Honouring care-experienced mokopuna Māori: creating conditions for wellbeing

ABSTRACT

The cumulation of structural violence and wilful harm perpetuated by the state care system in Aotearoa has created a climate for change and calls for the establishment of a new system of care. Mokopuna Māori who have lived through the care system are being left out of this conversation. For transformational change to occur, there must be a focus on honouring these experiences and upholding mokopuna rights. This article presents Kaupapa Māori research undertaken by a mokopuna Māori with the lived experience of state care, alongside established Kaupapa Māori researchers. Literature containing the voices of care-experienced mokopuna Māori was reviewed to explore what conditions exist and are needed to uphold wellbeing. Mokopuna rights, stability, relationships and identity were determined to be important to wellbeing. A rights-based perspective makes it clear that the Crown must honour the rights and expertise of care-experienced mokopuna if new systems of care are to be successful.

Introduction

The state care system in Aotearoa has a long track record of harming mokopuna Māori¹ (Stanley 2016a, 2016b; Kaiwai et al. 2020). These violent acts of harm are a result of the settler colonial logics on which the care system was built, including Western ideas about family and childhood that extend from the early colonial efforts that sought to undermine Māori social and familial structures (Pihama et al. 2003). The care system itself has undergone many changes over the years but what has prevailed through every iteration is the colonial assumption that the state knows how to better care for children than Māori do (Kaiwai et al. 2020).

One of the ways colonialism operates preceding mokopuna entering state care is through intergenerational structural violence. This violence includes land theft and the intentional erosion of Māori societal structures, and the subsequent creation of intergenerational poverty. This, along with the violent suppression of Māori ways of being and knowing, has created huge amounts of intergenerational trauma for Māori and dictates our positioning on the margins of contemporary society (Smith 2006; Pihama et al. 2014). Furthermore, when mokopuna are removed from whānau (family), it is assumed that the state is better placed to make decisions about and look after mokopuna, despite findings showing otherwise (Office of the Children’s Commissioner [OCC] 2015). In fact, the state’s enactment of structural violence towards mokopuna once they enter care is widely documented (Stanley 2016a, 2016b; Kaiwai et al. 2020; Ministry for Children 2022). This has detrimental impacts on health outcomes for care-experienced mokopuna, including by limiting access to social determinants of health such as social capital and education (Ministry of Social Development 2015; Treasury 2015; Atwool 2016). State care, therefore, perpetuates structural violence created and maintained by colonialism.

In 1988, the Ministerial Advisory Committee on a Māori Perspective for the Department of Social Welfare (1988) wrote a report entitled Puao-Te-Ata-Tu. The report called out the institutional racism of the Department, detailing the ways in which the system does not work for Māori. It made recommendations of how to address this, and yet, over thirty years later, the institutional racism of state care endures. A ‘reformation’ of the system which sought to place children at the centre saw the establishment of the Ministry for Children in 2017. However, this overhaul was largely unsuccessful, which perhaps is no surprise given that much of the surrounding policy debates still wielded a deficit-based, colonial view of children (Tolley 2017). In 2019, a highly-publicised attempted removal of a newborn baby from their mother brought the persisting violence of the system into mainstream media (Reid 2019), prompting several inquiries into the Ministry for Children, including an internal review (Ministry for Children 2019; Kaiwai et al. 2020; OCC 2020; Ombudsman 2020). A subsequent Waitangi Tribunal (2021) hearing found that the disparities between Māori and non-Māori within the care system ‘are a consequence of the Crown’s intrusion into the rangatira [self-determination] of Māori over kāinga [home]’ (p. xv). The current climate is characterised by Māori community leaders and child advocacy groups calling for the state to devolve power to Māori for the caring of mokopuna. The Ministry for Children itself (2021) has indicated plans to move towards a locally-led, centrally-enabled way of working.

While discussions around change are necessary, it is concerning that those with care experience are being left out of the conversation. Mokopuna Māori are given no meaningful platform to voice our knowledge or enact our right to self-determination over the creation of a system of care. Additionally, through re-interpretation and re-presentation, researchers too, marginalise mokopuna voices. This offence, a process we term ‘adulteration’, embodies the colonial narrative that views children as passive subjects rather than autonomous beings. Indeed, the undermining of children’s agency taints state care systems beyond Aotearoa (see for example, Independent Care Review 2020). It is a further indictment that it is Indigenous children worldwide who have been subjected to wilful, ongoing harm by settler colonial states.

