The recent death of another Māori baby tragically joins a growing list of tamariki who are killed each year.
Many of you know that I do not typically support the law-and-order narrative.
I believe our justice system often delivers significant injustices to victims, while many offenders require mental healthcare ratherthan incarceration.
Longer sentences do not work; increasing our prison population merely perpetuates a cycle of crime and imprisonment.
I have seen many whānau affected by incarceration, and very few are rehabilitated. Most individuals exit prison briefly before reoffending, creating a continuous loop.
If we want to increase gang numbers, we should simply increase the prison population, as prisons often serve as recruitment tools for gangs.
That said, we must engage in a serious discussion about the alarming number of young Māori who are killed, often by those who should provide them with safety, security, and love – namely, their own whānau.
Poverty and disconnection are central concerns in addressing Māori child deaths. Photo / Thinkstock
Now, before talkback land goes off with “Te Pou says Māori have a domestic violence problem”, let’s get it clear – it’s more complicated than that.
If people live in poverty; if they lack hope; if they are disconnected from their culture and a sense of belonging; if they have a history of being abused themselves, whether at the hands of family, school, church, or the state – they are more likely to perpetuate harm on others.
Does that mean everyone who is poor or has been abused becomes violent? No, not by a long shot – but there are material, mental and spiritual drivers of the cycle of violence.
That said, while poverty and inadequate housing persist for too many whānau in our country, it is not an excuse for any individual to harm those they are meant to protect.
Regardless of our individual or collective circumstances, we must prioritise the safety of our tamariki and mokopuna. I cherish the term “mokopuna”, which, as a champion of te reo Māori once explained, means a reflection of oneself.
If our mokopuna truly reflect us, we must take ownership not only of our lives but also of our whānau. We have all experienced family gatherings where we sensed something was amiss with a nephew or niece, feeling a negative vibe within the whānau.
Regardless of people's individual or collective circumstances, the safety of tamariki and mokopuna must be the top priority, Shane Te Pou writes. Photo / Getty Images
In those moments, we need to have open conversations. We must reassure our loved ones that it’s okay not to be coping; we all go through difficult phases in life, often temporarily. We are here to listen and help.
Simple expressions of caring and intervention can be life-saving. However, for many whānau, the fractures run deep and resolving internal trauma is challenging.
This issue is often generational, and sadly, so is the abuse. We don’t break the cycle with the Government waving an even bigger stick. We must change the decision-making and outlook of people who inflict harm on their whānau, or are at risk of inflicting harm, as well as their material conditions.
Te Pati Māori co-leaders Debbie Ngarewa-Packer and Rawiri Waititi speaking to reporters at Parliament, Wellington. Photo / Mark Mitchell
That is how we turn them away from violence. Throwing red meat to the “lock ‘em up” crowd might win some votes, but it doesn’t solve the problem.
Only hard mahi on the ground can do that. Community-based organisations play a vital role in addressing these issues. Te Puna Ora o Mataatua, based in Whakatāne, employs a Whānau Ora model that provides integrated health, medical, social and employment services.
Full disclosure: my brother works there, often travelling to isolated areas to ensure people receive medical care and, just as importantly, to share a cup of tea and a meaningful conversation – connection is essential.
Among my own iwi, Tūhoe Hauora offers a range of grassroots services, including early intervention programmes for young offenders. Police, whānau and rangatahi work collaboratively to develop workable solutions.
It is a safe space where whānau know the people involved, as they come from the same communities. They engage in local kapa haka, netball, basketball and rugby teams.
I believe that when abuse occurs in whānau, it often leads to tragedy in succeeding generations, resulting in the isolation and death of our mokopuna.
Grassroots services break the cycle by working to help whānau have better lives, with jobs, hope and an understanding that they can choose not to do to their tamariki what was done to them.
There are good people doing the hard work on the ground every day, with thousands of success stories of broken whānau being mended.
The responsibility lies with us to recognise, engage with and support these efforts.
