Photo of the author, by Paul Salvatori.

It’s been a year since I took my final police escorted ride to hear Judge William B. Horkins deliver the verdict for the Jian Ghomeshi trial. Lucy, Witness 3 (still under publication ban) and I gathered in the Victim/Witness Assistance Program (VWAP) room accompanied by lawyers and friends to hear the outcome of this much publicized trial. Although I was never invested in the outcome, the suspense was getting to me and everyone else in the room. We hugged with anxious smiles in support of each other. We were crawling to the finish line after publicly getting torn to bits, but there was still more to come.

All of us were ready for the not guilty ruling. What we weren’t prepared for was the ruling that was written with such ignorance around memory and expected behaviour after the trauma of sexual assault and then delivered with condescension. The ruling was read not only to us, but to the entire country. That in itself holds a lot of stress.

Before the trial, my knowledge relating to sexual assault was limited to personal experience, but I was cognizant of the rape culture that was known to show up when reporting. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that many non-activists also have limited understanding of the process and unconsciously buy into the rape myths. Yes, reporting is difficult—and were you drinking?

Never having faced the justice system with a sexual assault complaint like this, I was unaware of the complex challenges facing complainants in police stations and courtrooms every single day. I was consequently thrown into a crash course on Reporting and Testifying at a Sexual Assault Trial 101, which everyone fails. I found out the alarming realities that all the others and I would be facing in a courtroom. A shocking eye opener.

That horrible day was the day I truly decided to fight back. I launched ComingForward.ca. Its launch intentionally coincided with the verdict to hold myself to my intention to help others. I was alone through the Ghomeshi trial and I wanted others going through the process to have a welcoming space to read stories, get resources and support.

A Year In Review

It’s been a year since the ruling, and although there have been many challenges, this is not going to be where my focus rests. Instead, I am choosing to celebrate my accomplishments to keep the momentum going and contribute whatever I can.

Since starting Coming Forward I have:

• had countless survivors of sexual violence share their experiences with me when they had no one to talk to
• learned of the many issues with reporting and testifying against sexual violence with different demographics
• connected survivors to resources
• arranged a meeting in Ottawa with Status of Women
• supported survivors through trial
• participated in numerous protests
• danced in a flash mob for sexual assault
• given many media interviews
• written articles
• given keynote speeches at conferences
• and lastly, met some of the strongest and most inspirational people that I have ever known who have changed my life for the better.

I’ve only just begun.

This trial has opened up many conversations all over the country and is giving attention to many who have been working tirelessly trying to get reform. We now have judges being held to account for their lack of understanding of sexual violence and how it relates to the law. We have journalists revealing the realities of reporting to police across the nation. We even have a sold-out play about sexual violence. Add to that a prime minister that is giving back the funding for these issues that the previous government took away.

The conversations didn’t die out after the trial as we feared. If anything I think they are picking up momentum, speed, and volume But we have only just begun. There is still much to do. Maybe this is the beginning of a new paradigm for how we treat sexual violence.

For our special 50th anniversary issue, Canada’s brightest, boldest, and most rebellious thinkers, doers, and creators share their best big ideas. Through ideas macro and micro, radical and everyday, we present 50 essays, think pieces, and calls to action. Picture: plans for sustainable food systems, radical legislation, revolutionary health care, a greener planet, Indigenous self-government, vibrant cities, safe spaces, peaceful collaboration, and more—we encouraged our writers to dream big, to hope, and to courageously share their ideas and wish lists for our collective better future. Here’s to another 50 years!

ONE BITTER MORNING THIS PAST MARCH I AWOKE TO A Winnipeg Free Press headline that made me want to crawl back into bed: “Indigenous teen gives instructions to city police chief if she goes missing.” This 14 year-old girl who dreams of being a surgeon, lawyer, or police officer lives every day with the awareness that she is four to five times more likely to go missing or be murdered than my non-Indigenous teenage niece living in the same city. When I think about what it must be like to carry around that burden, I find it hard to breathe.

Minimally, a just society is one that defends all its citizens and provides each one with equal rights and protections. So long as the threat of violence is greater in some communities than in others, Canada is failing to meet even this thin conception of justice. And while the prevalence of violence against Indigenous women is disproportionately high, these crimes are endemic across the country, from rural environments to big cities to university campuses and immigrant communities. The national rates of intimate partner and sexual violence against women in Canada—one in three—are consistent with what we see worldwide.

