Inside Story: Restorative justice

Every day, lives can be changed and shaped by the actions of others. Could you forgive someone who changed your life for the worse? Carly Gibbs reports

In a semicircle, with her hands over-lapped, is Kristy King. Face framed by blonde hair, her tears fall unchecked.

Across from her, are family members of the woman she killed. A husband of 23 years. Children, aged 16 and 18.

King goes to say ``sorry''. She chokes. Her hand flutters to her mouth. Then to her throat. Then back to her mouth.

She tries again.

``I think I'd just like to reiterate what I said to you that first time I met you,'' she says, looking the husband square in the eye.

``That I'm really, really sorry for what happened.''

She lets go of a soft sob. Her mother, sitting beside her, rubs her back.

``I still have no idea how it happened,'' she continues. ``Um, and yeah, I think about you guys a lot and everybody else who was involved that day.''

The husband, unfaltering, tells of having to prove to hospital staff the critically injured woman, who later died, was his wife. He was asked to identify her wedding ring. The daughter lifts purple-rimmed glasses and swipes tears. She tells King she's faced with putting her mum's arthritic huntaway down.

``I'm going have to put him down myself and that would have been mum's job,'' she says, voice trembling.

``I think that's your worst punishment, really. Knowing what you've done,'' says the son.

Frequently emotional arena

In March, TV2's 20/20 programme featured this emotionally harrowing face-to-face meeting between killer driver King, 24, and one of her victim's families.

It was the first time that a New Zealand TV crew has captured the frequently emotional arena that is a restorative justice conference. Involving Tauranga facilitators Tim Clarke and Sharon Stewart, it was carried out prior to King's sentencing, in which she was spared being sent to jail for the tragedy caused when she failed to take a moderate bend near Morrinsville in November. Three cyclists were killed.

Former Tauranga police detective turned criminal lawyer Glenn Dixon says while forgiveness is powerful thing, so too, is being accountable for an offence.Over coffee, he tells this true story:

It's 2007. A Maori man in his 40s is drinking at a bar in Mount Maunganui. It's late. He's quite drunk. He's run out of money. He spots a couple of women leaving their drinks on a leaner. They slip into the dark. Light up cigarettes.

The man sees an opportunity. He takes their drinks. A friend of the two women sees him do this. This man, Maori, in his 30s, goes up to him.

``I saw what you did,'' he says. ``I expect you to buy them both a drink.''

The thief with no money tries to escape.

The other man says: ``I hope you're not thinking of leaving without paying for those drinks?''

He waits.While the other man's back is turned, the thief picks up a metal barstool and smacks him over the back of the head with it. He is knocked unconscious. His head is split open.

The offender is brought before the court. He pleads guilty and wants to go to restorative justice. He feels terrible, says Dixon, his lawyer.

Here's why.

They both lived in Bayfair and had quite young families. It turned out both regularly went to the local shopping centre with their families and both didn't know who the other person was. They were frightened the other person would assault them at Bayfair.

So they each agreed to go to restorative justice and both talked about their fears. Turns out both had the same fears as each other.

``So that fear was immediately put to rest because they immediately knew who each other were,'' says Dixon.

``They were both decent people and, under different circumstances, they would have, in fact, probably been friends. They both played rugby, they both had kids same age and it was one of those heartwarming outcomes that you don't often see in the criminal justice system but you often get at restorative justice.''

For all the crims who go through the criminal justice system, Dixon reckons they're not all bad to the bone.

They are simply people who make poor choices.

``They're either stupid, have drug or alcohol issues, they have a mental illness or they're just weak. There are comparatively few who are bad or rotten to the core. And so you have a whole lot of people who have the capacity to change if they get the opportunity.

``Often restorative justice is a launching pad to that, because it makes them have an insight into the consequences of their offending. It really puts the blow torch on them and they have to front up.''

In court, there are restrictions on what can be said in a victim impact statement. In a restorative justice conference, it's open slather.

``It's the only opportunity the victim has in the whole process to tell an offender what they think,'' says Dixon.

For restorative justice to work, both parties have to be willing.

Sometimes victims can think the only reason offenders are doing restorative justice is to get a lighter sentence but Dixon believes few would hold that view afterwards.

``I've had cases where I've had offenders turn up to court who have been involved in restorative justice and the victim has turned up to support them.''

However, not everyone is quick to jump on the restorative justice band wagon. Understandably, few murder victims would participate.

``I mean, you couldn't possibly imagine that someone like Sophie Elliott's family would want to participate in it,'' Dixon says.

For others though, it helps them deal with grief and fear of crime.

``Crime is always on the front page of the paper, it's always the first cab off the rank on the news, it's always very prominent. There's a real perception out there that crime is an enormous problem in our community and I don't necessarily think that's true.''

Restorative justice, he believes, helps alleviate the victim's traumatic response.

``They are able to confront the offender and talk to them about what they have done ... they are able to disgorge all this poison inside them about the consequences of this offending. They're very angry people, many of them.

