‘Trauma’ Can Not Excuse This

Let Kids Be Kids and Penny Marie
Mum, Woman, Female. NZ based independent investigative reporter, researcher, writer, coach, truth seeker. Founder of Let Kids Be Kids NZ.

In late 2025, Auckland primary school teacher Tamlyn May pleaded guilty to grooming and sexually abusing an 11‑year‑old boy in her care. She sent him nude photos, used school‑linked channels and social media to build a secret “relationship”, kissed him, and even spent a night in his bed. She did this while presenting herself to his parents as a supportive senior teacher trying to help their struggling son.

For this, she received home detention, was assessed as “low risk” of reoffending, and was not placed on the Child Sex Offender Register. The courts later allowed her to be named, but the school and family remain protected.

This case raises hard questions for parents: not just about one offender, but about a wider cultural drift towards centring adult “victimhood” and “trauma” even when the adult is the one who has exploited a child. When did “I’m hurt too” become a way of softening the response to people who hurt children?

We unpack three themes from a parent’s perspective:

1. The use of victim narratives by offenders
2. The system’s lean towards leniency and “low risk” labels
3. Practical ways parents can stay alert to grooming.

1. When adults weaponise “victim” narratives

At sentencing, May’s lawyer leaned heavily on her own trauma story. He told the court she had suffered violence and trauma in South Africa, migrated to New Zealand as a teenager because of that, and later worked with children who reminded her of herself. This history was used to argue she “regressed” psychologically and “trauma‑bonded” with the boy – as if, in her mind, she was a fellow 11‑year‑old rather than an adult teacher abusing her authority.

There are two disturbing things here.

1. It shifts the emotional centre of the story away from the child.
   Instead of the boy – who was groomed, sexualised and betrayed by a trusted adult – the courtroom narrative becomes about May’s pain, May’s trauma, May’s struggle. Her feelings are invited into the spotlight, while the child’s experience is compressed into a victim‑impact statement and a line in the judge’s remarks.
2. It blurs the moral line between victim and perpetrator.
   Many adults who abuse children experienced abuse themselves. That is tragic and relevant for treatment. But it does not make their choices towards a child any less abusive or dangerous. Calling this “trauma‑bonding” in court suggests a kind of mutuality – when in reality, this was not two traumatised peers clinging to each other. It was a grown woman, in a position of trust, using secrecy, flattery and adult romantic scripts on a boy in primary school.

The risk for parents and for society is that this sort of narrative normalises a dangerous idea: that if an adult can cast themselves as a victim, their responsibility for harming a child can be softened, reframed or “understood away”.

We should resist that. Adults can be both: people with real trauma and people who choose to cross lines with children. Their trauma can never be a justification for targeting someone else’s child.

2. “Low risk” and soft landings when the target is children

May was assessed as “low risk of reoffending”. On that basis and others, the judge gave her home detention and declined to place her on the Child Sex Offender Register.

From a parent’s viewpoint, several things about this are deeply unsettling:

• “Low risk” does not mean “no risk”. It is a technical label from risk tools and psychologist reports. It often reflects factors like no prior convictions and a stable lifestyle. But even the “lowest risk” group of sex offenders still has a measurable reoffending rate over time. When children are the possible victims, any non‑zero risk is serious.
• Her role was structurally high‑risk. May wasn’t a stranger in a park. She was a senior primary teacher with institutional trust, access to children’s time, and the ability to shape parents’ perceptions. She used school‑linked platforms and her perceived expertise with “troubled kids” as part of the grooming. That combination of trust, access and secrecy is exactly what makes institutional abuse so dangerous.
• The system often weighs adult hardship heavily. In her suppression appeals, arguments were made about the impact of publication on her and her family. Yet the boy’s future – his schooling, relationships, sense of safety – will bear the weight of what she did for years. When the adult’s reputation is treated as a precious asset to shield, and the child’s future risk is treated as a manageable statistic, the priorities are inverted.

As parents, we’re entitled to ask:

• Should any adult who has targeted a child in a position of trust ever be described as “low risk” in a way that weakens community protection?
• Should there be a much stronger presumption that such offenders are monitored, registered, and permanently kept away from educational or child‑focused roles, regardless of how “low risk” their reports say they are?

It’s not “anti‑rehabilitation” to say: if you have crossed this line with a child, you’ve forfeited any right to work around children again, and the community’s right to know and to be protected comes first.

