Unlocking the Promise of Adolescence – Part 2 of 3

When we think about youth justice, the conversation often centers on punishment, discipline, or reform. But what if justice could do more than correct? What if it could unlock the power and potential of being a teenager?

The traditional justice system often overlooks deeper issues behind youth offending, particularly for Indigenous communities. In Aotearoa (New Zealand), Te Kōti Rangatahi (Youth Court) is reshaping youth justice by integrating tikanga Māori (Māori customs and values) into legal proceedings. This marae-based youth court fosters accountability, restoration, and reintegration through cultural identity and community support.

Te Kōti Rangatahi operates on marae instead of courtrooms, offering an alternative to the mainstream Youth Court. A marae is a communal and sacred space at the heart of Māori community. Many Māori youth are disproportionately affected by the justice system, and this initiative restores mana (dignity) and strengthens whānau (family) connections by incorporating cultural practices.

That’s exactly what we witnessed during our visit.

This wasn’t just a court. It was a circle of care.

There were no robes, no raised bench, no cold formalities. The judge sat at the same level as the youth. The elders spoke softly but firmly. Families cried. There were hugs, songs, and human connection.

The message to the young person was clear: “You’re not just another case… we see you.” “You are someone we care about.”

Te Kōti Rangatahi is built upon foundational Māori values. Whakapapa emphasizes genealogy and identity, encouraging youth to understand their roots. Whanaungatanga strengthens family and community ties. Aroha and manaakitanga foster compassion and care. Most importantly, these values are about upholding the mana of the young person in a system that takes it away — their dignity, prestige and inherent value as people.

Mistakes weren’t ignored. But they weren’t weaponized either. Accountability was central — but it came from love, not fear. Elders scolded like aunties. The judge coached like a mentor.

“We all did dumb things as teens. The difference is, some of us didn’t get caught.”

Youth were asked to introduce themselves not just by name, but by naming their ancestors, their mountains, their rivers. This court didn’t just respond to behavior. It nurtured identity.

“When you know who you are, where you come from, it gives you that confidence to walk into your future.”

The process also emphasized real repair: writing apology letters, offering koha (gifts) to those harmed, doing community service. Victims were invited to participate, creating the chance for genuine reconciliation. “When you harm someone, you’ve got to put it right—a balance.”

Support didn’t end in the courtroom. Young people were connected with mentors, counseling, education, and cultural programs. It wasn’t about punishment — it was about possibility.

The success of Te Kōti Rangatahi is clear. Participants have lower recidivism rates, a stronger cultural identity, and a renewed sense of purpose. Te Kōti Rangatahi is more than a court—it is a movement that reimagines justice through cultural empowerment. 

It’s easy to see teens as a problem to solve. But this approach invites us to see adolescence as a promise to keep. It invites adults, communities and system to be accountable for guiding and supporting their youth to be the best versions of themselves—and this includes accountability. For communities facing youth justice challenges, Te Kōti Rangatahi provides an inspiring example of justice rooted in culture, compassion, and community.

“Every contact between an individual and the justice system is an opportunity for disempowerment or empowerment. And that’s what Te Kōti Rangatahi is about—empowerment.”

“It’s about bringing back our indigenous ways of resolving conflict, of holding our people accountable in ways that make sense for our communities.”