Te tūkino me te whakahapa i roto i ngā whakaritenga tūāpapa ā-whakapono
Abuse and neglect in faith-based care settings

508. Faith-based institutions played a large role in providing care during the Inquiry period. Abuse in faith-based care was extensive and included sexual, physical, psychological, emotional, spiritual, and neglect. Survivors also experienced racism, ableism, disablism and discrimination based on gender and sexual orientation. Survivors of abuse in faith-based care described positions of religious power being used to dominate them, and religion being used as a mechanism to manipulate and control. Survivors often experienced multiple forms of abuse and neglect.

509. Survivors were abused by male and female care providers including clergy, religious leaders, lay staff, volunteers and foster parents. Survivors were also abused by their peers including classmates and other students, fellow care residents and foster siblings.

510. Many survivors did not know at the time what they were experiencing was abuse or how serious the abuse was. Due to barriers to disclosure and poor recordkeeping, the true nature and extent of abuse in faith-based care is unlikely to ever be known.

511. Survivors experienced abuse in faith-based care in residential and non-residential settings, including care homes, foster care and adoption, pastoral care, as well as in educational institutions including schools, seminaries and institutes of religious formation. Many experienced abuse in more than one faith-based care setting.

512. Some faith-based settings had significant crossover or interaction with non-faith settings, such as social welfare and youth justice residences, and disability and mental health institutions that had visits from priests, who then abused children in these locations, or took them elsewhere. This meant that while these survivors were not in a faith-based institution, they still experienced abuse within a form of pastoral care.

513. In many instances, others were aware of, or even facilitated, abuse and neglect, but failed to take appropriate action. Children and young people who disclosed abuse were often disbelieved or punished. The status and perceived trustworthiness of clergy and religious leaders in society played a crucial role in people not believing survivors or intervening in abuse.

514. Of the faiths that were investigated by the Inquiry, the Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, Anglican and The Salvation Army Churches have acknowledged the abuse and harm that has been perpetrated within their institutions as being unacceptable.[715] Gloriavale Christian Community has acknowledged there has been intergenerational sexual abuse in that community, and that children were physically abused there.[716]

Te tūkino i roto in ngā whakaritenga taurimatanga pīhopa
Abuse in pastoral care

515. Within the context of this Inquiry, pastoral care describes the care relationship between a person who has been conferred power and authority by a faith-based institution and a child or vulnerable adult in care. Not all people receiving pastoral care are considered to be in care of the faith-based institution. Where such a relationship is connected to the institution’s work, or is enabled through the institution’s conferral of authority, the child or adult in care could properly be described as being in the care of the faith-based institution.[717]

516. The physical settings where pastoral care occurs are therefore very broad including “youth group activities (including day trips and camps); Bible study groups; Sunday school or children’s church activities; day trips and errands; pastoral or spiritual direction, mentoring, training or counsel in groups or individually (including visiting congregation/faith community members in their homes, outside the institution’s grounds, or elsewhere)”.[718]

517. The influence that faith-based or religious leaders have over those in their care is often significant, and they are often sought out for guidance in religious or spiritual belief and life choices. As such, pastoral care relationships are usually characterised by “trust and vulnerability”.[719] Clergy and religious leaders often became privy to the most personal and intimate information for individuals and their families, which created opportunities for further abuse.

518. The Inquiry heard from survivors who suffered sexual, emotional, and psychological abuse by males in pastoral care positions. This frequently co-occurred with psychological, spiritual or religious abuse. Survivors told the Inquiry how they were abused when they were most at risk, including: where there was a significant age difference between them and their abuser; where they were in poor emotional states and / or where there was unequal power dynamic between them and their abuser.

519. For many survivors, sexual abuse occurred in different locations including churches, schools, community locations, vehicles, and private homes. Often the abuse happened when the survivor and abuser were on their own but sometimes others were present.

520. Survivors discussed abuse in pastoral care that occurred both as children and adults. Abuse for adults frequently occurred within pastoral or mentoring relationships, when survivors were experiencing a difficult period in their life, or when they were in a training programme such as a seminary.

I rite tonu te kitea o te whakawaiwai, te taitōkai me te tūkinotanga ā‑wairua
Grooming, sexual abuse and spiritual abuse often co-occurred

521. Sexual abuse in pastoral care often involved grooming, through which trusting relationships were developed between abusers and a child, young person or adult and their whānau or support network. This grooming largely occurred through, and was enabled by, the provision of religious teaching and spiritual guidance. Grooming within pastoral care was therefore also spiritual and religious abuse, occurring through the unequal power dynamic within these relationships. Abusers who abused under this authority, and teachings that protected them from scrutiny, were spiritually harming their victims. This had a profound impact on survivors’ experiences of sexual abuse and what it meant within their wider life.

522. Pastoral relationships that involved grooming were frequently enabled by the abuser’s standing within the community and the trust afforded to them by a child, young person or adult in care and their whānau or support network, as well as the influence the abuser had over the child, young person or adult’s lives.[720] Some people viewed churches, clergy or religious leaders, as being literally closer to God, which cemented their authority.[721] Pākehā survivor Dion Martin, who was sexually abused while training in a Catholic seminary, told the Inquiry: “I would never refuse a priest. In my mind, whatever a priest said was correct.”[722] Survivor Christopher Longhurst, who was sexually abused during his interview for the seminary, described his abuser in a similar way:

“[He] has authority and influence and power. He’s like my prospective – it’s more than an employer. He’s the guy who will make the recommendation to the bishop for me to go into the seminary. This is my dream … you know, this is my next step in life after high school.”[723]

523. Many whānau felt it was a good thing if people in religious ministry took an interest in their children or young person or adult and spiritually mentored them. Pākehā survivor Ian Werder was sexually abused by the priest assistant, Father Bernard King, from the age of 7 to 13 years old. He said the priest:

“... would tell my parents that he was going in to hear my prayers. While in my room he would play with me and eventually have penetrative sex ... When I raised it with my parents that I did not like the way Father King heard my prayers, they responded that it was an honour for Father King to want to hear my prayers. When I told my parents about it again in 1997, they remembered this conversation. My father was very angry and wanted to go and have it out with Father King. They had clearly misunderstood what I said in the 1960s”[724]

524. Religious teaching and rituals could be used to groom and control survivors. In the 1970s, Ms OC, told the Inquiry she was sexually abused, including rape, kissing and groping, by an Anglican priest. She described his controlling behaviour saying: “[he] would withhold communion bread from me when he was unhappy with me.”[725]

525. Often, grooming and abuse occurred during moments in survivors’ lives when they had sought pastoral care. Māori survivor Desmond Adams (Ngāpuhi) was befriended by his local Catholic parish priest while Desmond’s mother was dying. The priest went on to sexually abuse Desmond when he was 14 years old, at church and in his home. On one occasion, when Desmond was home alone while his grandmother and aunty attended a tangi, the priest went to his house and raped him. Desmond said:

“This was a trusted man in a position who took advantage of a 14-year-old boy. This was six months after my mother passed away. Why did men do this to me? I felt like I had some sign on my head that said, ‘help yourself’. I think I got to a point where I just normalised it.”[726]

526. Following her son’s death, Jacinda Thompson was sexually and psychologically abused under the guise of grief care by her parish priest, Reverend Michael van Wijk. Jacinda said that his status within the church and invocation of religion created a significant power imbalance “not just because he was almost 10 years older than me and because I trusted him, but because he was a man of God who at one point during the period of abuse told me he could see Jesus cradling my deceased son in his arms”.[727]

527. This power imbalance often protected religious abusers from scrutiny or suspicion. Survivors sometimes found it difficult to recognise abuse or disclose it.[728] This influence was a component of the spiritual abuse experienced by survivors, as many reported feeling guilt or blame around what had happened and were fearful of what would happen to themselves, their whānau and church communities if they were to tell others about the abuse.[729]

528. NZ European Māori Survivor Leonie Jackson (whāngai to Ngāti Kahungunu) shared her experience of being groomed by two Marist brothers who made her feel special and privileged as a child. “I took on this abuse and internalised it as something I had done wrong. I felt that I was a ‘bad’ girl. This made sense to me as Brother Michael [Beaumont] has made me feel bad, so I must be bad, because he was a man close to God.”[730]

529. Pacific survivors had particularly strong challenges for disclosing pastoral sexual abuse within their kainga (family) and communities. Religious leaders are often held in high esteem in Pacific communities and challenging this can bring individuals and their kainga into disrepute. Samoan / Pālagi survivor Frances Tagaloa, who was raised in a Catholic family, was sexually abused by Brother Bede Fitton at a Catholic Marist intermediate school. She also witnessed another girl getting abused by Brother Bede Fitton. Frances described how when she came to understand as an adult the abuse that had happened to her, the spiritual repercussions of disclosing the abuse would be intensely felt within her family:

“Faith and my parents’ strength of faith in the Catholic Church was significant. Catholicism, for my family, is a cultural way of life. That Brother Bede [Fitton] had access to and offended against me using his position within the Catholic Church was another barrier, compared to if I was disclosing abuse from someone who was not a clergyman, as I would be calling into question my parents’ faith.”[731]

530. Samoan and Māori survivor Rūpene Paul Amato (Ngāti Kahungunu/ Ngā Ariki Kaiputahi) said that after being sexually abused by a Catholic priest who used “sex education” and confession as opportunities to abuse children without being disturbed, they did not tell their parents about it because of fear: “At the time, I knew that it would be my word against the church. I knew Dad would take the church’s word over mine.”[732]

531. These instances demonstrate the transgressions against tapuakiga / talitonuga for Pacific survivors by pastoral sexual abuse, as the sacredness of their spiritual relationship and the authority vested in the church by their communities has been tarnished by the actions of abusers. This disrupted the vā within both their kainga and communities and also between their kainga and the church.

