Age when entered care 14 years old 
Year of birth 1969 
Hometown Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland 
Time in care 1983–1985 
Type of care facility Boys’ home – Hamilton Boys’ Home in Kirikiriroa Hamilton; psychiatric hospital – Tokanui Psychiatric Hospital located south of Te Awamutu; Social Welfare family home; foster homes 
Ethnicity NZ European, Māori (Te Arawa)
Whānau background One of eight kids; other siblings also went into care. Dad left when Joshy was 4 years old, and his mum remarried when he was around 5 or 6 years old.    

“They tried to ‘shock’ me out of being gay.”

I was a bit of a black sheep in my family growing up and was beaten constantly. There were times I couldn’t walk because my legs would be black and blue from bruises. It wasn’t a good childhood.

I became a State ward and was initially placed in Hamilton Boys’ Home aged 14 years old. Some staff treated me okay, some didn’t. The staff who did the showers and night shifts were the creepy ones. There was sexual abuse at night, after we’d gone to bed when the staff would come to check on us. I’m sure everyone knew what was going on, but no one said anything.

They always preyed on the quiet ones like me. Never the rowdy ones who would make a scene.

I told a staff member about it once, and I think he believed me, but nothing ever happened. I thought, what’s the point, so I didn’t tell anyone else after that.

It wasn’t long before they sent me to Tokanui Hospital. That happened after I tried to set fire to a doctor’s surgery in Rotorua. I’d been sent back home and I didn’t want to be there – I wanted to go back to the boys’ home, because I didn’t get beaten there. But nobody talked to me about what was happening or how long I was going to be there. Social workers never contacted me or came to see me.

I was a scared little kid. I felt like I didn’t belong in there. I felt I was being punished for my behaviour, but I didn’t know what I had done. I knew being in Tokanui wasn’t going to be good for my mental health in the long run. I started running away, but I’d get picked up and taken back, and put into seclusion. Complaining to police about the abuse wasn’t an option – I knew nobody was going to believe me anyway.

They gave me electric shocks at Tokanui because I was gay. I remember asking, “Where are you taking me?” The male nurse said, “We’ve got to get this gay out of you.” I said, “Well, it’s not something that I choose to be.”

That was it. Nobody ever talked to me about being diagnosed with anything. It was just when I mentioned I was gay that everything changed, and I got three sessions of electric shocks and then nothing was ever said.

The staff treated me differently because of my sexuality – they’d call me names. Some of the nurses would call me a faggot, like, “Go to bed, go have a shower, you faggot.” They were extremely homophobic.

I was sexually abused at Tokanui. It was constant – every night, a male staff member would come in, then a couple of hours later, another would come in. Sometimes I’d sleep under the bed, because I thought if they didn’t see me in bed when they opened the door, they might go away.

I was raped by another patient there, and I got really upset about it, so the staff drugged me up to calm me down and I was out of it for about three days. That was it – it was never mentioned again.

I think I was an easy target because I had no one to tell, and the staff wouldn’t listen. The staff at Tokanui didn’t like any trouble. If you started up, they’d bring you medicine or give you an injection. I started rebelling and got injections at night. I didn’t know what it was, but I’d sleep for hours and be really dozy when I woke up.

After Tokanui I went to a Social Welfare family home and was abused there by the husband. I understand he was later arrested for sexually abusing children. He’d threaten me each time he sexually abused me, telling me I’d be locked up, I’d be taken back to Tokanui.

I ended up in foster homes too, just a constant back-and-forth between the boys’ home, foster homes, my mum’s place. Once I was 16 years old, I went back to my mum’s and she had my suitcases packed and was standing out the front of the house. I was just dumped off at a social worker’s place in Rotorua. I never heard from Social Welfare again once I turned 16 years old.

I just wanted to be somewhere that was safe.

I went to Christchurch and studied to be a pastry chef, and I’m now qualified as a chef and pastry chef. I had a really good tutor who helped me find accommodation and I got work. I went to Australia for a while too.

But the abuse has affected my relationships and my trust. I can’t let anyone touch me or hug me. I have a real fear of being hurt, so I push people away. I don’t go out – I stay by myself all the time because my health is so bad now.

I believe that I contracted HIV when I was sexually abused at Tokanui, and I have full-blown AIDS now. I’m on borrowed time at the moment, anything can take me out. So, I’m just trying to cope with that. There’s a lot of stigma out there in relation to HIV and having to deal with that is a bit much sometimes.

At one point I was self-destroying – drinking and taking a lot of drugs. I had counselling, but it was hard to open up – nobody else had listened, so I wasn’t going to talk to other people, because they wouldn’t believe me.

My neurological stuff isn’t good at the moment and I’m not sure if that’s because of the AIDS or the electric shocks. I’ve lost strength in my hands to pick things up. I’m not sure what the long-term effects of the electric shocks are.

I’ve been disconnected from my culture. I don’t go to my family marae, I just don’t feel like I belong. Māori culture never got brought up at Tokanui or the Hamilton Boys’ Home. I took a te reo course a few years ago – I wish I’d had more opportunity to learn it, that would at least give me a feeling of belonging, because I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. I feel like my innocence has been taken away.

There needs to be more support where young people can have somebody they can trust to talk to. If you’ve got someone you can trust, you know you’re not alone. As long as someone cares for our young people, that’s the main thing. [229]

Footnotes