abuse

We have power, voice

On the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, Rolene Marks had a heartrending plea to the hundreds of people who attended a virtual event titled Stop the Violence.

“As our hostage plight fades from the minds of the world, we plead to you, be the voices of our hostages,” she said. “We know what our women and girls are enduring – they’ve been sexually violated and continue to be violated. The impact on their mental health is unfathomable. Don’t let your government or the world forget that there are 101 hostages and we need them home now. We are a devastated nation, deep in trauma. Unless we get them home, this will be a wound that will never, ever heal.”

Marks, a South African-Israeli consultant and journalist, was one of two panelists interviewed by Dana Levenson on Nov. 25 in a virtual event organized by CHW (Canadian Hadassah-WIZO), Na’amat Canada, Momentum Canada, Canadian Women Against Antisemitism and National Council of Jewish Women of Canada. She was joined by Jay Rosenzweig, a lawyer dedicated to advancing safety for women, in speaking out about violence and femicide.

Globally, in 2023, a woman was killed every 10 minutes. In 2022, 133 women or girls were killed daily by someone in their own family. And one in every three women experiences physical or sexual violence in their lives. But statistics don’t resonate, Marks insisted. People remember stories, not numbers.

Both panelists said the silence from the United Nations and the media with respect to the sexual violence perpetrated by Hamas against women in Israel is – and continues to be – deplorable. Marks said that, in October 2024, when members of the foreign press visited the sites decimated by Hamas terrorists, she saw a complete lack of empathy. “It was like they were ticking something off their to-do list by being there. They’ve completely lost any impetus to report and tell the truth,” she said.

But it’s possible to “fell an elephant with a mosquito,” she continued, citing an African proverb. “We’re not powerless or voiceless. We need to become that mosquito, to demand that journalists employ the ethics of good journalism. We’ve got the law and ombudsmen there to adjudicate, and we need to make use of the tools available to us, remembering that every one of us has power.”

Rosenzweig said members of the Jewish community need to do more in leveraging technology to confront injustice.

“We can do better when it comes to communicating online, because technology and the digital world can be a neutralizer,” he said. “Dialoging outside of our community can also help turn the tide, so we should be reaching outside the Jewish community to find commonality with other communities, for example the Indigenous community. We can find common cause with them by speaking as one indigenous people to another.”

Marks suggested participants host screenings of the documentary Screams Before Silence. She encouraged younger members of the community to get involved by “adopting a hostage” or a victim of the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks and becoming familiar with their lives.

“By making those stories very personal, it is easier to share with others and to connect with peers from other communities,” she said. “Tell the stories of Naama Levy, Daniella Gilboa and the other girls being held hostage. They are stories of teenagers who went to dance for peace, and our teenagers can connect to these people. These stories help to humanize us as a people at a time when dehumanization is so pervasive.”

To watch the event, go to YouTube and search “Stop the Violence – A Collaborative Virtual Event.”

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.

Prevention is ultimate goal

World Elder Abuse Awareness Day will be marked with a community-wide event hosted by Jewish Family Services, in partnership with many other agencies. (photo from nvrc.ca)

According to a World Health Organization study, half the world’s population bears a prejudice against the elderly. Jewish Family Services in Vancouver, which shares that statistic on its website, notes that roughly 17% of people over the age of 60 worldwide are victims of elder abuse. The agency also notes that about 20% of Canadians believe older people are a burden on society, and that approximately 80% of Canadian seniors report discrimination in health care.

On June 15, at 10 a.m., JFS will host a free community-wide event in recognition of World Elder Abuse Awareness Day (WEAAD) in the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver’s Wosk Auditorium. Rights Don’t Get Old: Let’s Unite Against Elder Abuse will cover what can be done to prevent – what many recent studies have shown to be – a growing problem. Featured speakers include Michael Lee, MLA for Vancouver-Langara and shadow minister for Indigenous relations and reconciliation; Isobel McKenzie, British Columbia’s seniors advocate; and Linda Youk of Seniors First BC.

“A very important element of elder abuse is that it can happen to anyone,” said Cindy McMillan, director of programs and community partnerships at JFS. “We shouldn’t make assumptions about who is at risk and who is not. Awareness that it exists, and that there are supports out there … is what June 15 is all about.”

For JFS, “a nonprofit that supports up to 1,200 seniors annually to live at home safely and with dignity, elder abuse prevention, detection and response is an essential part of support,” she said. “This year, following several years of COVID, and subsequent isolation of many older adults, I felt it was very timely to bring the community together to create more awareness around this issue.”

Elder abuse comprises varying forms of mistreatment, the most commonly reported being neglect, followed by emotional and financial abuse. Physical abuse is also prevalent, with 8.8% of abused seniors experiencing physical violence, according to data provided by JFS. Elder abuse can occur in numerous settings, including within the home, at care facilities and in the community. Most reported cases involve family members, with adult children and spouses being the most common perpetrators.

A Statistics Canada report released in 2019 stated that nearly one in five seniors had experienced some form of abuse. A report from the Office of the Seniors Advocate in British Columbia, using data from 2017 to 2021, found a 49% increase in neglect and self-neglect, an 87% increase in reported physical abuse and a 49% increase in financial abuse over that five-year period.

Neglect is often underreported, both because of a lack of awareness as to what constitutes neglect and the potential stigma associated with the admission of neglect, explained McMillan. Neglect can manifest in different ways, such as providing insufficient food and water, failing to administer medication, leaving an older adult in dirty and unsafe living conditions, and not seeking medical attention for the elderly person when it is needed.

Financial abuse, or the exploitation of older adults for monetary gain, can have serious ramifications. Despite numerous laws in place to prevent it, B.C. seniors lose an estimated $50 million annually because of financial abuse, with only one in five cases reported.

WEAAD was launched in 2006 by the International Network for the Prevention of Elder Abuse and the World Health Organization at the United Nations.

“JFS has always been involved in WEAAD, primarily through our Better at Home program, where we have partnered with different community organizations to have smaller events that promote awareness,” said McMillan. “Our involvement stems from our connection with the Marpole Community Response Network, who is at the forefront of providing information and education on elder abuse.”

