:
I call this meeting to order.
Welcome to meeting number 45 of the House of Commons Standing Committee on Veterans Affairs.
Today's study is on the experience of women veterans.
[English]
Today's meeting is a hybrid meeting. All of our witnesses are here in person with us today. We have one member online.
Just for the sake of our witnesses, you might see some questions from one of the members online. Otherwise, most folks are here in the room.
Before we get started, I want to let everyone know that obviously we will probably be dealing with a bit of difficult subject matter, particularly for our witnesses today. I would remind everybody to make sure you show some compassion for our witnesses. They are going to be sharing some very difficult experiences, in some cases, that they've gone through. Please, show some compassion for them.
I want to remind everybody—our witnesses, members, everyone in the room and those who are with us online—that if anything you hear today causes you some distress, including, for our witnesses, the things you're sharing, if there's help that you need from this committee, we want to make sure those resources are available to anyone who needs them. If you feel there's a need for those resources, please see our clerk. She will help to ensure that you get the resources you need.
One other thing I want to let everyone know before we get started is that our witnesses have asked that, given the subject matter we're dealing with, following the opening remarks and the first round of questioning, we might take just a short break to allow our witnesses that opportunity. If that's okay with members, that's what we intend to do. We'll make it fairly short, but I think we have some time.
Ms. Blaney, you have your hand up.
:
As you mentioned, it can be difficult to share the experiences that some of our witnesses may be sharing with us today. We have a two-hour meeting today, and we have the time for it. We generally have one-hour panels, therefore we have five minutes for each witness. In this case.... Let's just put it this way: I will be flexible and understanding of the need, if you're sharing with us something that is a very personal experience, for a little extra time. I don't think you're going to find me to be very strict in that regard today. I think that's probably a good guide for us in this committee during this study, particularly since we have a two-hour session.
Thank you for raising that, Ms. Blaney.
Yes, I will be quite lenient with our witnesses, but probably slightly less so with you as committee members. However, I also want to let the witnesses know that if a committee member has asked you a question, I'm going to do my best to try to give you the time you need to answer it, understanding that we have to respect that every party needs to have an equal opportunity to share. If I signal that it is near the end of time, I just ask that you try to wrap it up as quickly as you can.
Thank you. Let me now introduce our witnesses today.
We have with us, as individuals, Donna Riguidel, Major (Retired) and Christine Wood, who is a veterans advocate.
With the LGBT Purge Fund, we have Michelle Douglas, executive director.
We also have with us the founder of Servicewomen’s Salute Canada, Rosemary Park, Lieutenant-Commander (Retired).
We will go nearly in that order. I'm going to allow Ms. Wood the opportunity to wrap up.
We'll start with you, Ms. Riguidel, and you have five minutes or so to give us your opening remarks.
I wrestled with what to say here today, given this rare opportunity. I know that many of you, either through other testimony or through the media, have heard stories about assault, abuse and other mistreatment at the hands of a system that was not ready for women in 1988, but still is not ready today, in 2023. Do I talk about my first few years—I joined at 17—assaulted and harassed, culminating in one of my instructors, who eventually rose to the rank of colonel, trying to order me to give him a blow job; how the men broke the lights in the hotel room where we had our course party after basic training, so we wouldn't know who was touching us and were trapped in the dark; my first night at my unit, unsure and anxious, when I was pulled aside and handed a love letter from my course officer from basic training; or how I tried to gut it out because the military would pay for my future even after I was first diagnosed with PTSD, on meds to help me sleep, and raped by my then boyfriend, a higher-ranked unit member?
I will tell a story that until a few months ago was under a publication ban.
When I was 21, I went on the last course I would ever take as an NCM. It was in Kingston, and Kingston had just introduced co-ed barracks. From day one, I did not feel good about this course. The first morning, at PT, my sergeant, who was in the position of course warrant, ordered me to run up front with him.
Linemen were scaling the outside of the building to get into our room when we were sleeping at night. I had to buy new underwear about halfway through the first week, because somebody had stolen all of mine out of the dryer.
I was struggling. The previous year, I had been in a car accident. A friend of mine died in my arms. The first time my new boyfriend at that point and I had sex, I was so drunk I couldn't stand, let alone consent.
