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LAST UPDATE | 6 Mar
LAST WEEK SAW the launch of CUAN’s national campaign to stop all forms of domestic, sexual, and gender based-violence. The campaign, entitled “Hardest Stories”, sends a strong message that the stories that are hardest to tell, need to be told.
It includes information and support and presents the stories of fictional victims and survivors of various forms of domestic, sexual, and gender-based violence with an aim to showcase “the humanity behind the statistics”. Those statistics tell their own hard story.
Our national sexual violence survey, carried out by the Central Statistics Office, tells us that 52% of women and 28% of men reported experiencing sexual violence in their lifetime. If it’s not us, we know someone holding one of these hard stories.
The use of the term ‘story’ is interesting in this context. In 2008, scholars in the field of child sexual abuse disclosure (Drauker and Martsolf), used the concept of ‘storying’ to describe the sequence of disclosure.
These scholars presented the storying of disclosure in a series of stages. The first of these is “working up to come out with it”, sharing limited details and appraising the responses. If these responses are favourable or helpful, the person might move to the next stage, “really coming out with it”, sharing more detail with those they feel most comfortable.
These first two stages highlight what other scholars in the field refer to as the ‘balancing act’ that is undertaken whenever someone is considering disclosure. Professor Ramona Alaggia at the University of Toronto, sums this up, saying that “if the risks outweigh the benefits, the disclosure will not occur”. Our responses to disclosure of sexual violence, at all levels, are therefore critical – and those responses that we do provide can send powerful messages to those engaged in this balancing act.
Writing last week in the Irish Independent, Rachel Morrogh (CEO of Dublin Rape Crisis Centre), discussed the ‘largely silent epidemic’ of sexual violence in Ireland. The ‘silent’ aspect here again relating to the ability, choice, capacity, opportunity, or agency to tell one’s story … and the absence of these features in our society. Morrogh discusses the social barriers to disclosure, specifically highlighting victim-blaming, the complex and adversarial nature of our criminal justice system and, in a call to action, asks us if ‘we really want the truth to seem so far out of reach to so many who have experienced’ sexual violence.
Our knowledge of sexual violence, and disclosure in particular, has been developing over the past number of decades. What the research tells us is that disclosure is a life long process, that is fluid and changes over time, it is something that those impacted by abuse and violence must appraise in each new social situation and in each new environment — can I tell my story, is it safe to tell my story, will I be believed? We also know that disclosure to professionals and authorities remains low and that peers and mothers tend to be common recipients.
From the research, we also know what helps people to tell these hard stories. Safe and trusted spaces, empathy and encouragement to say more, a desire to protect others. When disclosing in a professional context, we know that clear information, being kept up to date and knowing what will happen to your story are important to people. Ultimately, an unconditional positive response — being believed — matters. This unfortunately is also where we as a society often fall short.
It is one thing to make a decision about disclosure, engaging in this balancing act, and worrying about being believed – it is quite another to know that many systems are designed in such a way that they can’t say ‘I believe you’. I know from my own research on adults’ experiences of engaging with the child protection system that due to, albeit important, considerations in relation to data protection, due process, and fair procedures our current policies and procedures don’t allow our professionals to say ‘I believe you’.
Tusla’s current Child Abuse Substantiation Procedure (CASP) for example, does just so, stating that the social worker “should not stray into attempting to vindicate the complainant”. Research by Catton and colleagues tells us that “invalidation informs the victim that their interpretation of their own experience is wrong”.
It must however be acknowledged, that in the absence of robust, victim-centric legislation underpinning our child protection system, Tusla has been placed in an unenviable position where their practice has had to adapt to and adopt, the outcome of a plethora of judicial reviews of their own work. Judicial reviews taken by alleged perpetrators – leading essentially to alleged perpetrators designing child protection policy by proxy.
Likewise, our criminal justice system is well known for its adversarial nature, low rates of prosecution for sexual crimes, lower rates of convictions, and when convictions do occur, often lenient sentencing. Last week we also saw the debate regarding the use of counselling notes in rape cases hitting media attention, with the Minister for Justice making a welcome statement that he is ‘not opposed’ to an outright ban on their use in criminal trials — here’s hoping.
So, while we know that many barriers to disclosure can be internal, relating to a person’s experiences of shame, their sense of self-worth, guilt, and the multiple and nuanced facets of trauma, very many other barriers are socially mediated. Rachel Morrogh calls for “individuals, institutions, systems and governments” to stand in the victim’s corner.
I agree, and when designing our systems, policies, procedures, and ultimate practices, we have an incredible opportunity, and responsibility as a society, to send positive messages to those engaging in the balancing act of deciding whether or not to tell their hard story. Adopting victim-centric and trauma-informed approaches, designing systems that take account of the dynamics of abuse and disclosure, and sending the message that hard stories needn’t be hard to tell… are all within our gift.
The launch of the #HardStories campaign is one step in the right direction. Those impacted by domestic, sexual, or gender-based violence must be encouraged, facilitated, and supported to tell their hard stories. But knowing that our responses to disclosure carry risks of re-traumatisation if we don’t get them right, we must take care and ensure that encouragement is underpinned by facilitation and support – lest we create new hard stories.
In welcoming this new campaign by CUAN, let’s hope this is a new departure that continues outward, to influence our systems and, ultimately, our society.
Dr Joe Mooney is an Assistant Professor of Social Work at UCD’s School of Social Policy, Social Work, and Social Justice. He researches issues related to the disclosure of childhood sexual abuse, child welfare, and child protection.
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