What grooming looked like in this case

Parents can learn a lot from how May offended.

The pattern reported includes:

• Digital secrecy: Use of Snapchat and disappearing messages, plus Google Docs and social media DMs to communicate outside normal school channels.
• Flattery and specialness: Telling the boy he was special, that they were “a couple”, that she would say yes if he asked her out, and that her nudes were “just for him”.
• Isolation from parents and school: Playing the role of “saviour teacher” with his parents – emphasising how troubled he was, encouraging them to blame the school, and nudging them towards home‑schooling options where she would have more control over his time.
• Boundary‑crossing framed as care: Walks, “wrestling” that turned into kissing, staying overnight and sleeping in his bed, all in the context of “helping” and “supporting” him.

For a stressed family, a teacher who says ‘I really understand your child, the school is failing him, let me help more closely’ can feel like a lifeline. That is exactly why grooming often looks like intense helpfulness at first.

3. Practical suggestions for parents

You can’t control who your child’s teachers or coaches are. But you can build habits that make it harder for grooming to go unnoticed.

A. Stay closely connected to your child

• Make feelings routine, not exceptional. Regularly ask: “How did you feel at school today?” and “Who helped you when things were hard?” rather than only “What did you do?”
• Normalise talking about uncomfortable things. Make it clear they can tell you about anything that felt “weird”, “yucky” or “too secret”, even if it involves an adult they normally trust.
• Watch for changes, not single moments. Grooming often shows up as a cluster over time: withdrawal, sudden anxiety, mood swings, sleep problems, school refusal, unexplained gifts, or a new, intense bond with one adult.

B. Treat secrecy around adults and devices as a red flag

• No private digital relationships with adults. Your child should not have secret chats with teachers, coaches or other adults on Snapchat, Instagram, Discord or similar platforms. Any adult who insists on secrecy is crossing a line.
• Check devices and accounts, with transparency. Let your child know that part of keeping them safe is that you will occasionally look at their apps or friend lists together. Present it as care, not suspicion.
• Be wary of adults who bypass normal channels. If a teacher wants to communicate about your child’s wellbeing, that should go through official school email or meetings, not personal DMs or disappearing messages.

C. Be cautious of “rescuer” adults around a vulnerable child

Children with behavioural, learning or mental‑health challenges are more vulnerable to grooming, because they often crave understanding and special attention.

• Value specialists, but keep boundaries. It’s healthy to have teachers or counsellors who “get” your child – but meetings, communication and interventions should remain transparent to you and within institutional norms.
• Notice if an adult undermines your other supports. If someone in a professional role keeps telling you that other teachers, the school, or even your own instincts are wrong – and that they alone can fix your child – take a step back and examine that dynamic critically.

D. Trust your unease. Trust your intuition

In many cases like this, parents look back and remember a moment when something ‘didn’t feel right’ – an over‑familiar hug, a secretive tone, an adult who seemed ‘a bit too close’.

You don’t need proof to:

• Ask more questions.
• Request a meeting with the school or service head.
• Insist that one‑on‑one time with your child happens only in observable, accountable settings.
• Say no to new ‘special arrangements’ that isolate your child with an adult, especially off‑site or in private homes.

Your role is not to prove a case beyond reasonable doubt. Your role is to protect your child. If your gut tells you something is off, you are allowed to act on that.

Re‑centring children in how we talk about these cases

There is a place for understanding adult trauma and for offering treatment. But when we talk about adults who have already crossed the line into grooming and abusing a child, especially from positions of trust, our moral and practical centre of gravity must stay on:

• The child who was harmed,
• The children that person might encounter in future, and
• The institutions that failed to prevent or detect the abuse.

‘I’m a victim too’ might be part of a therapeutic conversation for the offender. It should never function as a public shield that softens the consequences of harming a child or weakens the protections placed around other children.

For Let Kids Be Kids, the message to parents is:

1. Keep your focus on your child’s signals.
2. Treat secrecy and special treatment from adults with caution.
3. Expect institutions to prioritise child safety over adult reputational comfort.
4. And be unashamedly sceptical when you hear the words “low risk” and “trauma‑bonding” used to describe someone who has already used trust and authority to exploit a child.

Our children’s right to safety must come before any adult’s demand for sympathy.

Sources: NZ Herald, Radio NZ, Newstalk ZB, Otago Daily Times.

This article was originally published by Let Kids Be Kids.