I went to the MIR and requested to be RTU'd. They gave me a day of bedrest and told me to come back the next day. My sergeant came to my room to talk to me about going home. I told him everything: all my struggles, my PTSD, the meds that I hated taking—all of it. He was kind and compassionate and encouraged me to finish the training. He said that it was important to my career. I was comforted to know he cared.
My roommates came in after dismissal that day, all excited, and said that the sergeant had ordered them to take me out that night to help me relax. I thought, what's the harm? The whole course came out. We all drank a lot. It was a good time. My sergeant even showed up at the end of the night and told everybody that he would see me back safely. I don't remember the reason he gave for having to go to his room first; I just remember wanting to sleep as he took off some of my clothes. I was so tired, and I kept closing my eyes. I said I wanted to leave and he just held me down.
Again, this was somebody who not only had my career in his hands, but many times, my life. I was so tired and I said I wanted to leave. I was half naked when I told him that I couldn't do this anyway; I was on my period. He said he didn't believe me but he would check, and if I was, he would let me go. I squeezed my eyes shut so that he could put his fingers inside of me—tampon and blood. He let me go.
The next day I realized that I couldn't claim to be too stressed to leave. I was trapped. I had to explain that I was staying, to that very sergeant. He smiled at me and said that I looked under the weather, reminded me to eat a well-balanced breakfast, and then he winked at me. I had another three weeks on course with that person.
When I got home, I asked for a leave of absence. I needed to process.... I knew that I couldn't come in to work anymore and see everybody in uniform; it was just too hard. I was told by my chief clerk to come in to sign the paperwork. My chief clerk was a female. She took me aside and told me that I was a slut, a whore and an administrative burden, and I needed to get out before they threw me out. I quit the CAF that January, in 1997.
I came back in April 2006. I had a few great years, and then more assaults, harassment and abuse. Not a day passes when I haven't seen the faces of men and women who used my kindness, my compassion and often my own pain to abuse and harm me.
What can we change about that? Since 2014, I've changed my focus to training and education around supporting survivors of sexual assault.
The single biggest indicator that somebody will suffer long-term effects is the support they receive at first disclosure of the incident. It's not who did it, and it's not the injuries they receive. It's the first time they have the courage to say that something terrible happened to them. How they are responded to will set the stage for how they recover.
In 2014, there was no mandatory training on how to support somebody disclosing military sexual trauma. There still isn't. Being raped should not cost you your career.
My daughter and I left her abusive dad, finally, in 2017. She carries scars on her soul that I would have been able to prevent if I wasn't so hobbled by my own pain. One of the last times I saw him, he said I should have told him I had been raped, because he never would have married me if he'd known I was broken.
In spring 2021, four female survivors got together and created a group. We call ourselves the Survivor Perspectives Consulting Group. In my final year in uniform, I trained almost 2,000 members of the CAF on how to support those who are victimized and how to recognize the earlier roots of that behaviour.
We've taught brand new recruits up to three-star generals. In our post-training survey, 83% of those trained say that they now know how to support someone. So far, 98% have said that this should be CAF-wide.
In my last year in uniform, I received a CDS commendation for creating this program, and I got a letter from Lieutenant-General Carignan, saying that the CAF leadership sees no value in institutionalizing this training. None of the leadership from CPCC or the CDS's office has taken this training.
I was medically released due to PTSD from MST on March 30, 2022.
Our group has grown and continues to bring this training package to everyone we can, using our education, our skills and, yes, our pain to hopefully bring change to the CAF. We have met obstacle after obstacle. We don't understand why the leadership would not be interested in a solution that is obviously resonating. To date we have trained over 3,000 members, and we continue to grow. Looking ahead, we have applied for the veterans wellness grant and are hopeful.
What is the ask? We need more women-centred programming. OSISS, Soldier On and Wounded Warriors are not yet made for us. They occasionally try to host bolt-on programs and pop-ups, but they don't have retreats or treatment dedicated to women veterans. Even small things like a benefit to join a facility that offers female-only areas for working out would be a huge stride. Leadership in all areas also must stop working with service providers with no qualifications or expertise to work in these areas, because people are being hurt.
As a service provider, I'd also say that the RFP process should prioritize veteran-owned enterprises. Right now, when you're medically released from the CAF, there are two avenues that you are encouraged to take. One is to be employed as soon as possible. I was told flat out when I was released that I was heavily employable. I have 16 years as a public affairs officer in the CAF, but I don't want to go back to the career in which I was assaulted and abused. My only other option, really, is to go for education and training for about two years and hopefully go into something else.
