Speech by Commissioner Kim Workman at the launch of the Families Commission's Whānau Strategy

Speech by Kim Workman
Families Commissioner responsible for the Whānau Strategy
Grand Hall, Parliament Buildings
Thursday 22nd April 2010

Whakataka te hau ki te uru
Whakataka te hau ki te taonga
Kia makinakina ki uta
Kia mataratara ki tai
Kia hi, eke ana te atakura
He tio, he huka, he hau hu
Tihei Mauri ora

Minister Turia, I want to thank you for the ongoing support and encouragement you have offered Jan Pryor, Chief Commissioner, myself, and indeed the whole Commission as we have worked over the last 18 months to position ourselves to engage more effectively with Māori. Over that time we have built internal Māori capacity. We have actively sought the support and counsel of Māori leadership through the Whānau Reference Group and in consultation with iwi, and are about to engage with a number of Māori entities which will take our understanding and involvement with whānau to another level.

None of that has been easy, and nothing worth doing ever is. Commissioners have had many vigourous discussions, and plenty of teachable moments, as we have forged a way to a common and united position. I particularly want to thank the two most recently appointed Commissioners, Christine Rankin and Bruce Pilbrow. While they were late getting on the waaka, we have all arrived at the same destination, strong and resolute in our determination to contribute and add value to the wider government role of building whānau strength and resiliency.

Two weekends ago, I attended a noho marae at Kohunui Marae, near Pirinoa – the centre of the cosmos. I was offered the best chair in the house – proof that I had finally achieved the status of kaumatua. The Wairarapa Moana Trust had called a hui of all their scholarship recipients to receive their study grants, and to promote whanaungatanga. Incidentally, I was one of them, proof that as you get older you get sharper and potentially more dangerous. Whakapapa was recited and debated, mau rakau skills finely honed, oriori learnt, and a bus tour of Wairarapa Moana and its hinterland brought to us all, the unique history of those who lived within ‘te Karu o te Ika a Maui’ – the eye of Maui’s fish. It was a weekend I will remember for the rest of my life. It caused me to reflect on what were the most memorable days of my life – and inevitably they were not about individual achievement – but about moments in which family and whanau were involved. On returning home I asked my 18-year-old son, “Wiremu, in your short life, what were the happiest times?". He thought for a while and replied, “When we went to Papawai Marae for our family reunions, and I got to help out in the kitchen. And at the end, I got a chocolate bar and everyone clapped”.

My one regret, is that in my 48 years in public service, those who were concerned to make a difference in the world, those who did the research, and wrote public policy, have consistently failed to understand the potential of family and whānau to contribute to individual wellbeing, and vice versa. How many times, as a Youth Aid Officer in the 1960’s, did I focus on an individual offender and attempted to change behaviour, without engaging whānau and whānau resources in the process? How many times, as a police officer, did I write-off family violence as “just another domestic dispute”, and in so doing, contribute to the continued abuse of children? How many times as a whānau member, did I realise that alcohol abuse was destroying a home, and continue to drink with the perpetrator on a Saturday night, without ever raising the issue? When Māori children were excluded from pre-school education by pākehā institutions, or from sports clubs, why did I prefer to write about it, rather than organise whānau to break down institutional barriers. How many times, as a senior manager in charge of Māori policy, did I focus on processes and programmes, rather than trust my instincts about the capacity of empowered whānau, to do a better job of advancing whānau wellbeing, than a government provider? Myself, and others like me, have consistently failed to harness the strength of whānau to address the problems that affected our collective wellbeing. And it is still happening.

Our shared history is one of Māori endeavouring to secure the right to conduct their own affairs, in their own way, for the benefit of whānau, hapū and iwi. The goal of whānau wellbeing is not new. Our history is littered with examples of failed Māori effort to negotiate arrangements with the state, and to take responsibility for their own affairs, in their own way. But we also have notable successes, such as Kohanga Reo, Kura Kaupapa and Māori health provision that is making a difference in Māori lives.
I am sure you will all join with me in celebrating the government’s decision to become a signatory to the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. In the context of this launch I note that Article 23 of the Declaration provides that indigenous peoples have the right to be actively involved in developing and determining social programmes affecting them, and as far as possible, to administer such programmes through their own institutions. While the Declaration may not have any legal force, there is now a moral imperative that cannot be ignored.

If the Families Commission is about anything, it is about encouraging practitioners, providers, policymakers and government agencies to 'think whānau'. Not because it is the politically correct thing to do, but because it works. We intend that the Commission’s whānau strategy will contribute to the ability of the public sector to 'think whānau', to explore the added value that whānau-centred policy brings, to listen respectfully to what our kaumatua tell us, and to contribute to the growing body of work around kaupapa Māori policy – policy which is developed by Māori, for Māori, and within Māori cultural understanding.

I want to thank the students of Taita College – Māori and Polynesian – for supporting us. That I am Chair of the Taita College Board is purely coincidental. My hope is that this occasion will become part of their ‘whānau memory bank’. When we affirm and encourage, when we love and support our young people in being Māori or being Samoan, or Tongan, we contribute to their pleasurable memories. To the Ngati Poneke Kuia and Kaumatua who have brought joy and pleasure into the lives of thousands – you have kindled the flame of manaakitanga, and reminded us that there is more pleasure in giving than receiving. Thank you for coming and sharing with us – thank you also to St John’s Ambulance for being on standby.

Let me make a personal observation. It disappoints me that while all of us present would, I believe, agree with the values and the supporting environment necessary for children and whānau to succeed, and the strength that lies in collective and shared enterprise, we continue having difficulty understanding that just as families and whānau flourish under those nurturing conditions, so do organisations. It is regrettable that almost daily we witness self-serving and mean-spirited behaviour within organisations, within the public service, and within political life that is not only highly dysfunctional, but produces outcomes which lack spirit, courage and imagination. We are quick to describe families as oppressed, and lacking in confidence, when within our own careers and professions, we continue to create organisations which exhibit identical characteristics. It occurs to me that if our social entities reflected the ideals that we proclaim for whānau and families, we would be a very safe and cohesive society indeed.

Jan, this may be the last public gathering you attend on behalf of the Families Commission. Without exception, we will miss you and the significant contribution you have made. I was privileged to co-present with you at an International Conference on Family Policy in San Francisco last year, and it was very clear that you were held in the utmost regard and respect within the international community of family researchers. Thank you for the opportunity to co-present, and to bask in your reflected glory. For a brief time, I was able to pretend that I was your equal. We are going to really miss you.

To those assembled, thank you for supporting this occasion. We look forward to working with you. No reira, ka mutu taku korero. Tena koutou , tena koutou, tena koutou katoa.