By Tracy Neal, Open Justice reporter of 
Adeena Paaske. Photo: NZ Herald / supplied
Update: This story was updated on 8 April to say the Duntroon is a village on a state highway where hoards of cycle tourists pass on the Alps 2 Ocean trail.
Adeena Paaske's "lightbulb" moment was the morning armed police burst into her Oamaru house, hand-cuffed her son, and then arrested her.
"They ripped the house to shreds. I was a hoarder so they had to go through a lot of stuff - it took them a few hours.
"They tipped out rubbish bins - they went through everything."
Now, the convicted cannabis dealer has bid farewell to a life she admits she naively fell into to try and rescue her son. She has set up a small business selling pre-loved goods and named it Second Chances, in honour of the second chance she's been given, with the licence she gained on appeal to be able to set up as a second-hand goods dealer.
"It was the name I came up with right from the get-go. It's me - I very much believe in second chances," Paaske told NZME from her home in the small South Island township of Duntroon, where she moved for a fresh start.
Last month, the Licensing Authority of Secondhand Dealers and Pawnbrokers awarded her the licence, despite strong opposition from the police because of her conviction, and the authority having turned her down when she first applied last year.
Paaske says she was at first devastated but picked herself up and fought the decision.
"I sat there and after a day of crying I said, 'No, I'm going to fight this'.
"It's something I really want to do and I don't believe I should be told 'no'."
Paaske was granted a hearing, after writing to the authority chair and outlining her case, and how she wanted to be given another chance.
"I understand the police view, but as I said to the judge the only way I could prove I could do right by the decision was to be given a chance."
Paaske convinced authority chair Trish McConnell on appeal that she was committed to her dream of becoming self-reliant in a legitimate business, dealing in pre-loved and recycled goods for which she has developed a deep interest.
"I realised I loved hearing the stories about items passed down and how they came to be in someone's possession.
"I was like, 'Wow, I love that stuff - I want to do that stuff'."
McConnell said in her decision that Paaske now lived a quiet life and was striving to be a better role model for her grandchildren.
Paaske, 47, said it's been a difficult milestone to reach.
In 2018 she was convicted and sentenced to six months of community detention on charges of possession of cannabis for supply and permitting her premises at the time to be used for the growing or sale of drugs.
She was one of 2102 people around the country convicted of cannabis and related offences that year, according to Ministry of Justice data.
Media reported at the time that the charges arose from her "misguided attempt" to wean her son off methamphetamine by supplying him with cannabis.
'This is real'
On a morning in March 2018, the police, clad in vests and carrying guns, burst into the home she shared with one of her sons, shouting they were searching, Paaske said.
"We were all in bed asleep when they burst in yelling: 'Search warrant, search warrant.'
"I thought it was one of my son's friends playing a joke. I rolled over and was confronted with a police officer standing there with his gun.
"I thought, 'S**t, well yeah, this is real.'"
The police took her son away in cuffs and then politely asked her: "Are we going to find anything Adeena?"
She handed over the cannabis she had, plus equipment and cash.
The judge viewed the discovery as having a commercial element to it and wondered why Paaske had needed it if she aimed to help her son kick his meth habit.
Paaske told NZME that up to that point, she had tried almost everything to help her son, who has been "in and out of prison" for drugs-based offending.
"I watched my son go from addiction to addiction to overdosing to having seizures and not knowing whether or not he'd live."
Paaske said in her naivety she believed her son when he said if he could smoke pot, he might stop using harder drugs.
She couldn't afford to buy it, so decided to deal it.
"It was very naïve, I get that, but it was devastating watching my child go through what he did.
"I honestly thought that maybe this would work."
Paaske said it was frightening to think about getting caught.
"I didn't want a criminal record - I just wanted a way out for my son and we'd done everything - the counselling, the youth drug rehabilitation programmes and nothing worked.
"At that stage, I was just too 'in it'."
Paaske said she is now forging her own path while standing by her son who still struggles.
"We talk daily, but I realise I can't do much more and it's enormously painful because he's worth so much more than the path he's on but he has to figure that out for himself."
Rebuilding
The path to Duntroon, which sits at a meeting point between South Canterbury and North Otago, began in Auckland where Paaske was raised, married and had two sons before the young family moved to Blenheim to be closer to her mother.
"We were looking for farm jobs without much luck so I said, 'Right, whoever gets a job first, that's where we are moving', and it happened to be Oamaru."
Paaske and her husband at the time worked on a farm and then moved to the West Coast when offered work there.
The marriage ended, and Paaske returned to Oamaru.
She said the move to Duntroon, made possible with help from a small inheritance from her father, has not been easy, as the legacy of her offending and the subsequent media coverage still trails behind her.
"It was very demoralising. I'd always thought of myself as an upstanding person.
"I pay my bills on time, I don't get speeding tickets, my car is always legal - I did everything right and then I got this big blemish and I felt as if everyone was judging me, like they'd read the news report and were judging me."
Paaske said she became a recluse, at which point depression and anxiety set in.
"It was a snowball effect which I'm still dealing with now."
She has, however, grown to love Duntroon - a village on a state highway where hoards of cycle tourists pass on the Alps 2 Ocean trail.
"I love being here, the house I bought is right in town but we're pretty much the only house. There are just a couple of shops plus Vanished World (fossil and geology centre), the blacksmith, the mechanic and then my house."
Paaske said the property came with everything she needed, which allowed her to think about what to do with the container of goods she had kept. A food cart business she had bought is now parked up after she had difficulty coping with the stress of operating it.
"I got flustered with the demands, but it was a good idea at the time," she said.
The idea for the second-hand store came about fairly quickly, which she is developing with the help of a friend.
"I sat stagnant for the five years since my conviction and this was the first thing that made me feel alive again. I don't think I'll ever make a living from it but this is me - this is what I want to do."
Paaske said she's grateful to the authority, especially after she read the police opposition.
McConnell said in her decision the police were right to raise their concerns, but Paaske now lived a quiet life and was striving to be a better role model for her grandchildren.
She said the question for the authority was whether the applicant was a fit and proper person to hold a licence.
McConnell noted that Paaske's 2018 convictions were her first and only and that she had since moved away from bad influences.
Based on the evidence, McConnell approved the licence, but with a warning that she had to comply with its terms.
"I didn't think the decision would go the way it did but I was really stoked when it came out.
"She could see what I wanted to do and I was over the moon."
Paaske aims to have Second Chances up and running in temporary premises on her property by the middle of the year, before developing a more permanent base.
- This article was originally published by The New Zealand Herald.