I would like to see some of that money that's earmarked for training to also be allowed to be accessed by people who have started their own businesses as entrepreneurs. The money is already there. It's just a matter of changing the way we can access it. In the U.S. a certain percentage of contracts each year are required to go to veteran-owned businesses.
Our group is trying very hard to have an empowering and validating career after the uniform. We have built a powerful tool. Our training changes minds. We've seen it over 3,000 times. We're determined to make the CAF, the RCMP, the government and Canada stronger and more inclusive places. We don't understand why the CAF seems so intent on quashing our efforts, but we persist, because standing up to them is not new to us. We have looked into the eyes of men and women who have raped us, harassed us and beat us down. We're bent but not broken, and we're not going anywhere.
Thank you.
:
Good afternoon, Chair and members of the committee. Thank you very much for inviting me to be here today.
I'd like to start by giving you a bit of background.
I'm a veteran. I'm also a survivor of Canada's LGBT purge.
The LGBT purge is described by the Canadian Museum for Human Rights as one of “the longest-running and largest-scale violation[s] of the human rights of any workforce in Canadian history”. I would also add, “And hardly anyone knows about it.”
We estimate that between the 1950s and the 1990s, about 9,000 people—2SLGBTQ people in the Canadian military, the RCMP and the federal public service—saw their careers stymied or terminated because their sexual orientation or gender identity was considered a threat to the country they had chosen to serve. During the Cold War and well beyond, this discriminatory process was often justified on the grounds of national security risk, given their—our, my—purported character weakness and susceptibility to blackmail by foreign agents, despite lack of any evidence that such coercion had ever occurred.
The shattered lives and careers caused by the purge resulted in psychological trauma, material hardships, financial ruin, self-harm and suicide. I understand a lot about this shameful period in Canadian history, because I was purged from the military in 1989.
I joined the Canadian Armed Forces in 1986. I was so honoured and proud to serve. I wanted to be a police officer within the military, and I did just that, graduating at the top of my class within the military police branch. I had my sworn badge and also my commission as a young second lieutenant, but one day I was posted to the special investigations unit, the very unit within the military police where I was posted on my first posting because I had graduated at the top of the class, and they wanted this as an honour. This unit was devoted to conducting the most serious criminal investigations, including sabotage, subversion, espionage and allegations of homosexuality.
Shortly after I joined this special investigation unit, my boss called me into his office. He told me we were going for an investigative trip up to Ottawa from CFB Toronto. I followed him in an undercover K-car. I was dressed in civilian clothes. Just as we got out to the Toronto airport, he pulled into a hotel along the airport strip, and I was interrogated there about my sexual orientation for the next two days. This was just the start of my interrogation about my sexual orientation.
Later, I was flown by the police to Ottawa to be polygraphed about my sexual orientation. While I was seated, strapped to the polygraph chair, I admitted that I had fallen in love with a woman. I later found out that the questions they intended to ask me had I proceeded with that included this very offensive opening question: “Had I ever licked the private parts of another woman?” I'm so grateful today that they didn't ask me that question. My experience left me humiliated and shamed. Others experienced similar questions, deeply sexualized in their nature.
I was also forced to come out to my family. I was given 24 hours to do so or the police would be sent to do it for me. Ultimately, despite graduating at the top of every military course I ever took, I was fired.
These experiences have had a lifelong effect on me and the thousands of others who went through them. On my release records are these words: “not advantageously employable due to homosexuality”. I sued the military for this treatment, and in 1992 it was my legal challenge that formally ended the policy of discrimination against 2SLGBTQI people serving their country in the Canadian Armed Forces.
Well, I served for only about three years, but I am now a veteran, and it's been my life's work for 30 years to try, along with many others, to bring some justice to these forgotten survivors and veterans. A class action lawsuit in 2018 led to a settlement for more than 700 people who were found and located and could get some justice. Even justice delayed sometimes is still justice.
Today I work full time to pursue reconciliation and memorialization efforts arising from this period of history. I work closely with and see the impact, particularly on women who are purge survivors. They are veterans, and they are hurting. In fact, most of the people we see have very unique and special needs as veterans.
The trust was shattered by their employer and their country. Many experienced sexualized violence. We also know that many who are part of the purge class action were also part of the military sexual trauma class action lawsuit.