To highlight these issues, the purpose of this research was to actively seek out the voices of care-experienced mokopuna Māori through a review of unadulterated literature, to explore what conditions are needed to support wellbeing.

Methods

This research took a rights-based approach to honour mokopuna Māori experiences and was centred within a Kaupapa Māori methodological space. Kaupapa Māori calls attention to systems of power which create and maintain inequities affecting Māori across generations (Reid and Robson 2007). Inherent to Kaupapa Māori is the commitment to undertaking research for transformational change (Pihama 2011; Curtis 2016), which is certainly relevant to the area of state care. Kaupapa Māori is also fluid and relational by nature and provides a space for Māori researchers to determine our own direction and priorities.

I, Tahirah Moton (Ngāti Maniapoto), conducted this research as part of my Public Health Honours degree with support from Māori academics and Kaupapa Māori researchers Sarah-Jane Paine (Tūhoe) and Karen Wright (Ngāi Tahu). I come to this research with the lived experience of state care. In this article, I draw on my own experiences, recognising that this itself is an authoritative source of knowledge. This is consistent with our kaupapa of honouring mokopuna Māori experiences.

Oranga Mokopuna was used as our research framework. King et al. (2018) developed Oranga Mokopuna to contextualise Kaupapa Māori principles within the space of mokopuna health and wellbeing, to specifically disrupt Western notions of human rights which foreground individualism and universalism. King et al. state that ‘only once tangata whenua rights for Māori are realised can international human rights instruments be usefully applied’ (2018, p. 188). Oranga Mokopuna positions mokopuna Māori at the centre of the model with explicit connections to the various sites in which their rights are affirmed. This centring of mokopuna rights remained essential throughout our research process.

The Ngā Poutama Whetū model developed by Hapeta et al. (2019) was used to structure the literature review. The model conceptualises the research process as a poutama, or staircase, recalling the heavenly ascent of Tāne to retrieve ngā kete o mātauranga (the baskets of knowledge). As a Kaupapa Māori model, Ngā Poutama Whetū privileges Indigenous worldviews and forms of knowledge and is iterative in nature. This allowed us to move between steps with fluidity to centre mokopuna Māori in contrast to the stricter linearity of Western research. Table 1 includes a brief outline of each step as explained by Hapeta et al. (2019) and how we applied the model within our own research process.

Table 1.

Ngā Poutama Whetū research process.

Kaupapa Research parameters are established	The decision was made to privilege multiple forms of knowledge that include the experiences of mokopuna Māori in care, including non-academic literature.
Tino rangatiratanga Eligibility of literature is established based on alignment with kaupapa	An electronic database search of Medline, Scopus, PsychInfo, ProQuest and Web of Science, and an environmental scan of relevant government and organisational websites was conducted using the search terms Māori, state care, care-experienced, foster care, out-of-home care, kinship care, residential care, care and protection. Literature and other content were evaluated and eligible for inclusion if containing the experiences of those who are Māori, mokopuna, and care-experienced. Secondary screening criteria were then applied to ensure data aligned with our kaupapa including being strengths-based4, having a link to wellbeing, and that mokopuna voices were minimally or un-adulterated.
Ako Literature is appraised based on the determined criteria	Six pieces of literature, out of 75 that were screened, met the primary inclusion criteria. All six were grey literature.
Taonga tuku iho Literature to take forward is confirmed	The six pieces of literature were assessed against the secondary criteria. Three were determined to meet the secondary criteria.
Kia piki i ngā raruraru The mediums of literature considered valid for inclusion are clarified	The decision to include academic and grey literature was reaffirmed.
Whānau Connections are made between pieces of literature	Data were extracted from included texts/videos and analysed. Key concepts and codes were recorded and from these, themes constructed.
Kaupapa The research kaupapa is revisited	The included literature was considered in relation to wider knowledgebase and social context.

