Something else’

Investigative journalist Aaron Smale says his podcast about abuse at Lake Alice examines the coverups and wilful negligence of those in power at the hospital. reports.

‘You think you’ve heard the worst. Then you hear

AARON Smale feels he walks a fine line. He’s a journalist. But sometimes he’s also counsellor, advocate and friend.

The past five years, Smale has become immersed in the story of New Zealand’s horrific legacy of state abuse, and the intergenerational trauma left in its wake, at foster homes, boys’ homes, youth justice facilities, prisons and psychiatric institutions like the infamous Lake Alice hospital where child abuse was rife in the 1970s.

Survivors trust him with their stories. In return, he picks up the phone, no matter the time.

Some of these relationships have turned into friendships. Smale gets invited to birthdays. If someone needs a bed on the way through town, his door is open.

That can come with its own complications. ‘‘I get a little bit uneasy . . . because I’m a journalist. I can’t be their lawyer, I can’t be their MP, I can’t be their counsellor. But in some ways I am.’’

He is determined to give these people ‘‘the dignity of being heard’’. ‘‘Not just because you want the story, but because they deserve it. They’ve had nobody in their corner.’’

Lake Alice survivor and advocate Tyrone Marks says the work can take its toll on Smale. He can feel when Smale is worn

‘Who holds the state accountable when the state’s the criminal?’ AARON SMALE

down – his voice gets croaky.

That’s when Marks tells him to take a break. ‘‘Because this is always going to be there. It’s been there for a very long time, and it’s not going away.’’

Smale says he can, theoretically, walk away whenever he wants. ‘‘They can’t.’’

He reckons we’ve only heard 5 per cent of what happened. ‘‘You think you’ve heard it all. You think you’ve heard the worst you could hear. Then you hear something else.’’

During the past five years, Smale’s written news stories, investigative features, made videos and photographed those victimised by the state. He’s been awarded a fellowship to study at Columbia University’s Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma in New York, he won best investigation at the 2020 national media awards, and he’s working on a documentary, and his PhD.

His latest project is a podcast. The Lake is a seven-part series about Lake Alice but, maybe more importantly, what has happened since. The podcast will be published on Stuff tomorrow, Monday, October 25.

It examines the ongoing impacts, coverups and wilful negligence of those in power.

The podcasts centre survivors’ voices. And the crew brought Marks on board as an adviser and support person for survivors to avoid retraumatisation or triggering questions. It’s this type of care – the extra mile – that gives Smale mana in the community.

Leoni McInroe was ‘‘highly suspicious’’ of Smale when they first spoke. She’s seen too many journalists she thinks will exploit her trauma.

Smale is different, she says. He’s authentic and made the experience ‘‘safe and easy’’. The importance of this can’t be overstated. ‘‘He walked alongside me on this journey,’’ McInroe says. ‘‘And sometimes I’ve been to the darkest places.’’

Harry Tam met Smale at a Mongrel Mob-Black Power hui about five years ago where the journalist spoke about his own life. Tam, who has worked as a senior public servant and now consults with hard-to-reach communities, says Smale’s mahi has had a profound impact.

‘‘These things were always under the surface, but his work has brought it to life . . . To me, he’s more than just a journalist working in this space. That’s what makes his kaupapa so special.’’

The Lake can be a hard listen. But producers Kirsten Johnstone and Melody Thomas say it wasn’t enough to use the catch-all term ‘‘state abuse’’ and move on.

When Johnstone was waking up thinking about one survivor’s vivid description of abuse he suffered as a 6-year-old, she knew that was the limit.

‘‘Going in we were aware that we didn’t want this to be trauma porn. We needed to tell the story while also being respectful,’’ Thomas says.

And the story doesn’t need sensationalising. ‘‘It isn’t just all horror and trauma . . . There are also these characters who you love. There is a lot of love through it, a lot of laughter through it.’’

That laughter is a survival mechanism survivors often lean on. It also has villains, heroes and ‘‘rascally 60-year-olds’’.

For Smale the podcast is about accountability. ‘‘It’s about more than just the horrific abuse. It’s about who holds the state accountable when the state’s the criminal?’’

Smale (Nga¯ ti Porou) was adopted and raised by a loving

Pa¯ keha¯ family. Later – long after he’d come to terms with his adoption – he was forced to reexamine this aspect of his life, after connecting with a sister he never knew he had.

‘‘There were a lot of couples applying that didn’t want Ma¯ ori boys, for no other reason than that they were Ma¯ ori boys,’’ he says. ‘‘That really p ..... me off. The racism that was behind that . . . I’m thinking: What is it about Ma¯ ori boys? We haven’t done anything. So, what is it about Ma¯ ori boys and Ma¯ ori men that is such a problem for white New Zealand?’’

That sharpened his focus. Soon he was writing about prisons, but kept ending up on the topic of welfare homes. This is how he began reporting on state abuse in care, reporting that helped put pressure on the Government to announce the Royal Commission of Inquiry.

In New Zealand, an estimated 100,000 children were removed

from their parents and went through the welfare system from the 1950s to 1990s, though some say the number is higher. As many as 80 per cent were Ma¯ ori.

Australia and Canada have similar histories, but New Zealand put a higher proportion of its indigenous children through this system in a shorter space of time.

‘‘Do you ever think that could have been me? Yip . . . I’d probably get away with it because I’m not as dark as some of them,’’ Smale says, as he pulls up his sleeve.

‘‘If you want to talk about what angers me: You have a kid that’s been traumatised; their behaviour reflects that; they get punished again; they get more trauma.

‘‘If I had one thing to say to your reader: Next time you hear about somebody who’s in prison or has done something awful or who’s in a gang, ask yourself where did they come from? They didn’t fall out of the bloody sky.’’

Smale doesn’t hold back when attributing accountability. The institutions, mainstream media, and former prime minister Helen Clark are all in the firing line.

‘‘I hope New Zealand gets smacked in the face by it,’’ he says of the podcast. ‘‘I hope they get a good shellacking. I hope it starts a conversation.’’

McInroe doesn’t have any expectations of the podcast. She has hopes. ‘‘My hope is that the light is shone more directly on those people who harmed us, and that we come out of the darkness because of the light that’s on them. ‘‘If people choose to listen, that’s giving us the gift of having our voices heard . . . whakarongo mai.’’

The Lake is a podcast series made by Popsock Media, with support from NZ On Air. You can listen via Stuff, Apple Podcasts, Spotify and other podcast platforms from tomorrow.