Think about the shame and the deep traumatization at the hands of the government. We owe these special veterans a duty of care, and that goes beyond legal settlements. The establishment of the Office of Women and LGBTQ2 Veterans at Veterans Affairs has been a really good start.
We need some help in finding these veterans. Sometimes the shame drove them back into the closet. We know people took their own lives. We know the shame was so deep that many just have never surfaced again, but we want to try to find them because we think we can help them. Needs that cannot be met by other social service agencies—because they simply don't know what happened—can be met by organizations that are tailored, including this Office of Women and LGBTQ2 Veterans.
Education is a huge part of this. We can't have someone calling in for the first time to finally reach out and get some help from VAC and then be told it's impossible to imagine a story like that would ever happen in Canada. Then they get rejected again, and that's the last we ever see of these people.
Transwomen veterans are especially vulnerable. We have to be there for them. They can't be ignored, and we must—as we do with all veterans—honour, support and respect them. We're seeing an aging group of survivors. Some are angry. They are just so unsure of whom they can trust.
We're also seeing rising levels of addiction, senior squalor, homelessness, and precarious home lives. This, of course, is recognizable as the impact of trauma, pain and the betrayal of the government.
I'm here to talk, hopefully, about the elimination of hurdles and barriers to enable these veterans to access the services they need, because we owe them nothing less. I would be happy to speak further with you about these incredible Canadian women and all purge survivors, and about how the committee might address their needs.
My final words will be to these incredible survivors, women who have served their country so heroically, and to my colleague, Lieutenant-Colonel Cathy Potts, who has also joined me here today.
Mr. Chair, thank you.
:
Good afternoon, Mr. Chair, members of the committee and colleagues.
Thank you for this opportunity to appear as a witness for this committee's study on the experience of women veterans. I understand this is the first study of women veterans by a House of Commons Standing Committee on Veterans Affairs. If so, I say congratulations and thank you.
I applaud your undertaking this large assignment. I don't think you can cast the net any wider in the scope of issues and experiences this study seeks to understand about what it means for women to choose to serve Canada.
In my presentation today, in the section entitled “recruitment and life in the Forces”, I'd like to respectfully ask and add a parallel question. What does it mean for Canada for women to choose to serve Canada?
What extraordinary talent base do servicewomen represent and offer as a unique cohort for Canada's democracy, defence and security, civil society and economic development, and now environmental adaptation strategic requirements?
Conversely, what happens as a result of the Canadian Armed Forces failing to assess and seize this opportunity for the past 55 years, and repeatedly choosing to not have a dedicated strategic plan valuing and optimizing the inclusion of servicewomen for the past 55 years?
This speaks volumes. In my opinion, it is being represented in witness testimony before you.
On December 13, 2021, the official apologies by the , the deputy minister and the chief of the defence staff following the $850-million DND and CAF sexual misconduct class action lawsuit did not include the words “servicewomen”, “servicewoman”, “male” or “female” once. “LGBTQ” was there, yes, but “women” was not there once.
What are they spending $850 million on? I'm sorry. It's minus $50 million for men.
We are an invisible force. What a waste. What a loss to Canada.
The four PowerPoint slide views I provided to the clerk of the committee for you are my very brief representation of key challenges and outcomes I have reported over the past 51 years, understanding and acting on servicewomen's inclusion in the Canadian Armed Forces and the inclusion of women veterans in Canada's larger society.
The one-page bio I submitted to the committee clerk describes some of this involvement as a military researcher in my national, provincial and local community service as founder of Servicewomen’s Salute-Hommage aux Femmes Militaires—which now operates as a proxy military association to know, honour, care for and strengthen the contribution of servicewomen to Canada, because there is nothing else—and as project manager for the past five years at the centre for international and defence policy at Queen's University on the servicewomen's salute portal project.
A second document I provided to the clerk describes the 34 specific problem-solving projects undertaken by Servicewomen's Salute and Queen's University since 2017. Generally speaking, the projects describe the gaps we have identified and the corrective action we have implemented in research knowledge, CAF's lack of record-keeping, the inclusion and valuing of servicewomen, the lack of commemoration and celebration of servicewomen's military service, and the lack of responsive local community services.
