Friday, 11 October 2013

From the Horse's Mouth


Tina Hattem’s research in “Highlights from a Preliminary Study of Police Classification of Sexual Assault Cases as Unfounded" detailing the failure of police officers in investigating sexual assaults was disconcertedly eye-opening. While police culture is highly politicized, the treatment of sexual assault cases by the police surprised me.

My dad was a police officer with the EPS for 13 years so I grew up with a huge respect for the police force. I saw how hard my dad worked, how hard his friends and partners worked, to make the city a safer place. I saw how frustrated he was when re-offenders were being released again and again. For this reason, I thought that the system was flawed but people would be there for you, that the system would eventually be on your side, that those who were called to serve and protect would do just that.

This article disputed everything I had previously understood, tainting the institutions I had trusted, making their failures indisputably real. Police officers and other justice workers’ responsibility to survivors goes beyond any skills they could acquire in a classroom; it requires a systematic shift enabling empathy, trust and mutual respect to harbour itself both in the mandate of the justice system and within the personnel that enact its justice each day.

This article and this week’s discussion made me realize that the system was more than flawed, it was fucked and it fucked victims instead of helping them.

“This concern [the handling of sexual assault cases] is supported by research with sexual assault survivors, who report that their experiences with the police and within the courts tend to make them feel like they are being dehumanized, blamed and disbelieved” (Hattem). This absolutely shattered me because the policing system that I had grown to respect and admire was an illusion; I had projected my dad’s character onto all police officers and the justice system in general, wanting to believe that they were all there to protect me, that they would protect me.

The entrenched disposition of suspicion makes me feel so betrayed because if I can’t believe in the system that was created to protect me, what can I believe in?

Works Cited

Hattem, Tina. "Highlights from a Preliminary Study of Police Classification of Sexual Assault Cases as Unfounded." Department of Justice. Government of Canada, 30 Apr. 2013. Web. 11 Oct. 2013. <http://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/rp-pr/jr/jr14/p9.html>.

 

 

 

2 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I had a very similar experience; I have an aunt and a few uncles are in the RCMP, and I have always held them in high esteem. They always seemed so badass; so many movies portraying police officers to be the “good guys” who will stop at nothing to ensure that the “bad guy” is caught added into that view as well. The corrupt, blaming cops were in other countries, not Canada. The growth of social media granted us more access to facts/incidences of police brutality/etc., however I always attributed those cases to the individual police officers, not the system as a whole. I had complete confidence that if anything happened to me, I would be taken care of.
    Volunteering at the Sexual Assault Centre at the UofA was one of the first times that my faith in the system itself started to wane. In the training we go through, we spend a large amount of time studying reporting options and the reporting process. When I am with a client who wants to report, I am taught how to gently bring up the realities of the reporting process. I need to address what exactly he/she wants to get out of the reporting process. If he/she is looking for a conviction or for the perpetrator to get in trouble, I need to start the really disheartening conversation that in most cases, as few survivors will get the rape kit done or there are any witnesses, they won’t achieve that end. I need to go over the reporting process, gently warning them of the invasive and inherently self-blaming questions they will be asked (what were you wearing? Why would you accept a drink from a stranger? Why were you walking there alone at night?). I would NEVER stop anyone from reporting – but I would ensure that he/she understood the process, and that while some people have an okay reporting experience rarely does anyone have a great reporting experience.
    Having that conversation is always difficult, and of course I try to support him/her as much as I can in making the decision. However, simply the fact that I need to discuss with the survivor how harmful and traumatizing the reporting process can be, is most likely to be, drains the faith I have in the system as a whole.

    ReplyDelete