Results

Seventy-five pieces of literature were identified through the search of databases and websites, six included for full text review, and three eligible for inclusion in this review. Two were video profiles of care-experienced mokopuna (VOYCE 2017a, 2017b), while the third was a monitoring report into Ministry for Children care and protection secure residences (OCC 2019). The VOYCE² videos each featured a mokopuna speaking about their experiences in care, including in relation to being Māori. The OCC report included 52 children and young people in care and protection residences, 75% of whom were Māori. The report was determined to contain a low degree of adulteration of mokopuna voices: the adult researchers were responsible for researching and writing the report, so their positionality likely influenced the presentation of mokopuna experiences, but this was perceived to be done in a way that was true to what the mokopuna said. For example, there was minimal researcher interpretation of mokopuna experiences and thus fewer chances for misinterpretation. The VOYCE videos were clips of mokopuna speaking about their experiences (as opposed to their stories being re-presented by adult researchers) and thus were perceived to be unadulterated.

Mokopuna spoke about their experiences of care, including what was working well and things that need to change. Four themes were constructed from the data: stability, relationships, identity, and rights.

Stability

In all three included items, mokopuna spoke about stability, either directly, or by describing mechanisms that support or compromise stability. Mokopuna discussed how frequent placement disruptions are antithetical to stability, and by extension, to a sense of belonging. One mokopuna spoke about the dehumanising effect of this instability and displacement:

I went to so many different schools. I lived in so many different towns. It’s really hard to fit in when, you know, the space that you’re supposed to feel comfortable is constantly changing. The faces that are there to protect you are constantly changing. When you feel like you don’t belong and when you’re constantly shunted from pillar to post, you just, you feel, less than a human being. (VOYCE 2017a)

The stability of an environment concerns not only the length of time a mokopuna spends in a placement – it is also determined by how mokopuna experience these placements, such as whether they feel in control. Mokopuna in the OCC report (2019) expressed how the institutional setting of secured residences was ‘hard’ due to poor physical conditions and a lack of freedom and independence. This created a sense of instability. One mokopuna described the lack of self-determination they experienced:

I reckon we need more things to do … and better programmes. And what we want to do, not just what staff want us to do. (OCC 2019, p. 18)

Mokopuna also described elements of care that created and supported stability. One mokopuna spoke about how their whāngai³ experience enabled them to keep their whakapapa (intergenerational/genealogical relationships) with their parents from birth, as well as with their parents who raised them. More than just the act of physically being in one place, whāngai allowed them to grow up in a stable environment characterised by opportunities of growth and wellbeing, including being able to attend university.

I was very fortunate to have parents and have the people that I did who were able to pave the way for and create the opportunities – every opportunity that I’ve ever needed. (VOYCE 2017b)

Identity

In all three items, mokopuna spoke about identity in relation to te ao Māori (the Māori world). In the VOYCE videos, the two mokopuna expressed how whāngai and mentorship, respectively, provided important connections with te ao Māori and as such were essential in the shaping of their identities. One mokopuna spoke about how their journey in care started with having ‘no sense of self at all’ (VOYCE 2017a). They were then able to nurture their relationship with te ao Māori with the guidance of a teacher and mentor. This mokopuna described having a connection to Māori culture as providing direction and grounding:

That’s one of the issues I see with people in care especially. They turn to drugs, they turn to alcohol, because there’s no connection to nothing … and for me, I was lucky that my culture gave me that [connection]. (VOYCE 2017a)

A connection to te ao Māori was also mentioned in the OCC report. Some mokopuna were able to engage with elements of te ao Māori through the care system and this was a way to develop their identities. For example, some of the residences provided opportunities for mokopuna to learn about their whakapapa. However, not all mokopuna enjoyed these activities, and spoke about feeling a lack of connection to te ao Māori. The reason for this was attributed to ‘negative experiences earlier in their lives’ (OCC 2019, p. 35).

Mokopuna also discussed their identity in relation to their passions and aspirations, and how this can change while in care. For example, one mokopuna spoke how being in residential care had a negative impact on their sense of self:

I don’t really like music anymore, cause I’m a completely different person. I like fighting. (OCC 2019, p. 16)

Relationships

Relationships for mokopuna in care are complex and multiple. These include familial relationships, as well as relationships with the adults in various professional roles who mokopuna encounter in care. The people that surround mokopuna can play a vital role in determining to the extent to which mokopuna feel like they belong.

