A Family Group Conference plan is only meaningful if it can be implemented. Too often, whānau are brought together, asked to take responsibility, encouraged to develop solutions — and then left without the resources to make those solutions work. That is not empowerment. That is setting whānau up to fail. The original intent of the FGC was not simply to hear whānau views. It was to place whānau, hapū, iwi and family groups at the centre of decision-making, supported by the Sta

A Family Group Conference is only as strong as the preparation that happens before it. Every major review says the same thing: preparation is critical. Without preparation, an FGC risks becoming just another meeting. With proper preparation, it can become a powerful whānau-led process that changes the direction of a child or young person’s life. Preparation is not simple. It means identifying the right people.It means whakapapa searching.It means finding whānau, hapū and iwi

A young person’s 18th birthday should not be treated as an administrative finish line. For many rangatahi leaving care, the transition to adulthood is one of the most vulnerable periods of their life. They may be moving from statutory care into independence, employment, housing, study, whānau reconnection, adult services or community support. This transition must be planned. It must be supported. It must be meaningful. NUPE has received member feedback raising serious concern

The Family Group Conference Coordinator role has been misunderstood for too long. This is not a back-office administration role. It is not diary management. It is not simply arranging a room and taking notes. The FGC Coordinator is a statutory role. Coordinators are guardians of the Family Group Conference process. They sit at the intersection of law, practice, whānau engagement, child participation, victim participation, cultural safety and interagency accountability. A Coor

The Family Group Conference did not come from nowhere. It came from a history of harm. Pūao-te-Ata-tū exposed the institutional racism embedded in the child welfare system. It showed how Māori children were alienated from whānau, hapū, iwi, whakapapa and culture through State systems that believed professionals knew best. The old system talked about children, assessed families, held professional meetings, and made decisions that too often excluded the very people who knew the

The recently released Oranga Tamariki response to the Independent Children's Monitor's Outcomes for Tamariki and Rangatahi Māori and their Whānau in the Oranga Tamariki System 2024/25 report acknowledges significant challenges facing tamariki Māori. The report discusses Māori over-representation, unmet care and protection needs, youth justice concerns, iwi-led initiatives, workforce development, commissioning reform, and data improvements. However, one notable omission sta

Puao Te Atatū (1988) was a landmark report that laid bare the institutional racism embedded within the New Zealand child welfare system. It highlighted the disconnection between state agencies and Māori, and the urgent need to reflect Māori values, perspectives, and leadership in decision-making about the wellbeing of tamariki. A core recommendation of the report was to empower whānau, hapū, and iwi through culturally appropriate, community-based solutions — as opposed to s