Issues with the Criminal Justice System
To explore issues with the criminal justice system, participants were asked the following question:
- In the past 3 years, have you encountered a serious legal dispute or problem involving contact with the police by being stopped, accused, charged, detained OR as a victim or witness of a crime?
Eleven of 25 (44 percent) of Central Canada participants and five of 17 (31 percent) Eastern Canada participants responded with what they saw as relevant issues. Most of these discussions revolved around problematic interactions with police. Across all regions, 10 participants reported sexual assaults, physical assaults, or hate crimes directed at them; six noted that they had – rightly or wrongly – been accused of a criminal offence. Regardless of whether they were victims, offenders, or both, most reported troubling interactions with police.
Among the instances of hate crime, the following two stand out:
So, my experience was during Pride. And it wasn’t even near any of the events or whatever. I was hanging out with a couple of friends and I went to a store to grab smokes and when I left my friend’s building, 7 black guys left the building as well and swarmed me… And were uttering threats and so on and so forth (CC#8).
Me and a friend were walking, we’re both – I’m like I said gender fluid and I dress how I dress, I have my own style. I have a partner who is transgender male, we were just walking to a park when we suddenly literally heard, excuse my language, but hey faggot, over my right shoulder yelled aggressively and as I turn to look, whack, smacked hard in the face, both of us knocked to the ground, kicked, punched, called all sorts of profanities. Luckily we got back to our feet and fought back enough for a neighbour to hear (EC#8).
It is evident, either from context (Pride) or visibility, that both cases constitute hate crimes, that is, violence or threats of violence targeting individuals because of their perceived sexual orientation. However, in other cases of violence the motive is less clear. The following case appears to be primarily gender-based, with no sign that the participant’s lesbian identity shaped the action:
The beginning of January this year, I was the victim of a sexual assault. It was at my home and a food delivery person who I knew and had a friendly relationship with tried to kiss me on the cheek and grope my breast, tried to kiss me on the mouth, did kiss me on the cheek, and grope my breast. So, I kind of panicked a bit, froze up and said just the check please and then he left. And I was very shaken up and I didn’t know if that counted as an assault or something but I discussed with my partner, my girlfriend and with some friends who supported me in going to the police, which I did two days after the assault (EC#1).
The final example suggests an abuse of power at a prison:
I spent the last 5 years in a federal prison for women. And while inside I was sexually assaulted by a guard. And I came forward and actually before it happened I came forward about it happening to someone else that I knew about, and apparently there were allegations as far back as 2012 of this happening (EC#6).
The latter case is one of the few reported incidents that, from the participant’s perspective, had a positive outcome. Under the tutelage of a national advocacy organization, that participant had become a prison advocate while imprisoned and was informed enough to document the incident. When they reported it to prison authorities, the participant felt that “they actually took me seriously” (EC#3). The officer was charged and is currently engaged in both criminal and civil proceedings. Moreover, in the end, the participant was also successful in persuading nine other women to come forward about how they were victimized.
Three other participants on the other side of the equation – those accused of criminal offences – also pointed to what they saw as positive resolutions of their engagement with the criminal justice system. One especially appreciated legal aid being available:
Thank God for the legal aid program. I got access to them twice. Once for the mischief charge and then second time, hilariously enough, for my assault with my partner. And yeah, I got the same legal aid lawyer both times, so I’m super thankful for that. Yeah, there could be a lot better information on how to access that program, because if I didn’t know about it from my family, like there’s no, there’s not really, a lot of it out east is just word of mouth. All the information or posted or being shared is at least 10 years old (EC#6).
Here, legal aid was not necessarily able to ensure a not guilty verdict; rather, the participant felt supported as they navigated the system. One ironic case highlights the ways in which programs available as a consequence of participants’ engagement with the justice system significantly affected their life. They suggested that their arrest represented “rock bottom” for them and was an incentive to enter a drug treatment program – which was ultimately very successful. Subsequent programming was also helpful:
Successfully completing the government programs that they wanted me to were beneficial to my mental health. The process of going through it wasn’t super dope at the time, that being said, the process of probation, having someone that I have to refer to every couple of months and no, I’m actually kind of getting better, don’t worry. That was nice (EC#13).