Te whakamahinga o ngā ritenga panoni hemahematanga ki runga i ngā mema o te hāpori Uenuku
Conversion practices for members of Rainbow communities

532. Within some denominations, Takatāpui, Rainbow and MVPFAFF+ survivors experienced conversion practices (known as ‘conversion therapy’) that aimed to change their sexual orientation. Conversion practices within pastoral care focused on the psychology of those in care, through methods such as counselling, and involved the reinforcement of the moral authority of religious leaders and the church. These themes were presented in an independent research report to the Inquiry, As a Kid, I Always Knew Who I was – Voices of Takatāpui, Rainbow and MVPFAFF+ survivors.[733]

533. Survivor Craig Watson was subjected to conversion practice at 12 years old in a Baptist church, and was taught that “homosexuality was not just wrong, but an abomination … you are no longer human, but a piece of filth below humanity and you would be better off being dead than being gay”.[734]

534. Mr UB, as a Māori (Ngāi Tahu) and Tongan fakaleitī, survived two instances of conversion therapy, one that was initiated by the church and one that was initiated by his school.[735] In the first instance, Mr UB was made to attend a counselling session where “a discussion was had about the incompatibility between being gay and the beliefs of the church”.[736] Both of these instances happened within Pālangi faith environments.[737]

Te tūkinotanga me te whakahapa i roto i ngā kāinga taurima tamariki ā-whakapono, me ngā kāinga noho
Abuse and neglect in faith-based children’s orphanages and residences

535. Abuse reported by survivors within faith-based children’s orphanages and residences was similar to State-based settings, including psychological and physical abuse and neglect, and sexual abuse, perpetrated by staff, including religious leaders, clergy, religious,[738] lay staff and volunteers, and peers.[739] The environments of the faith-based children’s orphanages and residences and their systems had similar characteristics to social welfare institutions and were primarily set up to control and reform the behaviour or character of those in their care from a Christian perspective. Many survivors moved between State and faith-based residences and reported similar experiences of abuse in each. The main difference discussed was that much of the abuse in faith-based residences had an underpinning of spiritual or religious abuse.

536. Faith-based children’s orphanages and residences, including reformatory residences, were run by the Anglican, Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, and The Salvation Army churches, often through various incorporated societies or trusts associated with the churches. Catholic institutions were commonly staffed by clergy, nuns or brothers. Most Anglican children’s homes and residences were not staffed by clergy. In many cases, abusers were often people with religious standing and authority within the community.

537. Māori survivors of faith-based children’s orphanages and residences sometimes experienced racism with spiritual or religious overtones.

Te tūkinotanga me te whakahapa hei aupēhi, hei whakatika hoki i ngā purapura ora
Abuse and neglect to control and reform survivors

538. Ann Thompson, a survivor of St Joseph’s Orphanage in Te Awa Kairangi ki Uta Upper Hutt and Nazareth House in Ōtautahi Christchurch told the Inquiry: “I was so scared of the nuns … No one will ever be able to understand how frightened I was.”[740]

539. Survivors from faith-based children’s homes and residences said that in many of these settings, staff viewed children and young people in their care as in need of spiritual ‘saving’ in some way. This religious perspective was dehumanising, and used as a justification for physical, psychological and sometimes sexual abuse. Faith-based children’s orphanages and residences frequently reflected these values, and this purpose, in their facilities and systems of operation, as children lived in fearful regimented places intended to ‘reform’ them.[741]

540. Some staff in some faith-based children’s orphanages and residences verbally abused residents with spiritualised language that framed them as ‘sinful’ or ‘evil’. Some survivors were called ‘evil’[742] or told they had the devil in them[743] by Catholic orphanage and school nuns. Some nuns told survivors they were unloved and unwanted.[744]

541. Physical abuse was employed for the reason of purifying survivors and paired with psychological abuse as a mean of control.[745] NZ European survivor June Lovett, who was placed at St Andrew’s Orphanage (Anglican) in Whakatū Nelson, said the matron of the home, Ms Hammond, would ‘thrash’ the children and tell them: “we had to pay for every limb out of purgatory, or we would go to hell”.[746]

542. Religious teaching and language was used to control survivors and make them fearful. Many survivors of faith-based children’s orphanages and residences said they were highly regimented with strict routines for church, breakfast, school and jobs.[747] Spiritual practices such as prayer and church services became instances of discipline that were associated with these strict regimes, lacking any form of love or emotional attachment and engagement. Survivors were punished if they did not take part in spiritual practices or were perceived to be non-compliant. Survivor Cathie Manchester, who was sent to Catholic Star of the Sea Orphanage in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland when she was 5 years old, described how “the lights would flick on at five o’clock in the morning. If you didn’t get out of bed within like seconds, and [be] kneeling on that floor … you had to line up and get the cane because you weren’t down on that floor quick enough praying.”[748]

543. Survivors discussed widespread neglect in faith-based children’s orphanages and residences, some of which was religiously justified as part of the harsh treatment that was supposed to reflect the sinful nature of those in care and reform them.[749] Across various denominational settings, survivors were deprived of basic needs including nutrition,[750] hygiene[751] and clothing.[752] Some remember having to eat rotten food,[753] or food being withheld as punishment.[754] NZ European survivor Mr NO said that he was told that nuns at Sunnybank Boys’ Home located at Wakapuaka near Whakaū Nelson told residents of the Boys’ Home “Jesus died for your sins”, and so he believed that he had to learn to suffer.[755]

544. Similar to survivor experiences of pastoral care and in faith-based schools, religious abuse could co-occur with sexual abuse through the use of religious language to justify sexual acts by abusers. Survivor Mr UZ described how he was sexually abused by a staff member at the Anglican-run Stoddart House, from the age of 7 to 9 years old:

“He used to tell me what an evil boy I was. Then he used to beat me and make me pray … He would say ‘You’re an evil child, the Lord hates you, you’ve made me feel bad, now you have to make me feel better’. He then made me perform oral sex on him on his wife’s bed while she was out there in the kitchen cooking … On two later occasions, [the staff member] said to me ‘you’re an evil child’. He then raped me.”[756]

545. Many survivors said that they lacked love and affection while living in these settings. Many who had been in Catholic and Anglican orphanages described them as sterile environments, where the nuns and staff provided no real care or affection.[757] Religious reasoning was sometimes given as a justification for the staff’s emotional neglect of residents. Mr N, a NZ European survivor from Hodderville Boys’ Home and Training Farm (The Salvation Army) in Putaruru, said that staff never checked on the boys and if they reached out for help, staff simply told them to accept Jesus into their lives.[758]

546. Some disabled survivors described experiencing neglect in faith-based residences, similar to State residences, where their basic needs were not met. Survivor Tracy Peters, who was sent to The Nest (The Salvation Army) located in Kirikiriroa Hamilton by her mother, said that because of injuries, she “couldn’t play with the other kids. The staff gave up using my homemade wheelchair and would just leave me in the same spot for hours. I often wet myself because I couldn’t get an adult’s attention to go to the bathroom.”[759]

547. Some survivors also discussed how the staff they encountered at faith-based children’s homes and residences tried their best to help those in their care and provided support for emotional development. Survivor Ms TC described how Sister Rona at the Methodist Children’s Home in Whakaoriori Masterton “was a really lovely lady” who tried to help the children.[760]

Te tūkino me te whakahapa i te ia me te hemahematanga
Abuse and neglect surrounding gender and sexuality

548. Female survivors reported that they were subjected to gendered verbal abuse which included body shaming, shaming around sexuality and demonisation of health needs. June Lovett, a NZ European survivor from St Andrew’s Orphanage in Whakatū Nelson, said the matron would often make comments about the girls’ appearances, such as calling them ‘fat’.[761] The matron told June Lovett that her mother was a ‘slut’ and that she and her sister had “bad blood” and would grow up to be like their mother. Survivor Margie Robertson described how the house father at Abbotsford Childrens Home in Waipawa told her that her older sister was a prostitute. When she was 12 years old, he told her that “he would put money” on her being pregnant by the time she was 16.[762]

549. NZ European survivor Nikky Kristoffersen said girls at The Grange Girls' Home in Remuera (The Salvation Army) were verbally abused and humiliated by the matron and were called ‘filthy’, and ‘dirty’ when they had their periods.[763] Female survivors also reported neglect of menstrual products, and education about menstruation.[764]

550. The Inquiry also heard from survivors about homophobia in faith-based residences and orphanages. This manifested in a range of ways, including children being scolded for touching other children of the same gender in friendship.[765] Ann Thompson, was placed in two Catholic orphanages, first at St Joseph’s Girls' Orphanage run by the Sisters of Mercy in Te Awa Kairangi ki Uta Upper Hutt and at Nazareth House in Ōtautahi Christchurch. While at Nazareth House, she told the Inquiry she would get ‘thrashed’ if she was “seen talking to or holding hands with another girl. They said it was rude and dirty.” Several survivors were punished for sleeping in the same bed as their siblings.[766] On their first night at St Joseph’s Girls Orphanage, in Te Awa Kairangi ki Uta Upper Hutt, English, Māori survivor Rexene Landy (Tahawai), who was 4 years old at the time, slept in a bed with her sister because she was scared. In the morning, when a nun found them, Rexene said they “just got dragged out as ‘filthy lesbians’ and bash, bash, bash”. The restrictions on associating with others, including siblings, were a form of abuse which prevented some survivors from forming attachments and friendships in these settings.

