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Become a courageous leader and learn how to take risks, defy limitations and inspire the extraordinary In Leadership Matters, celebrated humanitarian Peter Baines OAM shares remarkable stories and unique insights about leadership in challenging times. Drawing on more than 20 years of experience in leading others through crises and disasters, Peter demonstrates how great leaders rise above adversity. He unpacks how leadership skills such as courage, compassion, and integrity are essential for finding a way forward and triumphing against the odds. Leadership Matters shares the leadership lessons that have emerged from Peter's decades of work in international counterterrorism and disaster response. In particular, it reveals how the devastating aftermath of Thailand's Boxing Day Tsunami has shaped Peter's understanding of what it means to be a true leader. You'll learn how Peter founded a multi-million-dollar charity to help those he met along the way. And you'll learn the principles that have guided him in the decades since that transformative event: how to lead and inspire others as you work together to achieve the extraordinary. Leadership Matters will inspire you to: * Stop making excuses and take action * Find the unique solutions that are required by unique challenges * Motivate your team by being present and fostering integrity * Find courage for difficult decisions and compassion for hard conversations Leadership Matters: Stories and Insights for Leaders, Achievers and Visionaries shows how great leaders can find their purpose and make a real, vital impact on the world around them.
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Seitenzahl: 331
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
INTRODUCTION
PART I: THE LEADERS
CHAPTER 1: FOCUS ON RESULTS, NOT EXCUSES
CHAPTER 2: MEET UNIQUE CHALLENGES WITH UNIQUE SOLUTIONS
CHAPTER 3: EMBRACE COURAGEOUS LEADERSHIP
CHAPTER 4: BE PRESENT AND SHOW YOU CARE
CHAPTER 5: LEAVE A LASTING IMPRESSION
PART II: THE ACHIEVERS
CHAPTER 6: MANAGE RISK, DON’T FEAR IT
CHAPTER 7: MODEL A LIFE WELL LIVED
CHAPTER 8: BELIEVE IN THE FUTURE
CHAPTER 9: FIND CLARITY THROUGH ACTION
PART III: THE VISIONARIES
CHAPTER 10: FIND A JOURNEY THAT FEEDS YOUR SOUL
THE PEOPLE
THE CHANCE TO SUPPORT OTHERS
THE ‘TRACEY MOMENT’
TIME TO THINK
THE MEDITATIVE STATE OF RIDING
THE PHYSICAL EXERTION
THE PHYSICAL ENVIRONMENT
THE SHARING
THE GOOD THAT COMES
THE END OF THE RIDE
CHAPTER 11: ENGAGE HEART, HEAD AND HANDS
CHAPTER 12: PLAN YOUR EXIT STRATEGY FROM DAY ONE
CHAPTER 13: ADOPT A LIMITLESS MINDSET
CONCLUSION
THAI NAMES AND PLACES
ABOUT HANDS
END USER LICENSE AGREEMENT
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
About the author
Acknowledgements
Introduction
Table of Contents
Begin Reading
Conclusion
Thai names and places
About Hands
End User License Agreement
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PETER BAINES
First published in 2023 by John Wiley & Sons Australia, Ltd
Level 4, 600 Bourke St, Melbourne Victoria 3000, Australia
© Soulful Experiences Pty Ltd 2023
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
ISBN: 978-1-394-17697-7
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (for example, a fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism or review), no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, communicated or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission. All inquiries should be made to the publisher at the address above.
Cover design by Wiley
Cover Image: © elenabs / Getty Images
Disclaimer
The material in this publication is of the nature of general comment only, and does not represent professional advice. It is not intended to provide specific guidance for particular circumstances and it should not be relied on as the basis for any decision to take action or not take action on any matter which it covers. Readers should obtain professional advice where appropriate, before making any such decision. To the maximum extent permitted by law, the author and publisher disclaim all responsibility and liability to any person, arising directly or indirectly from any person taking or not taking action based on the information in this publication.
To CT, the journey without you would be slow, boring and likely predictable.
Peter Baines OAM, one of Australia's foremost leadership experts, has road-tested leadership the hard way. In his 22 years with the NSW Police he led teams responding to acts of terrorism and natural disasters on a scale not previously experienced by Australian police.
