I would like to thank our host, the Algonquin Anishinabe people.
I hope your study incorporates the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's calls to action, notably call to action 36 on culturally relevant services, call to action 41 on addressing the victimization of women and girls and call to action 57 on training for public servants regarding the legacy of residential schools, UNDRIP, treaty rights, indigenous law and aboriginal-Crown relations.
I cannot speak for all victim complainants today, or convey the reality of those facing systemic burdens due to their sexual or gender identity, race, class or disability, but I will do my best to honour their experiences.
It is impossible to express the anguish and stress of a victim-complainant of sexual assault.
How can I properly explain what it means to have your case dropped, to be excluded from proceedings, to have lawyers too busy to talk to you, to know that your abuser will never have a criminal record, or to spend nights crying while trying to interpret the law on your own?
When I asked other victim-complainants what I should say today, these women often used the same words. They want you to know that the legal system is paternalistic, that it is traumatic and that we feel we are being left out.
Victim complainants of sexual offences have the right to request a publication ban under section 486.4 of the Criminal Code. This ban enforces privacy and eliminates any negative consequences of being publicly identified.
Publication bans serve a critical function, and they should remain available to anyone who wants them, but there are considerable issues with respect to how we are informed of our publication bans and how we are given information in order to comply with them and lift them, if we so desire.
On April 7, 2021, during the sentencing of my sexual assault case, I learned of the publication ban on my identity. Immediately, I knew that it was not in my interest. While in court, I asked the prosecutor to lift it, but she didn't know how to. Shortly after, I interjected myself and asked the judge to lift it, but she told me she was no longer functus and couldn't help. Later, I was told by victim services that I would have to bring my own application to the Superior Court and figure it out on my own.
Nobody ever told me about my publication ban. Nobody asked if I wanted it, and nobody explained that if I breached it I could be fined up to $5,000 and spend two years in jail. They said this ban was in my best interest, but I felt trapped.
After significant self-advocacy, the Crown agreed to bring an application to the Superior Court, and I was able to ask for my right to speak on May 14, 2021. This was not a painless task. The offender's attorney opposed my application and tried to delay the hearing by over two months.
Begging for my right to speak was humiliating. The court's dignifying the offender with an opportunity to argue why I should be permanently silenced was infuriating, dehumanizing and traumatizing. I told myself to remember what it felt like to be shattered by the legal system, and that one day—for myself, for others I have met and for those who would come after us—I would try to do something about it.
Not only is the current requirement that the judge supervise a victim-complainant's ability to speak about her own experience paternalistic, but it reinforces a sense of stigma and the notion that victim-complainants only need to be protected rather than represented, informed and helped.
My recommendations are not complicated. Amend section 486.4 of the Criminal Code so that it is no longer an offence for a victim to attribute their own experience. Educate prosecutors and judges on publication bans and our right to choose if we want one. Ensure that prosecutors explain the purpose and scope of a publication ban, and seek our consent before asking for one. Simplify the removal process, making it clear that the offender or accused is not a factor. Provide accessible and multilingual information about publication bans, how to comply with them and how to lift them if we want. Finally, edit the victim impact statement form under subsection 722(4) of the Criminal Code to allow us to opt out of a publication ban at the conclusion of a case without having to justify this decision to the court or the offender.
Of every 1,000 sexual assaults in Canada, only three will result in a conviction, but publication bans remain on the name of those complainants who have not had a finding of guilt in their case. This is a painful burden for those who want to speak out, and it gives the impression that our abusers are protected and actually benefit from unwanted bans.
There is no justice in an unwanted publication ban.
I have done everything expected of me. I reported. I went to court. I have been vocal about this issue and I have come here today with recommendations. I ask that, at minimum, you show persistence in championing this much-needed change and that you are audacious in demanding something better for us.
Thank you.