But, for the first time in decades, we have reason to be hopeful. We are living in the midst of a sea change, a shift not quite of tectonic proportions but significant enough to believe in the possibility of real transformation. In a spectacular show of unscripted solidarity, women across the country are speaking out in an act of defiance against prejudicial stereotypes, rape myths, and victim-blaming norms. Voices that were historically silenced are now being heard. The result is a national conversation on the problem of violence against women—one that encouraged Trudeau’s Liberal government to launch a National Inquiry into our missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls. It seems almost possible to imagine that one day soon, finally, we will be able to exhale.

Take the outcome of Canada’s most highly publicized sexual assault trial this century. The not-guilty verdict was predictable enough, following a trial in which the evidential burden needed to clear the hurdle of reasonable doubt was not met. However, it shone a light directly on the inadequacies of the system, and a door opened. The judge’s decision betrayed a serious lack of understanding of how traumatized people behave following a sexual assault, and the manner in which both the police and the Crown shrugged off responsibility for the complainants throughout the trial process helps to explain why fewer than 10 percent of victims bother to report these crimes in the first place. And with a conviction rate of just one in four, we can no longer deny that the criminal justice system is failing women. The collective outcry in the wake of the trial shows that Canadians want better.

The way forward is clear. Alongside a National Inquiry, the Canadian Government needs to undertake a review of the way our criminal justice system handles sexual assault cases. In the meantime, it can start by requiring education on psychological trauma and cultural sensitivity for police officers assigned to these cases and judges who hear these crimes. It must also provide better supports for sexual assault survivors within the system. Here it can follow the lead of the Ontario Government, which has initiated a pilot program that provides free, confidential legal advice to survivors of sexual assault. Government-mandated legal help for sexual assault survivors could go a long way to ensuring that our most vulnerable are not also our least protected.

And Canada can do even better than that. It can punch out this minimal conception of justice as equal rights and protections by caring for its citizens both within and outside of the criminal justice system. To achieve a robust sense of justice the Canadian Government needs to pour real dollars into community-based services that support survivors of violence and help them heal from trauma, regain their financial independence, and rebuild their lives with dignity.

We are witnessing a critical shift in changing cultural attitudes on violence against women, one that has been propelled by the power of women’s voices. As those voices proliferate and we are able to detect patterns in women’s experiences, the credibility of their stories becomes undeniable. We need to do what we can to make sure that those voices are not silenced. That is the Canada I choose.

Image from CBC’s preview of this week’s The Fifth Estate

For years the University of British Columbia (UBC) has told those speaking out against sexual assault to stay silent. “In January 2014, I reported a graduate colleague named Dmitry Mordvinov to the UBC for his unprofessional, sexual harassment behavior I observed,” writes Glynnis Kirchmeier on November 10 in a letter to colleagues, her former students, mentors, and friends. “I was told that the university would not speak with him, that as an alumna (of six weeks) I had no business taking an interest in the matter, and that I should be quiet.” After sharing her story about her report, Kirchmeier learned of other reported assaults and rapes made to a variety of UBC administration members, all involving the same man. Nothing had been done.

Alana Boileau, a resident in the accused’s on-campus housing described the misogynistic atmosphere she lived in (maintained through the alleged  behaviour of Mordvinov’s and others). In an article for Guts Magazine, Boileau talks about men threatening women, verbal and physical bullying directed at women, rape “jokes” (threats), and cases of rape.

“UBC stated that they appreciated my concerns over and over, but ghosted away when I demanded to know a plan or timeline for assessing Mr. Mordvinov’s misconduct,” writes Kirchmeier. “Meanwhile, he continued to travel using UBC’s money, and representing UBC at conferences as a scholar in good standing.”

UBC has since arranged for a Non-Academic Misconduct Committee Hearing. Kirchmeier says her report and the evidence of at least one of his alleged rape victims has been excluded. Three of the 20-plus committee members attended the meeting, which had no staff observer or official minutes taken. Until the UBC president comes to a decision, Mordvinov remains a student in good standing.

Monday November 23 CBC’s The Fifth Estate will lifestream an episode including their investigation into UBC’s response to the reports made against Mordvinov as well as rape culture, and how victims of rape are treated in court. The episode will include Kirchmeier.

A former This intern, Hillary Di Menna is in her second year of the gender and women’s studies program at York University. She also maintains an online feminist resource directory, FIRE- Feminist Internet Resource Exchange.

