THE NELSON MAIL Saturday, October 8, 2011 — 15

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Brothers&sisters

All over Nelson, dozens of young people and adults whose pathswould normally never cross are forming firm friendships, thanksto a scheme sharing life’s experiences between the generations.Naomi Arnold reports.

BIG BROTHERS, BIG SISTERS❚ 110 young people matched up in Nelson❚ 60 young people on the waiting list; 40 of them boys❚ Longest relationship: 8 years 10 months.❚ 10 per cent of mentors are Maori; 30 per cent of young people are Maori.❚ Initial commitment: 1 year.

Good friends: Phoenix Mitchell hangs out with his ‘‘big brother’’ mentor, Russell Scott.

Two bakers: Kathy Solly, left, and Jayde Davidson spend some quality time in the kitchen.

Gavin Millar

Next week, Russell Scott andPhoenix Mitchell are goingto build a chookhouse.They’ve already made abirdhouse, and one after-noon they built the

beginnings of a treehouse in the puriritree in the backyard of Phoenix’s Nelsonhome. After Mr Scott left, Phoenixinvited his next-door neighbour over andthe two boys spent the evening by torch-light in the backyard, adding a ricketydeck.

Phoenix is Mr Scott’s Little Brother, asomewhat naff label for what amounts toa busy, easy, rough-and-tumble friend-ship between the boy and the man.

They’ve been hanging out with eachother for almost 21⁄2 years now. Theirs isone of about 110 Big Brothers Big Sistersrelationships in Nelson, and it suitsthem both.

Phoenix, 11, is home-schooled with adad living in Australia, while Mr Scott,40, is a builder with a big smile who likesdoing stuff. He umms and aahs whenasked why he originally signed up forthe scheme.

‘‘Because he didn’t have a kid,’’Phoenix says. ‘‘Yeah, and look what I’vegot now,’’ Mr Scott shoots back. True, hehas no children. But that’s not why hebecame a mentor.

‘‘You hear a lot about youth troubleand think, what can you do about it?This is a tangible thing you can do tohopefully make a difference, [and] I liketo think I’ve made a positive difference.’’

An ‘‘uncle’’ is probably a closer namefor the relationship, he thinks.

‘‘You’ve got to be a little bit more re-sponsible than a big brother would be –certainly more than my big brotherswere.’’

For Phoenix, it’s the chance to do reg-ular ‘‘boy things’’, his mother Karen Mit-chell says. Phoenix and Mr Scott meetabout once a week, and they go out hunt-ing in Teal Valley, for bike rides andbush walks, collect firewood, or head upinto the Richmond Hills and scratcharound looking for fossils.

Phoenix shows off the results of theirsojourns – a large rock inlaid with theimpression of ancient shells, and rabbitskins wrapped up in the freezer. Theywere out on the lawn at 11.30pm onenight, skinning and gutting them, andnow Phoenix is researching rabbitrecipes on the internet, learning how tocure the hides, and looking into what hecould make out of them.

‘‘He’s a true-blue boy that likes to doreal adventure stuff, run and jump andclimb,’’ Ms Mitchell says. ‘‘They likedoing heaps of the same stuff. It’s a reallycool match.

‘‘I really enjoy that it’s a regular thing,It’s something to look forward to – thatsomeone’s going to give their valuabletime on a regular basis. For me it’s reallynice to see that he’s having fun anddoing some cool projects with a male rolemodel – just some positive activities, andthings I wouldn’t necessarily do withhim, like building.’’

‘‘Or hunting,’’ Phoenix says. ‘‘I’m try-ing to get her to get her gun licence.’’

Nelson was the birthplace of the pro-gramme in New Zealand 14 years ago.

Now there are 14 Big Brothers BigSisters programmes nationwide. Butprogramme director Gavin Millar saysthe name is a bit of a misnomer.

‘‘It really is any caring adult,’’ he says.‘‘My personal philosophy is that every-one needs a mentor outside the family. Inthe old days we used to provide itthrough extended family, or evenneighbours. And nowadays that’s maybenot so prevalent.’’