I rongo ngā purapura ora Māori me te Pasifika i te kaikiritanga, te whakahapatanga ahurea me te tūkinotanga ā-wairua
Māori and Pacific survivors experienced racism, cultural neglect and spiritual abuse

551. Racism and cultural neglect appeared in many forms for Māori and Pacific survivors in faith-based orphanages and residences. At times, this co-occurred with spiritual abuse and neglect.

552. Many Māori survivors told the Inquiry their identity was stripped from them while in care at faith-based orphanages and residences. The Inquiry heard that in some locations this abuse and neglect was informed by a religious belief that Māori culture was inferior to Pākehā Christian culture. Some Māori survivors in care were led to believe they were inherently ‘sinful’.[767] Māori survivor Dinah Lambert (Ngā Rauru, Ngāti Kahungunu, Ngāti Porou) said:

“[We] were brought up very ‘Pākehā-fied’ within the children’s homes. There was no encouragement to say where you were from, none of that. It was never ever spoken that I was Māori, and it never occurred to me that I was, unless it was pointed out, usually in a derogatory way.”[768]

553. When Dinah left Abbotsford Childrens Home in Waipawa, she did not know anything about her identity as Māori or the concept of whānau.[769] This was a form of whakaiti and led to whakarere – a loss or lack of cultural connection and knowledge.

554. Māori and Pacific survivors discussed how they were routinely singled out in front of their peers based on their skin colour, verbally abused, and given fewer opportunities than Pākehā residents. Irish, Asian survivor Anne Hill told the Inquiry that at Catholic Star of the Sea Orphanage in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland “there was a hierarchy of who was favoured and traumatised little minority children were not high in the hierarchy”.[770] Survivor Ms OY who has Samoan, Māori (Ngāti Tamaterā, Ngāti Maru) and Pākehā ancestry said that at Tikipunga Protestant Children’s Home, her pale sister was treated better than her, who had brown skin.[771] Mr TH (Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei, Ngāpuhi, Tokelau) described the entrenched racism he experienced while at Hodderville Boys’ Home and Training Farm (The Salvation Army) in Putaruru,:

“The white boys were always treated better than the brown boys ... It was lots of little things like if they did something good, they would get extra puddings. The white boys always got more aroha, attention and praise. The brown boys would never be rewarded or even acknowledged for anything we did right. The staff members referred to us as ‘niggers’.”[772]

555. Māori survivors spoke of the denial of access to their culture and an absence of culturally literate staff in faith-based children’s orphanages or residences. Vincent Hogg said there was no cultural training at Sedgley Home (Anglican) in Whakaoriori Masterton, so when he was there, he had no idea about his Māori background and culture.[773] Pacific survivors also experienced being denied access to their culture and having no culturally literate staff. Mr TH stated that Hodderville was “purely Salvation Army white Pālagi”.[774] “[T]hey] need more Māori and Pacific Island staff working in these places. They can relate better to Māori and Pacific kids because they are in the same waka. ”[775]

I āta whakawehea ngā purapura ora i ō rātou whānau
Survivors were intentionally isolated from their whānau

556. Like social welfare residences, survivors from faith-based children’s orphanages and residences were often isolated and had limited contact with their whānau and the outside world. Survivors also discussed how their relationships with their remaining whānau were limited.

557. Survivors whose parents had died were often expected to move on with their lives and not speak about their loved ones. NZ European survivor Mrs SR, who went to an orphanage when she was 4 years old following the death of her mother, described how when the mothers of some of those in orphanages died, staff ensured that “all traces of the mother were got rid of as quickly as possible”.[776]

558. Care staff sometimes lied and told children they were orphans. Survivor Linda Taylor was told by the nuns at the Catholic Star of the Sea Orphanage in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland that her mother was dead. The nuns assaulted Linda for crying about this loss and told her to stop talking about it, but she later discovered that her mother was not dead and had been told not to visit.[777] Survivors also shared that orphanage nuns instructed survivors’ families not to visit, and that some treated visits from family as a privilege that could be taken away as a punishment for perceived bad behaviour.[778]

559. The sister and advocate of survivor Barbara Tait, New Zealand, Australian, who was at the Methodist South Island Children’s Home said that their mother’s visits were reduced to one a month because their mother was overheard asking her children if they were okay in the home.[779]

560. Many survivors discussed how connections with whānau and friends were suppressed. Some of the survivors were separated into different parts of the orphanage due to age differences.[780] Survivor Linda Taylor was separated from her older sister Janice possibly due to the age difference. She told the Inquiry that she was not allowed to speak to her older sister. Referring to the separation of herself and her three siblings, Linda said: “I was put into the top dormitory. I don’t know why. Maybe to do with our ages. We were not allowed to make contact with one another. In the same day we were four children, then two, then one.”[781]

561. Other survivors were deliberately separated from their siblings as they were sent to different orphanages.[782] One survivor who lived with his brother at the Home of Compassion (Catholic) in Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington said “the nuns would separate me and [my brother].[783] Sibling support was important for some survivors who were allowed to maintain connection. For example, a survivor who along with her sister was at St Joseph’s Orphanage in Ōtepoti Dunedin, said that her sister was her “life force” and that she “helped me survive living in such a loveless punishing environment”.[784] This appeared to be part of a wider stripping of individual identity within residences across both State and faith-based care settings, something many survivors reported as a key aspect of institutionalisation.[785]

I rongo ngā purapura ora i te tūkinotanga ki ngā kāinga taurima tamariki ā-whakapono
Survivors experienced abusive foster placements in faith-based organisations

562. Many survivors of faith-based foster care were placed in foster care through arrangements made by the children’s orphanage or other faith-based organisation they had been in. This occurred in centres run by the Anglican Church, Catholic Church, Methodist Social Services, Presbyterian Support Southland, and Dingwall Trust.

563. The formality and oversight of these arrangements is unclear. Some survivors discussed being fostered out to families on holiday placements, others also had permanent foster arrangements through faith-based services.

564. Survivor Ms TC recalled being picked up from the Methodist Children’s Home in Ōtautahi Christchurch by strangers: “We don’t even know who these people are. They just pick us up and take us.” In one of these family settings, she was sexually abused by another child.[786]

565. Survivors from these placements suffered similar abuse to those in foster placements arranged by the State. Sexual abuse was common and perpetrated by both foster parents and other children in the homes.[787] Children and young people were violently and cruelly punished. On several occasions, Leoni McInroe had her feet stabbed with darning needles to see if she was awake, and her foster mother put her arm through a washing machine ringer. Leoni had to do most of the housework.[788]

566. As was experienced in State-based foster placements, faith-based foster parents sometimes treated foster children differently to their own, placing more restrictions on them and not affording them the same privileges.[789] Survivor Ms UC, who was sexually abused in foster care after living at an orphanage run by the Methodist Church, thinks the abuse was the result of “people not being screened properly or if at all”.[790]

567. Faith-based foster families also subjected children to spiritual and cultural abuse. Cook Islands Māori / Māori survivor Ngatokorima Mauauri told the Inquiry how a Palagi foster family arranged by Dingwall Trust tried to convert him to their form of Christianity and lead him to reject his Cook Island culture, which had positively shaped his early life. This was an interference with Ngatokorima’s tapuakiga / talitonuga and his relationship with his kainga. He said: “They wanted me to let go of my identity and adopt theirs. I remember wanting to hang up my pareu [lavalava] in my room because it had an image of my Island in the Cook Islands on it, and they wouldn’t let me.”[791]

Te tūkinotanga i roto i ngā kāinga taurima māmā takakau
Abuse in unmarried mothers’ homes

568. The Inquiry heard evidence that abuse reported in maternity homes catering for unmarried mothers was similar to abuse reported in faith-based children’s orphanages and residences. Much abuse stemmed from unmarried pregnant women and girls being deemed morally corrupt by these institutions. The Inquiry heard about abuse in The Salvation Army (Bethany), Anglican, Presbyterian and Catholic and non-denominational unmarried mothers’ homes.

569. Girls and women who were pregnant out of wedlock were sent to these homes to be reformed. Survivor Maggie Wilkinson described St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers (Anglican) in Ōtāhuhu, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, as a “prison for sad girls”.[792] This spiritual abuse, which reflected misogyny present in society, was used as a form of dehumanisation of these girls and women, and their babies.[793] This led to them being subjected to unique forms of verbal abuse, physical and financial abuse such as forced labour, medical abuse surrounding the birth of babies, and psychological / emotional abuse through forced adoptions.

570. Patricia Salter, who was sent to Childhaven Home for Unwed Mothers in Epsom, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland at age 14, remembered feeling “a lot of shame in Childhaven. Nobody stopped to ask how a 14-year old child had become pregnant or whether I had been abused or traumatised.”[794] Patricia also shared how she was dehumanised and neglected while she was giving birth to her child:

“When I went into labour, I was sent to Auckland Hospital. I was treated like dirt. While I was having the baby, the doctor or nurse slapped me across the face. After the baby was born, they stitched me up with no anaesthetic or pain relief. The baby was taken away from me straightaway. I had no say. I have never seen that baby again. I have blacked out a lot of what happened at that time because it was so traumatic.”[795]

Nā te whakahahani i ngā kōhine me ngā wāhine takakau hapū ka nui kē atu te tūkino me te whakahapa
Demonisation of unmarried pregnant girls and women led to further abuse and neglect

571. Survivors from unmarried mothers’ homes were deemed morally corrupt and in need of redemption. Their children were also seen as in need of rescue and redemption by being adopted to respectable families.[796] This was spiritual and psychological abuse and opened the door to further abuse and neglect in many forms, which severely affected the girls and women as mothers or future mothers.

