Taken from mum

TMa¯ ori, on the scale needed to effect change, did not happen. Proper funding did not eventuate, and by 2013 the number of Ma¯ ori children in state care had ballooned by 20 per cent. Conversely, more white people were now getting to keep their children; Pa¯ keha kids in care dropped by 20 per cent.

Meanwhile, there had been no meaningful government drive to address child abuse and neglect.

This changed with the Children’s Action Plan in 2013, when a raft of changes ostensibly designed to protect children for 20 years, the cycle of disadvantage for Ma¯ ori – which began with colonisation – is being encouraged by changes to the law. ‘‘If the state takes one baby, all future babies are in the pool to be assessed,’’ she says. ‘‘For Ma¯ ori, given our terrible statistics, that means we are in danger of losing a generation of children.’’

For a study published in the New Zealand Law Journal this year, Williams Blyth and a team at Whakauae Research Services interviewed 10 Ma¯ ori parents and grandparents about their experiences of state intervention.

They found parents often felt confused by the process, alienated, disempowered and judged. ‘‘It’s like, I’m brown, you’re white, I’m f .... d,’’ one said. ‘‘I’m gonna sit here, feel ashamed, let yous all stare at me and go ‘you should be ashamed’ cause that’s exactly how you feel. That’s exactly how those [Oranga Tamariki], lawyers and the judge make you feel.’’

Parents found it difficult juggling court dates, unexpected legal costs, travel and childcare for meetings, with a high turnover of social workers adding to the instability.

Depending on the access granted by the court, a mother may see her baby for an hour every couple of weeks. Coupled with seeing the attachment the baby is beginning to form with its primary caregiver, it all often becomes too painful and overwhelming, Williams Blyth says.

And in her experience, there’s often no desire from the state to work with the family. Foster parents are told from the baby’s birth they will be the child’s permanent caregivers. ‘‘They love this baby and they’re good people, but it’s completely unfair for the family who think they’re going to do some work and get their baby back. It’s not going to happen. It’s soul-destroying.’’

The analysis of a ‘‘safe’’ home is also inconsistent, Williams Blyth says. She’s been involved with families where Oranga Tamariki has been trying to work with them to get a teenager back in their care – who may have run away from several foster families – while simultaneously removing a baby. ‘‘The babies are easier to find caregivers for. They’re so cute.’’

To combat the law change, Williams Blyth partnered with Waikato-Tainui to train a team of legal navigators. These iwi advisers support families in their interactions with social agencies, explaining the consequences of their choices. She also travels the country educating Ma¯ ori in their legal rights as part of the Te Korimako initiative, with the aim of reducing the number of Ma¯ ori in state care.

Some, like Becroft, are optimistic change may still be coming. A raft of new laws drafted in 2015 under then social development minister Anne Tolley will take effect next July. They include strict requirements for the government to measure and report back on outcomes for Ma¯ ori children.

‘‘It requires much greater prioritisation for children who are Ma¯ ori, and there are new and strengthened provisions for that,’’ says Becroft. ‘‘There is a much greater emphasis on earlier intervention where there is a risk of removal, rather than the intervention being triggered when the decision has been made to remove the child.

‘‘I think one of the big dealbreakers that’s possible in this [new] system is there will be a much greater chance of keeping children in their families, with the provision of wraparound assistance for the family.’’

In the meantime, Te Huia is sick of waiting. She’s lodged her own Treaty of Waitangi claim urging the Government to recognise the discriminatory treatment of Ma¯ ori women, illustrated by the taking of their children and inequities in maternity care, as part of the Mana Wa¯ hine Kaupapa Inquiry.

She hopes this, along with the stalled Royal Commission of Inquiry into Historical Abuse, will lead to radical changes in the way child protective services operate.

‘‘The Government – and that’s every government, whether Labour or National – refuses to accept that what they’re doing is taking children, and as a result refuses to apologise as they see nothing wrong.

‘‘Until the government is willing to address the systemic racist abuse of Ma¯ ori, then it will continue.’’