Peter was part of the leadership team that travelled to Bali in the aftermath of the bombings in 2002, and in early 2005 he was called to lead international teams in response to the Boxing Day tsunami in South-East Asia. He headed up multiple rotations into Thailand tasked with identifying those who had died. His leadership theories were fully tested in this harrowing environment.
After witnessing the devastating effects of the tsunami, creating sustainable leadership became a passion. Having been especially deeply touched by the number of children left without parents by the disaster, he was inspired to set up an organisation that could make a real difference in the lives of these children. In late 2005 he founded Hands Across the Water to raise funds for, and awareness about, the orphaned children of Thailand.
Hands has raised more than $30 million to date. They have built several children's homes across Thailand, purchased a rubber plantation to create a sustainable and regular income, constructed a community centre in the Khao Lak region of Thailand and a Digital Learning Centre in the northeast. The charity now has operations in seven different locations in Thailand and provides a home for several hundred children every night, but its main focus is on the long-term future of the children and the communities in which they live. They have also supported more than 30 children through university, all of whom have graduated and look forward to a life of choice rather than chance.
A unique approach of the charity has been their focus on creating meaningful shared experiences for their supporters, and a cornerstone event on their calendar is the long-distance bike rides in Thailand that Peter leads throughout the year.
His final years with the NSW Police were spent on secondment to the National Institute of Forensic Science, where he worked on national and international capacity-building projects around counterterrorism and leadership. He spent time advising Interpol in France and the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime in South-East Asia.
Peter was engaged by the Government of Saudi Arabia following the deadly floods in Jeddah in 2010 to review their response and provide advice on crisis mitigation and leadership. In 2011 he deployed to Japan in response to the tsunami that claimed thousands of lives there.
Peter has received numerous awards, including an Order of Australia Medal in 2014, for his international humanitarian work. In 2016 he was awarded the Most Admirable Order of the Direkgunabhorn (Fifth Class) by the King of Thailand. In 2010 he was a NSW finalist at the Australian of the Year awards. He was the first Australian to be awarded the international honour of a Rotary Professional Excellence Award in 2008. He received the NSW Police Service Medal and the Australian Federal Police Operations Medal for his work in Asia.
He was the first NSW Police Officer to be awarded the Humanitarian Overseas Service Medal and Australian National Medal. He has completed university studies in Law and Forensic Science and postgraduate studies in Management.
Today Peter helps businesses build effective sustainable leadership programs through the unique mix of his leadership and corporate social responsibility initiatives. He is Director of International Operations for Hands Across the Water and sits on a number of boards.
Peter has written two previous books, Hands Across the Water, published by Pan MacMillan, and Doing Good by Doing Good, published by Wiley.
Peter has three adult children, Lachie, Kels and Jack, and one grandchild, little Patrick. Peter and his wife Claire divide their time between their farm in the Capertee Valley and Terrigal on the Central Coast. In addition to their continued focus on supporting the kids and communities of Thailand through Hands, Peter and Claire have established an ecotourism business, welcoming guests to what they call the meeting point between the stunning natural environment and modern luxury.
In all that Peter and Claire do they are ably assisted by their springer spaniels Burton and Frankie.
You can connect with peter via email [email protected]
These acknowledgements are less about the writing of the book and more about those who have contributed to the experiences that have given me the opportunity to write again.
If our best experiences in life are those shared then I am blessed to share life and all that it offers with my wife, Claire. Each adventure we take on is more achievable and enjoyable when we face it together. You bring compassion, empathy and a beautiful soul to all that we do. My worth and personal share price rose when you joined me and everyone is grateful for that.
Lachie, Rea and Little Patty, Kels and Josh, Jack and Jords, life is just quite simply better with all of you guys and I can't imagine it without you. Chris and Wendy, thank you. Life and all that we face is achievable with your support, without it, I'm not so sure.
There are few people who have contributed more to my life since the formation of Hands than Kay Spencer, our chairman. Your devotion to the children and communities of Thailand is second to none and a more loyal person would be hard to find. You see beyond the faults and transgressions that we make in life, and always look for and believe in the best in people.