572. The stigma of being an unmarried pregnant girl, woman or mother existed within wider society and was part of the traditional Christian morality prominent in Aotearoa New Zealand throughout the Inquiry period. Survivor Mrs D told the Inquiry how she was forced to adopt two of her babies out of the Anglican St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers in Otahuhu. Mrs D was later told by her mother that when she realised Mrs D was pregnant, she asked the Anglican Church for advice. The Church said to send Mrs D to St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers in Ōtāhuhu.[797] This prejudice against those who had become pregnant outside of marriage was present within these institutions. Susan Williams, a survivor of Bethany Home (The Salvation Army) in Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington, explained:

“We were all sent there to hide our shame or just hide, as one girl from Australia told her parents she was on a working holiday. We were not bad mothers or could not mother. It was just somebody had decided that our babies were going to be somebody else’s.”

573. She further explained:

“I believed it was fueled by the government wanting to solve two problems: filling the empty cots of New Zealand with so-called ‘illegitimate’ children to give to infertile couples and not have to pay a benefit to single mums.”[798]

574. Survivor Nancy Levy, who went to St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers in Ōtāhuhu, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland in 1968 just before her 17th birthday, told the Inquiry that the residents’ very presence as bearers of ‘illegitimate’ children meant they were sinners and worthy of punishment.[799] Women and girls there were not allowed to use their own names and were referred to by the matron’s surname, ‘Gallagher’,[800] a part of the depersonalisation undertaken based on the belief that their identities were ’sinful’. Matron Gallagher told residents that if they did not do what she said, their babies would die.[801]

575. Survivors said that they were also subjected to gendered slurs or heard these used to refer to their mothers. At St Vincent’s Home of Compassion (Catholic) in Herne Bay, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, survivor Angela Kinley said the nuns called her birth mother and other resident women “hookers, prostitutes, slags, hos [sic]” and other names to indicate they were “filthy women”.[802] At St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers in Ōtāhuhu, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, Matron Gallagher and other nuns subjected the residents to constant verbal abuse, calling them “dirty girls”,[803] and describing them as worthless, fallen, useless, selfish, used, tarnished and “illegitimate”.[804] The harsh treatment in these institutions was intended to be a part of reforming the residents into respectable, moral girls and women in the eyes of Christian society. As survivor Maggie Wilkinson said, Matron Gallagher told residents “that we were ‘fallen’ women and that she would make ‘decent’ women out of us”.[805]

576. As part of the treatment that was supposed to reform them, residents at unmarried mother’s homes were subjected to forced labour while pregnant, doing work that benefited the institution for no pay. This amounted to economic and physical abuse. Survivor Nancy Levy told the Inquiry that pregnant residents of Anglican unmarried mothers’ homes were made to do all the chores, including cooking, cleaning and laundry.[806] Work deemed insufficient would result in punishment. Nancy recalled that if they did not clean the floors right, they had to do it again with a toothbrush, “on all fours, for hours and hours”.[807]

577. Survivors from St Vincent’s Home of Compassion (Catholic) in Herne Bay, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland said that they also worked full-time throughout their pregnancies for no pay.[808] Joss Shawyer, campaigner, founder of The Council for the Single Mother and Her Child, and founding member of Jigsaw (which helped women find children who had been adopted out), and a survivor of abuse at the Childhaven Home for Unmarried Mothers (which was run by the non-denominational New Zealand Council of Christian Women) explained that survivors also had to look after babies and toddlers in the unmarried mothers’ homes that operated daycares.[809] Survivors described the ‘sad’ and ‘miserable’ lives of the babies and toddlers in these nurseries, who had not been adopted out.[810]

578. Some survivors described how laundry work was particularly gruelling.[811] Pākehā survivor Christine Hamilton recalled two Māori girls, aged 14 and 16 years old, who did ‘back-breaking’ work every day using antiquated equipment while pregnant.[812] Pregnant girls and women residing in unmarried mothers’ homes were given little time to rest – after working all week, they still had to be at morning mass at six o’clock on Sunday.[813]

Te tūkinotanga me te whakahapa i te hapūtanga ki te whānautanga
Abuse and neglect throughout pregnancy and childbirth

579. Survivors from unmarried mothers’ homes reported various forms of abuse and neglect that involved their pregnancy and the birth of their children. While this was largely physical and psychological abuse, much of it had an underpinning of medical abuse and neglect as healthcare of pregnant survivors and their babies should have been at the forefront of their time in care.

580. Hunger and malnutrition were present in unmarried mothers’ homes.[814] Survivor Maggie Wilkinson said they were given inadequate food because Matron Gallagher wanted them to have small babies so there would not be problems during delivery.[815] Survivor Ann-Marie Shelley, who attended Bethany Home (The Salvation Army) in Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington said:

“The food was scarce and atrocious. The milk was off, the butter was rancid. We often vomited after meals. But there was nothing we could do. None of us had anywhere else to go.”[816]

581. One survivor of unmarried mothers’ homes described being given medication during childbirth without her consent.[817] While at St Vincent’s Home of Compassion (Catholic) in Herne Bay, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, Pākehā survivor Christine Hamilton was administered several drugs including sedatives and narcotics while she was in labour and woke up the next day, 17 hours after giving birth and felt very disorientated. She said: “I remember asking for the time, it was 6.00am, 5th September. I had been completely sedated on drugs for hours.”[818]

582. Upon receiving her records from the Director of Catholic Family and Social Services in 2005, Christine realised: “They had drugged me to take my little boy. I had always blamed myself for been so weak and not fighting to keep him.”[819]

583. Survivors of unmarried mothers’ homes also told the Inquiry about a lack of information provided to them about what to expect during childbirth. Survivor Mrs D, NZ European, who stayed at St Mary’s St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers in Ōtāhuhu Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, said: “Neither doctor prepped me with any knowledge of delivery of attended during labour or the birth.” She added that women who had already had their babies were separated from those yet to give birth.[820] Survivor Maria Hayward, who stayed at St Vincent’s Home of Compassion (Catholic) in Herne Bay, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, said she “felt like a non-person”, and residents were never given information about their pregnancies.[821]

584. Survivors also experienced medical and psychological neglect during and after childbirth.[822] Survivor Mrs D was left alone to labour for three days, except for when she was physically beaten by Matron Gallagher, who told her she deserved it because she was promiscuous. Mrs D was then forced to give birth lying on her side, so she would not catch a glimpse of her baby. She recalls being brought food but does not remember a doctor coming to check on her.[823] When Nancy Levy was recovering from labour at St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers in Ōtāhuhu Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, a nurse sat with her all day but offered her no help. Instead, as Nancy was “sick and coming in and out of consciousness”, she said the nurse sneered at her and said: “I hope it was worth it ... What did you expect, you’re a dirty girl?”. The nurse told Nancy nobody would want her because she “was worthless” and a “dirty bitch”.[824]

Ngā whakahaunga whāngai me ngā whakawehenga i ngā whānau
Forced adoptions and whānau separation

585. Churches facilitated adoptions through the unmarried mothers’ homes they ran, including the Catholic Church, The Salvation Army, and the Anglican Church. Survivors from these homes told the Inquiry that they were pressured, bullied or coerced into adopting out their babies. This pressure stemmed from the premise that having children outside of wedlock was ‘sinful’ and shameful, and that their babies were to be saved through adoption.

586. All of the St Vincent’s Home of Compassion (Catholic) in Herne Bay Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland survivors told the Inquiry that the nuns applied constant pressure on them to adopt out their babies, often through the application of guilt.[825] Pākehā survivor Christine Hamilton had her first son taken through a forced adoption while she was at the home. She told the Inquiry she was made to feel like a stain on society.[826]

587. Maggie Wilkinson described overt spiritual abuse occurring within the forced adoption of her baby at St Mary’s Home for Unwed Mothers in Ōtāhuhu, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. She was made to swear on the Bible that she would never try to find her daughter and told the Inquiry: “The fact that I swore on the Bible that I would not try to find my daughter meant that I felt I could never take steps to do so.”[827]

588. Forced adoptions were commonly organised through the co-operation of churches and their unmarried mothers’ homes, State social welfare workers, and medical workers and nurses.[828] Sometimes adoption processes began and were approved quickly by the Department of Social Welfare with undue pressure applied to mothers who were inappropriately discouraged from keeping their babies. Women and girls subjected to forced adoptions within the Catholic Church said they had no support or understanding of the legal adoption process and were denied information about the rights of their children and themselves in the process.[829] Survivors spoke of similar experiences in Anglican adoptions.[830] Susan Williams, who was in The Salvation Army’s Bethany Home in Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington, said:

“We were all brainwashed into adoption. It was the only option we were ever told about … finding out years later I could have got the Domestic Purposes Benefit … never any mention that we had options.”[831]

