Day of Reflection

The National government has set aside Wednesday, 12 November, as a day to reflect on the findings of the Abuse in Care Royal Commission of Inquiry. A time to consider the horrific truth that thousands of New Zealanders were raped, abused and tortured while in the care of the State and/or faith-based institutions.  

The idea of a day to remember the atrocities of the past is a good one. Taking time to reflect on the mistakes made and the scale of the harm done is a strong motivator to prevent history from repeating itself. Every year, young and old gather together on Anzac Day not just to honour the surviving war veterans but to remember, 'lest we forget' to warn the next generations of the horrors of war.

At the conclusion of the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, the judge chairing the inquiry, Coral Shaw, described the scale of abuse as a “national disgrace and shame” and urged New Zealand to heed the report to ensure it never happens again. Unfortunately, as columnist Verity Johnson rightly observed in her opinion piece last month, “it didn’t permeate properly into public consciousness.” In a world of information overload, it is perhaps easier to look away or to focus on issues abroad than to confront our own sins.

It is not surprising, therefore, that our care systems continue to hurt our most vulnerable. Oranga Tamariki’s latest report shows a rise in sexual and emotional abuse numbers. Abuse thrives in the dark, in secrecy: when survivors are silenced by misplaced shame and crimes are hidden by the misuse of power. The Royal Commission of Inquiry made it clear that the cover-ups and minimisation of abuse by State and faith-based institutions is what allowed abuse to flourish. Bringing the issue into the light signals an intentional change from this dark history. Survivors, therefore, were heartened by Prime Minister Christopher Luxon’s announcement a year ago that there would be a National Remembrance Day to acknowledge the scale of abuse in care that has occurred.

But what did New Zealand's government then do? It quietly reduced what many assumed would be an annual public event to a one-off day of reflection, consisting mostly of small private gatherings of survivors.

Some survivors were asked by the government how they would like to commemorate this day. Understandably, many wanted the opportunity to be with those abused in the same context as themselves to find connection and support. Funding was therefore made available, but survivor groups were expected to gain legal entity status, apply and plan their gatherings in just a few months. As of November 4, 65 gatherings had received funding, with two thirds of them being private events. The only events open to all survivors and the public in the whole of the South Island are a couple of small gatherings with a limited advertising budget, being held in Christchurch.  This leaves hundreds, if not thousands, of survivors alone with no event to attend with their family and friends in their own region on the day of reflection. Many of these people didn’t have the resources or energy to organise this for themselves. It also leaves the public largely excluded. Most New Zealanders will probably just head to work on November 12, unaware that the day of reflection is even happening.

Funding survivors to have bespoke, private gatherings to support one another on what will be a difficult day for many of them is, at its core, a good idea. The real problem is that this shouldn’t have abdicated the State or faith-based organisations of their responsibility to fund, organise and promote large, well-advertised events aimed at the public, and to do so every year.

Imagine if returned soldiers and those who lost their lives at war were never acknowledged, and if the horrors of war were never understood by society? What if churches and councils and the local community didn't help get ANZAC day commemoration events off the ground, and if the government didn't back it with a public holiday? Imagine if soldiers were just told that they could have a bit of funding for one year to organise their own gathering to support one another, and that was it? Hundreds of thousands of New Zealanders have been to war, just as hundreds of thousands are estimated to have been traumatised in care.

Survivors of abuse in care are similarly wounded, many are tired and battling challenges such as chronic PTSD, poverty and addictions after their abuse changed their lives for the worse. They endured re-traumatisation to tell their stories to the Royal Commission, believing it would be for the greater good. They are angry and hurt after seeing little accountability for their abusers and after being offered financial redress that doesn't come close to restoring what their abuse took from them. They are upset that the Royal Commission's recommendation for an independent redress body was rejected and that there seems to be little or no progress on law reform or the setting up of a Care Safe Agency.

Unsurprisingly, some survivors are not interested in this 'national day of reflection for survivors’. They don't feel valued by being told they have to roll out the red carpet for themselves. Furthermore, they don't need reminding of what happened to them; many are still desperately searching for a way to forget. They don't gain anything by reflecting on how disappointing their redress has been.

This should be an annual day of remembrance for the public, where survivors are honoured and everyone else is asked to remember what happened to them. It is the abusers and their enablers who should be reflecting on their actions and what changes are needed. It is the state and faith-based organisations that should be thinking about how poorly they treated those victims who spoke up and dared to ask for justice. Those leading our current care systems should also be sitting up and taking notice of what happens if they fail to keep people safe. All who live in this country and are blind to this dark part of New Zealand's history need to learn the truth. It is the public that needs to know how this abuse occurred and is still occurring, and to learn about its impacts.

Society has a moral responsibility to remember, acknowledge the harm done, and commit to supporting survivors while preventing future abuse. An annual day of remembrance could have helped guide us toward a safer country for all. Allowing these truths to fade from public memory dishonours survivors and wastes a vital chance to reinforce the importance of safeguarding. Erica Stanford said herself, “A lot of survivors have said to me their number one concern is that they don’t want to have what happened to them happen to anyone else.” An annual public day of remembrance would’ve gone a long way towards achieving this.  Instead, it seems survivors are again getting a kick in the guts because yet another opportunity for positive change is being thrown away.