Mokopuna in all three items talked about the quality of these various relationships. They described good relationships with residential staff and social workers as being underpinned by fairness, patience, presence, encouragement, and integrity, and where their voices were valued. The OCC report (2019) identified the potential that can arise out of positive relationships between mokopuna and residential staff, such as the one described by a mokopuna here:

I’ve had so many staff that have impacted on my life in a huge way, to the point where I feel sometimes they saved me. (OCC 2019, p. 27)

Mokopuna also described their experiences of negative relationships with residential staff and social workers. These adults can be scary, inconsistent, insensitive, and absent (OCC 2019). For example, residential staff can act in ways that are harmful to mokopuna and that recreate the circumstances that lead to mokopuna being uplifted in the first place. Furthermore, the constant changing of social workers prevents mokopuna from being able to form meaningful relationships with the adults whose job it is to care for them (VOYCE 2017b). Mokopuna spoke about being let down by adults who do not keep in contact or follow through with commitments:

He’s cool, [staff member], but he’s hardly around, he’s always busy. And when he says he’s coming back to you, he never comes back. (OCC 2019, p. 27)

Mokopuna spoke about sibling relationships. One mokopuna described being able to access many more opportunities than their sister, with this differential access having a significant impact on their lives (VOYCE 2017b). Mokopuna also spoke of being put into different placements from their siblings. For example, one mokopuna mentioned that nothing was being done by the Ministry for Children to reconnect them with their sister whom they had been separated from (OCC 2019).

Relationships with wider whānau were often complex. Some mokopuna felt disconnected: ‘I know I can use the phone, but I have no one to call’ (OCC 2019, p. 32). Additionally, mokopuna acknowledged that while their relationships with whānau may be fraught, being separated is never easy. One mokopuna spoke about the difficulty of being uplifted from their mother:

I knew that the things that were happening might not have been good, but I mean let’s not forget that from day one that’s what I knew. So that everything that was happening in that environment it was normal to me. That was my place that I belonged, and these were the people that I knew. (VOYCE 2017a)

This shows that familial and familiar relationships can connect mokopuna to a sense of belonging. These ties can mean that some mokopuna feel like they have a responsibility to look after their family despite having strained relationships with them (OCC 2019). Importantly, other mokopuna spoke about not wanting to reconnect with their whānau (OCC 2019). Relationships between mokopuna and their families were not always straightforward – something that should be acknowledged and respected.

Rights

There was diversity in the way mokopuna spoke about their rights. Often, there was an innate orientation towards rights, with mokopuna staunchly expressing their rights to be trusted and to freedom (OCC 2019), and the right to their culture:

If you’re in care, you have every right to have culture in your life. Definitely just asking your social worker about how they can go about involving culture into your life, and they cannot say no to you. (VOYCE 2017a)

Mokopuna also discussed times when their rights were breached. For example, they spoke about being excluded and undervalued in decision-making processes such as Family Group Conferences. The way mokopuna spoke about these experiences indicated an understanding that this exclusion was a breach of their rights. This is evident in the following quote where a mokopuna describes being denied their right to self-determination:

It was very alien to me. They weren’t really consulting me on my opinions or my beliefs or what I wanted, it was all adult talk. (VOYCE 2017b)

Importantly, in addition to breaches of mokopuna rights, there was also evidence of the state not sufficiently informing mokopuna about their rights in the first place and ensuring they understood them. When explicitly prompted to speak about their rights in the OCC report (2019), mokopuna were not always sure of what this entailed:

I want to have rights … I know what my rights are, but I just don’t get what they mean. (p. 22)

The authors of the OCC report noted that this failure to inform mokopuna of their rights often led to them not understanding, forgetting the details, or getting mixed up between rules and rights:

You’re allowed to do this and not this … I don’t remember them telling me about my rights. (OCC 2019, p. 22)