589. Many adoptions were ‘closed’ adoptions to strangers conducted according to the ‘clean break’ theory, which held that it was better for adopted children to have no idea of their origin or whakapapa (genealogy and background). The ‘clean break’ approach was supported by the Pākehā view that if a child was ‘illegitimate’ this should be kept hidden for the benefit of the child.[832] This commonly resulted in the creation of a new birth certificate claiming that the child had been born to its adoptive parents.[833]

590. Survivors were often given no opportunity to meet or bond with their newborn babies after childbirth – childbirth that was often traumatic and without adequate medical support. Joss Shawyer, campaigner and a survivor of abuse at the Childhaven home for unmarried mothers (which was run by the non-denominational New Zealand Council of Christian Women) in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, said Bethany Home:

“systematically and relentlessly applied the adoption separation formula to successfully break the bonds of mother and infant, to satisfy would-be adopters and to secure ongoing government funding. The goal was to separate unmarried mothers from their newborn babies.”[834]

591. Women were expected to pretend as though their pregnancy never happened, adding to the trauma of this experience. Māori survivor Ms AF (Ngāti Tahinga / Ngāti Ira) was sent to Rosanna Good Shepherd Hostel for expectant mothers in Te Awa Kairanga ki Tai Lower Hutt by her adoptive parents, and upon her return home, was told she could never speak about the birth, the adoption or her son.[835]

592. The Inquiry heard that in some instances of forced adoption, babies were exchanged for money, either through a payment to matrons or church donations made by adoptive families. Nancy Levy stated: “The baby was the commodity we were providing. We, the mothers, were dispensable.”[836] Thirty years after Mrs D was forced to adopt out her child, the adoptive mother told Mrs D that she had paid $200 to Matron Gallagher to replace her own baby that was stillborn.[837]

593. Māori caught up in closed adoptions, either as mothers or adopted children, missed the opportunity for the baby to be raised by a relative as a whāngai and to grow their knowledge of their whakapapa and tikanga. [838] Ms AF said her son, who was adopted out from her at Rosanna Good Shepherd Hostels in Lower Hutt, was raised with “no connection with his Māori identity”.[839]

Te tūkino i roto i te pūnaha mātauranga ā-whakapono 
Abuse in faith-based education

594. Abuse suffered by survivors in faith-based schools had elements in common with faith-based children’s orphanages and residences, and more broadly social welfare settings. These included psychological and physical abuse and neglect, sexual abuse, religious and spiritual abuse, racial abuse and cultural neglect, solitary confinement, and educational neglect. Boarding schools were particularly risky environments due to their highly regimented nature and the unrestricted access staff had to students who were separated from their families.

595. The Inquiry received evidence from survivors in a range of faith-based schools run by or associated with the Catholic, Anglican, Presbyterian, and Methodist churches. Abuse experienced by survivors from the school within Gloriavale is also discussed below.

596. In faith-based schools, abusers were clergy, priests, religious leaders, religious brothers and nuns, and lay people who were in the positions of mentors, teachers and disciplinarians. These roles were used as opportunities to physically, sexually and psychologically abuse children. This abuse was often justified as corporal punishment and discipline. The Inquiry heard about entrenched cultures of physical, psychological and emotional violence at faith-based schools, enforced and encouraged by school staff and students. Survivor Patrick Cleary, who attended St Patrick’s College, Silverstream run by the Society of Mary (Catholic) in the early 1950s explained how “some of the benighted priests enjoyed cultivating a reign of terror”.[840] Abuse occurred in boarding and day schools.

597. Because many staff in faith-based schools were also religious leaders, much of the abuse within these settings also occurred within pastoral care. However, if the survivor’s relationship to the religious leader was primarily experienced as an educator, the abuse that occurred through that relationship is included in this section.

598. Survivors also experienced abuse in faith-based schools from peers. Senior students were used or instructed by staff to ‘discipline’ juniors in sometimes violent ways. This abuse could be sexual in nature or feature sexual aspects within violent physical assault.

599. Survivors of Māori faith-based boarding schools reported abuse that was similar to other settings, including physical, psychological and sexual abuse, as well as cultural and educational neglect that was specific to Māori culture. Some physical abuse in these settings featured inappropriate applications of cultural practices. Māori survivors of mainstream boarding schools experienced common types of abuse as well as racial discrimination.

600. Racial targeting also occurred for Māori in mixed-ethnicity faith-based schools. NZ European, Māori survivor Mr SW (Ngāi Tahu) described being part of a generation of Māori who were targeted for abuse by staff at St Edmund’s School (Catholic) in Ōtepoti Dunedin. He said: “It was so endemic back then. In my time at that school there were three Māori pupils. We were targeted like those few Asian or Polish pupils because we were different.”[841]

601. Disabled survivors of faith-based education reported peer-on-peer bullying, educational neglect, and physical and sexual abuse.

Te tūkinotanga ā-tinana hei whakawhiunga
Physical abuse as a means of control

602. Physical abuse was used by staff across faith-based schools as a means of corporal punishment and control.

603. Survivors from Catholic,[842] Anglican[843] and Presbyterian[844] run or associated schools reported corporal punishment that went far beyond the standards of the day, often for minor infractions. Survivors said the teachers and others in the school community knew of the abuse but did nothing about it. Mr SW, a NZ European, Māori (Ngāi Tahu) survivor of St Edmund’s School (Catholic) in Ōtepoti Dunedin, told the Inquiry that “any little thing would induce violence in these men”, including talking in class, having socks down or not having caps on properly.[845] Survivor Robert Donaldson said he knew of several parents who had taken their children out of a Christian Brothers (Catholic) school because of the physical abuse inflicted by one of the brothers.[846]

604. Survivors from Wesley College (Methodist) in Pukekohe also discussed physical abuse from staff.[847] Physical abuse was primarily peer-to-peer that was directed, condoned or tolerated by staff. This was a common feature across many faith-based schools.

605. Several survivors told the Inquiry about abuse they had suffered at St Edmunds (Catholic) in Ōtepoti Dunedin from Brother Fay. NZ European survivor Mr NG explained Brother Fay had regularly and ‘viciously’ beat him, saying it was so brutal it affected his learning and traumatised him.[848] Another survivor, Mr KT, recalled being punched by Brother Fay until he was on the ground fading in and out of consciousness:

“Outside of being strapped, other punishment was often brutal. Being told to stand still and then punched in the back of the head or stomach with the full force of an adult man. This punishment was often given by Brother Fay, a former school boxing trainer.”[849]

606. Survivors described abusers losing control as they were physically abusing them. For example, a survivor who attended St Andrew’s College (Presbyterian) in Ōtautahi Christchurch described being caned by one of his teachers for going outside:

“I bent over on the third strike of the cane. The cane shattered into strips. He then lost the plot and went berserk caning my buttocks a further six times, where I placed my hands to prevent him continuing. He caned my fingers which swelled one inch thick each, he was totally out of control ... the P.E. teacher had to physically drag him off … His treatment of me was barbaric in that day and age to this day and age.”[850]

607. Similarly, survivors from Dilworth School (Anglican) in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland reported excessive discipline such as caning.[851] Survivor Mr NC said that he got caned one night for going to the urinal by tutor Peter Dignan, who was drunk. The caning was so severe that Mr NC went back to bed with his “backside and legs bleeding”, which soaked his sheets in blood.[852] Mr NC said that detentions at Dilworth sometimes involved staff making students hold piles of textbooks until they collapsed, or physical training like press-ups or sit-ups.[853]

608. Survivors from Marylands School (Catholic) in Ōtautahi Christchurch discussed physical abuse from staff co-occurring with sexual abuse, some of which was intended as punishment.[854] Cooper Legal noted that many sexual assaults by Brother McGrath had “an added violent, ritualistic and fetishistic component”.[855]

I taitōkai ngā kaimahi i ngā purapura ora
Staff sexually abused survivors

609. Survivors told the Inquiry about sexual abuse by staff occurring in Catholic and Anglican schools. Most of the survivors who engaged with the Inquiry about abuse attended Christian Brothers, Society of Mary and Marist Brother schools and reported they had been sexually abused. Survivors from Dilworth School (Anglican) in Epsom, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland also discussed extensive sexual abuse being perpetrated by staff members. Many teachers who previously taught at Dilworth School have been convicted of offences, such as indecent assault, indecency and attempted sexual violation.[856] On 18 September 2023, Dame Silvia Cartwright and Frances Joychild KC released their independent inquiry into sexual and physical abuse at Dilworth School between 1950 and 2005[857] That report found extensive sexual abuse, physical violence and bullying occurred at the school for many decades; that students who reported abuse to senior school staff were disbelieved, humiliated and caned; and that the school failed to report abuse to NZ Police. Dilworth School survivor Lindsay Roxburgh told the Inquiry: “Victims of abuse were everywhere. It was an unspoken existence.”[858]

610. Throughout their accounts, some survivors described the sexual violence as opportunistic and situational, while others talked about orchestrated and repeated abusive episodes that typically followed a period of grooming. Some of this abuse co-occurred with religious abuse. Sexual abuse by school staff also happened outside of the school grounds, including at the beach, sports clubs and in vehicles.[859]

611. Survivors told the Inquiry about abusers in faith-based schools who used any opportunity to commit sexual abuse. NZ European survivor Mr SZ n shared he was sexually abused by a priest at St Patrick’s College, Wellington in the 1950s. He arrived late to class following a doctor’s appointment about his testicles. When he explained why he was late to the priest, he was asked to show his testicles. Sean told the Inquiry that the priest threatened him with a cane when he resisted, then proceeded to ‘inspect’ his testicles, and masturbate him.[860]