The past and present decision makers of the members and suppliers of the Narta group who, since 2007 and the San Francisco conference, have supported Hands beyond measure. The balance is unevenly tipped in our favour in the flow of value, but the positive change you have brought to the lives of so many is immeasurable.
The past and present board members of Hands in Australia, New Zealand and Thailand, thank you for the contribution to improving the lives of those we choose to support.
Dale and Katherine Beaumont. In 2013 you made a very personal and professional decision to support Hands and bring your immense talents to our cause. You connect business with social impact and in doing so create positive futures for your community and that of Hands.
To the many members of the real estate industry who choose to travel to Thailand and ride with us, you bring positive change to the lives of the kids and communities.
Each and every contributor to Hands is valued. Since our first ride in 2009 we have been fortunate to welcome hundreds of riders and thousands of supporters into the Hands community. Without the riders and without their supporters we're unable to do what we do. It's a humbling experience to watch the community grow based on our contributions.
I offer my deep appreciation to those who have made a positive contribution to the work of Hands. My commitment is to continue to explore ways to bring positive change to the lives of the children and communities we support.
Finally, I very much appreciate the support of the entire team at Wiley who got this from a concept to a book. Thank you.
I don't believe that we can have life experiences without the opportunity to learn from them, though much will depend on whether or not we are open to the learning. My experience is that the best learnings happen outside the classroom. It is often when life gets messy, complicated, even a bit dirty, that we learn the most about ourselves and about those around us.
In Leadership Matters, I share with you a collection of my own learnings from the rich experiences I have been fortunate to enjoy. It is the people I have shared those experiences with who have contributed most to my learnings. Many of these lessons were not obvious to me at the time; it is only when I have taken time to reflect that I have recognised the blessed life I have been offered.
The book is broken into three parts to focus on, respectively, Leaders, Achievers and Visionaries. Part I looks at how a range of courageous Leaders, faced with difficult circumstances, have navigated those challenges. I examine the contexts and the unique solutions they applied.
When their progress runs up against overwhelming odds, sometimes against logic, the Achievers get the job done. In Part II we'll review how they succeed, not because of the absence of challenge or fear, but because they are determined to overcome it. They keep going when others would quit. They're not afraid to take risks or make mistakes, because they understand that doing so is part of the learning process and of every success story.
In Part III we meet the Visionaries. They are the vanguard leaders who will meet the challenges of our times. They view life and leadership with fresh eyes, unconstrained by received wisdom and convention, actively challenging their own and others' preconceived limitations. They understand the importance of self, of feeding our soul, and the value of meaningful shared experiences.
In Leadership Matters, my third book, I document the lessons I have learned that I consider most important in building strong leaders. Importantly, I challenge the increasing prevalence in organisations of risk avoidance. We can always find reasons not to do something, but I have learned that some of our greatest achievements depend on our waiving the rules and stepping outside the boundaries imposed by others.
I worked with the NSW Police for 22 years, the major portion of that time devoted to the Forensic Services Command investigating major crime scenes, suspicious deaths and matters likely to appear before the coroner or supreme courts. Internationally, I contributed to the forensic investigations of both the Bali bombings in 2002 and the Boxing Day tsunami in 2004.
My work in Thailand in the aftermath of the tsunami would have the biggest impact on my personal and professional life and shape their future direction. I had worked outside of Australia in the area of counterterrorism before leaving the police to focus on the charity Hands Across the Water, which I founded in 2005 to support children in Thailand left without parents.
Leaving the police to establish Hands would introduce me to a life in which I discovered that the richest rewards flowed from giving without expectation. I was soon invited to share my personal experiences and stories of leadership on stages across the globe, which in turn helped to support the change we could achieve in Thailand.
This book is directed at current or aspiring leaders, but not solely so. The contextual leadership lessons can be readily incorporated into your own personal life, whether or not you see yourself as a leader. One of the most valuable take-aways in this book is the invitation to just start.
