Underdog by Sue-Ann Levy Read Free Book Online Page B

follow-up, I blew up at him, and he blew up at me. We eventually calmed down and reached a truce, and to his credit, from that day forward, he was much gentler and more helpful in his approach to my case. Just before Christmas (and nearly four months after the assault) he contacted me to say the Crown was considering dropping the charges but he’d be recommending against that. I made it clear I would not allow that to happen and thanked him for his vote of confidence.
    The system set up to provide counselling support to victims in crisis wasn’t much better. Aside from the Toronto Police Victim Services, which was only a stopgap measure, I found myself repeatedly pouring out my story to various counselling agencies, only to find out they either had a long waiting list or to not hear back from them again. I never once told any of them I was a journalist, although some probably recognized my name. Throughout, I wondered – if I’d presented as more vulnerable (and perhaps less affluent), would they have found me an opening much faster? I will never know.
    The Barbra Schlifer Commemorative Clinic, about which I’d heard wonderful things, contacted me after three months – long after I started counselling with Dr. Abrams – to tell me a spot had opened up. That was not the only agency to leave me hanging. About two weeks after the assault, I met with the assistant coordinator with the provincial Victim/Witness Assistance Program who was charged with acting as anadvocate as my case proceeded to a plea or to trial. I poured my heart out to her that day, never to hear from her again. It was only when I tried to reach her three months later that I found out she’d been assigned to a new job a few weeks after we met. No one new had been put on my case. I was left to fend for myself over the Christmas holidays, as I wrote my victim impact statement in preparation for a January pre-trial conference on the case.
    The Victim/Witness Assistance Program reluctantly agreed to set up a meeting with the Crown attorney, Chris Punter, in early January after I insisted on it. And I did hear from a new case worker with the provincial courts in March, but it was long after I’d written my own victim impact statement, built up a wonderful support network, and taken significant steps on my journey of self-discovery with Dr. Abrams. By 2005, after seven years as a columnist at City Hall, I was well enough known to police and the courts for my scrappy approach to political reporting. Yet I never asked for, or expected, special treatment. I only wanted to be treated fairly and with respect. But when that didn’t happen, I was more than dogged about getting my day in court. I wanted to be the voice for others in my predicament who did not have a voice, or who felt battered even more by the system. Still, it was only after I met with Mr. Punter and two officers from the Victim/Witness Assistance Program that I started to feel they were taking my case seriously. Although I never indicated who I was, Mr. Punter made reference to my column in the
Toronto Sun,
suggesting to me that it was partly my profile that had helped attach more of a seriousness to the case. I could only imagine how others without a column were treated. He told me my assailant wanted to plead guilty tocommon assault, but given the brazenness of the attack, the Crown would only accept a guilty plea to the original charge of sexual assault. That would get him listed on the national sex offender registry, but it was unlikely he’d get jail time because it was a first offence. Mr. Punter also offered little hope that any judge would include an order in the sentencing subsequently causing my assailant to lose his job. I insisted that I would deliver my victim impact statement in person to try to make whichever judge heard the case understand what it was like to walk regularly by Structube and see my assailant waiting on other women as if nothing had happened. The Crown agreed that