Better at Home is a JFS-coordinated program, administered by the United Way, which helps seniors in Kerrisdale, Oakridge, Marpole, Southlands and Dunbar with non-medical, day-to-day tasks such as housekeeping, transportation, grocery shopping, visits and handyperson repairs. The program’s objective is to assist seniors so that they can continue to live independently in their own homes and remain connected to their communities.

This year’s June 15 event will have numerous resource tables located in the atrium of the JCC. Among the groups presenting are the Alzheimer Society of British Columbia, JQT Vancouver, Kerrisdale Oakridge Marpole Community Policing Centre, L’Chaim Adult Day Centre, ASK Friendship Society and ReAct Adult Protection Program of Vancouver Coastal Health.

In a statement to the Independent, JFS said it “was very grateful to have partners like the Jewish Federation, the JCC, the Better at Home Program and Seniors First BC coming together to put on such an important event.”

To register for Rights Don’t Get Old: Let’s Unite Against Elder Abuse, visit jfsvancouver.ca. Refreshments will be provided.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Indigenous children mourned

The bodies of 215 children were recently discovered buried adjacent to a former residential school in Kamloops, B.C. (photo from flickr.com/photos/bcgovphotos)

Jody Wilson-Raybould, member of Parliament for Vancouver-Granville and a member of the We Wai Kai Nation, told students at Vancouver Talmud Torah Elementary School last week that most of her family members attended residential schools and she spoke of the tragic legacy of that project, which devastated Indigenous communities for generations.

“Residential schools, these institutions, are a very dark part of our history,” she said, speaking directly to students at a ceremony organized to mourn the 215 children whose bodies were recently discovered buried adjacent to a former residential school in Kamloops, B.C. Most of the city’s rabbis were also in attendance.

“They were in existence for over 100 years in Canada, from the 1870s to 1996, when the last one closed in Saskatchewan. The last one closed in British Columbia in 1984,” said Wilson-Raybould of the residential schools. “These institutions were created by the law of Canada and run by churches. There were 139 residential schools across the country and it’s estimated that 150,00 First Nations, Inuit and Métis children attended the schools, forcibly removed from their homes, compelled to attend, and the purpose of residential schools, as stated by the first prime minister of this country, was to remove the Indian from the child, to get rid of the ‘Indian problem’ in this country.”

She added: “People have asked me, as I know they’ve asked many Indigenous peoples, how do you feel? I feel angry. I feel frustrated. And I feel a deep sense of sadness, because this is not an isolated incident. There will be more that will be revealed and we have to recognize that every Indigenous person in this country has a connection to residential schools and the harmful legacies that still exist. But I am still optimistic. Optimistic that, through young people like you … that we can make a change in this country.”

Speaking of her family’s experiences, Wilson-Raybould singled out her grandmother, who she has frequently cited as her hero, and talked of the courage and resilience her grandmother exhibited.

“Most of my relatives went to residential schools,” she said. “My grandmother, Pugladee, was taken away from her home when she was a very young girl and forced to go to the Indian residential school St. Michael’s, in Alert Bay. She faced terrible violence at that school, but she escaped from that school and she made it home and she is the knowledge keeper in my nation.”

Emily Greenberg, Vancouver Talmud Torah head of school, welcomed guests in person and online, expressing empathy for Indigenous Canadians, faced again with the reminder of this country’s past.

“Their wounds have been reopened once again and their suffering renewed,” she said. “Today, our community gathers to grieve with them and open our hearts to their struggles.”

Rabbi Dan Moskovitz of Temple Sholom contrasted the lives of the children buried in Kamloops with the lives and educational experiences of the Talmud Torah students attending the ceremony, who, he said, “are immersed in their own language and culture and traditions” – the very things Canada’s residential schools system was designed to extinguish in Indigenous young people.

“Our hearts break today not only for the loss of life,” said Moskovitz. “They break for the loss of childhood, the loss of innocence, the loss of joy, of play, of family, of heritage that was stolen from those children by the misguided aims of our nation. It was a different era. It was a different time, but if our people, the Jewish people, have learned anything from our history of trauma and persecution, it is these words: that those who do not study history are bound to repeat it. Echoed by the warning of the Jewish people from the Holocaust, from the Shoah – never again – we have learned, and we know in our souls, that the greatest tribute we can offer these children and their families is not words of condolence, but acts of conscience. The purpose of prayer is to lead us to action, to make our prayer real, not in heaven but here on earth.”

Rabbi Jonathan Infeld of Congregation Beth Israel said that “the children who we are remembering today were forced to go to schools and to a specific school that ripped away their culture, attempted to take away from them their language, attempted to take them literally away from their families.” Addressing the students, he emphasized the message Moskovitz shared: “Today, we are remembering children who had the exact opposite of the opportunities that you have.”

Or Shalom’s Rabbi Hannah Dresner expressed the unity of Jewish, Indigenous and all peoples. “We share a destiny as co-inhabitants of this land and because we are of the same holy stuff, the same flesh and blood and the same God-breath,” she said, encouraging members of the Jewish community to “respond not just in our sentiments but through ongoing engagement service and grace.”

Dresner said: “Justice is what love looks like in the public sphere. Loving our neighbours, our fellows, as ourselves. And so, we stand with Indigenous fellows in love, for justice, for the actualization of recovered records and supportive measures for holistic, multifaceted healing and reparation.”

Rabbi Andrew Rosenblatt of Congregation Schara Tzedeck spoke of the Jewish concept that one who extinguishes even a single life is considered to have destroyed an entire world. “Today, we remember, at a minimum, the destruction of 215 worlds,” he said. “A significant portion of these children died while trying to escape to reunite with their families. They died of exposure in the cold, the frost, simply trying to do one thing that every human being would … simply trying to return to their own families.”

Carrie Plotkin, a Grade 5 student, read the poem “You hold me up,” by Monique Gray Smith. “It was written to encourage us young people, our care providers and our educators to talk about reconciliation and the importance of the connections children make with our friends, classmates and families,” she said.

