Doing it for Dad

Derek Stubbings’ face lights up when he talks about his kids, and with good reason.

“I’ve got nine kids and nine mokos,” he says proudly.

“And the 10th moko is due in May.”

He’s rightly proud of his kids and the more we talk, the more it becomes clear that they’ve played a hugely important role in helping him not only get his life back on track, but turn it around and grow into a proud soldier for the Lord and flag sergeant for the Ngāmotu Corps of Te Ope Whakaora.

It hasn’t been easy road and Derek is the first to admit he’s been no angel, but with his whānau backing him and support from the Ngāmotu Corps, he’s well on the way to a brighter future for himself and his growing whānau.

With the word Mongrel tattooed across his chest, there’s no hiding his background, although Derek says faith has always been a part of his life.

“Mum was Catholic. She didn’t preach it to us but we just knew when she’s reading the Bible just leave her alone. She used to bless us before we’d go to bed and bless us when we were leaving the house. But once I hit about 10 years old, I had a vision of how I would like to live, so I presented myself to the Mormons.”

He clearly remembers the day he was ordained in the Church of Latter Day Saints.  

“Christmas Day, 1986, one o’clock.”

But, as Derek says, life can get on top of you when you’re a young teenager.

“I had the opportunity to go and study within the priesthood. The decision was coming up about whether I’d like to pursue this for the year as a young priest. But the brain had already half turned around and the head started turning away, you know. So I went outside and I never went back in.”

It was a life changing decision.

“Things started to fall and stick and crumble at age 16,” he says.

Things went dowhill and eventually, in 2019, he was jailed for three and a half years on a range of assault charges.

“During that time being incarcerated and maybe two years to go, I thought my best chance of parole was down the track. And I thought I’ll just do my time.”

He says he didn’t qualify for any reintegration or release to work programmes but wasn’t aware that his children had been working behind the scenes to get help for their dad.

“I found out during the time I was serving for domestic violence that my children had put out a support call to help dad. I think the only one that picked that up was Chris (Taylor) from the Salvation Army.”

“Chris mentioned that they’d been out there looking for support and I got a bit gobsmacked.”

Derek wasn’t convinced he’d get the help he needed but at a hui with Chris, his whānau and the probation service, he quickly realised his kids were determined to find a solution.

“I’m far from an optimist, but once I had that first hui on the video camera, I came to the realisation that the kids weren’t backing  down,” he says.

They got him onto the Salvation Army prisoner reintegration programme and that was his first interaction with the organisation.

“I cleaned myself up and come time to come back to New Plymouth, I thought I’d give it a go. Open the door and see how you like it, and here I am.”

While the 12-month programme presented its own challenges, Derek says it was within himself that the real struggle took place.

“It was more so compliance with myself, and how to reintegrate back with my babies and the community. I sort of needed to be resurrected from the inside rather than jump straight on the bandwagon.”

It wasn’t a perfect 12 months, being back in the same community, surrounded by the same temptations which he’d already paid the price for.

“I made myself scarce for a couple of months and there was a lot of trip ups. You’re thinking, do you get back on the horse or what. It was like, which door do I walk through. I knew I had to go through one door and I looked behind me and there’s my babies, they never left my side,” he says.

“So I came to the realisation that if I keep walking this path, finish my reintegration and probation, it meant I would have my hands free to make a future from here on in. Pick yourself up, you know, and make things happen with your own hands.”

He says God revealed a plan for him.

“Go back to school, get up some credits and graduate with something so the community could have me back working. Plus regain all those attributes we just need as a person to get back into mainstream society.”

He’s doing that now, painting houses while also studying mental health and addiction and eventually aiming to complete a social work degree.

He says the support of Te Ope Whakaora has been crucial and he became more involved with the church through the Māori Ministries.

“The spirit started to wake up then,” he says.

It was during this healing phase of his life that then-Corps Captain Karl Foreman asked if he’d be interested in becoming a soldier and once again he faced a big decision.

“I didn’t have much to offer but I like to learn and I like to work. I said I’d love to but I have too much respect for the place. Not to mention I still had a vape, still had alcohol. Hard drugs wasn’t so much of a problem as the drinking.”

Once again, his children showed him the way.

“Once they knew, they said, ‘don’t be half-arsed about it dad, you can’t do this half pai’.”

In the end it was an easy decision and one he’s happy to have made.

“I think I will find my spiritual being here,” he says.

“Definitely 100% of my path is here, every need is met. Honestly, the Salvation Army helped me raise my family up. Through the reintegration programme and housing for one of my daughters. I cover a lot of the deed factors within the army just through my own life, me and my babies.

“They certainly straightened my spirit out, I’ve just got to grow the brain now. But yeah, it’s different now, it’s awesome brother.”