Some participants thus experienced “successes” due to involvement with the criminal justice system. Most of their evaluations, however, were less positive. One issue they raised was access to legal representation. A Central Canada participant described being wrongly arrested for assault and mistreated by arresting officers. Three years later, they are still unable to find a lawyer willing to represent them in pursuing a case against the police service, saying “the problem with that is that no one wants to touch anything that has to do with police (CC#24). Two others discussed difficulties with the legal aid attorney assigned to them. The first was leery of trusting themselves to a very inexperienced lawyer:
My lawyer wasn’t actually a lawyer yet. He wasn’t granted his license until, get this, February 14th. But this all happened in January. So the lawyer I was given wasn’t even really a lawyer yet. So I was in shock…. I went in and I said, I don’t mean any disrespect to you dude, but this is my life we’re talking about. And I don’t think that you’re qualified to take this on. I think I need a more experienced lawyer (EC#5).
Fortunately, a second more seasoned attorney was brought in to assist, but only because the participant had been confident enough to make demands. The second participant suggested that their lawyer lacked experience, or perhaps support for them:
At the beginning my advocate was saying it may be better if you say that you’re guilty because you can just give $100 or something like that and you will not have anything else. And I was no, I’m not guilty. I’m not going to say I’m guilty. And after that when she saw the cameras she was like, oh you are totally right. Yeah you’re right to say, to defend yourself (CC#17).
Participants’ most common complaint by far about their experiences with the criminal justice system was their negative interactions with police. Twelve of the 17 Eastern Canada participants who engaged with police – as victims or accused – reported that they were treated poorly. Participants who had been victims of threats or violence felt that police had not taken their experiences seriously. Several participants faced difficulties getting police to respond at all. One participant had been sexually assaulted, possibly after being drugged by the perpetrator. When they reported it to police, the responding officer dismissed the complaint, suggesting that the participant had just been drunk. The participant did not pursue it further until a similar incident occurred in the same community. At that point, the participant contacted two different western Ontario police services, but:
[N]either of them wanted to take my report. I literally called them four or five times and they kept putting me back and forth between the two of them and neither of them wanted to report it. So eventually I just kind of gave up. I tried contacting victim services but they weren’t really able to help me. And I just kind of gave up after that. I don’t want to but it just didn’t feel like anyone was taking me seriously. So basically I just – I don’t know. It felt like they didn’t have much interest in reporting what I had to say, if that makes any sense (CC#15).
Another participant stated four times in the course of the interview that police did not seem interested in responding to their many calls for support:
I just explained to whomever answered what had happened and she told me that they couldn’t send anybody out to actually take a statement from us. And her demeanor was one of disinterest, especially I mean, it was at first until I told her why we were attacked, and then it was yeah, we can’t send anybody out (EC#8).
Another participant, who had been swarmed by a group of men uttering threats, described a similar response. They reported calling police three times as the group of men continued to harass them. After the third call, police arrived an hour and a half later. But, when they did, “they basically told me that it was a little name calling and that there’s nothing they can do and that they have more important things to do. That I’m wasting their time and I’m wasting 911’s time” (CC#8). When police left, the group converged on the participant yet again, resulting in a fourth call to police. Again, after another hour and a half wait, police arrived, but:
[I]t was like I was the one that was in trouble, that I was the one that was starting everything and causing the threats and that… (the officer) started to be like, I don’t care that your little soiree or whatever, it’s just a little name calling. I said, as the phone was still on because of the 911 call, if this does not give me the right to call you a pig, then it’s just a little name calling. Apparently the sergeant heard the call and then the sergeant ended up coming and again the sergeant was like the cops were making me out to be the bad person, like I was the one wasting everybody’s time and their time and 911’s time and I’m like, it’s funny, I’m getting threatened here and you’re not doing anything (CC#8).