Rabbi Shlomo Gabay of Beth Hamidrash read a 1936 poem from Rabbi Yosef Tzvi Carlebach of Hamburg, Germany. Cantor Yaacov Orzech sang Psalm 23.

The 215 bodies were discovered using ground-penetrating radar. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission estimated that 4,100 children died at residential schools from abuse, neglect, diseases and accidents. Many were never repatriated to their families and communities and, in many cases, deaths were sloppily recorded using just a given name or a surname and sometimes even completely anonymously. Advocates are calling on the government to commit to identifying more remains and to releasing archival documentation on the schools that has remained sealed.

You take care now, y’hear?

I just realized that, lately, I had unconsciously changed the way I say goodbye, particularly when I am speaking with women. As a younger person, it wouldn’t have occurred to me to say “Take care!” when parting with people. What’s more? It’s happening even when I have casual interactions. I started thinking about where my new-to-me phrase comes from and where I’d heard it before.

I was out walking my dogs when one of them (the young, spry Setter mix) kicked me in the shin. I looked down, in pain, when I saw that she, too, was surprised. She’d slipped on the slick sidewalk and certainly hadn’t meant to hurt me. A man at the bus stop remarked how icy it was, and I agreed. I said, “Take care!”

Later, my household was in bed when we heard an ominous thump outside. My husband made a joke, we laughed and went to sleep. In the morning, I saw a thoroughly smashed car, its front end bashed in. It faced the wrong way on a busy street near our home. Across the intersection, there was a truck, also facing the wrong direction, somehow wedged into someone’s yard. It was slippery, indeed.

Often the habit of suggesting people take care is aligned with another statement though, something like, “Things are more dangerous these days.” However, our Torah readings from this time of year, in Genesis, remind us that things have always been dicey out there, particularly for women and for those in positions of less power in society.

For instance, when the three strangers tell Abraham that Sarah will have Isaac, she laughs (Genesis 18:12-15). However, this is quickly followed by Abraham’s question about why she laughed and she says, “I didn’t laugh.” Why? “Because she was frightened.” Why did she lie? Well, she was an old woman. Strangers told her something ridiculous and then she was asked to take it seriously. She was afraid. Sarah wouldn’t be the first or last woman to feel threatened and unsafe. If something like this situation happened today, I wouldn’t leave until I’d said, “Take care.”

Not much further along in Genesis, Abraham bargains with G-d, asking how many people in Sodom have to be righteous for G-d to save the city. Abraham has some power here. He feels emboldened to speak out, but he also gets to stay home rather than go to Sodom to try and fix things. Instead, two angels go to Sodom.

Lot takes the angels in as his guests, but when a crowd gathers to do the visitors harm, Lot suggests an unsettling exchange. He says that, rather than let the crowd “be intimate with them,” he’ll send out his two young daughters instead. He will sacrifice his daughters to be violated by the crowd (Genesis 19:8) rather than let his male guests be endangered.

Reading Genesis, I am reminded by how these dangerous situations, and particularly ones that threaten women, are not at all new. These are issues of power, control and sexuality. In a modern political comparison: we act as though the MMIWG (missing and murdered indigenous women and girls) report and its findings are new or different. In fact, violence against women, and specifically minority women in vulnerable situations, is a bad news story played on repeat. These threats are close to home, and they remain frightening.

When I hear myself telling a friend – a single mom whose father just died – to take care, I realize who I am echoing in my head. I hear older African-American women in my Virginia neighbourhood saying goodbye to me: “You take care now, y’hear?” I hear my mom sighing as she hung up the phone (it was avocado green, with a long cord so she could cook while talking) at home when I was younger. She said goodbye with a worried expression that her friend couldn’t see, saying “Bye! Take care.”

This is the closing comment of women, all over, who know that the world can be dangerous. We’re sending out our concern to those we love. We’re acknowledging that, sometimes, we must depend solely on ourselves, because it doesn’t look like anyone (including G-d) is stepping up to keep us safe.

Sometimes, Bereishit (Genesis) offers stories to dig into. I enjoy their meaty narrative. I love interpreting what it all means. Other sections cause me to sigh just as my mom did. In a world where women still don’t have any assurance of safety from war, crowds and violence, and where those who have less power are at the mercy of the powerful, it’s hard not to feel sadness. How little things change.

This also is a continuing opportunity for social justice. We can fight for a better place for everyone. We can seek out and care for those around us, rather than choosing to discriminate or discard lives, as Lot would have done to his daughters. In the meanwhile, I’m often slipping down the icy street, worrying and wondering over how I can spread a sukkat shalom (a shelter of peace) over those I love and care for. So, I’ll say what many wise women have said before me. You take care now, y’hear?

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Colour bursts forth in Conjunction

Ira Hoffecker’s current solo exhibit at the Zack Gallery, Conjunction, runs until July 21. (photo by Olga Livshin)

Conjunction, Ira Hoffecker’s current solo exhibit at the Zack Gallery, opened on June 13 and runs until July 21.

German-born Hoffecker and her family moved to Canada in 2004. “I always liked art, but when I lived in Germany, my husband and I worked in marketing for the movie industry,” she explained in an interview with the Independent.

Once, when her children were still young, they came here for a family vacation and traveled Vancouver Island. “We loved it,” she said. So much that, when they moved here permanently, they settled in Victoria. As if that wasn’t change enough, Hoffecker also decided to switch careers and follow her lifelong love of art. She enrolled in the Vancouver Island School of Art and has been studying and creating ever since.

Hoffecker’s previous show at the Zack Gallery, in 2016, was dedicated to maps. Since then, her art has undergone a couple of transformations. Conjunction is much brighter and more expressive set of works, although the abstract component remains.

On the journey to her new colourful mode, Hoffecker went through a black-and-white stage, which was the focus of her master’s in fine arts’ thesis, which she completed last year. The works she created for her master’s degree include a number of huge paintings – abstracts made with tar on canvas – plus three documentary videos. The theme – “History as Personal Memory” – was a painful one for the artist. She recalled, “One of my professors said that my works are the interconnected layers of urban setting and history. ‘Where is your personal layer?’ he asked me.”