612. Other survivors experienced sexual abuse that was systematic, planned, and sometimes organised between multiple abusers. As discussed in the Inquiry’s interim report Stolen Lives, Marked Souls, a survivor of Marylands School in Ōtautahi Christchurch described a situation where a brother brought him into his bedroom where another brother was waiting naked in the bed and they tried to sexually abuse this survivor together.[861] In such instances, many survivors explained how they were subjected to forms of grooming, that escalated to sexual abuse and violence. Survivors of St Patrick’s College, Silverstream, described grooming by brothers.[862] This progressed from expressions of interest in students to various forms of sexual coercion and assault.[863]

613. Abusers would use their school duties to create situations in which they could sexually abuse children. The Inquiry heard that sexual abuse of students in the care of the Christian Brothers’ schools occurred around the school grounds – in classrooms, chapels, principals’ offices, sick bays, school fields, bathrooms and showers. The Inquiry was told Brother Mills would ‘supervise’ children in the toilets at St Edmund’s (Catholic) in Ōtepoti Dunedin to urinate by holding the boys’ penises.[864]

614. Pākehā Survivor John de Wit was sexually abused by Brother Giles at Xavier Intermediate School (Catholic) in Ōtautahi Christchurch. Brother Giles groomed John by teaching him about puberty, masturbation and ejaculation. He showed him pornography and would ask him if he had been practising.[865] John explained that because Brother Giles was the principal he didn’t “take too much notice at the time ... I respected his authority but looking back I can see that he was grooming me”.[866]

615. Some survivors who were sexually abused in Christian Brothers schools told the Inquiry that some of the abusers were aware of one another’s sexual offending. In some instances, survivors experienced co-offending where they were sexually abused by more than one brother at the same time. Mr KT, who was sexually abused by Brother Victor Sullivan and Brother Desmond Fay, told the Inquiry: “On two separate occasions, while being ‘smacked’ across Brother Sullivan’s knee, I had my head held by Brother Fay and pulled forward to force my mouth around his limp penis.”[867] Steven Fraser gave evidence of being fondled by Brother Sullivan while Brother Fay watched and laughed.[868]

616. Survivors from Dilworth School discussed organised and repeated sexual abuse from multiple staff members, some of whom worked with other teachers, others associated with the school, and friends, to set up situations where boys could be abused.[869] Mr NC discussed how he was groomed by Scout leader Richard Galloway. This began with interactions through Dilworth Scouts and progressed to gatherings at Galloway’s house, where he Mr NC and other boys would “often consume a lot of alcohol and drugs” and be shown child pornography.[870] Eventually, Galloway took Mr NC on a trip away where Galloway sexually abused him.[871] Similarly, Adam Steele shared how he was repeatedly taken home for weekends by his tutor, Alistair Grant-Harlow, and sexually abused by him at weekends.[872]

617. Sexual abuse could co-occur with psychological, physical and religious abuse, sometimes as part of grooming.[873] As discussed in the Inquiry’s interim report Stolen Lives, Marked Souls, multiple survivors from Marylands School, run by the Order of St John of God, described pervasive sexual abuse from multiple abusers while students. Many instances co-occurred with religious abuse, including abusers justifying their sexual abuse through religious language[874] or saying that God wanted the boys to participate, which would get them into heaven.[875] Survivor George Cant, NZ European, reported that he was sexually abused by Brother McGrath on a marble altar in the chapel.[876] Others discussed how brothers told them that the sexual abuse would ‘cleanse’ the demons they had inside them.[877]

618. Mr NB, a survivor who attended St Peter’s school (Anglican) in Kemureti Cambridge, was groomed and sexually abused by Reverend Gerald Coney. Reverend Coney held mandatory divinity classes at his house on the school grounds. While watching film strips, Reverend Coney chose boys to sit on his lap, and when it was time to move the film strip on, he would “place his hand inside the boy’s shorts and squeeze the child’s buttock to indicate it was time to wind the film strip forward”.[878] Reverend Coney also held regular ‘confession’ sessions at his home, which Mr NB had to attend by himself. Mr NB said Reverend Coney would have his hand on his buttock or genitals, while asking:

“... highly charged sexual questions such as whether I was attracted to boys, questions around masturbation and ‘impure thoughts’ or did I get erections around boys or girls and the circumstances that this would happen.”[879]

619. Pākehā survivor Helen Mafi told the Inquiry about sexual abuse she experienced at 6 years old that co-occurred with physical and religious abuse, while attending Baradene College of the Sacred Heart (Catholic) in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. After she accidentally rang a bell, a nun told her off, calling her a “daughter of Satan” and a “nasty, ridiculous child” and sent her to confession.[880] Upon arriving in confession, she was sexually assaulted by the priest, in the first instance of what would continue for the next three years.[881] Following this, the nun asked her if she liked it, and told her: “If you don’t behave yourself, you’re going to go and get more”.[882]

620. It is unclear if the nun explicitly knew what had happened, but she had effectively delivered Helen to be sexually abused. Subsequent abuse increased in severity, and all took place in the confessional in the presence of Jesus on the cross, which Helen “didn’t understand.”.[883] Helen told the Inquiry:

“I really believed that Jesus was going to come and save me but I couldn’t understand why he didn’t come down and say something like, ‘Leave that little girl alone’. But none of that happened and I couldn’t understand why he didn’t save me and I hated him.”[884]

Te tūkino aropā i ngā kura ā-whakapono
Peer on peer abuse in faith-based schools

621. The Inquiry heard from survivors about violence and sexual abuse among students in faith-based education settings. Peer abuse was common as part of initiations (or ‘hazing’), especially at boarding schools.[885] Initiations were often violent and involved psychological, physical and sometimes sexual abuse.[886] This was amplified by a ‘no narking’ culture.[887]

622. In many faith-based schools, this abuse was either tolerated or directly endorsed by staff members, who viewed hierarchical domination as a useful way to maintain control over boys and “[put] young people in their place.”[888] Survivor Jim Goodwin told the Inquiry that at Christ’s College (Anglican) in Ōtautahi Christchurch in the 1970s “prefects were delegated authority to cane the more junior boys. This had to be approved by the housemaster each time.”[889] Staff also permitted ‘hauling’.[890] Jim said:

“The school had this institution called ‘hauling’, where senior boys would take a junior boy off and beat him up, basically, give him a hard time … Hauling was not an initiation; it was done as a punishment for perceived offences committed by the junior boy.”[891]

623. When Jim was hauled he was forced by three senior students to swallow six half-gallon flagons of warm salty water which resulted in his vomiting and bleeding from his nose. He was then made to clean the rubbish bin he vomited into and was sexually abused by the boys.[892]

624. Hauling was also used at Dilworth School to describe the hierarchical system among boys, where older students were authorised to physically punish younger students for perceived misbehaviour. Survivor David Vane described how senior students would pressure junior students to clean their rugby boots or make their beds.[893] Some survivors described cruel and humiliating punishments often disproportionate in response to any misconduct,[894] as well as completely unprovoked physical abuse that was dished out by senior students at their whim.[895]

625. Similarly, survivors from Methodist boarding school Wesley College in Pukekohe, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, told the Inquiry about established staff-endorsed hierarchies where senior students frequently bullied and assaulted younger students, often with overtones of cultural justification.[896] Respect for seniors and prefects was known as the ‘Wesley Way’, which was synonymous with the physical violence that was used to teach and enforce it.[897] Survivor Mr TE said: “The seniors and prefects also used juniors as their personal slaves … If you didn’t do as you were told, you’d get bashed for it.”[898] Samoan and Pālagi survivor William Wilson was subjected to an extended beating called an ‘Island Respect Hiding’, where he was beaten by a prefect and six students for two-and-a half hours.[899] This beating was ordered by a teacher.[900]

626. Wesley School survivors told the Inquiry about physical abuse that included nipple twisting,[901] being hit and kicked,[902] being forced to ingest pills,[903] being hung on coat hooks,[904] having items including basketballs and cricket balls thrown at them,[905] and being forced to do many push-ups by seniors.[906] Some of these were initiation practices. Beatings were severe – one student who was given an extended beating in 1991 did not have a pulse when the school matron found him and resuscitated him.[907] Assaults could also be sexual. Survivor Mr DE described being sexually assaulted in the communal showers, having his testicles ‘yanked’ and squeezed by seniors, having seniors play with his penis and forcing him to masturbate himself.[908] Other survivors reported similar forced masturbation and oral sex, and being made to touch the genitals of other boys.[909]

627. As reported in Stolen Lives, Marked Souls, some survivors of Marylands School in Ōtautahi Christchurch described scenarios where brothers directed them to sexually abuse other boys, and reported that some brothers had ‘normalised’ this behaviour among many of the boys.[910] In at least one instance, Brother Lebler used this approach to stop a student from disclosing Lebler’s sexual abuse against him. In a statement provided by Cooper Legal, the survivor described being told “that he would get in trouble if he disclosed the abuse because Brother Lebler had made the boy have sex with a younger boy, so the boy was ‘like him’ now – that is, an abuser”.[911]

Te tūkinotanga i roto i ngā kura a-whakapono Māori
Abuse in Māori faith-based schools

628. Throughout the country, the Anglican and Catholic Churches ran faith-based schools for Māori students that were intended to evangelise Māori through education, while ensuring preservation of aspects of te ao Māori in association with the relevant faith.

