‘We don’t yet know the full scale of what happened’

An inquiry into historic abuse suffered by children in state care is being demanded by thousands of New Zealanders.

During his early teenage years, Eugene Ryder faced brutal treatment, like having a grown man break a rake over his back.

This was just one instance of the many forms of assault, termed as “corporal punishment” in that era, that the young boy endured while under state care in the 1980s. The perpetrator was a staff member at a residential facility for children, responsible for the well-being of the thousands of boys at the institution.

According to Eugene, the rake incident was not the worst of it.

“When it snapped, he retained the handle to continue the abuse – both physical and sexual.

“It was terrifying. Every time I knew he was on duty, I’d flee. The police would find me, and I’d be in tears, begging them not to return me there.”

‘THEY DESERVED BETTER’

This afternoon, Eugene and other former state wards and children’s home survivors will gather on the steps of Parliament. They will present a petition urging the Government to conduct a Commission of Inquiry into historical child abuse under state care between the 1940s and 1990s.

Supported by the Human Rights Commission, the ActionStation petition follows testimonies from over a thousand individuals who shared their ordeals in foster care, children’s homes, borstals, health camps, and asylums through a Confidential Listening and Advice Service.

The grim report by Service chair Judge Carolyn Henwood details harrowing experiences, including repeated assaults by foster parents, punitive electroconvulsive therapy, solitary confinement, beatings using fists, feet, and objects, and forced fights orchestrated by staff for entertainment.

Despite appeals from Judge Henwood and the Human Rights Commission for an inquiry and an official apology, Prime Minister Bill English has yet to commit to either.

The ActionStation petition was initiated by Anneleise Hall from Christchurch, a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. She will present the petition and an open letter, collectively attracting over 15,000 signatures, moved by the need for accountability and restructuring to safeguard future generations.

Anneleise, inspired by Judge Henwood’s report, emphasized the necessity of an inquiry to identify systemic flaws that allowed child victimization and drive reforms to prevent such atrocities from recurring.

“We must ensure these travesties never repeat,” she insisted.

“It’s astounding there isn’t an uproar outside Parliament demanding justice for those whose suffering was sponsored by taxpayers – children subjected to rape, violence, and fear. We’re talking about individuals left with lifelong injuries, both physical and mental, all suffered within state-funded institutions.

“We owe it to them to set things right – they deserved so much more.”

MORAL OUTRAGE

Approximately 100,000 children were placed in state-run facilities between the end of World War II and 1992. By 1980, 26 residential homes were established nationwide, including Epuni, Wesleydale, Hokio, Kohitere, and Owairaka.

Author and journalist David Cohen, who resided at Epuni Boys Home in Lower Hutt during his youth, attributed the surge in institutionalization of children to a moral outcry within New Zealand following the Parker-Hulme murders and the “Petone Incident,” where a teenager confessed to gatherings with peers for “sexual intentions” at a local milk bar.

“Milk bars in the Hutt were under intense scrutiny. The idea of adolescent misbehavior, especially concerning any sexual activity, alarmed many,” Cohen noted.

In 1954, the Mazengarb Report heightened concerns surrounding youth behavior and “sexual impropriety.” Communities were encouraged to monitor and report delinquent behavior. This intervention intensified with the post-WWII urbanization of Maori communities, leading to greater scrutiny and intervention by authorities, often for minor infractions like truancy.

Cohen, whose book Little Criminals delves into the history and workings of Epuni Boys Home, noted that many of these institutions initially operated under the supervision of “well-educated, altruistic individuals.” However, recruitment at these facilities lacked proper screening measures.

“One could transition from being a baker in Petone to a housemaster at Epuni almost overnight,” Cohen remarked.

“Additionally, these homes attracted predators, setting the stage for further complications.”

CULTURE OF VIOLENCE

For graduates of boys’ homes like Cohen and Eugene, violence became a pervasive norm once the doors closed behind them.

From ages 11 to 16, Eugene navigated a system that shuttled him between various boys’ homes, foster families, and a Salvation Army residence. In each supposedly secure environment, he encountered a landscape scarred by abuse, both physical and sexual.