Illustration by Nick Craine

Fierce feminist Julie Lalonde won’t let backlash stop her from fighting for women’s rights

ATTENTION SEEKING FEMINIST. Extraordinary Franco-Ontarian. Award-winning feminist buzzkill. Both good and bad, Julie Lalonde has heard it all—this is how she knows her feminist action is effective. “The resistance we face to our work is real and palpable,” says Lalonde. “To be a lifelong feminist requires an incredible amount of tenacity.”

It’s this kind of drive that helped Lalonde co-create a coalition that pushed for a university-funded campus sexual assault centre at Carleton, a six-year battle that ended successfully in 2007. “Nobody was talking openly about sexual assault on campus then,” she says. “Not like they are today. We were really alone and pushing up against some huge obstacles.” Lalonde has continued to push through those obstacles since: In 2008, she helped get women and gender studies classes into Ontario’s high school curriculum; in 2011 she launched the Hollaback! movement in Canada; and in 2012 she founded the pro-abortion rights group The Radical Handmaids, a satirical street theatre group that raises awareness on how the government polices
women’s reproductive rights.

I’m not surprised when, right away, Lalonde confesses: “I’m juggling a lot right now.” The 29-year-old is also a freelance writer and has a part-time job supporting rural survivors of sexual violence through the Sexual Assault Support Centre of Ottawa. She regularly discusses sexual violence in Ontario schools and talks feminism through Ottawa radio airwaves on CHUO 89.1FM with her show The Third Wave. It’s not always easy, she says, especially considering the current attacks against outspoken feminists, particularly through social media. “I get a lot of backlash, threats and harassment,” says Lalonde. “But I can get up in the morning and keep going because I have a track record of getting the job done.”

Lalonde attributes a lot of this to her time spent at Carleton while earning her masters in Canadian studies and women’s studies. As the first in her family to attend university, she was expected by her family to use the privilege afforded by a post-secondary education to better the world: “My parents busted their humps to be able to put me through school. I am eternally grateful for their sacrifices and definitely feel the weight of the responsibility that comes with it.”

Lalonde grew up listening to the Spice Girls and Alanis Morissette. In high school the Catholic school dress code served as what Lalonde describes as an awakening to how brutally sexist the rules were, forcing girls to have no option, other than skirts—even in a Northern Ontario climate. It was around this age she read and re-read Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. An ex-nun who, “clearly saw my budding feminism” gave her the dystopian novel. Growing up Catholic, Lalonde
once toyed with the idea of becoming a nun—it was the only career she knew of where she could help better the world. But, “I hated religion and going to church, so quickly realized, being a nun wasn’t it.” Her a-ha! moment arrived during class discussions in her women’s studies classrooms at university.

Today, Lalonde manages the sexual violence prevention campaign, draw-the-line.ca, through which she gives Ontario-wide presentations regarding sexual violence and bystander intervention. Knowing students are not only engaged with the issue of sexual violence but want to know more on how to prevent it, Lalonde hopes this information can be valued in the education system as much as calculus or reading CanLit. In addition to schools, Lalonde also speaks on military bases and even at Parliament Hill.

The activist is passionate about her work and making sure its message is received by the masses, while also making it accessible to everyone. And though she’s faced backlash, her work has also been positively received. In 2013, she was presented with the Governor General’s Award for her work to end sexual violence against women—unaware she was even nominated until after she got a call from her former colleagues at Status of Women to let her know she won. In 2011, she won a Femmy Award, given by peers in the Ottawa Gatineau area, for her work fighting violence against women.

Lalonde isn’t worried about people identifying as feminists. Rather, she encourages people to do feminist work and live by a feminist politic: “bell hooks nailed it when she declared that feminism is for everybody.”

For a long time, many Canadians never wanted to talk about rape. Some still don’t. When the nation finally started talking about it, people believed rape was only executed by strange, unknown men to an unsuspecting women. Some still do. Now we’ve moved on to knowing rape can happen to men, to trans women, to trans men, and to women who know their attacker. But maybe hearing the cases and “knowing” is not the same as understanding.

Thirty years ago, This Magazine discussed the ever controversial meaning of rape. Much has changed, but sometimes I have to squint to spot the difference. From our August 1984 issue by Anne Innis Dagg, “Rape’s Progress”:

Photo of Anne-Marie Roy from the University of Ottawa Student Federation website.

“Locker room boy talk or the perpetuation of rape culture?” Has been the debate since the student body president of the University of Ottawa spoke out about a sexual conversation where she was made the topic.

In a statement released yesterday, March 2, through Facebook Notes Anne-Marie Roy writes, “The fact that the five men could so casually discuss and joke about me and the position students have elected me to hold in such sexually violent ways points to how normalized rape culture, misogyny and sexism are on our campus and in our society.”