629. Survivors of abuse at Māori faith-based schools reported similar types of abuse to mainstream faith-based schools, including extremely harsh punishments,[912] sexual abuse from staff,[913] sexual abuse among peers,[914] and physical bullying and homophobic abuse among peers.[915] Survivors also told the Inquiry about unique abuse involving cultural practices and educational neglect.

630. Many survivors, particularly from the schools for Māori boys, have expressed their continued loyalty to their schools and some shared their positive experiences. Mr HO said:

“One thing I liked about the school was the togetherness we had when we played rugby and kapa haka. When other schools used to come, like Hato Pētera, it was great. My cousins used to go to Hato Pētera and I remember our school went all around the field and did a haka. It was mean. When Auckland Grammar Boys College came they used to be scared. You could literally feel the ground shake. You felt the mana, everyone was strong. We could feel our tipuna. I just loved being with all these other Māori. Our own people.”[916]

631. Survivor Mr KL, who was sexually and physically abused at by a priest at Hato Pāora, was able to reflect on the important function Māori boarding schools have in Aotearoa New Zealand:

“It was the leaders at the schools who let us down, not the schools themselves. The schools have a special place in Aotearoa and have produced some great Māori leaders.”[917]

632. While exposure to Māori language and culture was an attractive feature of these schools, particularly during a period before the kōhanga reo and kura movement, the Inquiry was told te reo Māori and tikanga did not always feature to the extent expected. [918] Survivor E. Te Tuiri Hakopa shared that “te reo wasn’t prevalent, even at Te Aute College, which was a big disappointment”.[919]

633. Survivor Mr KL said that at Hato Pāora:

“there was a te reo Māori language class taught by an external teacher from Whanganui who was an old boy, and there was a kapa haka and Māori mass. Other than that, there was no tikanga woven into how the school was run, nor was it used to keep the boys safe. I didn’t see tikanga like manaakitanga and kaitiakitanga in action when I was a student.”[920]

634. In contrast, some Hato Pāora old boys shared experiences of staff and boys showing manaakitanga and kaitiakitanga in their day to day lives. The Inquiry was told that the tikanga and kawa of the school is an important reason why parents and whānau send their kids to the Kura today.

635. Another student, Kamahl Tupetagi, who attended Hato Pāora, said:

“Culture was so important at Hato Pāora. It was so much a part of everything we did, and because I knew nothing about this when I got to Hato Pāora, I became a target for this as well”.[921]

636. This student also described being abused by staff and students.[922] He told the Inquiry that some of this abuse was inflicted by students after he made mistakes in culture class, such as singing the wrong words, doing the wrong actions, or falling over while attempting to hold a stance.[923]

637. The use of cultural practices as an abuse tool was a unique experience for survivors at these schools.[924] There was a strong focus on kapa haka, and military-style training extended into that forum. Survivor Lee Akapita said that at Hato Pāora as a third and fourth form student he was made to do “waewae takahia jumps” for hours until he dropped, and the “tuturu haka stance” for long periods until his legs would wobble and give out:

“We would stand up to shake it off and rest, only to stand up into the tutors swinging wooden paddles above our heads ... [In my first] week of school I stood up and caught a paddle in the side of my head. I just remember waking up on the ground, getting up off the ground hearing ‘Stay down!’ ... I was knocked out four more times after that. Someone later told me I had been knocked out by that paddle.”[925]

Te tūkinotanga me te whakahapa i ngā kura ā-whakapono mō te hunga Turi me te hunga whaikaha
Abuse and neglect in faith-based schools for Deaf people and disabled people

638. Deaf survivors and disabled survivors, including both tangata Turi Māori and tangata whaikaha Māori of faith-based boarding schools reported abuse and neglect that devalued them, disregarded their inherent human value and denied and disrespected their diverse learning needs.

639. Survivor Maurice McGregor, who is of Fijian and NZ European descent, described an experience at a Catholic school where he was made to stand in front of the class and read. This was humiliating as he could not read or write. The teachers did not realise that he was dyslexic:

“The worst thing was, like, sometimes the teachers try and make me stand up and try and read in front of the class, and I couldn’t, and it was embarrassing. I still don’t read, today, very much, you know, it was like the class would ridicule me and laugh at me and stuff like that. Same with writing and that, it was – my knuckles were forever getting rapped from the teachers.”[926]

640. Survivor Ms AF (Ngāti Tahinga / Ngāti Ira), who is tangata whaikaha, attended St Joseph’s Primary School and Sacred Heart Girls College in New Plymouth. She said: “Being ADHD and a girl, it was not diagnosed during that time. There was no support for children with disabilities. We were seen as the problem, not our disabilities … They would tell me the only thing that was wrong was that I was dumb or naughty.”[927]

641. Even at dedicated schools, survivors did not necessarily receive appropriate education. NZ European survivor Jarrod Burrell’s parents sent him to St Dominic’s School for the Deaf (Catholic) in Papaioea Palmerston North at the recommendation of a local nun. All of the St Dominic’s students were Deaf, yet there was little attempt to ensure students were communicated with, and to, in a way the children could understand. Jarrod explained:

“None of the Deaf children could understand anything that was said in church. The teachers and nuns never made any attempt to explain what was happening to us. There was no Sign Language available. Instead, we just had to sit there and endure the worship. It was very boring.”[928]

642. Jarrod said the focus on oralism at the time meant the “education in academic areas was not a priority” and overall “education was of a very low quality”.[929] There were no Deaf teachers to teach students about Deaf culture.[930]

Te tūkinotanga i te hāpori Karaitiana o Gloriavale
Abuse in Gloriavale Christian Community

643. The nature of abuse experienced in Gloriavale Christian Community was strongly shaped by the community’s social and physical environments and their interpretation of religious teachings. Survivors reported abuse that stemmed from the authoritarian control that leadership had over their lives and separation from the rest of the world, both of which are central practices stemming from Gloriavale’s understanding of Christian beliefs. This meant survivors had few close connections with people from outside the community.

644. Much abuse co-occurred with spiritual abuse, as community membership and adherence to rules were viewed within the community as necessary for salvation. Failure to comply with these teachings often resulted in excommunication.

Te aupēhinga ā-whakapono me te whakahau kia noho wehe i te pāpori
Religious control and enforced separation from society

645. Teachings adhered to by the Gloriavale Christian Community emphasise that to keep members unaffected by the sin in the world, members should live separately to mainstream society. Many members of the Gloriavale Community followed these teachings, but survivors saw this separation as a form of abuse, a contributing factor to further abuse and something that triggered abusive actions by leadership if the rules weren’t followed.

646. Gloriavale members have almost no contact with the outside world due to religious teaching and subsequent geographical isolation. Those who gave evidence insisted that they were taught that if they leave the community, they will go to hell.[931] The Inquiry heard that Gloriavale members are taught they are superior to those who live outside of their community and must retain separation from the world to preserve this status.[932]

647. Survivors frequently told the Inquiry about the way in which fear-based religious teaching was used to control their lives and make them do things that they did not want to do, as well as limit their opportunities for healthy and fulfilling lives. This led to many negative impacts while they were in the communities and when they left. Survivor Mr QM referred to Gloriavale’s strict religious teaching as “false and misleading biblical interpretations of divine justice” whereby the scriptures were manipulated to suit the needs of Gloriavale’s leaders.[933]

648. Survivors from Gloriavale spoke about the psychological and spiritual abuse they were subjected to and described lives that were totally controlled by community leaders, who often used shame and humiliation to silence dissent. Survivor Mr QM told the Inquiry that he started to question decisions and seek clarification on their theological merit. He recalled:

“The answer I received was essentially, ‘How dare you question me?’ The next morning, in public, the leader vilified me ... he did not name me but it was obvious who he was speaking about and I was thereafter ostracised from the community for a period of about four months.”[934]

649. Solitary confinement was another form of abuse used as a form of punishment in Gloriavale. There was a purpose-built hut for placing people in isolation.[935] Ms PM told the Inquiry about someone who was placed into isolation for three weeks as punishment for having sex before marriage. No one could interact with her during those three weeks except her parents who would deliver her food at night.[936]

650. Some Gloriavale members who left or were forced out of the community faced “almost insurmountable barriers”, including separation from their family and loss of access to their finances and possessions.[937]

651. Gloriavale survivors spoke to how the leadership’s control over their community also resulted in medical neglect, as leaving Gloriavale for treatment could be done only with “the consent of the Elders”.[938] This led to many people being denied treatment, as Ms PM said: “You had to put up a case as to why you should leave. If it was just a common cold or the flu, you were told you had to work your way through it. You would not get permission to go.”[939] Ms KM (Ngāti Porou) said many medical conditions were unknown or not taken seriously. She found out she was anaemic after leaving Gloriavale; iron supplements had not been available to her. Ms KM’s mother and brother both have coeliac disease, but “this would be mocked by the leaders”.[940]

Te tūkinotanga ā-ohaoha me te whakahapa mātauranga
Economic abuse and educational neglect

652. The exclusive nature of Gloriavale also led to economic abuse[941] and educational neglect. Due to their separation from society, Gloriavale members view work that supports their community economies as essential. This is conducted through either community or family-owned businesses or activities, which could also deal with the general public. Education and training of community members is therefore geared towards these ends, usually along strict gendered lines.