I have witnessed death and tragedy in my professional career on a scale that separates me from the overwhelming majority of the population. If there has been one gift from that exposure to the worst of humanity it has been to witness the best of humanity. I have also learned that we need to enjoy what we do or change what we do. To live a life with our greatest dreams unrealised is to settle for a lesser life than we owe ourselves and those we love.
Leaders choose to write their own story rather than leaving it to others. They challenge the rules that others accept without question. They are creative, innovative, and step forward when others step back.
These leaders make themselves known when we're presented with unique challenges. They embrace the difficult and the darkness to bring clarity and light. They see crisis and disaster as testing grounds for true leadership.
You will remember them. They leave lasting impressions not necessarily because of their advanced technical skills but because they care about people. Their goal is to build for the greater good rather than for personal reward. They look to take others on the journey with them, rather than forging ahead alone in search of glory.
There will always be a reason to decide not to do something, and there will always be people who offer up excuses. My advice? Focus on results and let others focus on the excuses. When we embark on a journey that truly feeds our soul, whatever that might be, it's funny how often we find a way to succeed despite the thousands of reasons, logical and less so, why we shouldn't.
When Gill, a colleague from the Thames Valley Police in the UK with whom I worked during my third rotation into Thailand, asked me if I wanted to help support a group of kids in Thailand who were without family or home, saying ‘yes’ didn't seem that big a deal to me. To be honest, it probably didn't make much sense given the personal circumstances I found myself in at the time, and even on reflection it doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'm glad I did it.
During my tours to Thailand in 2005 my marriage had come to an end and I found myself living a financially challenged life. We had three kids in private school and a decent mortgage without a lot of excess once the bills were paid. So adding the rent and running costs of a second home without a change in income was at best an exercise in creative accounting. After the bills were paid I was left with $80 a fortnight to live on, which included feeding the kids when I had them. I was still working in the police full time, and due to my rank as a Police Inspector I no longer had the opportunity to earn overtime, so what I had was all I had.
The truth is, at the time of starting Hands my personal life could not have been in a more dire state. I was at the lowest point in my life — mentally, physically and financially broken. But for some reason making a commitment to help the kids of Thailand left without parents seemed the right thing to do. As it turned out, the positive effect Hands has had on my life is immeasurable and I will be eternally grateful for the gift it has given me.
So, for whatever reason, when Gill posed the question, saying yes just seemed like the right answer. Over the years I've had many conversations with people who have assumed that setting up the organisation was a way of dealing with the trauma of working in Thailand, that in some way it was a therapeutic exercise for me. That might sound logical, but quite simply it wasn't the truth.
I had spent my entire professional life dealing with victims and their families who have suffered the kind of loss that most families thankfully will never have to encounter. And the further my career progressed, the greater the scale of loss I was dealing with.
Very early on in my police career, my partner and I had less than five years' experience between us. We were both just 22 years old, so very junior in the force and, dare I say it, in lived life experience. Not long after starting night shift at Cabramatta Police Station we were called to the scene of motor vehicle collision at the intersection of the Hume Highway and Cabramatta Road. It was a ‘persons trapped’ accident, a direct result of high speed and an inexperienced driver. Both occupants of the vehicle were trapped but released in a critical condition and taken to nearby Liverpool Hospital.
The driver died as a result of his injuries on the way to hospital, which meant that among our other duties we had to deliver the death message to his parents. Since they were living apart this meant delivering the message twice. We also took family members to the mortuary for the formal identification process, and as we returned to the patrol car the police radio advised that the second occupant of the vehicle had also died.
We would deliver two further death messages before our shift was over, the last to one of the parents who was a school teacher and that message had to be delivered at his place of work. I recall that as I was expressing my deep regret for his loss, with words spoken for the fourth time in one shift my partner had tears running down her face. My voice was breaking and I was doing all I could to remain composed.
Driving back to the station after delivering the last of the four messages, I felt empty. It was late in the morning, some 12 hours since our shift had started. I was physically and emotionally spent. Many years later I would learn in Thailand from people who had endured the worst losses imaginable that the most difficult days I would face would be dealing with families; and the most rewarding days would be dealing with families.
