Crosslight - Edition April 2020

Image:
Michael Lelliott
can prove particularly challenging is
the traditional proudly ultra-macho
chauvinistic ethos that gives women
little, or even no, status, reducing them
to sexual playthings or property.
Peter says that the attitudes of bikers
towards women can be more nuanced
than they appear.
“The role my wife, Ruth, has played
has been really important in the journey
of Squad for me,” he says.
“We do weddings and funerals
together in Squad. We work together as
a team. If Ruth doesn’t go to a club with
me I always get asked where she is.”
God’s Squad does not allow female
members, they are called companions,
although women used to be able to wear
full colours.
Peter was apologetic about this and
says one reason that decision was made
was to be consistent internationally, with
God’s Squad now operating in a number
of countries.
It might be surprising that Peter says
his most shocking experiences and
stories do not come from being a part
of God’s Squad but from his work as
a chaplain for the Melbourne Welsh
Church, which entails visits to the
Malmsbury Youth Detention Centre, and
from his school chaplaincy work.
“Some of the back stories of the boys
in youth detention bothers me, some of
the stuff around domestic violence and
being involved in street gangs often run
by adults,” he says.
“
Some of the clubs,
when they have their
club meetings they call
that church. Their church
family might be the only
family they have.
”
Peter Whitefield
Not surprisingly, Peter has often been
told that he doesn’t look like a chaplain,
and indeed once had trouble convincing
the police in New Zealand, where he was
on his way to attend an outlaw bike club
celebration.
“The police had the street shut off and
I got pulled over and questioned for an
hour and a half,” he says.
“They asked about bikie gangs in NZ
and where are you going and what are
you doing.
“When they asked what I did for
a living, I said ‘I’m actually a school
chaplain’ and they didn’t know where to
go with that.
“They went ‘a chaplain like we have
chaplains’ and I go ‘yeah I work in
schools’. If you want to know about God’s
Squad do a Google search, we’ve got
nothing to hide. They let me go. The local
police later apologised.”
Peter says that despite being sheep,
or you might say Christian lambs, in
wolves’ clothing, God’s Squad’s outlaw
look generally doesn’t put people off,
although some of his migrant Asian
neighbours in Maribyrnong “can be a bit
frightened until they know who you are”.
“We are always welcome because we
are respectful, we are polite to people,”
he says.
This is evident before the photoshoot
as Peter pilots his big bike up the
laneway in a polite, even cheerfully
deferential, manner between the curious
onlookers, making him seem more like a
motorised Santa Claus than a terrifying
marauder.
Even the skulls tattooed on Peter’s
arm aren’t a celebration of death and
darkness, in fact they are the opposite.
They are part of a motif inspired by
a verse from Canadian Christian singer
Bruce Cockburn, which is paraphrased
on the front of Peter’s arm: “Nothing
comes without some kind of fight, you
have to kick the darkness to make it
bleed light.”
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