Taking this advice, she has been trying to delve into her personal recollections, to uncover her place in history, her “personal layer” among the historical layers dominating her art. “In ‘History as Personal Memory,’ I tore pages from a history book about the Third Reich, an era in history that many Germans would prefer to forget. Yet I think it is important to face and discuss this past. Such dialogue might prevent the horrors from happening again,” she said.

In Hoffecker’s art, the artist’s memories are intertwined with the history of her nation. “Correlations between my childhood abuse, which I tried to forget, and the history of Germany, which the Germans tried to eradicate from their memories, exist in my paintings and films,” she said.

In her art and her videos, she opens up about the abuse she suffered as a child at the hands of her grandfather, who was also a Nazi. She is convinced that such openness has helped her heal, whereas suppressing the memories led only to the festering of her inner wounds.

The same is true for historical memories, Hoffecker insisted. “Germany needs to remember, to confront and challenge complacency to prevent a repetition of historical atrocities,” she said.

Her master’s thesis was a deep and painful discovery, a journey in black-and-white to underscore the grimness and tragedy of the topic. Once it was completed, she was ready for a change of direction.

“I spent the summer last year in Berlin,” she said. “When I came back home to Victoria, I wanted to paint some colours again.”

Hoffecker’s current exhibit bursts with vibrant colours and optimism. The series Berlin Spaces, like most of her paintings, has several layers. “There are outlines of many famous Berlin buildings there,” she said, tracing the architectural lines embedded in the abstract patterns with her finger. “The Jewish Museum, the Philharmonie, the library, the Reichstag. It is like a reconstruction, when I think about the past. I overlay history and architecture.”

One of the paintings, a bright yellow-and-pink abstract, has writing among its patterns. “It means ‘forgetting’ in German,” Hoffecker explained. “A few years ago, I was invited to have a solo show in Hof, a city in Germany. I worked there in the archives, found many old maps and records. One of their buildings is a factory now. After the war, it was a refugee camp, and there is a plaque to commemorate the fact. But, during the war, it was a labour camp, a place from where Jewish prisoners were transported to concentration camps and death, but nothing is there to remind [people] of that past. The painting reflects the current happy state of the building, but it also reflects the tragic past, the past we shouldn’t forget.”

While not many art lovers will see the horrors of the labour camp in the airy and cheerful palette of the painting, Hoffecker doesn’t mind. Like other abstract artists, she infuses her images with hidden messages, but doesn’t insist on her personal intentions.

“I own the making,” she said. “I bring in my memories and my heart, but I have to leave the interpretation to the viewers. One man in Victoria loves my art. He bought two of my paintings. He said he sees animal in them. I don’t paint animals, but I’m glad people’s own experience resonates with my paintings.”

Hoffecker is very serious about her art, but bemoans the need for promotion. “I did marketing for movies professionally, but I never really cared [about the reaction]. If someone didn’t like the movie we were pushing, it was his business,” she said. “But to promote my own paintings is scary. When someone doesn’t like what I do, I care. It hurts. I don’t want to do it. An artist wants to be in her studio and paint. It is all I want: to paint and to exhibit. I want people to see my work. Besides, a show is the only time when I see many of my paintings together. I never can do that in my studio. I only see one or two at a time.”

To learn more about Hoffecker’s work, visit irahoffecker.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

A personal perspective

April Ford (photo by Antonella Fratino)

In the fifth and final articles of a series on sexual harassment and violence, the Jewish Independent speaks with Montreal writer April Ford.

As the late Maya Angelou wrote in I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

Montreal-born fiction writer and essayist April Ford, who has been working as associate publisher for Southern Fried Karma, a literary press in Atlanta, Ga., since December 2017, knows this all too well.

“I’m honoured to stand alongside any woman who’s been mistreated, whether or not there’s a hashtag appended to her experience,” said Ford, a bold, heart-on-her-sleeve survivor of abuse. “The #MeToo movement, like any grassroots quest for equality, is one of unleashed compassion, controversy and confrontation … and, right now, it’s a mess. Sometimes, it seems more interested in the public shaming du jour of a celebrity sexual predator than in collective healing, and that frustrates me.”

Ford said she is not a believer in public shaming. “Black Mirror brilliantly depicts this nastiness in White Bear, season 2, episode 2,” she said.

“I’m even skeptical about how much the #MeToo movement can help women who’ve been abused, but who don’t have Twitter accounts, blogs or access to other popular venues for the dissemination of dark secrets to the masses … in exchange for emoticons and the chance to go viral,” she added.

In terms of some of the stories that have come out of the movement and how they have affected her, Ford said, “The story I’ve followed most closely is that of Concordia University in Montreal, where I completed the undergraduate creative writing program in 2007. Throughout the course of my degree, I spent a lot of time on campus as an aspiring but uncertain writer, and I sought mentorship from a handful of professors. I was consistently treated very, very well – there were no strings, pressures or consequences attached to the help and encouragement I received. That said, thanks to rumours, I knew to stay away from certain individuals within that concentrated world.

“Also, I started the program when I was 23 and, I think, being a few years older than the typical undergraduate student buffered me against harassment. Or maybe the negative experiences in my life outside of the program had trained me how to get through a situation as cleanly as possible, without giving anything away that wasn’t part of the experience I had signed on for, or having it taken from me without my consent.”

Regarding some of the high-profile people who have been outed as abusers via the #MeToo movement, Ford said, “I certainly have an opinion about how to cope with the abusive actions of people, whether family members, friends, mentors, celebrities or demi-gods. First, you have to be clear on your definition of abuse … and consistent. If you’re going to accuse one person of abusing you, then you can’t switch to a sliding scale when some actor or comedian you love is proven guilty of the same offence. And, no, I don’t believe you can separate the teacher, leader or artist from the abuser. That’s like saying you can separate all the white fur from the cream fur in a cat the colour of sand. It’s ridiculous.”

Ford was adopted as a child and only discovered after marrying a Jewish man (they have since divorced) – that her birth family may have Jewish roots.

