Emily Writes is the host of The Courage Club, a podcast for brave chats about kids, disability and sexual safety. If it sounds daunting, it’s not – well, not really.

What’s this then?

The Courage Club is a podcast hosted by me, Emily Writes, where we discuss our kids, disability and sexual safety. It’s made in partnership with HELP Auckland and Rape Prevention Education. It’s not a topic that will get us on the top 10 most-streamed but if it helps to empower just one parent, and helps prevent just one instance of sexual harm against a child, it’s totally worth it.

Who is it for?

If you’re a parent of Deaf, disabled, medically fragile or neurodivergent children, this podcast is especially for you. But really, anybody who is parenting or caring for children will get something from Courage Club.

This sounds full on. I don’t think I wanna listen to such a grim podcast when I could just listen to that one about the couple who had a wedding where someone shit on the dance floor.

No parent wants to think about any harm coming to their child. We’re hardwired to want to shut down thoughts about anyone hurting our babies. Sexual harm as a topic is a particularly terrifying one to confront and personally, I felt really afraid to face it.

But I also know the stats around sexual harm in the disabled community. In Aotearoa, our disabled and neurodivergent tamariki are at increased risk of sexual harm. We wanted to try to create a space where we could begin the conversation.

I’m a survivor, I’m neurodivergent, and I have a neurodivergent child and a medically fragile child. So it was incredibly daunting to even think about starting this conversation. Did I want to reexamine how I survived? No. Did I want to think about what I, along with the support of my community and fellow parents, could do to make sure no other tamariki suffer sexual harm? Well yes. Absolutely.

So, The Courage Club is somewhere that we, as parents, can courageously talk about the hard stuff: keeping our medically fragile, disabled and neurodivergent children safe when it comes to preventing child sexual abuse. But I promise you that you will feel more empowered after listening to it. After our convos, I did.

What should I expect?

For the first four episodes, I sit down with three other parents of disabled children, and we chat about our own experiences navigating this stuff and some things we’ve learnt along the way. We cover lots of topics, from how to manage naming the awkward stuff, helping tamariki understand their body and their needs, navigating carers and visitors in and out of the home, and building the foundations for our kids’ positive sexual wellbeing and identity.

In the fifth episode, I chat to two knowledgeable advisors in this space who offer some helpful takeaways to add to the parents’ insights.

During recording, there were tears but also laughter. There was joy, jokes, heavy stuff, big truths and epiphanies. You’ll hear us trying to navigate this in our own ways, because every guest is in the same place you are. I mean I’m in the same place you are. But we all decided that no matter how hard it is, we’re doing it. We’re all taking that first step – together.

Where can I listen?

You can listen to The Courage Club on Spotify, Apple or YouTube. You can also find more resources and info at The Courage Club.

I hope you’ll join us and share the podcast with your friends and family. My greatest hope is that we all feel a little braver. We are all part of a club – The Courage Club – and I know that we can make a difference.

We understand that more often than we like, many people have an experience of trauma. If you need some free and confidential support, the team at HELP Auckland are available 24/7, 365 days a year. You can contact them on 0800 623 1700.

New Zealand recently loosened restrictions around CBD, meaning it could be sold in chemists here soon. On a recent trip to Japan, Thomas Giblin got a glimpse of how our weird regulatory limbo on cannabis could play out.

Aotearoa’s regulatory regime for medical cannabis has taken its next step. CBD products will no longer be prescription only, as the chemical has been reclassified as a restricted medicine. Soon, CBD-infused products may appear at your local Chemist Warehouse, but Chris Luxon has just been voted in as prime minister, and the National Party leader has stated he won’t consider pardoning or decriminalising the possession or use of cannabis if elected. 

So, I might be able to walk into a chemist and buy rainbow-coloured CBD gummies, but if I’m caught possessing cannabis, even a recreational amount, it’s a crime? I thought navigating the murky maze of Aotearoa’s cannabis-related drug laws was difficult, but then I arrived in the neon-drenched streets of Japan.

Being chronically online meant I’d seen plenty of TikToks warning me to stay away from drugs while in Japan. The country’s drug laws are incredibly punitive: you can be jailed for up to seven years for possessing cannabis. Recently, a Police Ten 7-type news segment appeared on Japanese national television, showing a dozen cops surrounding two young men as sirens flicker. You’d think they’ve committed an unspeakable crime, but just one bud of cannabis and a single joint was the cause of all the commotion.

With this prior knowledge, I knew if I was to enjoy a wild night out in Shinjuku and not end up in trouble with the law I should stick to Strong Zeros (the 9% canned chūhai have a cult following for a reason). But when I landed at Haneda Airport, fresh off a hellish 13-hour flight without adequate legroom, I didn’t expect to see a CBD shop and cafe. Was this the lack of sleep? No, my eyes weren’t deceiving me: a shop was selling Earl Grey CBD cookies as jetliners passed overhead. I’d expected to go weeks without seeing the plant, but within one hour of arriving in Japan, I was confronted with an array of CBD-infused baked goods.

Later that day, as I walked around the streets of Tokyo, CBD shops and cafes were a dime a dozen. Storefronts were lit up by dazzling green lights, drawing in curious tourists like myself. I was shocked you could walk in off the street and purchase any of the various CBD products they had for sale. In exchange for a glowing Google review, some shops would let you have a few hits of their CBD vape pens. Despite Japan’s zero-tolerance policy on cannabis and the social stigma attached to it, these sleek stores aren’t only popular with gaijin. Salarymen, all dressed in dark business suits with scuffed dress shoes, also made purchases. They often opted for the more discreet items.

In Osaka, the burgeoning cannabis scene was even more visible, particularly in certain neighbourhoods. Like K Road, America-mura – a hotspot for youth culture – had a concentrated number of shops selling cannabis-related paraphernalia. If you needed a bong, rolling paper, or a hoodie with Snoop Dogg smoking a fat one, you just had to make the trip from your hotel. Hilariously, one CBD store across from a police station even had a sign saying “¥2000 to get stoned.”

Akin to the BZP craze of the 2000s, Japan’s various CBD shops and cafes exist because of a legal loophole. Products made from cannabis are illegal, but synthetic cannabinoids manufactured to mimic THC, the psychoactive element in cannabis, are legal. I soon began to draw similarities between Aotearoa’s and Japan’s drug culture. Of course, there are differences, but conservative lawmakers in both countries have shifted drug policy away from evidence-based reform. Despite the changing public attitude towards weed, many insist on clinging to outdated ideas about drug use. 

Like BZP and synthetic cannabis in Aotearoa, the Japanese authorities will eventually catch up. Right now, it is like a game of Whac-A-Mole, as when they ban one synthetic THC cannabinoid, another one pops right back up alongside several more stores. 

What can we learn? As CBD products will no longer be prescription-only in Aotearoa soon, drug education becomes paramount. When using these products, our whānau and friends must be given the resources to make informed decisions. Whilst clean and neatly lit, the CBD shops and cafes in Japan seemingly pop up with little oversight. They can make untested claims to make a few quick dollars.

Is it worth using these products if you don’t know what’s in them? One American tourist seemed to think so as he lurched around a kebab shop, boisterously showing off the CBD vape pen he’d just bought. Before long, he was passed out, having to be Ubered home by his partner. 

This “green rush” will soon hit Aotearoa. So, as I walk into a pharmacy to try using a CBD product for my anxiety, I want to know that it’s not just the money the producer cares about. I want to make an informed decision, unlike that stoned tourist who ruined my enjoyment of possibly the best falafel I’ve ever had.