Discussion

This review suggested that mokopuna Māori consider stability, identity, relationships and rights as important for a system of care. Furthermore, when viewed from a rights-based perspective, we see that mokopuna indeed have the right to these things, and that the fulfilment of these rights supports wellbeing. Oranga Mokopuna (King et al. 2018) guides us to take such a perspective. From this, we can see that these rights are affirmed by Te Tiriti o Waitangi, under which mokopuna have the right to equity and to self-determination over our wellbeing (King et al. 2018). Mokopuna rights are also affirmed by international human rights instruments such as the United Nations Convention of the Rights of the Child which specifies that children have the right to ‘an adequate standard of living’ (United Nations 1989). Furthermore, the Ministry for Children itself acknowledges the rights of mokopuna, with these rights enshrined in legislation (Oranga Tamariki National Care Standards and Related Matters Regulations 2018).

The rights of mokopuna in care are evidently well-documented and unambiguous and mokopuna clearly want to be heard in decision-making – something children in care systems around the world identify as important (Independent Care Review 2020). Yet mokopuna rights are constantly breached. For example, frequent placement disruptions and the subsequent instability breaches our human rights, to detrimental effect. Having a stable place to live is considered a cornerstone of positive identity construction and the formation of healthy trusting relationships (Ujang and Zakariya 2015). Furthermore, having such a place can serve as a source of normality, security, and refuge from the challenges mokopuna are likely to be facing (Emond 2014; Natalier and Johnson 2015). The failure to meet such rights (and indeed the failure to inform mokopuna of their rights in the first place) illustrates the state’s active participation in the harming of mokopuna.

The failure to uphold mokopuna rights is deeply embedded within oppressive colonial belief systems which view Indigenous children as passive subjects incapable of making safe decisions about their care and wellbeing. Butler and Williamson (1996) argue that the contemporary approach to child involvement in care and protection matters still operates on the deficit model of childhood, viewing children as inherently inferior to adults. They are seen as ‘becoming’ rather than ‘being’ (Oswell 2013). If researchers and agencies hold such views, the questions they ask mokopuna are similarly minimising, which creates the opportunity for adulteration both in research and in the care system itself. This silencing of mokopuna is an act of epistemic violence, as their knowledge – attained through lived experience of the care system – is purposely ignored and under-valued. This is one act of harm in a long series of structural violence perpetuated by the state towards mokopuna Māori and must be rectified. The value of Oranga Mokopuna as a research framework is evident. It does not let us ignore mokopuna experiences. In fact, it requires prioritising mokopuna by calling attention to the rights they have and positioning them as leaders of not only the future, but of today. A rights-based approach demands that the Crown and its agencies rectify their treatment of mokopuna and begin to uphold mokopuna rights. Oranga Mokopuna also provides an important opportunity to conceptualise fulfilment of mokopuna rights as being necessary for wellbeing. Tied to wellbeing is a sense of belonging, with the literature indicating that mokopuna may feel like they belong when their rights to a stable environment, a strong sense of identity, and positive relationships, are upheld.

There has been much Indigenous theorising about practices that affirm a sense of belonging and wellbeing for mokopuna, locating these processes within te ao Māori (Ritchie and Rau 2010; Rau and Ritchie 2011; Pihama et al. 2015; Rameka 2018; Williams et al. 2019; Fitzmaurice 2020). One key idea that arises from this scholarship is the locating of mokopuna within an ecosystem of relationships, including relationships with whenua (land) and environment, with whānau and tūpuna (ancestors), and with themselves. These relationships extend across time and space (Rameka 2018; Burgess et al. 2021). It is with connection to all these entities that a sense of belonging can be fostered for mokopuna and their wellbeing. The concepts of place, being in relation with land, and tūrangawaewae (having a place to stand) are all important parts of this (Rau and Ritchie 2011; Rameka 2018). For mokopuna in care, the security in knowing that you belong comes from these relationships. Such security is affirming of identity (Ritchie and Rau 2010). It creates an anchor and a sense of stability – it is the realisation of tūrangawaewae (Rau and Ritchie 2011). Furthermore, mokopuna have the tangata whenua right to all these things. Thus, relationships, identity, stability, and rights are all intertwined within the concept of belonging.