When she was 15 years old, her adoptive parents, who had been fighting for years, decided to call it quits. Her mother left their home. Not long after, Ford lost her virginity to Bruce, a 34-year-old man. Up until then, she said, she “had hardly kissed a boy.”

Bruce instructed her to start taking birth control, “which I did,” said Ford, “as soon as I found a clinic that would dispense the pill to me for free and without questions like, ‘Where are your parents?’

“While my parents were dealing with the failure of their marriage, I was dealing with the euphoria and confusion that come with being a 15-year-old girl with no adult in her life to anchor her to a safe place. My mother, in trying to move forward from the damage my father’s abuse had caused her, was unable to be a mother to me. My father, in trying to hold his world together with rage, essentially fast-tracked me into the hands of a man who … [abused] me. I did my best to keep quiet – to hide the fact that this man I had rebelliously told everyone that I loved more than life itself was raping me every weekend.

“A lot of people in my life at the time could sense there was more to the story,” she said. “But, instead of getting involved or simply buying me a hot chocolate and asking how I was doing, they stopped being my friends.”

At that time, the mothers of Ford’s former friends insulted her with terms like “slut” and “whore” and said she had no business being anywhere near their daughters, sons and husbands. Ford went from being a decent student at a private Catholic high school for girls, a horse-lover and aspiring Olympic rider, to being what she referred to as “someone to be ashamed of, an afterthought.”

Ford can still vividly recall the whispers that, to her ears, were like screams of “all-knowing” grownups predicting that she was – at that young age – already done for; that she would end up pregnant, hooked on drugs and collecting welfare.

“None of that happened,” said Ford. “Not even close. Over the years, I’ve occasionally reconnected with people from that period. And, after they express exaggerated delight to see how well I’ve done for myself, they’d defensively stammer things like, ‘You seemed so mature and into your own thing … we just figured that’s how it was…. You said you were happy. Anyway, look at you now. Everything happens for a reason, right?’ No, it doesn’t.

“I’m sure some survivors can relate to my next statement: Bruce didn’t abuse me all the time. Not every time we had sex was rape, and there were times when he tried to initiate and I refused, and my wish was granted.” But there were several instances, as well as other types of abuse, that are too graphic to describe here.

Ford finds the whole concept of “moving on” troubling.

“It’s not a tidy process and it takes time,” said Ford. “It takes a lifetime. For me, moving on involved a lot of self-injurious behaviour in my late teens through to my 20s, and a lot of self-hate that I eventually learned to disguise as wit.

“My ‘disguise’ actually helped me push forward, to appear exponentially more confident than I was, so that I could create opportunities for myself. I’ve found there’s an expectation of real-life survivors of abuse to tell our tales demurely, to dab our eyes and conclude with, ‘But that was then, and I am stronger for it.’”

One message Ford has for other survivors is to not assume that people, including family and friends, will protect the deeply personal stories and truths you tell them. She advised that survivors tell their stories to the authorities and to people in positions to protect them, physically and legally. Most importantly, Ford stressed that survivors take charge of their emotional safety.

“In the years immediately following my break up with Bruce, I felt constantly in need of confessing my unworthiness to anyone who didn’t know the story, from new acquaintances to college professors to bartenders,” said Ford. “Thankfully, there haven’t been many cases where someone I’d confided in judged me unfairly. Mostly, people are compassionate and kind. But then, just last year, a pair of colleagues at the university where I had taught for eight years ‘profiled’ me, let’s call it … because they disagreed with a choice I’d made in my private life. They accused me of victimhood, based on what I’d shared with them in our friendships. We are no longer friends.”

As a self-described atheist, when in need of support, Ford prefers systems she can interact with directly, such as “proper nutrition, regular exercise and sleep hours, close friends and cuddly animals, work and pastimes that light joyful fires in her belly, and the occasional double shot of rum with a splash of Coke on the side. These things I can trust to always be available to me, and I am free to adjust and readjust their proportions to fit my always in-flux needs.

“What has not worked for me, in terms of healing, is writing about my experiences for the sole purpose of healing. I am a fiction writer to the bone. Sure, I graft details from my life onto the stories I write. But, actually, I use fiction to explore other people’s nightmares, so that I can take a break from my own. I need one kind of noise in my head to cancel out the survivor noise, if that makes sense.”

While Ford hopes that sharing her story here will do some good in the world, she would rather not impose her story on anyone. Further, she feels strongly that no one who has been abused is obligated to become a spokesperson for others.

“Sometimes,” she said, “the abuse a person experiences is so extreme that she needs the rest of her life just to learn how to step outside of her house without fear.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Taking abusers to court

In the third of a series of articles on sexual harassment and violence in the Jewish community, the Jewish Independent speaks with lawyer Megan Ellis, Q.C.

Megan Ellis is one of the first lawyers in Canada to have devoted a significant part of her practice to pursuing claims on behalf of adult survivors of sexual assault and childhood sexual abuse.

In 1976, Ellis began volunteering at a rape crisis centre in Vancouver. This led to jobs working at rape crisis centres in Vancouver and in London, England, from the late 1970s to early 1980s.

“I was interested in law,” she said. “I always have been. It was my intention to become a lawyer eventually.”

Ellis passed the bar in 1988 and went into civil claims. In 1992, she and her partner led a successful challenge to the time limitation in Canada. As a result, in 1993, the law was changed in British Columbia, and the province became the first jurisdiction in Canada to remove the time limit for survivors to bring claims against perpetrators and institutions regarding sexual abuse.

In that groundbreaking case, an uncle was charged with sexually abusing several girls in the family over several decades from the 1950s to 1970. The girls were toddlers – as young as 2 years old – when the abuse began, and it continued into their early teens.

Many more cases have since followed.

“I have children’s parents who call me and ask what to do when their kids have been sexually abused,” said Ellis. “I discuss with them what they want their outcome to look like. Often, they haven’t decided if they want to go through a criminal process or not. So, they have to make that decision initially. If they decide they want to go through a criminal process, I ask them to wait until that is concluded before commencing a civil process – unless there are unusual circumstances, like it looks like the perpetrator might die, move all their assets to a Swiss bank account, or something like that.”