Joining the NSW Police as a 19-year-old I could never have imagined the opportunities that would come my way. I spent the first four and a half years working in uniform, with the first 12 months at Merrylands Police Station before I requested a transfer to neighbouring Cabramatta. I left Merrylands because it offered what many seek in life: a quiet area with a low crime rate where you could see out your eight-hour shift without too many incidents. An attractive place to work, then, unless you're a 19-year-old straight out of the academy looking for anything but safe and quiet. Cabramatta offered everything that Merrylands didn't. It certainly wasn't quiet, and not altogether safe. It wasn't safe for the rival drug gangs, or necessarily safe for those of us in a blue uniform. I sustained a broken arm and a broken nose that saw me hospitalised and requiring surgery after a car chase and a wrestle with some crooks, but I loved my time at Cabramatta — until I didn't.
The most difficult days I would face would be dealing with families; and the most rewarding days would be dealing with families.
The move into the forensic area in the Crime Scene Unit appealed on many levels. It got me out of uniform and out of the western suburbs where I was no longer living, and it offered an opportunity to specialise in an area that I had found of huge interest. I spent the first 18 months working at the Sydney Police Centre focusing on major crime scenes within the Sydney CBD before an opportunity arose to head bush. I spent the next 10 years living and working in Tamworth in the Crime Scene Section before returning to where my time in the forensic area had started, back at the Sydney Police Centre. When I walked through the doors at the beginning of 2002, however, I was a Detective Inspector in charge of a number of crime scene units and other specialist areas, including the one I was returning to.
I had been promoted to the rank of Inspector at the age of 35, which was not the norm. Several circumstances had worked in my favour. The specialist nature of the job I was doing meant the field of suitable and qualified applicants was very small, keeping competition to a minimum, and a restructure had seen a number of positions created at the same time.
Things couldn't have presented better for me, but that didn't mean I felt I had all the answers. With a healthy dose of imposter syndrome I returned to the office I had started out at and each day turned up with the belief that if I could help others do their job I was doing my job. I thrived in the role — the challenges, the freedom, the opportunity to bring about change, and working with keen younger people was refreshing.
Waking up to the news of the Bali bombings I felt an immediate desire to be part of the response. It was certainly the biggest event that had occurred in my career, and after all I had specialised in this area for over a decade. I was duly offered the opportunity to deploy to Bali as part of the multi-jurisdictional leadership team tasked with identification of the victims, including Australian, Indonesian and other foreign nationals. My time in Bali exposed me to the identification process and allowed me to work as part of an international deployment. More than that, it positioned me for deployment to Thailand in the aftermath of the Boxing Day tsunami two years later.
Boxing Day. The day after. For many it is the day that follows what is a day of celebration and overindulgence, likely a ridiculously early start if you have kids in the house under 10, and time with family. It's also day one of the Melbourne Test and good reason for all cricket lovers to find a comfy lounge chair and settle in.
As the first session in the cricket came to an end, what has been identified as the third biggest earthquake ever recorded struck off the northern tip of Sumatra in Indonesia. The movement of the tectonic plates triggered a tsunami that would travel across the Indian Ocean at a speed of 800 kilometres an hour before it reached the coastlines of Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Thailand and other countries. An estimated 250 000 lives would be lost as a direct result.
I had never been to Thailand, but as I watched the breaking news of the tsunami and the growing death toll I knew I wanted to go. The desire to step into a scene of mass death and destruction might not seem a rational one, or likely to be shared by many. But when you have trained for it your entire career, it is natural to want to be part of the solution.
It was a deep honour to be invited to join the Australian team that travelled to Thailand to assist in the reuniting of families. Across multiple rotations I would form a deep attachment to the country and people of Thailand, one that I could previously never have imagined. Starting Hands Across the Water in 2005 to assist a group of children who had lost their families was not a well-planned decision, nor was it an exercise in personal therapy, as some would later speculate. It simply seemed like the right thing for me to do at the time. With my personal life in the toilet, I was struggling on all fronts to do the little things right, and trying to find my way to be a dad to my kids, but I was failing continually and spectacularly on multiple fronts.
The desire to step into a scene of mass death and destruction might not seem a logical one, or likely to be shared by many. But when you have trained for it your entire career, it is natural to want to be part of the solution.
