When a woman escapes from the family home where her partner is violent, she sometimes has to undertake a real obstacle course in order to obtain help for her traumatized children. This is at least often the case for those who have little financial means, faced with government organizations which sometimes pass the buck for not paying. One of them agreed to tell the Duty the obstacles she encountered.
Rose (we are using a fictitious name here to protect her) suffered 10 years of coercive control and rage from her partner. On the day he pleaded guilty and received a 12-month prison sentence, he admitted in court that Rose and the children were not allowed to leave the house. Confined in a one-room home since their birth, the two children under 10 years old were denigrated, threatened and hit by their father – sometimes with fists or belts. Rose’s testimony was reported in the pages of Duty Friday. She fled her home with her children in the fall of 2022.
Her case – which is not unique – shows the inconsistencies and blind spots of the safety net and the “big problems encountered in finding services for children”, underlines Arianne Hopkins, vice-president of the board of directors of the Alliance of second-stage shelters for women and children victims of domestic violence, which has 38 establishments. She met Rose and her children in the course of her duties.
The two little ones “have major after-effects and extreme challenges”, as well as delays in socialization, described Mme Hopkins. At the beginning, “they didn’t speak, didn’t look at the people around them. » Their diagnosis of autism was only recently made, their mother not having had the right to take them to a doctor for this.
As for Rose, she was “in survival mode” when she left. She has since been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. Despite this, Mme Hopkins says she has never seen a mother work so hard for her children, to catch up as much as possible as quickly as possible.
Help first came in several forms within the shelters for women victims of violence where the small family lived. The last one even paid overtime to its workers to help this “polytraumatized family.” »
“Without these women, I don’t know where I would be today,” said Rose, who is trying to navigate a complex system.
A very heavy case
However, the house workers did not feel sufficiently equipped, reports Mme Hopkins, it was so “big” what this family went through. She sees the urgency of finding a psychologist for each of them.
But she quickly hits a wall: when the DPJ is informed of the children’s situation, she maintains that it is the IVAC (Compensation for victims of criminal acts) which must pay the psychologist. And the IVAC says that it is up to the DPJ to pay, relates Arianne Hopkins. It’s absurd, she says: “They work in isolation. »
While they were passing the buck, the children were in dire need of help. The shelter therefore dipped into its “emergency fund.” »
Finally, IVAC confirms that it will pay. Except that “it took months to get a response from them,” laments Rose. And they only pay $90 per session, while the minimum rate is $120: there remains $30 to pay per person, per appointment. That’s $90 for all three of them to have one date. However, Rose has little money: she lives on social assistance while she rebuilds.
Does IVAC agree to pay more when the victim cannot afford it? No. Contacted on this subject, the organization told the Duty that it “does not modulate the amount according to people’s income”.
The clinic has since agreed to charge only $90 per appointment: it absorbs the difference. It’s settled for Rose’s children, but not for everyone else: a long-term solution is needed, underlines Mme Hopkins. “We try to help women who are victims of violence, but children who are also victims of this violence are left to their own devices. »
Learn another life
Although the case of these vulnerable children was reported in December 2022 to the DPJ, the first meeting did not take place until the end of June, seven months later. “We had to fight to get one,” says Mme Hopkins, who adds that the intervention plan came even later. Psychoeducation follow-up was requested for the little ones, “to learn about life other than the one they lived,” she says: they even had to practice using a staircase. The DPJ took months before saying that it was not their job, and finally putting them on a waiting list, relates Arianne Hopkins. “They’re still there. »
The DPJ wanted to quickly enroll them in school full time, even if they had never set foot there. Rose and the workers instead wanted a gradual integration, so as not to cause them undue anxiety, while they get to grips with being with other children. “It’s the law to go to school,” M was toldme Hopkins. Through fighting, they saw their objections bear fruit, and integration took place in stages. The DPJ considers its mandate completed and has closed the file.
But the work is not finished. Children need speech therapy follow-up, but the wait is two years for free appointments in the public network, reports Mme Hopkins. “They are on waiting lists for all services. »
“It’s embarrassing for Quebec not to go there for the children’s component. We cannot wait two years to have services or service evaluations that will allow us to help children with the consequences of violence. »
For Rose, all these steps are a full-time job. Her diary is full of appointments, where she has to drive her children in addition to going back and forth to school: this single task eats up up to three hours of her day. She also had to find another school with more suitable classes.
Today, she says she is regaining courage by focusing on the future of her children. “I hope to see them become good and balanced adults. »
Need help ?
If you are a victim of domestic violence, you can call the SOS domestic violence emergency line at 1 800 363-9010.