653. Survivors from Gloriavale report being made to work long hours with no compensation from as young as 4 years old.[942] Isaac Pilgrim, who worked for the community from 7 years old, said: “Everyone was used to working in a perpetual state of exhaustion.”[943] After being injured at work at 15 years old, he had to keep working and was denied outside help due to community rules against drawing ACC, reflecting medical neglect.[944]

654. Survivors spoke about receiving limited educational opportunities and very little education beyond a high school level.[945] Māori survivor David Ready (Ngāti Porou) said Gloriavale’s schooling system is “essentially a vehicle for communication of the prevailing dogma of the leadership”.[946] He told the Inquiry “that the materials we worked from were prepared and typed up within Gloriavale rather than containing any form of objective or historically accurate information”.[947]

655. Education and training were highly gendered. Male survivors were made to study in areas such as the trades or agriculture and start working for community-run businesses from a young age.[948] Women were expected to work only within the home and so received even less education than men. Mandatory subjects for girls focused on home economics, childcare and food safety.[949] David Ready explained that in Gloriavale, “from an early age young women are taught, through formal education and observance of social stricture, that they are worth less than men in the community”.[950] Louise Taylor, a lawyer for many Gloriavale leavers, reported that women who attended Gloriavale’s school within the last 25 years were the least likely of Gloriavale survivors to be satisfied by their primary school education.[951] When survivors wanted to leave the community, this meant they had limited skills and knowledge for living in the outside world.[952]

656. Survivor Ms KM (Ngāti Porou) told the Inquiry that food and other supplies were rationed, leading to neglect and gendered inequality within the community. There was generally not enough food and boys were allotted more food than girls.[953] She said they were allowed one bottle of shampoo for the year, and that she once had to go two weeks without washing her hair to conserve shampoo.[954] Soap, deodorant and menstrual products were also rationed.[955]

Te whakahāwea i te hunga uenuku me ngā ritenga panoni hemahematanga
Rainbow discrimination and conversion practices

657. Like some other faiths, Gloriavale taught against any sexuality or gender identity that was not cisgendered heterosexuality (i.e. their gender identity had to fully correspond to the sex that was assigned at birth). Survivors experienced or witnessed attempts to change sexual identity which involved demonising such identities.

658. A survivor from Gloriavale discussed how her bisexuality was seen by the community as “an evil thing, a sin”.[956] Her attraction to other girls was punished by “a spanking with a leather belt”.[957]

Tūkino - te tūkinotanga, te whakawhara me te pāmamae - i rāngona e te Māori
Tūkino – abuse, harm and trauma – experienced by Māori

659. Lilia Tarawa, a survivor from Gloriavale, discussed how Māori members were disparaged and looked down upon, and te reo Māori and tikanga Māori branded as ‘evil’. These tūkino – abuse, harm and trauma – reflected negative attitudes towards Māori and showed a blatant disregard for the wellbeing of Māori members.

660. This discrimination was encouraged and justified through religious teaching.[958] Lilia Tarawa said Gloriavale believe “you don’t have ethnicity, you’re just a child of God”.[959] However, Pākehā culture was never questioned as an ethnicity. Racism, believing that personality, behaviour and morals can be traced back to race, and the belief that one race is superior to another was reflected in language used by Gloriavale leaders. Māori survivor Ms KM (Ngāti Porou) said she felt “a lot of shame about being Māori when I was younger”.[960] She recalled leaders teaching that te reo Māori was “Satan’s language” and that Māori were lazy and thieves.[961]

661. Māori survivors discussed how their identity was disparaged and both mana tipuna and mana tangata trampled on through Gloriavale’s Eurocentric education. Survivor Constance Ready (Ngāti Porou) stated that in early childhood, “there was absolutely no interest in Māori culture, te reo or tikanga … unless there was an ERO visit”, in which case her whānau would be asked to weave flax that was tokenistically placed on the walls.[962] Survivor David Ready (Ngāti Porou) said that in later education, Māori were presented as “ignorant cannibals and Pākehā as superior”.[963] Survivor Ms SU (Ngāi Tahu) said that a teacher, Peter Righteous, would discriminate against her and another Māori girl in her class, and would call Māori “vile heathens”.[964] When she was 11 years old, she was punished for using te reo Māori by being made to “stand in the corner for two or three hours”.[965] Education on te Tiriti o Waitangi was minimal and inaccurate.[966]

Te whakakararehetanga o te hunga whaikaha
Dehumanisation of disabled people

662. Several survivors from Gloriavale said they had witnessed the physical and psychological abuse of a disabled community member, Prayer Ready.[967] This instance of abuse appeared to indicate a wider abusive stance towards disabled people within the community, as it was justified through religious teaching that echoed a traditional Christian understanding of disability as punishment for sin (as interpreted from the Old Testament of the Bible). Melody Pilgrim, Prayer’s sister, explained:

“There was a lot of ignorance of special needs among leaders and community members in Gloriavale and my family was told that Prayer’s condition was a punishment for them not being good enough Christians.”[968]

663. As a result, Prayer suffered educational neglect as she was expected to perform at the level of other students without assistance[969] and medical neglect as her health needs went uncared for.[970]

I whakanoatia te tūkinotanga ā-tinana, te taitōkai me te whakaiti hemahematanga
Physical and sexual abuse and sexual shaming was normalised

664. Gloriavale survivors discussed how the leadership teachings normalised physical and sexual abuse, through promoting harsh discipline and normalising the public discussion of sexual topics.

665. Gloriavale survivors shared that, due to teachings within the community, physical abuse was normalised within the community as punishment and a means to control families. Louise Taylor, in reporting on themes she had identified through legally representing more than 50 leavers of Gloriavale, said: “The leaders of the community condoned and, encouraged this degree of violence in the discipline of children because submissive wives and children was a sign of a well-managed family, and the father of a well-managed family could rise in the social hierarchy in Gloriavale.”[971] Similarly, some survivors experienced physical abuse from teachers, who encouraged students’ families to ‘beat’ them for misdemeanours.[972]

666. Louise stated that a previous community leader, Hopeful Christian, hated the sound of children crying, so taught parents to cover their children’s mouths and noses to prevent them from crying “until the child was struggling to breathe whenever they cried”. Several survivors said they had seen children turn blue in these instances.[973]

667. Sexual abuse was prevalent between community members.[974] Isaac Pilgrim, who lived in Gloriavale for 37 years, said “sexual abuse was forever an underlying current within the Gloriavale community. You were constantly hearing rumours about a person having either committed some form of sexual abuse or been the subject of sexual abuse.”[975]

668. Survivor Rosanna Overcomer, who was born in Gloriavale and lived there from 1986 to 2013, is a survivor of sexual abuse by multiple boys and men throughout this period. She shared how girls who were sexually abused would ‘always’ be blamed for their abuse and stated: “I was aware from a young age that if anything happened to me, I would be labelled a slut and a whore.”[976] This reflects a wider gendered discrimination within Gloriavale that was also present in the division of labour, the limits placed on what education girls could undertake, and historically, promotion of violent discipline of wives by their husbands (a practice that Survivor Mr QM said was preached about in the past but is “no longer a feature of marriages at Gloriavale”).[977]

669. During the Inquiry’s Faith Institutional Response Hearing, Gloriavale leader Howard Temple accepted that there had been intergenerational sexual abuse in that community.[978] This was acknowledged by an NZ Police report, which stated:

“The offending is a practice that has not begun with this generation and there is certainly some evidence of this occurring at least at the level of indecent acts and oral sex in the now mid-20s generation and older males in their 30s … During the course of this investigation it has become clear that a number of parents (male and female) who are trying to support their own children ... are also victims of historical sexual offending.”[979]

670. Survivor Clement Ready said that the grounds for sexual abuse were established through the promotion of a “sexualised culture in the community” by previous leader Hopeful Christian, who sexually abused Clement.[980] Clement said:

"Sex was spoken of openly, children saw and heard their parents having sex due to close living quarters and sexual abuse was, and remains, far too commonplace … I was told by my daughter that [Hopeful] told her about the shape and size of a man’s penis, for example … He and other leaders would take the microphone at mealtimes and describe their sexual activities of the night before.”[981]

Read the next part of Chapter 4 here

Footnotes

[715] Transcript of opening statement from the Catholic Church on Education at the Inquiry’s Faith-based Institutional Response Hearing (Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, 17 October 2022, page 109); Transcript of closing statement from the Catholic Church at the Inquiry’s Faith-based Institutional Response Hearing (20 October 2022, page 582); Transcript of evidence for the Methodist Church and Wesley College at the Inquiry’s Faith-based Institutional Response Hearing (Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, 18 October 2022, pages 271 and 280); Transcript of evidence of Jo O’Neill for Presbyterian Support Otago at the Inquiry’s Faith-based Institutional Response Hearing (Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, 19 October 2022, page 278); Transcript of the opening statement by Dilworth School and Dilworth Trust Board at the Inquiry’s Faith-based Institutional Response Hearing (Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, 19 October 2022, pages 332– 334); Transcript of Right Reverend Ross Bay, Most Reverend Donald Tamihere and Most Reverend Philip Richardson at the Inquiry’s Faith-based Institutional Response Hearing (Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, 20 October 2022, pages 544, 550); Witness statement of Colonel Gerald Walker on behalf of The Salvation Army (18 September 2020, para 2.1–2.3); Transcript of evidence of Colonel Gerald Francis Walker for The Salvation Army New Zealand at the Inquiry’s Faith-based Redress Hearing (Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, 15 March 2021, pages 20–21, 33).