Kim Workman: My father

I love Father's Day for two reasons.

The first is to give us young fullas a chance to thank our fatherly figure in our lives for helping to mould us into the people we are today. It doesn't have to be a male - single mothers or whoever also do fantastic jobs, too.

It's also a healthy reminder for me to call my dad, Kim, and let him know how I'm going whether in Auckland, Rarotonga or wherever.

This year there won't be such an opportunity. Dad is currently at a silent retreat, where he'll be technologyless for a week or so (this is from my memory at least). It's almost ironic that the man who talks upfront with people for a living has decided voluntarily to give it all up for a week, and boy I find that inspiring.

So, as a result of me not being able to talk to him about how I'm going, I thought I'd talk to you about my love and adoration for the man I am proud to call my father, Robert Kinsela (Kim) Workman.

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Born on September 9, 1940, dad has always had a way with the piano. He'd tickle the ivories throughout his life and even played in Christmas parades growing up with a band under the banner of "Kim Workman and the Ambassadors".

What an ambassador dad has become since.

Dad has worked in the area of justice for at least 30 years. Having been recruited as a cop in 1960 alongside another young policeman known as Max Jones, dad focused on working with youth at the local high schools in the Wairarapa area.

Having gone through the system for a number of years, dad became the head of prisions in 1989 and was in the job until 1993.

He has had a career that has brought upon many changes, including working in the Police, the Office of the Ombudsman, the State Services Commission, the Department of Maori Affairs and the Ministry of Health.

Amongst all of these changes, however, one value has remained firm:

People can change.

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One of the biggest things I admire about my dad is he isn't afraid to go into bat for people who perhaps aren't seen in a positive light.

Gang members, convicted criminals, people we fear or even turn a blind eye to. Whoever they are they are all people to my father, and I respect him thoroughly for that.

And they do too. I distinctly recall dad telling of a time when gang members were invited to a conference, not to scare anybody or force

These people who are excluded from our community are welcomed by my father and, as a result they showed them one of the greatest gestures of respect in the Maori world - the spiritual unity through a hongi.

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So why is dad staying silent for a week-odd?

He has finally realised that technology has had so much of an influence on his daily life that it was time to almost reboot; to restore the natural wairua [spirit] inside him that had been drained by a new message or an imminent phone call.

He'll be back in no time, and there will come a time when those outstanding emails will be responded to and the missed calls will be addressed.

For now though, it's about getting back to life as it used to be ahead of such a drastic change in technology.

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Just before I finish I wanted to thank my father on behalf of all of those who recall him throughout their time in his company. Living in Rarotonga I know of at least two people who recall working with him.

One is Max Jones, the young cop who dad started alongside in the Wairarapa and the second is this country's minister of agriculture and health, Nandi Glassie, who dad worked with in Rotorua for a time.

Dad's legacy is one that is everlasting, in my opinion. His work with Rethinking Crime and Punishment has continued to change how a nation thinks about "locking everybody up". It needed somebody to light the fire, and it was my father who held the matches.

For that dad I thank you. Not just as a son, but as a fellow man and friend. Meitaki maata my brother, and I look forward to hearing you tickle those ivories again soon on my return.

Love you dad, happy father's day.

Matiu