During my last tour of Thailand I had been asked by the Royal Thai Police to lead a three-month recovery project on Phi Phi Island that would see the excavation of a collapsed sea wall where it was believed unrecovered bodies might be found. The idea of hiding away from all of my problems on Phi Phi Island for three months appealed, but I knew that the decision makers within NSW Police would simply laugh at the idea of allowing me to return to Thailand, having now spent several months there through the course of 2005.
Returning to the Forensic Services Command in late 2005, after almost a year consumed by the tsunami efforts either on or offshore, I felt lost, without direction and purpose. The position I had occupied prior to Thailand had been filled and I was turning up to work each day effectively without a job to do. I had gone from leading the Australian and International teams during my deployments to Thailand to riding sidecar with the office admin clerk. I had lost the office I occupied, and with it any meaningful sense of purpose. My reintegration into ‘normal’ life after my international work hadn't gone well on any level.
The irony was not lost on me that at a time when I was pretty much at rock bottom on all levels of my life I was starting to present on the corporate speaking circuit, sharing lessons on life, leadership and purpose. I did what I have always done: I turned up with a huge case of imposter syndrome and carried on regardless. Imagining that each speaking event I did would be the last. But they kept coming, and I had found a platform to talk about Hands and the work I was doing in Thailand.
I did what I have always done: I turned up with a huge case of imposter syndrome and carried on regardless.
A psychologist I would see many years later when attempting to unwind more mess and hurt I had created told me I had ‘a big ego and low self-esteem’. I rationalised that the speaking I was doing and the standing ovations I received were stroking my ego, but there was this constant lack of confidence and belief that I wasn't good enough and looked for validation.
The speaking was serving many needs I had then. It was feeding my ego and giving me the validation I was seeking, but more importantly, it gave Hands a platform and was a significant source of donations and connections. The year 2006 saw me rise rapidly from the depths into which I had sunk both personally and professionally, and much of that was made possible by my saying ‘yes’ to starting Hands when on every logical level the timing didn't make sense.
That year I was invited to apply for a secondment to the National Institute of Forensic Science (NIFS) to lead a research project for Interpol in France linked to terrorism with a focus on chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear (CBRN) threats and trends. Working out of NSW Police, I was to split my time between the Melbourne office of NIFS and Interpol in Lyon, France. It was purely a research role with no operational activities, and with hindsight the timing couldn't have been better. I worked closely with Dr Tony Raymond, one of the most dedicated scientists I have ever met, and this role gave me freedom and a sense of purpose.
The role with NIFS also allowed me to take up the increasing number of speaking opportunities that were arising. Tony didn't mind when I did my research work and had no attachment to an eight-hour workday. He could see the progress of the research, the hours I was investing and the balancing of growing demands, and he supported me on all levels. Where needed I was taking annual leave to pursue speaking jobs and worked late into each night on the growth of Hands. I was handwriting receipts to all donors and physically posting them out. Clearly that couldn't be sustained.
The agreement with NSW Police was for a 12-month secondment, but towards the end of the year Tony lobbied for an additional year, as I had by then been invited to spend time working with and advising the UN Office on Drugs and Crime in South-East Asia. The additional secondment was approved and I continued to grow further and further away from the role I had left in NSW Police. From the time I left Australia for Thailand in January of 2005, I never returned to the job I had occupied. For the next four years I spent more time working with international agencies than at home.
I have seen one consistently recurring phenomenon: lots of people from the government and corporate sectors, NGOs and charities sweep in to help in the aftermath of the crisis, but too many of them leave too soon.
During my years with NIFS, working with Interpol and the UN, Hands continued to grow, as did my speaking opportunities, which hit an all-time high in 2008 when I delivered more than 100 keynotes while still working full-time. All this left little meaningful time for other obligations, sadly including my kids. But the more I spoke at conferences, the more money I was raising for the kids in Thailand, which allowed us to provide assistance on a larger scale. We opened more community centres, which meant we needed more recurrent funding and I needed to spend more time working on Hands.