On February 10 2014, Roy received an anonymous e-mail with screen captures of a Facebook conversation amongst five men: non-elected university student Bart Tremblay; member of the Student Federation of the University of Ottawa board of directors and VP social for the Science Student Association Alexandre Giroux; VP social for the Criminology Student Association Alex Larochelle; VP social of the Student Federation of the University of Ottawa Pat Marquis and VP social for the Political Science and International Development Association Michel Fournier-Simard.

The Belle Jar has published the screenshots which include comments like, “Someone punish her with their shaft,” and “Well Christ, if you fuck Anne Marie I will definitely buy you a beer.”

Roy told CBC News that after confronting the men, they sent her an apology via e-mail. “While it doesn’t change the inadmissible nature of our comments, we wish to assure you we meant you no harm. Content of our conversation between friends promotes values that have no place in our society and our campus, on top of being unacceptably coarse.”

They made sure to include “between friends.” It was a private conversation, so why the persecution? First, because it was published. We are constantly told to be careful of what we publish on the internet, it is Internet 101. This goes doubly for anyone who opts into public life.

Upon being elected to represent a group of people, one forgoes  “Regular Joe” status and takes on all the responsibilities that come with the position. That is why I am not the mayor of Toronto. If I want to get offensively drunk at the Danforth I can do it without making the news. If I did want the responsibility I would trade that privilege.

Time will tell if the law agrees with this thought process as four of the men are threatening legal action against Roy for speaking out. The fifth conversation participant, Pat Marquis, resigned from his VP position this past weekend: “There was some conversation with some pretty violent, like, some pretty demeaning words. I didn’t say much in that conversation, but I didn’t stop it either.”

Marquis called it a life lesson , and it was refreshing to read the following from him:

There’s a lot of boys’ talk and locker room talk that can seem pretty normal at the time, but then when you actually look back at it, it can be offensive. I would never say that kind of thing out in the public but when it was a private conversation I guess it slipped my mind that that’s really not acceptable.

If what Marquis is saying comes from a sincere place, positive results from Roy standing up are already being shown. Still in an ideal world talking about degrading women wouldn’t happen; it also wouldn’t be the norm. Yet, as the online conversation about has Roy shown us, it’s way too normal  to have such conversations about women, and not see it as wrong—even if the woman is a person’s professional peer or even superior. It has become so normal, we don’t even question it until it’s made into a “big deal.”

A former This intern, Hillary Di Menna writes Gender Block every week and maintains an online feminist resource directory, FIRE- Feminist Internet Resource Exchange.

Candace Simms, executive director of external affairs at Memorial University’s students’ union, told CBC news:

I was pretty appalled… I think it’s pretty disgusting and disrespectful, the way this question was posed to students as part of an assignment… You wonder why this example, in particular, was used—an example of rape and a victim. It’s pretty irresponsible of the instructor and definitely insensitive when you think about how many students this is impacting.

You can see why Simms feels that way, and the Dean of the University, Mark Abrahams, has also expressed that he was “disappointed” in the assignment, and that the question was extremely disrespectful. However Shieh has tried to justify his assignment, telling Maclean’s Magazine that it was a topic that the students would relate to, and that while the wording may be offensive, it was just the sort of language found in the media, not his own.

The intention for my assignment is to try and give a student familiar things for the logical reasoning… Everybody can read it and [decide] whether it’s offensive to them or not. There are some words that are offensive but they’re not by me. They were published in the newspaper, quoted, and I also quoted these types of things.”

Sadly this is just a sign of how ingrained rape culture is in the university environment. Shieh made a mistake, but he also seems to have genuinely felt that rape was a subject that was acceptable to bring up in his class, which just shows how “normal” rape has become.

With phrases like “frape” being used daily, and “lad culture” pushing the idea of scoring by any means, such as the controversial St. Mary’s University “Frosh rape chant” last year (with such charming lyrics as “N is for no consent, U is for underage, G is for Grab that ass”) it’s unfortunately clear why the effects of rape are so underestimated by so many.

Shieh has also offered an apology, saying that while the words weren’t exactly his, he had not considered how offensive the assignment was going to be. He has already given an apology to his class, and offered an alternative assignment. Shieh is currently under investigation by the university. The student union doesn’t feel that he should be punished, but has asked that he undergo sensitivity training instead to avoid a similar situation.

