Still Coming to Terms With Gareth Ward? So Am I.

Over the past week, I’ve written about what it means to face hard truths as a community. I’ve spoken about the bravery of the two young men who came forward, and the importance of recognising harm even when it’s wrapped in charm, power, or public approval.

Today, I want to turn the lens inward. Because as Gareth Ward is taken into custody, many of us are left with quieter questions — about what we believed, who we supported, and how we respond when our assumptions are shaken.

We all know the spotlight is on our community right now. The media is asking the question out loud, how could we vote for someone under this kind of cloud? And maybe you’ve had friends from outside the area ask you the same thing. It’s uncomfortable, and it can feel personal. But most of us were voting for the version of the person we thought we knew. And now, we’re being asked to hold that discomfort, to reflect, and to work out where we go from here, together.

Some of my friends, people I care about deeply, were strong supporters of Gareth. I haven’t asked them how they feel now. Maybe they’re unsure. Maybe they’re not ready to talk. And maybe I don’t know how, or maybe I don’t want to start the conversation.

But here’s what I do know: empathy matters. And not just empathy for others, empathy for ourselves too. It’s okay to say we didn’t know. It’s okay to say we’ve changed our minds. And it’s okay to feel conflicted when someone who once seemed worthy of our support is revealed to have caused harm. No amount of charm, power, or public approval excuses abuse. And the courage to admit we got it wrong — that is a form of strength too.

We don’t always get it right. We don’t always see everything at once. Most of us are just doing the best we can with what we know at the time. And sometimes we learn more, and our thinking changes. That’s not weakness. That’s growth.

It’s okay to say, “I don’t know.”
It’s okay to say, “I used to think that, but I see it differently now.”
It’s okay to change your mind without feeling ashamed.

Most of us know someone who has experienced abuse or wrongdoing. And many of us have asked ourselves quietly, “What would I have done in their place?” I know I have and honestly, there are moments where I don’t know if I would have handled it any differently.

That’s why I think the way forward isn’t about getting it perfect. It’s about being honest. It’s about giving ourselves, and each other, the space to reflect, to shift, and to keep learning.

We’re on the track. Let’s keep walking it, together.

BTW If you have a subscription to the SMH this is worthwhile read

He rots in jail for sex crimes, but this MP keeps his taxpayer-funded salary

#EmpathyMatters #LearningInPublic #ChangingMinds #MakingRoomForGrowth #CivicCourage #ReflectAndGrow #KiamaVoices #CommunityHealing

Gareth Ward Is in Custody. Now Let’s Talk About Real Courage.

Gareth Ward has now been taken into custody awaiting sentencing. And as our community processes that reality, something else is rising to the surface –  empathy.

I’ve heard it, and maybe you have too. People expressing sadness, disbelief, or even compassion for Gareth. That’s not wrong. Empathy is a good thing. It’s part of what makes us human. But it’s also a reminder of just how brave the two young men were who came forward.

Because they would have known, from the very beginning, that this wouldn’t be easy. They would have known that people would question them. That some would defend him. That there’d be talk about his helpfulness, his advocacy, his years of public service. That others would say, “People have done worse,” or “Good people sometimes do bad things.”

They would have known that if they were part of political or professional circles, people might ask, “Well, what did they expect?” That old narrative. They should have known the culture, the risk, the way things work.

And then, of course, the most familiar kind of deflection. The kind that used to get whispered about women in short skirts. The kind that quietly implies: maybe they brought this on themselves.

We’re still hearing versions of that now.

So when I say “victims”  I put that word in brackets, because I know not everyone is ready to see them that way. But let’s be honest: if they hadn’t come forward, there would be no conviction, no sentence, no reckoning. They’ve carried the weight of disbelief, delay, and public doubt  and still stood up.

So yes, feel empathy. Feel conflict. But let’s also feel awe.

Because this was never going to be a clean or easy process. And those two young men had every reason to stay silent, and every reason to think they would not to be believed.

They spoke anyway.

And now we get to ask: what kind of community do we want to be in response?