In the international work I have done in the aftermath of crises and disasters in Indonesia, Thailand, Saudi Arabia and Japan, I have seen one consistently recurring phenomenon: lots of people from the government and corporate sectors, NGOs and charities swoop in to help in the aftermath of the crisis, but too many of them leave too soon.
On the ground in Thailand in 2005, when I was still walking around the villages and communities in my police uniform, long before starting Hands, I visited buildings erected by global charities without consultation with the local community. Now those who had built them had moved on, these buildings were neither needed nor wanted.
Hands Across the Water was late to the party, we didn't open our first home until 2006. It was built for the 32 kids I had met in the tent at the local temple the previous year. Within 12 months of opening that first home the numbers had doubled. We had girls sleeping three to a bed; the boys were sleeping on the floor and the question we asked ourselves was where were they coming from? It was now a couple of years on from the tsunami, but each time I arrived there seemed to be more kids without families or options. We opened our second home in January 2009, but each new building brought more kids and increased costs.
I started Hands with the intention of building and sustaining a home for those kids I had met at the temple. Naively I believed that if we built them a home their problems would be solved. Ten years after the tsunami Hands had grown to support seven different communities and homes across Thailand. Our original home at Baan Tharn Namchai had grown from a single home in 2006 to what is now a village. There was now a building for the boys, one for the girls and one built specifically for the babies and younger children, as required by the Thai Government. The growth in the number of kids at Baan Tharn Namchai could be put down to a number of factors.
In the years that followed the tsunami a number of homes like ours were opened to meet a need not unlike the one we were serving. There were both private initiatives through the not-for-profit (NFP) sector and government-funded buildings. As time passed, interest in the needs of the community receded — and so too did the funding. Over the years I visited a number of private homes, similar in size to the first one we had built, that cared for dozens of kids and sought our assistance, whether in the form of a partnership or funding, or in the hope that we could take them over as they were on the verge of financial insolvency. As the situation in these homes became more dire we found ourselves receiving more children who simply had nowhere else to go.
In addition to these homes closing their doors, there were families — usually elderly grandparents — who had taken in the grandchildren after the loss of their parents but found themselves unable to continue caring for them. Either through ill health, physical disability or lack of financial means, they simply were unable to provide the ongoing care their kids needed. As the reputation of our home at Baan Tharn Namchai grew within the community, it would become the first place for the local hospital, police and government officials to turn to when they found themselves with a child, sometimes a newborn, without a family. Khun Rotjana found it easier to say yes to giving kids a home than to turn them away.
By 2010 we had committed heavily to Baan Home Hug. We would invest significantly in both building upgrades and infrastructure in addition to the recurrent running costs. In 2011 we opened the community centre that functioned as a tsunami refuge centre, a kindergarten for the local community and a general meeting place for the people of Baan Nam Khem, an area devastated by the tsunami.
In 2011 our responsibilities increased on the back of another tsunami, this one occurring in Japan. While we didn't put money directly into Japan, we did fund two well-established homes at Kanchanaburi and Chumphon that were previously funded in part by Japanese donations. After the 2011 tsunami the money that had been relied on from Japan no longer came and instead remained within the country. An immediate hole existed in the funding of these two homes in Thailand, and Hands committed to supporting those homes in the short-term until the funding returned.
Before the end of 2015 we had opened another home, Pama House, in the east of the country at Chanthaburi. We hadn't set out to take on this home or invest in this part of the country; we had more than enough going on, but an Australian doctor had built a home in this region for kids without parents in memory of his parents, whom he had lost at a young age. The home was never completed, and despite his best intentions he was never able to operate the home as intended. To preserve the building and the legacy, we invested in the building and opened it thereafter, providing a safe home for a further 25 kids in need. The restoration and opening of the home at Chanthaburi were made possible by the generosity of Jellis Craig, a Victorian-based real estate company who committed the funds to restore the building and allow for the opening.
In what seemed like a short time I had gone from committing to contributing to the building of one home to having properties across seven different locations with some 350 kids and 70 staff and with a recurrent cost structure of some $1.7 million. Not for the first time I would ask myself how did we get here?
Up until the COVID-19 pandemic really impacted us in 2021 we had operated the charity on a structure that saw 100 per cent of donations flow directly to the kids and communities we