Once a decision is made to proceed through the civil system, Ellis collects all the relevant documents, such as income records, counseling records, medical records and educational records – as much information as possible. She then reviews everything and starts the process of drafting the legal documents, filing them and serving them to the perpetrator or institution.

“One thing I always discuss is whether or not that should be preceded by a demand letter,” said Ellis. “Sometimes, I collect all the information and put together a settlement letter in hopes the person will settle and pay out the claim, rather than go through the more public civil system.”

The settlement letter states what the accused did, that these are the consequences and the accuser wants X amount of dollars paid within a given time frame. The letter also states that, if the accused does not pay, the accuser will sue.

If the perpetrator does not settle, one can expect the legal cost to run between $10,000 and $15,000. Ellis advises her clients to verify that the perpetrator has assets.

“There are many people I have to tell, ‘Look, I do not doubt what you’re telling me at all, but it might appear that the perpetrator doesn’t have assets,’” said Ellis. “And there’s no point suing someone who doesn’t have assets.”

Claimants also need to take into consideration that, to date, the damages awarded for sexual abuse have been very low; in some cases, similar to what someone would get for mild whiplash from an accident.

“They don’t actually recognize the long-term effects of one incident, depending on the circumstances,” said Ellis. “They’ve been getting better over the years, but there’s still quite a long stretch before judges understand the very serious long-term implications.… There are 25-year-olds who get raped and it has a profound impact on the rest of their lives. The social reaction to being raped and the effects that it has are long-term. They are permanent. I think it’s fair to say that anyone who’s been raped has been permanently changed by that experience.”

In British Columbia, a lawsuit can take two to three years from start to finish. As for privacy, one can expect a ban on publication, though that is not guaranteed. Both the court records and courtrooms are publicly accessible.

If one is determined to confront their perpetrator, they may have a hard time finding representation. Lawyers who take on such cases are overburdened.

“My instructions for my staff are that I am booked for no more than four consultations per week,” said Ellis. “That was two or three years ago. Now, I’ve cut off … I’m not able to take more. I have enough now to keep me going for quite some time and I can’t possibly take any new cases. So, it’s gone from four per week to zero. And I’m not keeping tabs on all the people I’m turning away. I give other names, but I’m not sure of who’s taking these cases at the moment.”

Ellis has been instrumental in changing the law that allowed perpetrators to claim bankruptcy to escape paying the judgment.

“What started to happen in the first few years I was doing this is that the perpetrators would fight the cases and then spend all their money defending themselves,” said Ellis. “And then, they’d end up going bankrupt and walk away from the judgment.

“I was involved in amendments to the bankruptcy and insolvency act, which meant that you didn’t get rid of a judgment for assault or sexual assault just by going into bankruptcy – the judgment survives the bankruptcy. So, they may have gotten rid of their assets, but they haven’t lost their capacity to earn income, their inheritances … there are ways to go after them. The perpetrator’s thinking before was that they’d rather pay lawyers than pay their accusers, thinking that, then, it’ll be gone and they won’t have to worry about it.

“Funnily enough, I haven’t had a case where the perpetrator has gone into bankruptcy since.”

Since the #MeToo movement, Ellis has noticed a change in how various companies and institutions deal with their responsibility, a shift to more appropriate responses to allegations of abuse. The movement also has helped instil in people’s minds is that, typically, when it comes to sexual abuse, there is not just one victim, there are many.

“This is because there are all kinds of efforts the perpetrator makes to silence their victims,” said Ellis. “Societal mores are such that it doesn’t take a whole lot, because there’s fear and disbelief … and then, the perpetrator adds to it by saying, ‘If you ever tell anyone, you won’t be believed,’ etc.

“One thing that is particularly problematic in institutions is that they generally turn a blind eye in order to protect themselves … unless somebody’s standing on their doorstep with a picket sign.

“Essentially, what’s happened is that someone is now standing on their doorstep with a picket sign. Many of the institutions I’ve sued, there were, I believe, people, who knew but didn’t come forward, partly due to consequences for workers, teachers, social workers … for coming forward and making an accusation. They don’t want to take it on.”

Institutions are learning the hard way that it’s more cost effective for them to educate their employees about what abuse is and to report it.

“One place where there is still a lot of abuse is in the workplace,” said Ellis, giving the example of sexual harassment. “But, that’s an employment law context and I personally have never dealt with those cases.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Abuse comes in many forms

In the second of a series of articles on sexual harassment and violence in the Jewish community, the Jewish Independent speaks with Dr. Alan Stamp, clinical director at Vancouver’s Jewish Family Services.

The #MeToo movement, founded by Tarana Burke in 2006, is based on the concept that empowerment for scores of survivors is possible through empathy – from survivors knowing they are not alone. The movement aims to achieve radical community healing and disruption of all systems that have allowed sexual violence to flourish.

Dr. Alan Stamp, clinical director at Vancouver’s Jewish Family Services, stressed the particular need to protect children. From a psychological standpoint, around the age of 9, there is nothing worse than what is called a “boundary violation” of a young person inflicted upon him or her by an adult.

“Adults, parents, caregivers … are meant to keep kids safe,” Stamp told the Independent. “And when a child is abused by an adult figure, it breaks the trust that the child has – not only in that person, but it breaks their trust in the world. The world becomes an unsafe place to be.”

Stamp went on to explain that children have simple intellectual lives, in that they expect to be cared for in a way that is warm, nurturing and attentive. “When abuse happens, this is stripped away,” he said. “The impact on the developing psyche is that … I have to be vigilant, watchful, that there could be danger all around me…. And, it could be a teacher, an adult and/or a family member.

“The child puts a lot of focus on being vigilant rather than what they are meant to do, which is to learn through play, through relationships. So this is a very injurious act, probably the most injurious act a child can experience.”