#GarethWard #VictimBravery #EmpathyAndAccountability #CivicResponsibility #JusticeMatters #CommunityReflection #SexualAssaultAwareness #BelieveVictims #HardConversations

Gareth Ward – When Conviction Isn’t the End of the Story

Over the weekend, I was invited to contribute to someone else’s blog post. This afternoon, I found myself speaking live on ABC radio. The topic? Gareth Ward – our local member of Parliament who, despite facing serious sexual assault charges, was re-elected by the people of Kiama. And who, as of Friday, has now been found guilty.

On Wednesday, he will be sentenced.

And if he refuses to resign, our community may be represented by someone serving time in prison. Let that sink in.

Constitutional law expert Professor Anne Twomey explains on her YouTube channel that under changes to the state’s constitution in 2000, conviction is considered to mean “once you have reached the end of the appeals process, if you choose to appeal, and not had the conviction overturned”. (Those still in contact with Ward say he is defiant and will appeal.) Source

Both sides of Parliament have asked for his resignation. The media is circling, not because this is a quirky sideshow, but because they can’t quite believe it either: how did a man charged with these crimes manage to keep his seat?

I’ve asked myself the same thing. And to be honest, I still don’t know the full answer.

What I do know is that our community is split. Some people feel vindicated. Others feel betrayed. Many more just don’t want to talk about it. You hear it in the awkward pauses, someone mentions the conviction, another person offers an opinion, someone else disagrees  and then silence. Then a change of subject.

It’s a clear example of how hard we find it, as a community, to have difficult conversations. Not just online, but in everyday life.

And here’s what’s even harder  – accepting that someone who appeared to be dedicated, effective, and focused on outcomes for the community could also have been abusing their power in deeply harmful ways.

The dissonance isn’t about personal warmth. It’s about the contradiction between public competence and private conduct, and our tendency to overlook troubling behaviour if we think someone is “getting things done.”

That contradiction isn’t new. We’ve seen it in religious institutions, in Hollywood, in politics. And still, every time, it unsettles us. We want the world to be simpler than it is.

It reminds me of what we’ve seen in the United States,  where Donald Trump, despite multiple criminal charges, has been elected president not once, but twice. It’s bizarre, but it also says something about how loyalty works. Once people commit to a political figure, it often doesn’t matter what comes to light. The story becomes about defending a side rather than confronting the facts. And we’re seeing a version of that play out here too.

So now we find ourselves in this strange place. A man has been convicted of serious crimes, and some people still defend him. Others want to move on. Others want answers. And many of us, myself included, are wondering what we do next.

I don’t have easy answers. I do have a strong opinion. But I also know I can’t force it on anyone else.

So instead, I want to ask some questions:
How do we build a political culture that values integrity over popularity?
– Why do we ignore red flags when they come from people we think are delivering results?
– What kind of leadership do we deserve  and what do we tolerate instead?
– What would it take for our community to stop whispering and start talking?
– And perhaps most importantly: How do we move forward without brushing this under the carpet?

Because at the heart of this are two young men who had the courage to come forward. That cannot be forgotten.

The data is clear: only 13% of sexual assault cases are reported to police. Just 1.5% to 3% result in a conviction.

So, when a jury delivers a guilty verdict, it matters. It shows the system can work, and it gives others hope that they’ll be heard.

And then there’s the timeline. These men waited almost five years for this case to be resolved. That kind of delay is traumatic in itself, it shows how long justice can take, and why so many victims don’t come forward.

We may not all agree on what should happen next. But we can agree that the courage it took to speak up deserves to be acknowledged, and that justice, when it comes, must mean something.

The ABC closed our interview with a question: What would I like to see happen next?

My answer

When we have the by-election, I would like to see our community put aside their commitment to being lifelong Liberal supporters, or lifelong Labor supporters, or lifelong Greens supporters, and truly listen to what these candidates have to say. Investigate what they have done for their communities. And make a decision based on this question, does this person represent my values?

#GarethWard #KiamaVotes #CommunityAccountability #LeadershipMatters #PoliticalIntegrity #CivicCourage #PowerAndTruth #HardConversations #JusticeAndTrust