Grieving for lost trust

Friday, March 15 has been described in the media as ‘‘the end of our innocence’’. I understand the intent of this, but the phrase seems all wrong to me. Innocence – I checked the dictionary to make sure it wasn’t my misinterpretation – and the definition talks about naivete´ , lack of knowledge or understanding, harmlessness, innocuousness.

It’s not naivete´ or a lack of knowing or understanding that is our tikanga (values). It’s way better than that. It’s not that we don’t know – it’s that we choose to operate by trust where there’s any possible way that we can (with Kiwi ingenuity) achieve it.

That trust is not naive. Believing in the common good is one of THE most precious and beautiful things about being a Kiwi.

It comes not from innocence, but from a determination not to allow those who are the destroyers of a trust-based way of life to reign supreme and curtail freedom.

Throughout the West, we are witnesses to that kind of framework changing, and it’s a miserable and depressing process. There is a uniqueness in the Kiwi psyche that defies that slide.

Back in 1829 ‘‘general instructions’’ were issued to British police officers. The vibe of these instructions was known as ‘‘policing by consent’’.

We were still taught this ethos when I trained as an officer nearly two centuries later. It means that the power the police hold comes from the consent of the public, in the main, as opposed to the threatening power of the state.

In 1956, Charles Reith wrote about this, saying it was ‘‘unique in history and throughout the world because it derived not from fear, but almost exclusively from public co-operation with the police, induced by them, designedly by behaviour which secures and maintains for them the approval, respect and affection of the public’’.

Respect, rather than fear, is the basis of this type of policing. It doesn’t work for everyone – but while it can be maintained it’s a win-win. It’s not a stance of innocence – the full weight of force is there, and can be applied if needed.

But it’s not a state in which people live in fear. Viewing the clip of the two police undertaking the arrest of the alleged perpetrator of the shootings in Christchurch made me cry tears of pride for the courage of those officers, and all that they stood for as representatives of us as a people. They stood for protection and heroic selfless action.

And as well as achieving an incredible arrest, I have no doubt they are the kind of people who would help someone across the road or find the right words of reassurance when delivering bad news. Not naive, but deserving and earning respect.

When a friend and I were on a camping tour of Taranaki communities we pitched our tent for a night in the little community of Ngamatapouri. We were hammering the last few pegs when the guy living opposite came over to let us know that the door to his kitchen would be open all night if we found that we needed anything.

He had no idea who we were and his words of hospitality to me as an immigrant, who had been in the country a relatively short time, profoundly shaped my understanding of my host country.

There was nothing naive in his approach to us – I’m sure he’d been stung plenty of times in his life. He had chosen not to allow that to curtail his openness and manaakitanga.

He took a risk on his own life and property by making such an offer, when he could have not said a word and quietly made sure his door was locked.

My point is that informed trust is a thing of such beauty and preciousness that those who have had the privilege of witnessing it hold that way of living in envy and high regard. We choose to operate in this way as a people.

The possibility of that now being destroyed is a grief right up there among the others that each of us are dealing with.

That way of being has proved itself with thousands visiting mosques for the first time, delivering flowers, donating millions and converting hatred into love.

A genuinely beautiful response that has again brought me many times to tears over the last few days expresses to the Muslim community and to us all, ‘‘Continue to trust, because you are surrounded by aroha, and aroha is the champion here.’’

There have been many times in our history when trust has been broken, but unfathomable lengths have been taken to rebuild it. This is our way of being, and is the rose that blossoms from the manure of suffering.

When I was at kindy, I remember doing an activity where we put a clod of earth in a jar of water, screwed the lid on, and vigorously shook it up. My friend Andrew failed to secure his lid properly, and the results were spectacular.

Once Andrew had been dried off, we watched as the particles flew around energetically in the water, and then were told to put our jars down and wait. I was amazed at how quickly things settled to the bottom and the water was pretty much clear. Then we all got seriously into shaking them up again.

When everything has been jangled up in us so severely, there’s two critically important things to note:

One: Loads of other stuff is stirred up. We will all be experiencing past trauma and grief resurfacing through this tragedy, and that may provoke in us such feelings as anger, depression, disbelief, fatigue, bitterness and pain. Deep questions will arise in us.

It is good to act on these. Pop in and chat with friends and family, reach out to someone you’ve not seen in a long time, pick up the phone, arrange to see a counsellor – call the Retreat if you would value some extra support. It’s best not to shut those feelings down.

Two: While it’s all floating about in us, it’s time to scoop some stuff off that’s floated to the surface, and discard it. Nationally, some of that looks like reform of gun legislation and not standing for any undertone of racism to continue.

For us personally - for you and me – what can be sieved off before it settles? I’m working through that process – noticing what’s surfaced by way of regret and personal failings, and acting to change, remembering that the smallest action is better than the greatest intention.

Finally, it’s said that five hugs a day is a target for optimal mental health. Time to start working on that goal. Arohanui.

– Jamie Allen is a former police officer, DJ and Dean of the Taranaki Cathedral of St Mary and founded the Taranaki Retreat suicide prevention centre, where he currently works. He was Taranaki Daily News Person of the Year for 2018.