Young people who have had this kind of experience develop all kinds of coping strategies – from withdrawing, to acting out, being aggressive and developing learning problems. These coping mechanisms can last a lifetime.

photo - Dr. Alan Stamp — Dr. Alan Stamp (photo from JFS)

“I’ve had many clients over my life who, when they are in their 60s, 70s or 80s, they tell me they’ve never told anyone this story before … and they launch into a story about being harmed … and that it has had an effect on all the relationships they’ve gone on to have in their lives,” said Stamp. “This is why it’s so injurious to a child. If you’re an adult and you have the horrible misfortune of being assaulted or abused, you have had more life experience to be able to manage it. If abuse happens to a youth, while not a child any more, they’re still at a tremendous disadvantage. For young people, getting help, intervening as soon as possible for an extended period of time, really increases the potential for people to do better later in life.”

Outside of explicit sexual abuse, other forms of abuse include emotional abuse, which can involve behaviour that is berating, condescending, hostile or threatening.

“This can be telling a young person that, if you don’t get a top mark in your class, you’re going to ‘suffer these consequences’ – like withdrawing food, be sent to the basement as punishment, neglect, or any manner of things,” said Stamp.

Another form of abuse is physical. “I’ve seen kids who’ve been hit by cast-iron frying pans on their head,” said Stamp.

“I can tell you what parents are meant to do,” said Stamp. A parent “is meant to provide their child with guidance, affection, warmth, food, shelter and education. And, when a parent or caregiver is withholding things, punishing without a clear reason, disciplining inappropriately for the offence – all of these things are felt as abuse to a child.

“This is different than simply being a strict parent by sticking to boundaries, having guidelines, curfews and insisting that homework or chores are done,” he clarified. “This may be strict, but it’s not abusive. It’s abuse when an act or reaction is an inappropriate response to behaviour. A child may think she or he is being treated unfairly, but it is not necessarily abuse. Abuse is something that will shake up the developmental life of the child and will cause them to look at the world through a different lens. Being a strict or controlling parent isn’t necessarily abuse, but the line can be crossed.”

Financial abuse is more often seen among adults, when someone is in a relationship – a spouse, significant other or adult child, for example – takes control of the other’s bank account. Stalking is a form of psychological abuse, making a person feel threatened and unsafe in their own home, neighbourhood or community. And there is sexual harassment. Violence can be two-sided, where both parties are abusive toward each other, or one-sided.

“Elder abuse is now happening with tremendous frequency, where adult children are abusing their elderly parents,” said Stamp. “This is something that’s almost a pandemic, I think, in many – even North American – societies.”

For people who are in an abusive relationship, it is often difficult to leave an abuser. Violence against women is a form of very fierce oppression, according to Stamp. “It oppresses their spirit. They often will say that they should have left and that they knew they had to, but that they couldn’t – that they felt paralyzed with fear for themselves or of harm coming to them, their child or to other family members … or that they didn’t have the confidence to leave,” he said.

“The psychological or physical abuse of a spouse or partner is very systemic,” he explained. “It affects them in many ways. Often, women will take up to eight years to leave an abusive relationship – that’s a very telling stat. When they do leave, they can look back on it and say that they should have left earlier. What I advise is, ensure that you are safe, that you have a safety plan … that you can get up and out of the house with your child within minutes.”

Stamp advises people in abusive relationships to always include in their escape plan talking to family and friends about the situation, as well as to identify resources in their community, just in case. “There are many resources in the community for women fleeing domestic violence,” he said. “It’s a very scary proposition, but, to get what you want, you have to give something up. You have to fight for yourself and become your own hero in many ways, your own best friend. There is help, there are resources…. Life is not meant to be lived being oppressed, threatened or being fearful for your safety.”

Stamp said it is important to remember that abuse is often passed down in families. If you were raised in a home where your parents yelled at each other, hurt each other, used foul language or were otherwise disrespectful, you have a much greater chance of being abusive yourself.

“Using one’s anger is a way of trying to gain control and to oppress others,” said Stamp. “Abuse is something that tends to be systemic, so it can be familial…. It can go back in time and come back to haunt us in the present.

“I’ve seen and worked with many men who were abusive and I’d say that 85% of those men came from homes where they were abused. So, unless we’re addressing that kind of family situation and the people who use abuse as a way to control or manage themselves and others, we’re going to continue to see this pattern throughout time.”

Stamp said the only way to create change is by means of awareness and education – through campaigns, schools, reporting, and by having community services that can positively intervene.

For more information about the counseling services offered by JFS, visit jfsvancouver.ca or call Stamp at 604-637-3309.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Light against darkness

There is a reason that we wake up every morning to new reports of accusations against men in positions of power. It is not that the sad phenomenon of sexual harassment or violence is new – in fact, many of these accusations relate to incidents decades ago. It is also not because the women who are sharing their experiences of abuse are more courageous now than they were last week or last year.

The reason is that we have reached one of a series of tipping points. As recently as 2014, when a number of allegations of inappropriate and illegal actions by legendary comedian Bill Cosby became public, his accusers were treated as such accusers have routinely been treated: variously as complicit in their victimizations, as liars, as exaggerators, as willing partners who alleged assault only when the “relationship” went sour.

What has changed in this short time is a critical mass of people – women and men, as well as media, employers and the consumers and voters upon whose beneficence the alleged perpetrators have depended – have adopted a new willingness to believe women’s narratives of harassment and assault. This change has happened, in the context of social change, with startling suddenness.

This has created a tipping point of its own. Knowing that they are more likely to be believed than further victimized, a vast number of women have found strength in their numbers and, sensing the social change at hand, have stepped up to share their experiences.

The unprecedented acknowledgements by millions of women that they have been subjected to sexual harassment, assault or worse are taking place not only in Hollywood and Washington. As the #MeToo campaign is demonstrating, many, if not most, women have experienced something on the spectrum of gender-rooted harassment or violence. The incidents have caused unique effects in each instance, on each woman, effects that range from stunted career development and self-image issues to debilitating, lasting psychological trauma. So, put mildly, these are not good news stories.

Yet something good could come from this – indeed, it can’t help but. Our society is finally having an open and frank discussion about these issues. Yet another tipping point is surely upon us. The public perception of appropriate behaviour toward women (and, to extrapolate, respectful behaviour between all people, especially those in positions of vulnerability or subordination) has changed and will continue to change as we navigate this public discourse.

