Grassroots Leadership: What Real Community Change Looks Like | Eva Chen MNZM

Some of the most important work happening in our communities never makes the headlines.

It happens when someone notices that a mother is struggling and asks what she needs. It happens when a family cannot afford nappies and someone decides to make a phone call rather than simply refer them somewhere else. It happens when volunteers carry mattresses through the rain because displaced families need somewhere culturally safe to sleep.

This is the kind of leadership that has defined Eva Chen MNZM and the work of Wellbeing Charitable Trust.

In our conversation on the Authentic Leadership Podcast, what struck me was not simply how much Eva has accomplished, but how organically the work has grown.

There was never a grand plan to build an organisation that would solve every problem. It began with something much simpler: listening.

Starting With What Was in Front of Her

When Eva was raising two young children, she began hearing the same concerns from other Chinese migrant parents: sleepless nights, postnatal depression, mental health stress, difficult family relationships and anxiety about returning to work.

Twenty years ago, culturally and linguistically appropriate parenting information was much harder to find. Eva saw the gap and began working with others to create parenting workshops in Mandarin.

There was urgency in this work. A mother struggling today could not wait five years for an organisation's strategic vision to become reality. Her baby would have grown. Her circumstances would have changed.

So Eva's approach became simple: deal with what is happening on the ground, one step at a time.

That small beginning grew rapidly. A community that started with six families eventually reached hundreds, with programmes extending across different parts of Auckland.

But the numbers are only part of the story.

When One Person Changes, a Family Can Change

One of Eva's stories captures the deeper impact of this work.

A grandfather arrived at a parenting workshop openly sceptical. He told Eva that the parenting ideas being taught were very different from how he had been raised and that he had come to prove them wrong.

Then something changed.

After completing the programme, his young grandson accidentally broke something. The grandfather felt the familiar anger rising. But instead of immediately yelling or punishing him, he paused.

He told his grandson that he knew it had been an accident, explained that he was unhappy about what had happened, and asked the child to help clean it up.

The little boy, who had been expecting punishment, was visibly relieved.

It sounds like a small moment.

But it represented something much bigger.

A grandfather changed the way he responded to his grandson. His daughter-in-law became more confident in her own parenting. And eventually, that grandfather became involved in advocating against family harm within the Chinese community.

This is how community change often happens—not through one enormous intervention, but through knowledge, relationships and people choosing to do something differently.

Advocacy Has to Travel in Both Directions

Eva's work also reveals something important about culturally responsive advocacy.

It cannot simply be about translating information.

When she was asked to review family violence resources, Eva realised the material assumed that people already understood what "family violence" meant.

But many of the women she encountered did not necessarily recognise financial control, psychological abuse, threats involving immigration status, or being prevented from leaving the house as forms of family violence.

So advocacy had to work in two directions.

Communities needed accessible information that made sense within their cultural context. At the same time, institutions needed to understand that translating an existing booklet into another language did not necessarily make the service culturally accessible.

That bridge between communities and systems has become a recurring part of Eva's work.

From Twenty Food Parcels to Two Hundred

During COVID-19, that trusted relationship with the community became especially important.

Eva received a message from a father who was embarrassed to admit that he could no longer afford nappies for his baby.

She did not know immediately what support was available, so she started asking.

That first response became twenty food parcels. Within weeks, the need had grown to around 200 parcels per week, distributed across Auckland.

But one detail says more about the community than the numbers ever could.

The same father who originally asked for nappies later began delivering food parcels to other families in his area.

When Eva offered petrol money, he declined.

He had received enough, he told her. Now it was his turn to give back.

That is community empowerment in its simplest form.

The person receiving help today can become the person helping someone else tomorrow.

Dignity Is Also a Basic Need

The same philosophy became visible again during the Auckland Anniversary floods.

Emergency accommodation was available, but Eva and other community leaders recognised that having somewhere to sleep did not automatically mean people felt safe.

For some cultures, unrelated men and women sleeping together in a large shared space was inappropriate. Privacy, cultural values and dignity mattered too.

After struggling to have those needs understood, community connections helped secure a school hall. Volunteers arrived in the rain carrying mattresses, clothing and bedding. People worked late into the night preparing the space and welcoming displaced families.

The lesson is important.

Emergency response is not only about asking, "Do people have shelter?"

It is also about asking, "Can people enter that shelter without having to leave part of who they are at the door?"

Dignity is not an optional extra. It is part of wellbeing.

The Wealth of Community Trust

One of Eva's most powerful observations during our conversation was that Wellbeing Charitable Trust did not always have much money.

Sometimes even finding enough money to hire a venue was difficult.

But they possessed something else: community trust.

People were willing to tell them what was happening inside their families. Sometimes a conversation would begin with, "Something happened to my friend," before eventually becoming, "Actually, it happened to me."

That trust cannot be purchased through a funding contract.

It is built slowly through being present, listening, responding and staying connected.

It also explains why small grassroots organisations matter.

Someone unfamiliar with New Zealand may not know which government department or large social service organisation to approach. They may not understand the system at all.

But they know Eva.

They know Sister Fatima.

They know a community leader, neighbour, parent or volunteer whom they trust.

And sometimes that relationship is the doorway through which all other forms of support become possible.

Building the Family We Need

Towards the end of our conversation, Eva said something that captures the essence of her work.

For many migrant and refugee families, the extended family they once relied upon is no longer physically around them after migration.

So, in a new country, people have to build another kind of family.

They build it through relationships.

Through neighbours.

Through community groups.

Through the father who once needed nappies and later delivered food.

Through the grandfather who came to challenge a parenting programme and became an advocate himself.

Through volunteers carrying mattresses in the rain.

And through hundreds of people whose names may never appear in an annual report.

Perhaps this is the deepest lesson from Eva's journey.

Community leadership is not about becoming the person who does everything.

It is about creating the conditions in which people can find one another, contribute what they have, and discover that they are capable of helping, too.

Eva is also very clear that this work does not belong to her alone. Behind every story are hundreds and thousands of people working quietly at the grassroots level, often without recognition.

Maybe that is what real community building looks like.

Not one extraordinary person saving everyone else.

But ordinary people creating something extraordinary together.

That is the quiet power of community.

Full Podcast: Grassroots Leadership: What Real Community Change Looks Like | Eva Chen MNZM