KEY POINTS:
It's a cold and wet night in the Far North, where two boys are struggling to hold a telegraph pole above their heads as they run through mud, up and down hills, over and over again.
One has convictions for assault, the other for burglary and both are
on "night PT" (physical training) - two gruelling hours of exercises after collecting three "strikes" for their indiscretions, including a punch-up between themselves during day three of the Male Youth New Direction (New Directions) programme.
The lifeskills course - run partly along paramilitary lines - is helping turn the lives around of some of the Auckland region's worst youth offenders.
One of the boys, exhausted after an earlier and particularly brutal PT that day, drops to his knees, barely clinging to the pole.
His lungs - battered by smoking and cannabis use - are screaming for air.
"Pick up your toothpick and move, right now!" calls instructor Soane Papali'i, a former able seaman.
Through clouds of his own steam, the boy utters a few expletives before responding: "It's a pretty heavy [expletive] toothpick, sir."
There's more grunt work - log carrying , push-ups, vomit-inducing sprints and carting of two 20-litre jerry cans up a steep and slippery hill.
"These are what we call accountability sessions," says Steve Boxer, creator of the New Directions programme and a former soldier who completed stints in Malaysia and Darwin with the New Zealand Army in the early 1990s.
"We are trying to make these boys realise that for every action there's a consequence.
"For many, they've never had this spelled out to them before."
For those who attend Boxer's New Directions programme - 20 weeks of intense discipline, mentoring and life lessons - it's their last throw of the dice. The boys are typically Maori or Polynesian, aged 14 to 17, with convictions for crimes from burglary and tagging to wounding with intent to injure and grievous bodily harm.
After being stripped of their belongings, their gang identities and most of their hair, the boys undertake possibly the hardest and most regulated 10 days of their lives during the programme's army-like away phase.
Out are PlayStations, cellphones, hanging out with mates all night and and the droopy swagger and gangster-style posing.
In army-style kit they learn to iron, get 7am wake-ups, must ask for permission to urinate, march with straight backs and utter the frequent and loud use of "sir'.
It's an extremely rigid regime - it has to be for the instructors to form the necessary bonds for the home phase where they will act as mentors and try to get the teens back into school, jobs or training.
There are consequences for every indiscretion - usually served in push-ups or another physical "accountability".
Invariably some of the boys break, fighting among themselves or occasionally their instructors.
But Boxer is unapologetic.
"There are far worse consequences in real life, as many of these boys know and have experienced, but hopefully knowing what these boundaries are they will apply what they have learned here back in their home environments," he says.
"It's hard, it has to be, but this isn't a boot camp."
"They're more about degrading people with a 'do as I say' attitude - we have a 'do as we do' policy," says Boxer who, along with his staff, completes all the tasks they ask of their proteges.
Not all the youths respond long-term. Boxer freely admits some have succumbed to gang life and are now in prison or dead - but since its inception in his Manukau garage seven years ago there has been a 58.1 per cent reduction in total reoffending from graduates and a 71 per cent drop in serious crimes.
New Directions supporter and head Youth Court Judge Andrew Becroft, said the approach was both restorative and cost-effective when compared with the $50,000 needed to put someone in prison.
"As a country we are crying out for this type of intervention and the results from this programme seem to be very, very encouraging," Judge Becroft said.
"These young men should be congratulated for the tough work they're doing ... they are defusing human time-bombs."
But despite this judicial endorsement and Graham Dingle's plans to take the programme national through his Foundation for Youth Development, Boxer says there has been no firm funding commitment from its main provider, CYFS.
Indeed, Boxer, whose contractual involvement with Project K helps to pay some of his staff costs, said if New Directions did not secure $1 million to employ more instructors and social workers, the latest programme could be the last.
"We are not going to do it on faith and perseverance alone, we have the passion, but seven years is long enough. We hope they will see reason to fund it 100 per cent."
On the right track
Nathaniel Ferini lives with his partner Charry-Mae and their 5-month-old son, Nathaniel, in Mangere.
Now 22, Nathaniel was 16 and a member of the F*** Mangere Styles gang when he attended the New Directions programme and Genesis Youth Project. He has convictions for burglary and possessing an imitation weapon.
But since finishing the programme in 2002, he has been crime-free, cut his gang links and works in the timber industry.
Before you did the programme what were you doing?
I was basically jumping into other people's houses and their cars, taking what I could and hardly ever getting caught.
Why did you take the programme?
It was either that or court. I saw it as an easy option out - but it wasn't that easy.
So how was it?
It was hard at first getting used to it but it got easier. It's just all about following instructions and listening. I didn't really have to before.
How did it help you?
It gave you options that you wanted to take advantage of and it made you appreciate things. The instructors became like father-figures. You can go to your mother for guidance and everything but they [the instructors] were always there too. I started looking forward to the gym sessions and help they gave me. You appreciate the attention.