Again, this is not a good news story. In an ideal world, there would have been no such incidents that led us to this point. Yet, like the reconciliation process taking place between indigenous and non-indigenous Canadians, the fact that these things did happen, and that they cannot be undone, demands that a frank public reckoning take place and that we identify ways to hasten a better future. That we are doing so is a good thing.

These are not the sorts of topics we like to reflect on at the holidays, and yet it is something appropriate that this issue is top of the newscast as we approach Chanukah.

This holiday has, among other meanings, the idea of kindling light in the deepest part of winter. Each of the women who has come forward about her experiences has lit a single flame. Together, these lights have become a force against individual and collective darkness.

Keeping children safe

Bracha Goetz reads from one of her recent books to her two grandchildren. (photo from Bracha Goetz)

Many of us were raised to not talk to and be wary of strangers, but the sad fact is that kids are much more likely to be taken advantage of or abused by someone they know and think they can trust. This reality was the driving force behind Bracha Goetz’s book Let’s Stay Safe, which was published in English in 2011, and just came out in Yiddish this summer, as Zai Gezunt.

Born in Queens, N.Y., Goetz graduated from Harvard and started on the road to becoming a psychiatrist before heading to Israel for what was to be one summer. However, while in Israel, she become observant, and ended up staying. There, she did a further 11 years of study, got married and had a family.

Goetz and her family have since moved to Baltimore, where she coordinates a Jewish Big Brother Big Sister (JBBBS) program. As well, she writes children’s books and, to date, has published 36 of them. “They are all spiritual children’s books,” she said. “Originally, I was just writing Jewish children’s books, but now I’m also writing spiritual children’s books for anybody.

“I always wanted to write spiritual books for everyone, but I just recently found a publisher that was interested. It’s not easy. It took a long time, but I’m very happy to do that, because, although these are Jewish concepts, they are also actually universal concepts that I’d love to share with any child.

“I try to write books that I wished I could have read as a child, to answer the spiritual questions I had as a child that weren’t answered,” she continued. “They were answered for me when I was 22, but I try to write about the deepest spiritual concepts on a simple level so any child can understand them. I also try to do it in a joyful, delightful way, so that it can go right into their soul.”

In her role at JBBBS, Goetz witnesses firsthand how sexual abuse affected children. This made her think about how she was teaching her own children about such dangers.

“I realized that I didn’t raise my children with an awareness about it,” she said. “I taught my children about ‘stranger danger,’ but, when they were little, we weren’t as aware as we are today that, with most sexual abuse, the perpetrators are known to the children; that’s how they get access. It’s rare that it’s a stranger. It’s most commonly someone the child already knows. There was no book like this in the Orthodox community and some of the books (in the general community) are not culturally relevant for Orthodox people.”

photo - Let’s Stay Safe, which was published in English in 2011, and just came out in Yiddish this summer, as Zai Gezunt — Let’s Stay Safe, which was published in English in 2011, and just came out in Yiddish this summer, as Zai Gezunt.

Goetz wanted to write a book that would be accepted by the Orthodox Jewish community specifically, as the subject tends to be less discussed in these communities. So, she wrote Let’s Stay Safe, but could not find a publisher. That is, not until Rabbi Yakov Horowitz, dean and founder of Yeshiva Darchei Noam in Monsey, N.Y., agreed to help and got the book accepted by ArtScroll.

“He really worked at it, and it was a really groundbreaking book,” said Goetz. “There was nothing like it out there. We wanted readers to understand that these were additional normative safety rules that needed to be adhered to by children to be safe. Of course, the book is also for parents, because, when parents read it to their children, they also gain an awareness.

“It’s not a good idea to leave the safety responsibility of children up to the children. It’s the parents’ responsibility. But, the parents also need to teach the awareness to their children and remind them about it every so often. As they come upon new circumstances, they need to review the guidelines.”

To take the book a step further, especially in Chassidic communities, Horowitz spearheaded a Yiddish version. “In certain Chassidic communities,” explained Goetz, “their mother tongue is Yiddish. We wanted to reach as many people as possible, so that they would bring this book into their homes and share it with their children. Even the pictures were altered to be more Chassidic-looking. We don’t want anything to stop the Yiddish-speaking population from getting this information.”

One of the concepts Goetz wanted to stress in the book was that children speak with a parent even if somebody touched them inappropriately a long time ago. It is important for these experiences to be told, she said, so that survivors can heal, and also so that the perpetrators cannot continue abusing children.

Another concept she wanted to convey clearly is not to trust someone just because she or he is dressed in Orthodox clothing, as that does not automatically mean they are safe people.

“There’s one picture of an older teenaged boy at a camp,” Goetz said, by way of example. “Many times, it’s a familial problem, where it’s an older brother, an uncle, a step-brother who is the perpetrator. Just this week, I was in a community different than I was usually in, but the people knew I was the author of the book … and, this happens a lot, people come to me with questions. I was outside watching my grandchildren and a mother came by and said, ‘Does this seem right? There’s a teenaged boy and he’s playing with all these little children. He’s playing ball with them. He doesn’t live in this community. And why is he here? He’s Orthodox, as well, just as the children, but he didn’t know any of them. Why was he playing with them?’ I said that’s definitely a red flag.

“This kind of awareness was not typical before the Let’s Stay Safe book was published. The incident illustrates the impact that the book has had. Now, there is a general awareness in our community, because there has been consciousness-raising on the issue of child sexual abuse.”

Books written by Goetz are appropriate for kids ages 2 and up, but are better starting at the ages of 3 or 4.

“This book is often read to 4- to 8-year-olds but, the truth is, older children love reading this book, too,” said Goetz. “And what I find so interesting is that a lot of children tell me it’s their favourite book of mine, which I never expected because it’s all about rules and guidelines. But, they love it. It gives them a sense of safety and security, and children ask for it as their bedtime story.”

Other books written by Goetz touch upon topics like eating healthily (and enjoying it), teaching children sensitivity, and teaching people how to interact more naturally with children with special needs.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.