This conceptualisation resonates with my (Tahirah) own experiences of care. The feeling of belonging is of the utmost importance. Being in care is not easy. Even for me – who had a ‘good’ time in care relative to my care-experienced whanaunga (relations) – belonging was something I struggled with. It was not, and is not, something that the state prioritised. Clearly, state care is characterised by various mechanisms that work to make mokopuna feel displaced, including a loss of connection to whānau, to familiarity, and to place. These are relationships that colonialism seeks to erode, by disregarding the status of Māori, and of mokopuna, as tangata whenua – as people of the land. Colonialism seeks to sever relationships with place, with land, and with all that it represents. For mokopuna in care, this displacement is felt viscerally. It is initially felt through the intergenerational trauma and circumstances leading up to entering care. It is then reinforced with every placement disruption, every change in social worker, and every breach of rights. Furthermore, it is an active continuation of the colonial mechanisms that sought (and seek) to displace Māori from our whenua. This displacement from whenua – as the mokopuna in the literature highlighted – is never just a physical displacement: ‘we were losing sight of everything we knew’ (VOYCE 2017a). With such forceful and severe displacement, and with no tikanga in place to safeguard and provide rebalancing, feelings of belonging are near impossible. Thus, to truly realise wellbeing for mokopuna, a primary condition that needs to be achieved is ensuring mokopuna feel like they belong. Providing stability, a strong sense of identity, good relationships surrounding mokopuna, and the upholding of rights, are possible ways to do this.

Strengths and limitations

The centring of mokopuna experiences is a strength of this research and was enabled through Kaupapa Māori. This shaped the research process, informing where literature was sought, what was eligible for inclusion and subsequently, how included items were analysed. Picking up on the whakaaro of care-experienced mokopuna Māori was also enabled by my (Tahirah) own positionality. It enabled me to understand the ideas in the literature at an intimate level as I was perhaps more attuned to mokopuna Māori voices given my insider status within this community, though also noting my positioning represents only one experience of care. The subjectivity of my positioning will have undoubtedly affected how I interpreted the ideas of other mokopuna, especially given the use of secondary data meant that I was a level removed from hearing mokopuna directly.

A limitation of this research is that it included only three items for review. The decision to focus solely on mokopuna experiences of state care likely contributed to this small sample. However, it is likely that this accurately reflects the scarcity of literature containing (and respecting) the experiences of mokopuna Māori in care. It should also be recognised that the selective screening process has resulted in only the inclusion of knowledge that aligns closely with the research kaupapa. Nevertheless, while this research provides an idea of what mokopuna think about the conditions needed to support wellbeing, it is by no means exhaustive nor reflective of all experiences.

Tāonga tuku iho – future directions

Much research has already been conducted to identify the causal pathways that link colonisation and structural violence to the harms of societal systems (including the state care system) in Aotearoa and indeed internationally. Unangax^ scholar Tuck (2009) describes this literature as ‘damaged-centred research’: research that focuses on loss and pain and connects current social realities for Indigenous communities to our historical and political context. While this scholarship does serve a purpose, limiting ourselves to this type of research risks essentialising Indigenous communities or reducing us down to merely products of our oppression. Tuck suggests that it may be time to turn to discourses of desire, wisdom, and hope (2009).

The work that is needed now to support wellbeing for mokopuna is that which is hopeful and aspirational; efforts that purposely seek to centre and privilege mokopuna experiences and imagination. Jackson (2013) describes the ethic of imagination as ‘lead[ing] us from the observation of a phenomenon to the description and understanding of the consequences of that phenomena’ (p. 61). Jackson (2013) says that ethical research recognises the importance of contributing to transformational change, and to make such contributions, we must be courageous enough to take leaps of poetic imagination. Change will not occur if our thinking is confined to the boundaries of care created by the colonial system, and thus privileging the unfettered imagination of mokopuna is what will prove to be rewarding. The use of Indigenous research methodologies that are committed to transformation can be a way to enter this realm of imagination.

Honouring mokopuna Māori imagination and rights is critical within Aotearoa’s changing care and protection landscape. Hierarchies of power at the intersection of ethnicity and age must be confronted with a commitment to transformational change. Any system that eventuates will not be safe, let alone come close to being conducive to wellbeing, if it is not predicated on the deep knowledge of care-experienced mokopuna. Decision-makers in this space would do well to pay attention to this expertise.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).