Betrayed by my University (church/ sports club/ workplace/ police / the legal system)
The first time I heard the term “institutional betrayal” was when I started working with self-represented litigants.
They described to me how their experience of trying to navigate the legal system alone — having already expended all their available resources on legal help, or never able to afford $350 upwards an hour — felt like a deep betrayal. They had believed that Canada’s justice system was fair. They had thought that judges were public servants who would at least be civil to them (many are not).
Many self-represented litigants look back on their original confidence as naïve, having lost all faith in the legal system. The result is a deep feeling of betrayal. As one put it: “No more fairy tales about having access to a justice system.”
Institutional betrayal is also part of the experience for many of those speaking out about sexual assault and rape. When a complainant reports sexual assault or harassment to police, or to their church, sports club, university or school, or to workplace managers, they do so with trepidation because of the explosive nature of the story they tell. But they also carry a valid expectation that they will be treated empathetically, listened to and that their complaint will be treated as a serious matter and properly investigated. But in so many cases, this is not what happens.
Instead survivors are retraumatized with harsh and disrespectful treatment, what has been described as a “second assault.” Sometimes complainants are accused of lying, sometimes they are told that their experience of sexual violence is “no big deal”, and their complaint is thrown out, or buried.
Innumerable women have had this experience with police (an upcoming podcast tells the story of three such women). Stories of multiple women reporting about a single predator — 20 years ago, 10 years ago, last week — but with no response, are legion. Complaints of sexual assault against gymnastics coach Larry Nassr at Michigan State U were brought forward for decades before anyone properly investigated and acted. The same with Bill Cosby. Same with R. Kelly. Same with….just fill in the blank, we all have an example now. These stories and others untold represent thousands of women bringing forward complaints to trusted places, who are turned away.
Institutional betrayal used to be “head knowledge” for me. Now it is real and I can attest to the personal anguish.
I am dealing on a daily basis with a “defamation” law suit against me by a sexual predator whom my University terminated for misconduct. The university signed a non-disclosure agreement with the predator and thus agreed to hide the truth about this man from future employers. Now that I am speaking out, they are watching me tumble beneath the wheels of a juggernaut called “phony defamation suit”. I am just one of more than twenty women across Canada (and one man) currently being sued for speaking up about sexual predators in our universities.
When I sued the Anglican church over my sexual abuse as a teenager I did not expect an empathetic or supportive response — although admittedly the church’s willingness to play litigation hardball astounded me — and I did not suffer any breach of trust or identity. I was not a church member. But when my colleagues at the law school I have worked at for 25 years — and the university administration which has been only too happy to award me numerous awards and prizes — refuse, with a few honorable exceptions, to even communicate with me over my law suit and ongoing illness, I am staring into the abyss that is institutional betrayal. It is no longer just an expression I hear or read about in academic journals.
And so I understand now, the loss of identity and the depression that comes with the realization that after a lifetime of putting energy into an institution I believed in, that same institution is perfectly happy to watch me struggle with a law suit and an illness (and continue to withhold the truth, evidenced in his letter of termination). I have breached a requirement I was unaware of until now (call me naïve) but apparently is an essential part of being a member of a university community — don’t talk about the bad stuff. Shove it out of sight. Pass-the-trash. And prioritize your own interests above those of your students.
I am writing this from the chemo suite on my day of treatment. I shall see this law suit through and we shall eventually ban NDAs for sexual misconduct. I am on the right side of history — of that I am confident. But my feeling of pride in my university, the connection to others whom I believed shared a commitment to student safety, is a permanent casualty of this experience.
Please, if you know my ongoing work, give no further credit to the University of Windsor. My work is in spite of them, not because of them.
To support Julie in her defamation lawsuit and to end NDAs in sexual misconduct cases, contribute to the GoFundMe campaign here (https://www.gofundme.com/EndNDAs).
