‘IT’S BEEN AN AMAZING JOURNEY’
Justice advocate says she’s at peace with herself after making peace with the mother of her son’s killer
Supriya Deas can divide her life into before and after.
Before her son Isaac killed 16-yearold Jesse Cadman, she was an ordinary community member.
Overnight, she became an outcast.
People saw her picture in the newspaper and pointed. When she got on a bus, others moved away or got off.
The public judgment added to the guilt she struggled with every day.
“I felt I was a bad mother,” she said in an interview at a Langley hotel. “My son killed someone else’s son.”
Deas no longer lives in B.C., but flew into Vancouver a few days ago for a two-week visit.
Dona Cadman, Jesse’s mother, met her at the airport.
They embraced — perhaps a little awkwardly, Deas admits.
“It’s not an easy relationship,” she says, “but it’s an important one for all of us.” Cadman agrees. Building a friendship with Deas is something she would never have dreamt of. Fifteen years ago, she said, the notion of even contacting the mother of the boy who killed her son would have been absurd.
But since meeting Deas at a parole hearing two years ago and regularly staying in touch, Cadman has felt a sense of peace.
“I am more at peace with myself. I’m not as angry any more,” she told The Province.
“I never thought I’d be here, with the forgiveness. It’s been an amazing journey.”
On Friday night, the two moms talked about their experiences at a fundraiser for the Langley-based Community Justice Initiatives (CJI) program that facilitated their relationship almost a decade after their paths first crossed.
It was 1992 when Deas and Cadman first became aware of each other. The circumstances were the worst imaginable.
Dona’s son, 16-year-old Jesse, was walking home from a Surrey bus stop when he caught the eye of a group of teens. Among them was 16-year-old Isaac Deas.
High on drugs and alcohol, the group approached Jesse with the idea of beating him up. The beating grew vicious. Isaac pulled out a knife and stabbed Jesse in the back, piercing his heart and lung. The group fled, leaving Jesse to die by the side of the road.
Isaac was arrested a few days later. He was eventually convicted of second-degree murder.
The years that followed were dark.
The Cadmans became outspoken advocates for victims rights. Jesse’s dad Chuck was the public face of the family’s grief, eventually going into federal politics.
Isaac went to prison, of course, where he became more violent. While still a teen, he was transferred to a maximum-security facility in Quebec. He had little contact with his family apart from a few visits and letters.
For Deas, it was a decade of deep reflection.
“I had to take responsibility for myself,” she said, “and I had to learn to love someone unconditionally,” referring to her son.
She also came to the realization that she needed to make amends to society. “I was sorry about what happened, but saying ‘sorry’ over and over is not good enough. Sorry needs to be acted.”
Deas moved to Quebec. She took up residence in a small town an hour from the prison where few people spoke English. She began an entirely new life.
Five days a week, she took a bus to the closest bus stop to the prison. She walked a further 45 minutes to the gates. She became a familiar sight to the guards — a happy person, always dressed in white, toting incense and spiritual books for her son. Once inside, she was often the only visitor.
She spent the morning visiting hours with her son, left for lunch, then returned for the afternoon hours. She then made the long journey home.
During her visits, Deas taught Isaac to meditate. They talked for hours, sometimes searching for subjects, often focusing on Isaac’s hopes for the future.
“I said to him, ‘I’m not here to watch TV and eat chips. I’m here to help you.’ ”
The mother’s dedication had a big impact. Isaac developed a quiet, empathetic personality. Other inmates began calling him “Little Buddha” and asked for his help with problems. He began to think about the best way to apologize to the Cadmans.
Deas said that when Chuck Cadman died of cancer in 2005, Isaac was crushed. He felt he had missed his chance, or that his apology would seem disingenuous.
Eventually he worked up the courage to write a letter to Dona and her daughter Jodi. He sent it to CJI, which acts as a mediator between inmates and the families of victims.
“At this point, I was OK. He was OK. We were in a good place,” said Deas. “This was all about (the Cadmans). We wanted them to stop hurting. We wanted them to be OK too.”
Jodi agreed to accept Isaac’s letter after CJI contacted her about it. The two began to communicate and eventually met face-toface. It was a difficult meeting, but at the end Jodi told Isaac she forgave him.
CJI videotaped the meeting and both mothers eventually saw the film.
That led to another meeting, this time with both moms in attendance. Dona Cadman, too, forgave Isaac. CJI co-director Sandi Bergen said the non-profit program facilitates “whatever process” victims are all right with.
Sometimes they inform victims that an offender has written them an apology letter and ask if they’d like to see it. Sometimes they set up face-to-face meetings.
“Sometimes victims bring us long lists of questions that they want us to deliver,” she said.
Since his first meeting with the Cadmans, Isaac has been released on parole.
Like his mom, he no longer lives in B.C., but this place has great significance for them both.
They stay in touch with the Cadman family. They visit prisons together to tell their story. Sometimes, Cadman joins them. In fact, Cadman and Deas plan to write a book together about restorative justice.
The goal for everyone, said Deas, is to help others.
“In the prisons, wherever we go, we encourage people to take responsibility, to step up. It’s so easy to be trapped in fear, but we can’t stay there.
“If we live like that, then this murder took more than one life.”