Raymond Wong: Building Bridges, Not Walls
When I sat down with Raymond Wong, I was reminded that leadership does not always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it looks like a quiet man who has spent decades translating between worlds. Raymond was New Zealand’s first full-time Asian Ethnic Liaison Officer, a role he began long before “diversity and inclusion” became common phrases in policy documents. His story is one of humility, empathy, and a lifelong commitment to helping communities feel safe and understood.
Raymond’s journey began when he arrived from East Malaysia as a teenager, following his uncle’s encouragement to study in Aotearoa. It was a time before supermarkets opened on weekends and when the word “internet” still meant a dial-up connection. He learned independence the hard way—by cooking his own meals, washing his clothes, and adjusting to English that sounded nothing like what he had learned in school. What stands out in his memory is not hardship, but adaptation. He talks about those early months as lessons in humility, learning to listen first before speaking, and to ask rather than assume.
That same approach became the foundation of his work in the New Zealand Police. When he joined in the early 2000s, few could imagine the value of having a cultural bridge within law enforcement. He was tasked with building relationships between police and migrant communities—especially Asian families who, shaped by their experiences back home, often saw the police only as enforcers, not protectors. Raymond’s challenge was to change that perception, one conversation at a time.
He recalls being met with suspicion at first. Many community members wondered why a police officer wanted to talk to them if they hadn’t done anything wrong. But Raymond persisted. He attended community meetings, listened to fears, and learned to translate not only language but trust. Over time, he became a familiar face—someone people would approach not out of fear but out of confidence that they would be heard.
His empathy runs deep. In one of the most moving parts of our conversation, Raymond described a kidnapping case involving a young girl. She was about the same age as his own daughter. Each night, after long hours with the victim’s parents, he would go home, look at his child, and quietly cry in another room. The line between professional duty and human feeling had blurred, and he carried that pain with grace. “You need to be both physically and psychologically resilient,” he said. “But above all, you must never lose empathy.”
Raymond often downplays his achievements, but his work changed how New Zealand Police engage with ethnic communities. He helped design systems of outreach, cultural education, and translation support that still shape community policing today. He also mentored younger officers, encouraging them to listen first and to treat humility as a strength.
What makes Raymond’s story extraordinary is how ordinary he tries to make it sound. He talks about teamwork, gratitude to his colleagues, and the unwavering support of his wife, who raised their children while he worked unpredictable hours. He never forgets that leadership begins at home. “Without my family’s support,” he said, “everything else would fall apart.”
Today, even after leaving the police, Raymond remains deeply connected to the communities he once served. His philosophy is simple: be humble, be willing to listen, and learn from those who walked before you. “People don’t lay the foundation for no reason,” he says. “Our job is to build upon it.”
Raymond’s story is not only about law enforcement—it is about what it means to serve. He reminds us that trust is built quietly, empathy is learned through presence, and leadership is not a title but a practice of care. In a world quick to shout its achievements, his calm integrity speaks louder than any slogan ever could.
For me, Raymond’s story captures the soul of what Authenticity Studio stands for. His leadership is not measured by recognition or rank but by his willingness to walk alongside others. Listening to him reminded me that true connection happens when we stop trying to prove ourselves and start showing up with sincerity. Raymond’s quiet strength, humility, and dedication to bridging cultures reflect the kind of leadership our world needs more of—leadership that serves without seeking applause. In his way, he has taught me that authenticity is not found in perfection, but in presence, empathy, and the courage to keep doing what is right even when no one is watching.
