Sexual violence survivors deserve better
Earlier this week, Daisy Coleman committed suicide. For those who don’t know her or haven’t watched the documentary on Netflix about her, called Audrie & Daisy, Daisy was a sexual assault survivor. When she was 14, she alleges she was gang raped by a group of high school football stars. Nothing was done and charges were never laid. These boys had a future, don’t you know? Just like Matthew Mcknight — the man in Edmonton convicted of five serial rapes. Last week, Mcknight was sentenced to only eight years because of his prospects for rehabilitation and because each rape was seen as an “isolated incident.”
I am a sexual assault survivor. Five years ago I was locked in a car and sexually assaulted by a man I was friends with for 20 years. I reported my assault to law enforcement, and told friends and family. Few believed me. I lost friends and some family members over this. I suffer from intense post- traumatic stress disorder. He has never been criminally charged.
It’s been a bad week for survivors and those of us who advocate for survivors. The last conversation I had with Daisy, the day before she died and one of the few times we talked on the phone, was about a Twitter thread I posted about MCKnight. We had first connected after her documentary came out, the year I was sexually assaulted, and her story about being shunned by her community after the assault resonated with me. I reached out and we formed a bond. Every time a high-profile case came and went without justice for the survivors we would talk. Every time we would say “maybe next time.”
After the Mcknight sentence she messaged me to tell me how sad it made her. We cried together. The last thing she ever said to me was to muse about whether the men who raped her had kids: “I hope they have daughters.” This sounds dark, maybe even cruel, but the anger and despair behind that comment is understandable to someone in “the club.” Perhaps then these men will learn something by having to worry about their daughters, the way they make us worry for ourselves.
What’s the club I referred to above? It’s from that old American cop show, Homicide: Life on the Street. There is a quote from an early episode I always use. A man whose wife has been murdered says, “The instant they pulled the trigger I lost my wife, but I joined a club. It’s a very exclusive club. But the funny thing about the club is that none of the members want to belong.”
Daisy and I were members of such a club. A club that seems to be constantly begging and pleading for equity and for justice, shouting for it until our throats are raw. A big part of that justice is the education of those in the criminal justice system, including the training of judges on issues related to sexual violence. In February 2017, in response to incidents like the Judge Robin Camp case in Calgary, where a judge asked a survivor why she didn’t “keep her knees together,” then-interim leader of the Conservative Party of Canada, Rona Ambrose, introduced a bill mandating sexual violence training for judges. It died in October 2019 in the Senate after having being unanimously passed in the House.
In February of this year, the Liberals introduced Bill C- 5, an act to amend the Judges Act and the Criminal Code. This bill restricts eligibility for judicial appointment to persons who take part in continuing education on matters related to sexual assault law and social context. It also amends the Judges Act to require that the Canadian Judicial Council report on seminars offered for the continuing education of judges on matters related to sexual assault law. Finally, it amends the Criminal Code to require that judges provide reasons for decisions in sexual assault precedent. It has passed second reading in the House of Commons but still needs to go through third reading and the Senate.
We need to pass mandated training for federal judges now. But we cannot stop there. The first level of judicial appointment is appointed by provincial committees. Like Prince Edward Island, every province needs to mandate training for provincial judges. We need training for police and the RCMP. We need to ensure anyone who comes in contact with survivors is trained to work with them.
My sweet, beautiful friend is gone. At 23, way before her time. The men she accused of raping her are free and living their lives. Women deserve a justice system that will give rapists a sentence that mirrors the pain they experienced, not the life they deserved, and as a member of this club I can’t escape, I won’t stop until that happens. For me, for them and for Daisy, my brave and amazing friend, we will keep fighting. Maybe next time.