. They feel accountable to their elders for their actions.
“We also have a majority of Aboriginal people working with these young people. When you walk into the court, it doesn’t feel like a dominant society court. We have artwork hung on the walls which have been painted by young people in custody. The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander flags also hang proudly.
Magistrate Duncombe said a better understanding of why youths offended and a shift of mindset around youth crime - particularly around Indigenous people and including New Zealand Maori - was sorely needed in the community.
“I want the community to understand that what’s happened has happened - and without diminishing their trauma, providing support to a young person who has caused that trauma can reduce the likelihood of this young person doing it again, to somebody else. That’s what we should be looking for”.
Magistrate Duncombe’s advice for people dealing with youth offenders was simple.
“Listen to them, and give them some hope,’ she said.
“We need to also not promise too much - we need to promise what’s achievable. We can help them, but we can’t say: ‘Oh yeah we’ll fix that for you’. We just have to be realistic and honest.
“When we listen deeply to young people in crisis, they will often guide us to a safer place for all.”
Anna Leask is a Christchurch-based reporter who covers national crime and justice. She joined the Herald in 2008 and has worked as a journalist for 18 years. She writes, hosts and produces the award-winning podcast A Moment In Crime, released monthly on nzherald.co.nz