Seeking pardon for thefts on P.E.I.
Anonymous donors help woman fighting for pardon
Earlier this month, Halifax’s Tina Reilly was looking at a life sentence of low-paying jobs for the shoplifting she did decades ago.
Now, two anonymous donors have stepped up to fund her fight for a pardon.
“I was extremely surprised and very flattered that someone would reach out to do something like that,” Reilly said.
“This is more progress than I’ve made in the last year. It’s really great to be able to move forward again.”
She wants to thank the man and woman who came forward to split the $2,000 she owes in restitution and the $631 it costs to apply for a pardon.
“It’s greatly appreciated. It was very touching,” Reilly said. “It gave me a bit of hope for the year ahead, or even my long-term future, actually. It was just a very touching, emotional thing that gave me a bit of faith in humanity again after a very rough, rough last couple of years.”
Now 47, Reilly’s shoplifting convictions for theft under $1,000 are from 1994, when she was living on Prince Edward Island.
A judge sentenced Reilly, a young mother at the time, to a week in jail for shoplifting items including diapers, food and toys, but she only served a few days.
When she was working with the Elizabeth Fry Society last year to apply for a pardon, Reilly learned she still owed about $2,000 in restitution for thefts from Zellers and Kmart, two stores that no longer exist.
Born in Halifax, Reilly grew up in P.E.I. and moved to Ontario for many years before returning to Halifax.
A Thunder Bay judge convicted her of assault in 2004. Reilly said that came about after she slapped her abusive and alcoholic partner at the end of a verbal argument. For that, she spent nine days in jail.
She started applying for the pardon last year when she returned to school at Eastern College for the oneyear medical admin program. But Reilly didn’t finish the process when the restitution issue cropped up.
“Now I’ve been trying to seek work in what I’m trained to do and have been turned down numerous times solely based on the fact that I have a criminal record,” she said earlier this month.
Reilly recently learned that even once she pays the restitution, she will likely have to wait years to apply for a pardon.
“I’m hoping that it’s something that I can fight,” she said.
Hanna Garson, a criminal lawyer practising in Halifax, fielded one of the donations from a woman after Reilly’s story first appeared in The Chronicle Herald.
“Within a systemic problem was the plight of an individual with a conquerable amount of outstanding money,” Garson said.
“So, I think the ability to make a real difference in a person’s life in such a targeted manner really is a motivating thing, instead of this huge issue that you don’t know how much you can contribute to.”
Reilly has completed her studies to become a medical administration specialist, but can’t find an eight-week work placement to finish the course because of her criminal record.
“When somebody has managed to turn their life around so significantly and wants to be a contributing member to society and has done everything they can to do so, and they still are unable to really rejoin the workforce because of outstanding fines or particular policy points or law changes, even if you’re tough on crime or not, it’s something that really seems unfair and that people think should be changed,” Garson said.
Another donor who wants to remain anonymous reached out to Emma Halpern, executive director of the Elizabeth Fry Society of Mainland Nova Scotia, offering to help pay for Reilly’s quest for a pardon.
“My sense was they just wanted it to not be about them,” Halpern said of the donors.
Halpern is planning to meet with Reilly Friday to discuss their options.
The Parole Board of Canada handles thousands of requests for pardons every year.
Halpern is hoping to find some wiggle room so Reilly can get her pardon sooner than three years from now.
“There’s no clear avenue for that argument to be made,” Halpern said. “But you never know.”
Either way, they plan to immediately pay the restitution she owes.
“Otherwise, the clock does not start ticking until that gets paid off,” Halpern said.
“So, I think we’re going to pay that off right away and then still try and fight the time frame.”
The parole board often seems keen on offenders turning their lives around.
“The part that we haven’t been able to figure out yet … is whether there is any discretion,” Halpern said.
“It’s a very, very compelling case, clearly. It’s just sometimes legislation is written in such a way that there is no discretion. … If there is wiggle room or discretion, I believe this is a case where that would be utilized. From my initial read, I don’t know that that exists. I don’t know that there’s much flexibility on the part of a decision-maker to reduce that time frame."
That’s not going to stop Halpern from going to bat. “We are still game to explore every option,” she said. “We are committed to overturning every stone to try to figure out if there’s a way to reduce that three years.”
Elizabeth Fry runs a record suspension clinic every Friday at its Queen Street office in Dartmouth. Halpern said it’s well attended by a lot of women in the same boat as Reilly, with criminal records for minor offences that happened long ago.
“These types of offences should just automatically expire,”
Halpern said. “There is absolutely … no public safety purpose, no social good purpose to having records like this stick around in perpetuity. It makes no sense.”
Reilly’s criminal record should be “long gone,” she said.
“They should certainly have an exceptional circumstances provision that allows (the parole board to review cases like Reilly’s) and do the right thing,” Halpern said.