He himself mentors a boy ofintermediate-school age. ‘‘Just seeing hissmile when I turn up every day is great.You know you’re being a positive influ-ence on a person.’’

The young people mentored are agedbetween seven and 16 and are mostlyfrom single-parent families. They’rematched up with a well-screened, trainedadult volunteer who has committed to bea big brother or big sister for at least ayear.

There are two schemes; one is school-based with the mentor meeting theyoung person at their school for an houra week during term time, and the otheris community-based, with contact out-side school time. There are also regularcamps for mentors and their charges.

Most of the money to run the Nelsonprogramme and its four staff comes fromthe New Zealand Lotteries Grants Boardand the Canterbury Community Trust,with local bank SBS having just come onboard to provide funding.

Referrals come through parents whomight feel that their child would benefitfrom having another interested adult intheir lives. None of the children are re-ferred by an agency, so they’re not typi-cal ‘‘problem children’’, Mr Millar says,although some have difficult familybackgrounds. Often it’s a stable family,but the children just need an extra adultaround to pay them attention.

There’s a 24-hour contact service for

‘‘issues’’, and Mr Millar wears a pager24/7.

But in two years it has never gone off,and he says a relationship has neverbroken down. A mentoring co-ordinatorkeeps tabs on how things are progressingand to monitor any problems – and MrMillar says it’s not their job to provide‘‘serious intervention’’.

‘‘We might broker something wherewe bring in Child Youth and Family . . .but it’s not our mentor’s job to do that.’’Nor is it to ‘‘be Santa Claus’’, spendinglots of money or lavishing gifts on theyoung person.

‘‘We’ll take most, if not all [youngpeople], but the trick for us is thematch,’’ Mr Millar says. ‘‘Our hardestpart is matching some of the kids whomay be 15 or 16. Not all of them are easy.Some come from really desperatebackgrounds. But most come frombackgrounds where they just need aboost to their self-esteem.’’

Abig brother or big sister doesn’thave to commit much time – anhour a week. ‘‘Our biggest thingis getting across to people that

it’s as big or as little a commitment asyou can make it,’’ he says. ‘‘Consistencyis what it is about.’’

Programme staff work to make surethere’s a match between the pair, whichis always same-sex. Some of the interestsare pretty simple; on Mr Millar’s booksis an 83-year-old grandmother who justplays games with her ‘‘little sister’’.

For Kathy Solly and little sister JaydeDavidson, 11, it’s baking. The pair havemet once a week at Auckland PointSchool since December. They go forwalks down to the marina, or visit thecity council where Ms Solly is a cus-tomer services officer; but mostly they’llspend an hour baking in the school’skitchen, making pikelets, slices andbiscuits.

‘‘Anything we can mix, cook, and eatin an hour,’’ Ms Solly, 46, says. ‘‘Jaydebecomes Miss Popular at 10 to three.’’

Ms Solly has children of her own, butis enjoying developing a relationshipwith a new young person. It’s her secondlittle sister at the school; she chose theschool-based programme rather than the

community-based one, because it was abit easier on her schedule.

‘‘Jayde’s lots of fun; she’s pretty cool tohang out with. It’s nice to be able tospend some time one-on-one with her.’’

Jayde’s father, Peter Davidson, sayshis daughter has become more confidentsince getting to know Ms Solly. ‘‘It’s agood idea. Jayde seems to really look

forward to coming to school onWednesdays, and anything that getsthem to look forward to school is good.

‘‘She has definitely been more outgo-ing. She has also been getting into otherthings – after-school programmes andthe church choir. I just think all theselittle things help build up her confidence.She’s better at talking to people because

she has had that one-on-one with Kathy.’’Mr Millar says there’s compelling evi-

dence to show mentoring works, andthat children ‘‘blossom’’ with the extraattention received. An American studyshowed a slew of benefits for children,including that they are less likely to skipschool, less likely to begin using illegaldrugs and alcohol, are more confident at

school and get on better with their fam-ilies.