“I escaped whenever possible. After pursuing my records through the Official Information Act, I stumbled upon a staff report about me. It depicted me as a runaway who disrupted peace and even assaulted a staff member. According to the report, the staff successfully handled me, and all was in order.

“Substitute ‘handled’ with ‘abused’… yes, that’s more accurate. This was how we, as boys, were introduced to adult concepts, not through education but through victimization.”

He”Often did the staff order the boys to ‘bash each other, because otherwise, they would get the bash from the adults,'” stated Cohen.

“Normal it was. Violence sorted out everything. We even anticipated it – the victims turned into victimizers. The more tough you seemed, the better off you were,” he recalled.

In Cohen’s memory, the environment at Epuni during the 1970s was akin to this, especially when the home catered to boys with court backgrounds.

“Certainly intimidating it was. Shelter-seeking boys abandoned by families mingled with members of the Mongrel Mob or those convicted of serious crimes,” Cohen reminisced.

“Back in those days, settling matters with fists was the norm for men. Boys from troubled homes, lacking male role models, all confined together – inevitably, physical force was a common occurrence. Living in the moment and accepting it was the way,” he reflected.

The damage was not merely physical for the boys; Judge Henwood’s report revealed severe neglect in their education during their time in the institutions. Cohen vividly remembered the scarcity of books at Epuni.

“At that age, I was an avid reader. But the absence of books made it dull and bewildering. Days were spent monotonously cleaning and peeling potatoes,” he described.

When questioned about the societal acceptance of such treatment towards young individuals, Cohen succinctly pointed out that New Zealand has a culture of violence.

“Punitive our culture is. We have a history of supporting public punishment for various groups. Even recently, a significant portion of the population advocated for the right to physically discipline their children,” he noted.

LIFE AFTER THE INSTITUTION

One of the fortunate ones was Cohen. Commencing his journalism career in his late teens, he benefited from an era where on-the-job training was prevalent. However, for many others, the institutions produced numerous individuals who couldn’t lead fulfilling lives.

For those who engaged with the Listening and Advice Service, the repercussions of abuse persisted long after they left state care. Often, they struggled with post-traumatic stress disorder, addiction battles, and criminal involvement.

Eugene’s story mirrors this pattern – upon leaving state care, he found himself behind bars for a four-year stretch.

However, a pivotal moment for Eugene was his father’s passing.

“When Dad died in Paremoremo Prison, I was in Mount Crawford, my brother in Mount Eden, and sisters in different facilities. We were a multi-generational institutionalized family. I decided it had to stop. That was the turning point,” he shared.

Aligning with Black Power, Eugene dedicated his life to supporting members in securing employment, remaining drug- and crime-free, and improving as parents. He credited his wife for helping him ‘learn new methods of handling anger.’

“I focus on positive outcomes. If the energy dedicated to crime went into supporting their children’s education or sports activities, the change in relationships would be immense,” Eugene emphasized.

“My purpose is to prevent individuals from ending up prematurely in prison or a grave,” he affirmed.

TIME TO STEP UP

Before further tragedies strip New Zealanders of their liberties, presenter Anneleise emphasized the critical need for an inquiry.

“The full extent of these experiences and how many lives they’ve affected remains unknown. Implementing new procedures is crucial; otherwise, future generations will suffer,” Anneleise stressed.

Backing the call for an inquiry, Cohen pointed out the positive outcomes that followed investigations into similar abuses in countries like Australia, Canada, and Ireland.

Expressing doubt about a potential inquiry, Eugene believed it was the duty of communities to keep children safe and minimize state intervention whenever feasible.

“When the Ministry for Vulnerable Children was set up, iwi groups offered to collaborate to ensure children found safe homes,” Eugene recalled.

“Why wait for CYFS to intervene? If you notice a struggling family, offer assistance. Our iwi possess resources to guarantee children are cared for. Our communities must step up, support families, and replace state intervention,” Eugene urged.