On Monday, three girls pleaded not guilty to pimping out other teenage girls in an

Ontario based court. Together, they’re accused of using a Facebook and Twitter party ruse to first lure and then force young women into a sex trafficking ring. The Crown says the girls were held captive, assaulted, and threatened when the resisted servicing johns. All the girls involved were between 13 and 17-years-old at the time.

What’s most shocking about this story isn’t the sex trafficking part (unfortunately that’s widespread). What’s shocking is the gender role reversal; girls aren’t usually pimps—boys are.

It challenges our collective assumption that men sexually exploit women—an assumption that exists because it’s true in most cases. About 99 percent of sexual assault offenders are men and 90 percent of victims are women. These numbers contribute to gender role norms surrounding sexual assault.

Norms come with a set of predictable attitudes and behaviours, or what psychologists call behavioural scripts. These scripts cue our reactions in particular situations. When someone violates a norm, we have to change up the script. Suddenly, we have to improvise: we must interpret rather than react.

So how do we react to women sexual offenders?

Well, the research is limited and often contradicting. In the girls pimping girls case, the judge is pushing for an adult sentencing. This supports what researchers call the “evil woman thesis.” A study published in Feminist Criminology explains: “It is expected that women will receive more severe punishment for sex offenses because a sex offense reflects a severe departure from gender roles.”

Other studies support the “chivalry hypothesis” where women in general are viewed as needing protection. This explains why women serve less time than men for similar offenses. Even when female sex offenders break social norms, the justice system is reluctant to do the same; it maintains the women-are-victims script.

The problem with this mentality is we risk brushing off sexual offenses as no big deal.

Last week, a 19-year-old man reported being sexually assaulted by four women in their mid-thirties after leaving a Toronto night club. This shook the public’s gender role stereotypes, and instead of adapting our attitudes to the situation, we maintained our gender role scripts. The attitude being: sex with four women is not a violation; it’s every man’s fantasy.

The man was attacked on Twitter and on the comments sections of news sites. People got a kick out of the story. They were tickled, baffled, generally entertained.

But what if we switched the genders in some of these comments? What if @Halo_RX tweeted, “the woman got sexually assaulted by 4 fat white men, how can you not find that hilarious, them boys are #Thirsty”, or if @Skye54 tweeted “HAHAHAHA!! Woman sexually assaulted by 4 men after leaving club”.

Not that women don’t face victim-blaming—they do. But discrimination against male victims is tenfold, especially when the offender is a woman.

And if being assaulted isn’t traumatic enough, it’s this kind of commentary that can hurl someone into a depression and keep them there for years, if not life.

We all remember Amanda Todd’s (very public) case, and just this week another young girl—17-year-old Rehtaeh Parsons—committed suicide a-year-and-a-half after allegedly being raped by four boys who photographed the assault and distributed the images.

Todd, and now Parsons, inspired positive media attention and anti-bullying campaigns. People were outraged, but now with the gender roles reversed, they’re laughing.

Amidst the laughter, some people noted the whole story could very well be a joke, or (as a Toronto Star column suggested) the assault could have been as minor as “a pinch on the bottom.”

Regardless of whether or not it happened or how severe the assault was, men can be victims of sexual assault and women can be offenders. It’s rare, yes, but we should approach it with the same sensitivity we do (or should do) as any other sexual assault.

In a Maclean’s column this week, Amiel proposed how to create an “anything goes sexual society”. Sounds fun, right? Like the sexual liberation. Except this time sexual harassment, rape and child pornography are fair game.

First, she makes the Steubenville rape case out to look like a rite of passage—a coming of age moment for young men and women throughout the ages:

“The Steubenville boys behaved like many drunken 16-year-old males before them when faced with a 16-year-old female drunk as a skunk herself.”

Like Amiel says, this kind of stuff happened all the time during her college years (the early ’60s) at the University of Toronto. It’s normal. So you can imagine Amiel is pissed when the boys actually have to do time for the rape:

“In a normal society, the girl’s mother would have locked her up for a week and all boys present would have been suspended from school and their beloved football team.”

I mean, sure. That’s what my mom did when I broke curfew. So like, getting raped is totally the same thing.

Wait, I don’t think she’s kidding.

More than Amiel’s off-side proposals, I can’t stand her casual tone about rape—talking about the victim “ending up sans clothes”, and teenage boys as “often horrid beings” as if they’re programmed rapists. Downplaying the issue with this boys-will-be-boys, girls-will-be-hoes attitude is what fuels “rape culture”. It’s defeatist and offensive to everyone.