This case was further complicated by the way participants were made to feel as if they had done something wrong. Other participants also noted this. One was very explicit about this tendency. They had called police to complain about a neighbour with a history of harassing them. However, when police arrived, officers became aggressive with the participant, who observed:
Well it’s just the police and how they run things and how they check things. Stuff like that. If you make a report you’re automatically looked at like you’re the guilty party instead of the other person. Just because you’re Métis. Being born Indigenous is a crime, didn’t you know that? It does [impact treatment by police], because they work on stereotypes and they work on profiling. So as soon as they come to your house, even if you’re the one making the call for the gay bashing or whatever, right away, automatically, and if you have a past, with a record, and you don’t have a pardon, you’re toast. They don’t even look at you (CC#18).
A final example of negative police interactions takes this pattern to the next level. The participant approached the police service to discuss some unspecified issues that they found challenging. The immediate response of the officer was “oh we don’t know why it’s always the same person, people who complain” and then refused to take the report, ordering them to leave the station. The participant described what followed:
So I went out of the police station and on this police station they have like a phone that you can call if you want to reach the police, so I picked up the phone to just call and resolve what just happened to me. And with that, another policeman came and he told me to go outside. He said, we told you to go out. So I just like asked the policeman what is his name and when I asked him that, he arrested me and he charged – at the beginning it was like if I beat a policeman?… Yeah, assault. He accused me of assault but after that they changed the charge to obstruction in the work of policeman or something like that (CC#17).
While this case resulted in charges being laid in response to the participant questioning police inaction, one participant reported a history of police persecution of the queer community:
Also Pride parades for us afterwards there were a lot of problems regarding the police. We got busted many times and they would put us all in a box and take us all away and we were all let go but usually it was the next day. No charges, no nothing, just come and get us and put us in a cell and then let us go the next day, with no explanation, no nothing. One time, all us volunteers for the Pride parade were at a house party in the back yard, it was for all the volunteers. And the house is full, the back yard is full. I stepped out to the laneway and the police came into the laneway and rounded us up (EC#5).
The consequences of participants’ difficulties range from emotional effects to changes in attitude. Those experiencing violence also commonly feel fear, anxiety, and trauma, as the following examples highlight:
Fear. Like I said, I haven’t been touched by violence, by like queer-phobic violence in a very long time. And it just brought back a lot of tough stuff that I had thought I had dealt with. It made things – I don’t walk through that park anymore and in fact, I find myself now, I don’t really walk through any park at night anymore (EC#8).
I tried suicide. I almost died. I actually died three times. And they brought me back. That’s what it did to me. It destroyed me…. (EC#4)
Also not surprising is the fact that these negative interactions reinforce hostility towards and distrust of the police:
A lot of the anger towards police that had been buried for a long time because I realized that in 21 years nothing has changed (EC#8).
Honestly, I’m terrified of the cops. If I hear a siren I go into panic mode. And I have to walk back my anxiety (EC#4).
As in other contexts, the negative outcomes of engaging with the criminal justice system can have far-reaching effects on participants’ economic stability. Publicly identifying either victims or offenders can out people who would rather not have their sexual orientation known. And this can have serious consequences, as in the following case:
I lost my job as a [job title] and ultimately it was blabbed all over the papers that we were lesbians and our pictures were in the paper and no matter where I went to try and get a job I couldn’t. I would try to get a job and they’d be like, what about your criminal record? Because she never had a criminal record or nothing before that and now she does (EC#4).
Of course, this is compounded by the labelling attached, not only to convicted criminals, but even to those who have been wrongfully accused:
So that’s fine, I’m acquitted, but what about the rest of my life? My security clearance had been taken away. I could never work in my field again. I could never work for the government again. I went from $80,000 approximately, to $800 a month on CPP. And I will never work again in my field. It has gotten so bad that anyone in, especially in [Redacted], anyone who sees your profile and you have, even if you were acquitted, you’re not working for them, you’re not going to be accepted (CC#24).
- Date modified: