Stephen’s story

February 2024

For the past three years, Stephen Turnock, of Ngāi Tahu descent, has been DCM’s Manahautū (Director). Stephen is DCM’s first Māori director and brings his own experiences of systemic racism and homelessness with him.

Stephen considers it a privilege to work at DCM, where he has taken us on a journey of transformational change, helping us gain clarity around our vision for communities where whānau are housed, connected, valued, and thriving while ensuring we have both the infrastructure and team capabilities to bring that vision to life.

Here, Stephen shares the taonga that is his story with us – his journey from Christchurch, through the challenges of his youth, to a career supporting the most marginalised.

“I am Christchurch born and bred,” Stephen shares. “I was adopted out at birth. I always had an aunty – but I didn’t know she was my biological mother until I was about 20. So, I grew up as the middle of two boys in a traditional South Island Pākehā family where rugby was our foundation. My adopted father was a very hard-working man in the Christchurch wool stores. My mother was also hard-working and was our primary source of emotional support and love, but unfortunately, violence was an aspect of our upbringing – with the odd visit to A&E.”

But Stephen is quick to add, “I have huge loyalty to my mother and my father – they raised me as parents, and while there are things that I wish could have been different, at the end of the day they fed me, they clothed me, they loved me – they were my parents.

“We were never well off, always struggling, but generally, it was an uneventful childhood. Then, probably at the age of eight, we packed up in the caravan and just travelled New Zealand for about two years. They are the most positive and happy memories I have as a child.”

Seven-year-old Stephen on the road with his whānau.

At primary school, Stephen had his first encounters with racism. “I would’ve been about 10 or 11 when it became apparent that I was a Māori in a Pākehā family,” Stephen says. “Kids would say things like, ‘Why are you brown when your brother’s white?’ I never considered myself different – but outside influences made me more aware of it.”

Stephen describes how the racism ramped up when he went to college. “I think there were three Māori in a high school of 1,200,” he says. “I was often called a n– to my face.”

With abuse at school, violence at home, and undiagnosed learning difficulties, Stephen came to understand the concept of fight or flight.

“I started running away from home and gravitating to people experiencing similar situations. As you’re introduced to alcohol and drugs, it’s a recipe for disaster. It’s the same story we’ve heard for generations and particularly experienced by Maori.”

From 13-16 years of age, Stephen was often away from home and rough sleeping – “Doing some pretty serious stuff with some pretty serious people.”

One night, Stephen found himself part of a group out late at night, up to no good. “Someone must have rung the Police, and they ended up chasing us. I remember spending the next three hours lying face flat on this little roof in the pouring rain as they searched for us. I did some soul searching during this time, and I decided that was it – this is not the life for me.”

Stephen’s decision to change his lifestyle resulted in him losing his entire group of friends but he was fortunate that he was able to return home and started working for his father in the wool stores.

“It was hard labour,” Stephen shares. “Wool looks quite fluffy and white – but at first, it’s horrible, full of thorns and grease. Your arms would be all blistered, and you’d stink. Many of the people who worked there were hardcore – alcoholics – all sorts. I started to learn the importance of getting on with others and being aware of the art of negotiation.”

Along with work, rugby became an important part of Stephen’s life at this time, empowering him to build a more positive social network. He became the youngest player to make his club Colts team, later moving to Sydney to try to make it big in rugby league.

“I was terribly homesick,” Stephen shares. “Being in a big city by yourself is hard, and looking back, I realise the value of whānau and social support systems. Although, I sometimes wish I could have stuck it out because I’m pretty adamant I could have broken my way into the NRL.”

Stephen’s rugby days, aged 20.

Stephen is reflective about this period of his life. “I guess one of the things I learned was that no matter how you feel or how bad things are, they do get better. Things heal over time – and you learn to move forward. The key is who we surround ourselves with and finding that light to aspire towards.”

Stephen moved to Queenstown, where he worked as a hotel porter. “I absolutely loved it. But racism popped up again. One of my jobs as a porter was to write welcome messages and one day, I wrote ‘Kia ora’ and got told off for it. This was in the late 90s/early 2000s – and on reflection, I’m extremely proud of how far we have come since then. But the impact it had on me and my generation was significant – because you’re reminded that you and your culture is not a good thing, and I remember that being very evident at the time.”

Stephen took up rugby again, and one day, out of the blue, his coach said, “I work at this place called Kingslea. They are looking for some casual workers, and I think you’d be really good.”

Kingslea was a residential home for children aged 7 to 17 with youth justice-related issues. It was a place where Stephen himself had ended up as a young teenager.

“My first days at Kingslea remind me how our new staff may feel, standing in DCM’s courtyard, surrounded by heightened emotions, dysfunctional behaviours, and feeling like a fish out of water. After some time and confidence-building, I decided this job was for me. I ended up being there for about eight years.”

Stephen worked as a residential social worker and was supported to get his tertiary qualification while on the job. “I guess I had a natural empathy from my lived experiences. I knew the tricks of the trade and learned the importance of teamwork and great communication.”

Studies also opened Stephen’s eyes to issues such as systemic institutional racism and the link between colonisation and poor outcomes for Māori.

Stephen has been DCM’s Manahautū (Director) for the past three years. Photo by John Tavoi.

At about 26 or 27, Stephen started to experience significant depression, which led to some job changes that – each in their own way – enriched his working life. “I was a probation officer at Corrections. I spent two years there, and again, I enjoyed it. I learned a lot about cycles of change, self-talk, how to shift negative thoughts, and how to work in high-risk situations.”

A new relationship led to a move to Wellington, where Stephen got a job with Te Roopu Awhina in Cannons Creek. “I had built my awareness of my culture and the impacts of colonisation and low economic outcomes through my studies, but I had not seen the level of deprivation I saw when I arrived in Porirua. On the flip side, I had never experienced the level of cultural diversity, pride and inclusion. I really felt the beauty of Māoridom and also the Pasifika migration to Porirua. It filled my basket of knowledge and understanding of communities and culture.”

Another role Stephen had was working for Maritime Radio. “We were the 111 service of the sea. I learned a lot and developed my skills in dealing with stressful situations – remaining calm for the benefit of the other person on the line.”

Stephen eventually moved into a management role at Porirua Whānau Centre, overseeing a team of social workers, counsellors, a youth team and a family violence prevention group. In addition, he managed the social housing portfolio, providing sustainable housing for whānau in the Porirua region.

“I learned to see the bigger picture and think about strategy – you do this, and it will impact that – it becomes a sort of natural progression.”

Stephen brought all his life experiences and skills to DCM, joining the team as Manahautū (Director) in late 2020, taking over from Stephanie McIntyre, who led DCM for 17 years.

Soon after joining DCM, Stephen also got married – to Tam – in February 2021, pictured here on their honeymoon in the Bay of Islands.

“I was very interested in homelessness and housing – but it’s not until you come to DCM that you get a pretty heavy thud of reality about what homelessness really looks like. Fortunately, we have an amazing team to deliver our services. I’m a big believer that how you treat people has a big say on your success as an organisation. People need to feel valued – like they’re a part of something. If you want the absolute best for your organisation and the best for the people you’re working with, you need to treat your staff like they are the most valuable asset.

“I ask, ‘What can I do for you so you can do what you need to do?’ I’ve learnt that this also needs to be accompanied by clarity – a shared understanding or shared motivation around what success looks like to DCM and the whānau we support.

“As a leader, I believe strongly in turning up as my best self. I try to do this by role-modelling our values and being my authentic self. Although I will admit that I can get that wrong at times, I’m also willing to be vulnerable and take responsibility for this. I believe an effective organisation starts from a foundation of trust. Trust in me, trust in each other, and trust in the steps we are all taking to reach our vision.”

Stephen and Tam with their blended whānau.

Looking at his vision for 2024, Stephen wants to see DCM grow our capability as an organisation so that we can continue to provide our services, but more effectively, with ever more significant impacts.

“I want to see our organisational capability grow, but also the capability of our leadership team. Over the years I learnt the differences between management and leadership. You need both skills in an organisation. Whereas management is about managing people day-to-day, leadership is about taking people on a journey with you to a destination.

“And the end result of our journey as DCM is not only to see our people housed – but also to see them connected, valued, and thriving in their communities.”

We mihi to Stephen for his courage and vulnerability in sharing his story with us.