``They come along and they swear and say in a very blunt, direct way how they feel about what's happened and then they have underlying questions.

``Many want to know why they were chosen as a victim. Many of them want to know how it is that person came to be the monster that they saw and I can't think of any other process that can address that.''

What happens though when the victim does not get the response they want?

Dixon, who has acted for a number of people he arrested when he was a cop, says that's uncommon. The screening process is thorough and if an offender is not ``genuinely motivated'' to participate, the conference won't run, even if the victim wants it to.

``We see a negative outcome for a restorative justice conference as worse than no outcome at all for the victim,'' he says.

Does he think it exceptional that his client's victims are able to forgive?

``It's a very refreshing thing to see the human spirit and you know, forgiveness is very empowering because it helps people move on. People who belong to the Sensible Sentencing Trust, they are the victims of the most appalling crimes and often restorative justice can't even begin to address the harm they have suffered.

``A lot of people involved are completely overwhelmed with grief and anger and restorative justice can't be for everyone. There are limitations on how you can use it.''

Sensible Sentencing spokesman for Tauranga Ken Evans says there are some ``marvellous'' people who, for their own good, believe they need to forgive.

``I think that's an element that motivates them to do this. That's their choice, I guess.''

For many though, a restorative justice conference falls too close to the crime.

``You need a lot of water to go under the bridge to handle your own feelings, to be able to share them with others. Some things you just can't fix,'' Evans says.

The process can be used for murder but it's rare. If it is used, it is post sentence or prior to a Parole Board hearing.

Dixon believes there is big potential for the process to be used prior to a prisoner being released from prison.

``The offender has had a long time to look at and address the causes of their offending and often they're really motivated to make amends and make things right. People change in jail, people change enormously,'' Dixon says this with genuine feeling.

``I've got a client who is serving a sentence of preventive detention for a rape he committed. It was a terrible rape, he broke into a house in a small town and raped a lady in her 70s, at night, in her own home and it was his second rape. He was justifiably sentenced to preventative detention, no question about that.

``It was a completely appropriate sentence but he's just about to serve his 24th Christmas in jail, and, although I didn't know him at the time of the offending, he was a very different man to who he is now. People change.''

 Taken away safety and security

I wonder what ever happened to her?'' Brian Kelly asks himself.

The Tauranga radio host is thinking about the pregnant 16-year-old who broke into his Grace Rd home.

Confronting her at a restorative justice conference brought out the unexpected, and now, several years later, he wonders what's become of her.

Kelly's wife, Roanna, had planned to let him do all the talking at the conference but when she saw the girl's young face and swollen belly, things changed.

``I said `congratulations, you're obviously having a baby. I'm sure as part of you bringing this child into the world, you want to offer it safety and security. What upsets me, is you've actually taken that away from us.' For a long time, she didn't know how to answer that.''

It was a weekday when the teen broke into their house.

She and two others _ part of a burglary gang _ busted the safety latch off a window and, just like eels, slid into the Kelly home.

Once inside, they helped themselves to $100 cash, a PlayStation, liquor and Kelly's favourite yellow sports bag.

They then escaped out the front door and had a ``party'' under a tree, in a nearby cemetery.

The family felt violated and when they had the opportunity to meet one of the offenders _ the teenage girl _ they decided it would help their children, Amy, now 19, and Mark, now 16.

Three weeks before the burglary, the Kellys' pool pump had caught fire.

``Amy could cope with fire but couldn't cope that someone had been in the house and what would happen if they came back and she was there.''

Roanna and Kelly attended the restorative justice conference without their children. They discovered an older man had been running the burglary gang. The girl wrote a letter of apology and two cards for the children. She bought Easter eggs.

``Right from the word go when you went into that room, I actually felt sorry for her because you kind of knew what her upbringing was,'' Kelly says.

``I felt like we achieved something because we may have helped her.``

Roanna says: ``I felt when we left, quite empowered, I was able to impart the upset in my family.''

The gang leader was prosecuted. The girl went to youth court.

``She had age on her side and she'd had a real fright of the system and the consequences of what she'd done. It was a process designed to give her a shock. You get to ask `why?' and even if you just get that out of somebody it's worth it,'' Roanna says.

``It's human nature that people like to have a right of reply, or it goes round and round in your head.''

Catching kids early can have a big impact.

New Zealand Principals' Association president Patrick Walsh says restorative justice has been operating in secondary schools for a decade and, while results are positive, the process involves significant time and money.

The process is used for offences such as bullying and stealing and works in giving offending students ``a wake-up call''.

For serious offences, such as drug dealing or violent assaults, students are put before the board of trustees to be disciplined.

Walsh says without restorative justice, the realisation that actions have consequences would often never occur. It was every principal's hope that the process would prevent teen offenders committing crime once they left school.