And Amiel’s laissez-fair views on child porn are just as bad. Never mind that that Tom Flanagan was fired for calling child porn a victimless crime, Amiel agrees, and then some. She thinks we need to keep quiet about child pornography and let people watch it if they want. If we start talking about child porn, we might get curious about it then everyone will be sexually exploiting children. Besides, “You cannot end a disease by arresting the infected.”

Wait, what? Yes you can. As Heather Harper from Mississauga wrote in response to Amiel’s column, “It’s called “quarantine” and it has the benefits of allowing the ill to be treated and preventing the infection from spreading.”

To take Tom Flanagan’s quote totally out of context: “It is a real issue of personal liberty, to what extent we put people in jail for doing something in which they do not harm another person.”

That’s just it.  We shouldn’t punish people if they’re not causing anyone harm. But rape, sexual harassment and child porn all cause harm. They’re non-consensual, they trample on people’s rights and are traumatic for the victims—and yes, there are always victims. I feel silly even writing that. Does it really have to be explained? Maybe Amiel would have done well in my English class, but she would have flunked logic and reasoning.

“We have created an anything-goes sexual society: premarital relationships, same-sex and transgendered ones, teen contraception, abortions on government health plans without parental consent, a popular culture celebrating sado-masochism in books that have sold more than 60 million copies. No problem for me.”

Really? No problem? Because I sense otherwise.

“But to compensate, we’ve hung our opprobrium on a few minor vices.”

So to be clear—we need something, anything, in the “sexual landscape” to be outraged about? And since we’re cool with homosexuality and the birth control pill, we direct that contempt at other “minor vices” like people being raped, harassed and exploited?

I can see my English teacher, Ms. Curran, flushed with deep-belly laughter and slapping her knee. A+, Amiel. You really grasped the art of satire. Hell, I almost thought you were serious.

Last spring, Landen Gambill, a student at the University of North Carolina, reported to the university’s “Honor Court” (a board of students and faculty) that she was sexually assaulted. Gambill’s alleged rapist, her ex-boyfriend, was found not guilty. Soon aft

http://www.facebook.com/pages/I-stand-with-Landen-Gambill/

I should note that Gambill has never named her ex-boyfriend whose reputation she’s allegedly compromising. Regardless, she’s now facing expulsion.

There’s more.

Last month, the school’s former assistant dean of students, Melinda Manning, along with four others (including Gambill), filed a complaint with the U.S. Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights. In the complaint, Manning says she was forced to under-report the number of sexual assaults on campus. You know, like, only count the legitimate rapes, right Todd Akins?

So, to re-cap, here’s what boggles my mind:

• Rape victim gets punished for reporting assault
• The Honor Council, a student-run board, determines the verdict of a reported rape

• Administration acknowledges the unacceptably high number of sexual assaults. How? By sweeping a few under the rug.

But what’s most unsettling about all this is that it’s not unique. Abused women (and men, but mostly women) are often at the mercy of institutions and authorities that put blame on the victim.

Look for instance at the February 13 report exposing RCMP’s abuses against aboriginal women in Northern British Columbia. Since the 1960’s woman have been going missing along Highway 16—what’s become known as the Highway of Tears.

Not only did Human Rights Watch find the RCMP poorly investigated the disappearances, women in the area reported extensive physical and sexual abuse by the police who were supposed to be protecting them.

The report is full of photos showing police brutality—the bruised and swollen face of a 17 year old girl; the stitched leg of a 12 year old girl mauled by a police dog as they searched the child for bear mace.

In one testimonial, a woman reported being raped by four RCMP officers who threatened to kill her if she didn’t keep quiet.

But you’ve heard this story already. It’s a common headline: Another woman gang-raped on bus. Except that happened in India. How quick we are to shame “developing” countries for human rights violations while we hush them up at home.

And it’s easy to keep quiet because victims are terrified to come forward. Think about it; why would you report abuse only to endure more of it?

The Human Rights Watch report noted:

“[Researchers] were struck by the fear expressed by women they interviewed. The women’s reactions were comparable to those Human Rights Watch has found in post-conflict or post-transition countries, where security forces have played an integral role in government abuses and enforcement of authoritarian policies.”

So, let’s admit that rape culture—victim-blaming and tolerance surrounding rape—is a real problem in North America. Then let’s obliterate that culture.

In her book, Cunt: A Declaration of Independence, Inga Muscio asks, “What if one out of every three multinational corporation CEO’s were raped every year? Don’t you think that would raise a kind of ruckus?” Yes, Muscio, I do. And ladies, don’t we deserve that same kind of ruckus?