Would you recommend it?
Definitely. It gives offenders more of an understanding of what they've done wrong. All I knew at that time was the easy way to get money, I didn't really care if it was right or wrong.
Was it hard coping when you went home?
I was thinking 'yeah, I'm free!' but then you start thinking 'I shouldn't really be doing this'. I knew I had to make some changes and cut some of the people I hung out with right out. It was hard but I just wanted to stay as far away from the cops as I could.
Where would you be today if you hadn't gone on the programme?
Probably in jail or on some billboard saying 'wanted'. I had offers to join a lot of gangs and some of my mates are still in there.
AIMING TO SUCCEED
ANDRE is a young boy who likes playing chess and fooling his mates with his card tricks.
He performs in his school kapa haka group and can clearly explain the difference between forgiveness and redemption.
The 16-year-old has outstanding NCEA passes, which sets him apart from others on the programme.
Andre also has a conviction for grievous bodily harm after attacking a man for a few hundred dollars and some cigarettes.
It was the first time the 16-year-old had ever broken the law and "the most stupid thing I've ever done".
"It's something I'll be paying for for the rest of my life," he says.
Now with his girlfriend due to give birth to their child shortly, he doubts whether he will fulfil his dream of working in the financial sector.
Andre feels he doesn't belong in the group. "I'm not sure if I'm taking much away from this, I shouldn't be here, I'm not like these fullas," he says. "I'll just do what I have to to get through."
Identified early by instructors as a potential future leader, Andre keeps little company and doesn't indulge in the gangsta speak the others use.
And nor does he share the same enthusiasm for his future that his mentors do.
And with things dependent on the outcome of the MYND programme, he says he's "not sure what I'm going to do now".
But after a series of progressively-themed lectures which focus on positive thinking, accountability, the consequence of actions positive or negative and the potential each of these young men have, the penny drops.
He's a smart kid who realises more challenges lie ahead with the next phase, which will involve more intense mentoring back in Auckland to ensure he stays focused.
"I think I've realised I don't have all the answers and I can make a change if I'm willing. I think I am willing to make that change."
MICHAEL has scars on his right wrist from a scuffle he had a few years back with a Bloods gang member.
Kind and baby-faced, he has shy eyes and looks up from under his brow when he's addressed despite being close to 1m 96 tall.
It's hard to believe the 15-year-old is a hardened gang member.
"This guy swung a machete at my head and all I could do was put my arm up like this," he says displaying the deep gash. "An inch more and I would have lost my hand."
Kicked out of school a few years back for fighting and drinking, Mike has worked in various jobs since, earning decent money. Both his parents have gang affiliations.
Mike attended a family group conference where he had to confront the parents of a boy he attacked with a knife.
"They were a Pakeha family, I think they were quite rich. They actually offered me a job and to go and work for them."
Although he says he was grateful for the offer, he turned it down.
"I'm doing the MYND programme to get back into school, that's where I want to be," he says.
Mike is a team player and despite gang rivalries on the programme, he puts those aside to dig deep in activities that require constant effort from all members.
He's evasive about whether he has retained his links to the gang but says he's keen to get back to school "to get some good qualifications to earn some really good cash".
JASON knew it was his last chance when a Youth Court judge threw him a lifeline: the MYND programme.
The 17-year-old, whose list of offences include demanding with menace, possession of an offensive weapon, theft, assault with intent to injure, two charges of wounding with intent to injure and grievous bodily harm, admits "bad habits" got the better of him on his return from the last MYND programme away phase.
He was apparently doing well in a trades course but was kicked out for drinking and fell back in with a well-known street gang in South Auckland.
"I was drinking and fighting mainly. Either you're down with the boys or you're not down with them," he said.
"I wanted to be down with them, Sir."
In a street confrontation, Jason and two of his associates beat a man so seriously he later told a judge he could only "see red" when he continued to pummel the man as he lay on the ground. Fortunately for him, a sympathetic Youth Court judge offered Jason a second shot at the MYND programme.
Meauli Seuala, MYND's designated social worker says: "If he reoffends, he will be tried as an adult, but on this occasion he was very, very lucky."
It seems Jason really does want to learn this time. A row with another boy suggests the anger management lecture earlier that day had struck a chord.
The most physically imposing of all the boys on the programme, Jason passed up a session of night PT for the camp's 24-hour 1000 push-up challenge.
He completed that with ease and disdain - a blatant boast, and warning - to all comers of his physical superiority.
So a punch-up with an out-of-shape teen with a big mouth would have been like switching a light off.
But to his credit, Jason impressively steps away from the potential conflict, preferring to talk it through with one of the instructors."I'm really trying, Sir, I want to change."
* The boys' names have been changed.