Tauranga Moana Restorative Justice co-chairwoman Anne Pankhurst says restorative justice can be difficult for the victim who often does not want to relive the moment. Time and time again though, victims forgive.

In 2010, Tauranga's Graham Wilton-Jones showed true heart when he told the Bay of Plenty Times he didn't want the young man who killed his wife to go to jail.

Diane Wilton-Jones was killed instantly on January 2, near Maungatapu Bridge, as Samuel Trevor Kneebone, 18, was returning to Matamata. He is believed to have fallen asleep at the wheel.

Wilton-Jones told the Bay of Plenty Times he had hoped the outcome would not be a prison sentence.

``... it would ruin his life completely ... he must have it on his conscience all the time. I just think that it's so sad that he's ruined his life to a large extent as well.''

Kneebone was sentenced to 200 hours' community work and to pay $200 to Wilton-Jones. He was also disqualified from driving for 18 months.

Verbally aggressive

Tauranga Moana Restorative Justice manager John Delaney says the incredible generosity some victims show is amazing.

``I have no criticism of anyone who chooses not to do it, it's understandable. It's got to fit in with where they're at, particularly when someone has been killed. We only deal with cases where people plead guilty, so there is an acceptance of responsibility to start with.''

The offender and their supporters speak first, and then the victim/s and their supporters.

``Approximately 50 per cent of the cases that get referred to us will result in the victim giving consent for us to meet them. Out of those cases about 75 per cent to 80 per cent will result in a joint meeting. You're looking at a total of about 90 referrals a year from Tauranga (and Waihi) courts.''

Delaney, a former British trade union negotiator and mediator, says the 12 trained Tauranga Moana facilitators have varying backgrounds. Their position is to remain neutral and he says, perhaps surprisingly, he has not known any restorative justice conferences to turn physically violent. They can be verbally aggressive though.

``Even the smallest thing on paper, a petty crime, can be emotionally charged. We take the time to prepare the parties separately and build a rapport with them. They've got to be able to trust that you'll do right by them. They both go into this worried. Will they seek revenge?''

Mike can't remember how many expletives he said to Marie.

He'd fired the woman after eight months of submitting 50 false invoices and stealing more than $11,000.

They agreed to meet in a restorative justice conference 18 months later.

She'd completed a nine-month home detention sentence and 200 hours' community work. Although time had passed, Mike, her former manager, was still ``pissed off''.

None of her former colleagues could bear to face her, so he went to the conference alone. Like a raging bull, he huffed and puffed. Red eyes, staring down his target.

Striding into the room, Mike, who is intimidating enough with his large, burly frame and shaved head, let rip.

``I was pissed off, eh? I mean, I was really angry. I said `you ******* thieving bastard'.''

Marie burst into tears.

``I just thought `you're here to get a sign-off for court, that's all you want'.''

``I don't give a **** about your tears,'' he spat.

``I care that you stole $11,000, which was money destined for kids.''

Two hours later and Mike had softened. Looking at Marie's tear-stained face, he started to feel empowered.

He had got the hurt off his chest. He was ready to forgive.

``We were friends ... I'd hired her, I'd trained her, I stood beside her when she went into social work school knowing what her fraud history was (she'd been convicted twice before), she went to jail for that.''

Marie's offending started ``within hours'' of Mike going to Auckland for work.

``Everyone (in the office) was furious. There was stuff I really needed to say. The forgiveness didn't come right away. She had our uniforms and I said `we want them back because we don't want you wearing them'. That hurt her.

``Then there was the issue of the money. She took a loan off a relative and paid every one of those payments. It was at the end of that, I knew she meant it. You work your way to a point as to what you actually want out of it,'' Mike says. ``It's got to be more than throwing rocks at somebody.''

Mike has seen Marie a few times since the restorative justice meeting.

``I think she is a changed woman and I don't usually forgive people.''

What is his hope for her?

``That she gets on with her life ... our hope is she just becomes a normal citizen and she's not on anybody's radar except her own.''

Earlier this year, the Bay of Plenty Times reported how Tauranga mum Tina Mitchell went through the restorative justice programme with the English teenager who killed her daughter and her daughter's friend in a road crash in February.

Rose-Ana Kingi, 21, and Eruera Eriata Munroe, 22, died after George Fredric Skofic's Honda car crossed the centre line and collided head-on with the Volkswagen they were travelling in on State Highway 29 near Karapiro on February 20.

Outside court, Kingi's mother, Tina Mitchell, said that she wasn't surprised by the non-custodial sentence handed down to Skofic and wouldn't have wanted him to be imprisoned.

``... he's just a boy, and my daughter was such a big person that she wouldn't have wanted him to go to jail either _ even though she lost her life.''

Restorative justice lets victims see their offender face to face. He or she is no longer a dark shadow. They step into the light. They each take a risk. Sometimes it's a disaster. Often it's a miracle.

*Note: Mike and Marie are not their real names.

Have your say by leaving a comment below or email the editor on: editor@bayofplentytimes.co.nz