More than 64 per cent developed morepositive attitudes towards school, andbenefits also included being more likelyto trust teachers, better relationshipswith peers and adults, more confidence,and expressing their feelings better.

Mr Millar says though there are moreyoung people than they can handle, it’sdifficult to find mentors, particularlymale. There are about 60 young peopleon the list – 40 of them boys – waiting fora match. About 360 matches have beenmade in Nelson in total.

‘‘All we want is for [mentors] to spendtime,’’ he says. ‘‘Our expectations arewalking the dog on a beach, flying a kite,playing games . . . the aim is to create afriendship that can exist outside the pro-gramme.

‘‘If you were to ask me what the ulti-mate aim of the programme is, it’s prob-ably to show a young person that there’sso much out there that you might not beexposed to. By meeting someone from adifferent background . . . it opens thewindow to what could be.’’

The formal relationship stops whenthe child turns 18, but it’s a friendshipthat can continue through to adulthood.

‘‘We hope there’s a long-term bondbuilt, so the young person always hassomeone to go to. Several [mentors] havegone to weddings, or been present at thebirth of a child; there are lots of thingsthat carry on beyond us.’’

Nelson’s Ruane Kendrick, 18, isformally saying goodbye to his bigbrother, 62-year-old Peter Lucas, afteralmost 10 years. But they’ll stay friends.

‘‘I had an older male role model to bethere the majority of my life whoreplaced the position my dad probablyshould have been there for,’’ MrKendrick says. But when they firststarted out, he had no idea the relation-ship would last this long. ‘‘A few timesduring the process I thought ‘Oh, maybeI’m over this’, but I stuck with it – it wasthe best thing to do.

‘‘I enjoyed having Peter there guidingme the best way through up into man-hood.’’

Now he’s thinking of becoming a men-tor himself later in life.

‘‘It all starts off as a bit formal and you’reworrying about what you’re going to donext weekend, but it soon develops intomore like a normal friendship,’’ Mr Lu-cas says.

‘‘I’m hopeful that I’ve been some sortof a role model for him, and been a stablemale in his life.

‘‘It has been great, it has been good tosee a boy grow up into a young man anddevelop along the way.

‘‘My kids had grown up and moved outand it was an opportunity to carry onwith the fun things I used to do with myown kids – more often than not just goo-fing off.’’

For Atawhai’s Turhan Djemal the pro-cess has also been worthwhile. The busy42-year-old owns his own software com-pany, Deep Blue Solutions, and has an8-year-old daughter, but in Novemberlast year he starting mentoring an11-year-old boy. Mr Djemal’s passion isall things trolley derby, including trolleydesigning and building; so too is the11-year-old’s. They built and racedtrolleys in Kiwi Flyer, the movie filmedrecently in Nelson.

‘‘I guess I’d been wanting to do some-thing useful for a long time,’’ Mr Djemalsays. ‘‘I felt like I was very lucky in mychildhood.

‘‘My parents were always there andalways good to me and I had a good life.I was feeling a bit selfish I guess; I neverreally do much for anyone else and I’malways really busy.

‘‘I thought enough was enough, stopmaking excuses and give a little bit back.I looked around at different things andnoticed a few of my friends were doingBBBS and I thought if they can do it, I’mrunning out of excuses pretty rapidly.’’

The scheme’s been harder than heexpected, but ‘‘really good’’.

‘‘Having a child myself I didn’t think itwould be that difficult. But actually get-ting to know somebody can be quitehard. Just breaking any barriers downand getting them to talk . . . it might be ayear or two before they see you as afriend and start opening up.’’

‘‘It’s a different kind of relationshipthan [they have] with their parents,’’ headds. ‘‘You try to be a mate really – justone with a lot more experience.’’

INSIDE:Meet the authors 16Mike McRoberts on the frontline 17