Police at Hawke's Bay Hospital during an attempted baby uplift led by Oranga Tamariki. File photo / Warren Buckland
COMMENT
Oranga Tamariki is hardly off the front pages for some reason or other. And the news is seldom good.
Another little child is beaten near to death. No one is talking. No decrease in children being uplifted and, even worse, a significant increase in Māori children being taken fromtheir whānau.
In fact, the rate of Māori children uplifted has increased significantly over the past three years, while non-Māori removal remained the same, and still far too high at that.
There's also a staggering 320 per cent increase in court orders to uplift unborn children; arguments about racism in terms of social work practice; criticisms of bureaucratic insensitivity. The list goes on and on.
We must be clear. This is one of the most difficult areas of public policy and practice.
If children are removed, then Oranga Tamariki is likely accused of premature intervention and meddling. If they do not, and a child is hurt or killed, they are accused of not acting quickly enough and the consequences are horrendous.
The decision whether to remove a child is not a precise science and that makes life even more difficult for those who have to decide. I know. I was part of the Child Youth and Family system that had to make such decisions and I know how difficult this is and how much agonising went on. I am sure it still does.
Despite all the best efforts in the transition from Child Youth and Family to Oranga Tamariki, the truckloads of money spent and the promises that things would change significantly, they have not, at least not in terms of outcomes.
This is because the model is still basically flawed.
Oranga Tamariki and the social workers who work for it, despite their heroic efforts, are not seen as a part of a community or iwi groups. They are "the government" and, more likely than not, rarely trusted. Experience has taught this lack of trust to many in our communities.
I once had a police officer tell me that the social workers were hated in his community more than the police because when social workers come a-knocking they can take your kids away.
How is it possible to establish positive relationships that might lead to more effective early intervention when this attitude exists?
Now let us look at the visual perceptions created for families and whānau. Most Oranga Tamariki offices are still separated from the community they serve and holed up in government buildings. Parents, families and children in various vulnerable states must go to these buildings, where most of the staff are behind locked doors for security reasons, often meeting them in cheerless spaces where it would be impossible to feel comfortable or at ease.
In addition, to be a social worker and employed at Oranga Tamariki, you need a tertiary qualification and be a registered social worker. Many of those who may be able to earn the trust of many communities and "get a foot in the door" can never be employed because the academic and professional bars prevent them. Yet, there are many who have the knowledge, skills, empathy and mana to do so.
So, what to do? While the transition has attempted to do some things differently, the basic structures of the new organisation did not go nearly far enough.
If we are to make any progress on child abuse and neglect, then this must be a genuine partnership with families, iwi and other relevant community groups. Not just an MoU that is reviewed from time-to-time, but a real partnership.
That means developing multidisciplinary teams that comprise relevant professionals such as social workers, psychologists, nurses and educators and, equally importantly, individuals from iwi and other community groups as equals in the team. Those who do have the skill to get close to families and whānau and be trusted by them.
Further, these teams should be embedded in iwi and community agencies and be an integral part of them. Back-up support and resources may be rationalised into one place but not the teams. They should be out with the communities they serve, where they can get to know and be trusted. And to see small trouble before it becomes big trouble.
We must also learn to trust and embrace a range of people to work on this wicked problem and not exclude many because they might not have a certain qualification or professional tag. It is often those people who will make the most difference.
I have nothing but respect for social workers and Oranga Tamariki, for what they do and the trying situations they find themselves in each day. But, unless we let go and start to trust others and genuinely do things differently, we will make little progress.
Our children deserve better.
• Dr John Langley, ONZM, was previously a regional director with Child Youth and Family.