I won't be surprised if the four thematic areas chosen by the committee, from women's physical and mental health to initiatives developed in allied countries, focus on and produce recommendations “to implement the best possible support measures for women Veterans”. My expectation is that the recommendations will seek to support women veterans as individuals, as well as their individual well-being. They are laudable. I can only urge the committee, as elected representatives, to think how your recommendations can take on larger strategic value and impact as well.
This is a Canadian problem. This is for Canada. What a waste.
Thank you.
:
Thank you, Mr. Chair, and good day to everyone here.
I'll begin by expressing gratitude to the committee for acknowledging and exploring the sex- and gender-specific differences that can result in inequitable health outcomes for servicewomen and women veterans as a specific and unique group. It's been said already that this study has been a long time coming, and I am thrilled to be here with you today.
Mr. Chair, I join the CAF when I was 31 years old. I was in the best shape of my life, physically and mentally. As the shortest and smallest person in my platoon, I wore the same size rucksack carrying the same equipment a large man would wear. After 15 gruelling weeks, I left St. Jean with my commission as an officer, along with stress fractures and plantar fasciitis in both feet. It took five months of physiotherapy to get myself back up and running. I think most Canadians—and perhaps you—would be shocked to learn that, so far, my two feet alone have cost VAC almost $50,000 for treatment and compensation. I think that's a ridiculous amount of money for a problem that is preventable.
More serious than feet, ill-fitting equipment also at best aggravated and at worst caused pelvic floor weakness. It's led to serious reproductive complications for me. I've had high-risk pregnancies, one miscarriage, one pre-term birth, a prolapsed bladder, and ongoing stress and bowel incontinence. I am 44 years old, and I often have to wear a disposable piece of adult underwear, because a panic attack or nightmare can lead to an accident.
I can be extremely humiliated about sharing that. It's difficult, but I believe it's important for everybody to understand what the real costs are to people like me when our system keeps making women-specific issues invisible. “Invisible” is a word that I think rings true for a lot of us. I feel my experience with VAC has been invisible. My injuries are invisible.
We know servicewomen are disproportionately targeted with sexual misconduct, sexual harassment, sexual violence, gender-based discrimination and abuse of power. I experienced the full gamut of sexual misconduct in the first 18 months of my service. By far, the most damaging was a sexual assault 18 months in, which resulted in my developing post-traumatic stress disorder.
Post-traumatic stress disorder presents physically for me. It comes out somatically. I think this is something especially true for women, as opposed to men. This is something the VAC table of disabilities—that all-important document—does not recognize. Mental pain leads to physical pain. For instance, take someone who has arthritis in their back. They're inactive. They may become isolated; then they may become depressed or anxious. That makes sense to all of us. The reverse is also true. If someone who is depressed or anxious becomes inactive and isolated, their body falls apart. That's exactly what's happened to me.
The bottom line is that I have been diagnosed with 10, more than 10, distinct physical health illnesses since being assaulted, which will require lifelong monitoring and treatment. That includes restless leg syndrome; type 1 diabetes, which came out of nowhere at age 36; chronic migraines; fibromyalgia; sexually transmitted infection; pelvic floor and reproductive issues; sexual dysfunction; lower back pain; arthritis in my neck; extreme sensitivity to sound and light; sleep apnea; and tinnitus. That's just the physical, and it's all directly related and interconnected with the fact that I have been in a state of hypervigilance for 12 years.
I haven't submitted claims with VAC for all of these conditions, because, as I said, I feel like VAC cannot see me and my disabilities. It does not recognize them as being related to my service. It's a waste of my time and energy, but my health keeps worsening as my conditions go untreated. Every application for benefits that I've put in for a physical condition—aside from the feet, which was clear—has been denied outright, and I have had to appeal.
I'm aware of the time, Mr. Chair. I'd like to speak to this committee about ways forward. I'd like to speak about the creation of external advisory committees. I want to add my voice to the growing chorus of calls for VAC to release its gender-based analysis report, which we have yet to see. I'd like to see VAC make its Canadian-funded research available publicly. I would like to see this committee recommend the creation of a comprehensive system of medical care that will meet women's needs. I'm talking about in-patient care and outpatient care. I have been talking about this for seven years, but I am happy to keep talking, because one day we will make this happen.
There's so much more I could say, but I will end here. I am open to answering your questions, even if they feel uncomfortable for you to ask. We cannot change what we can't name. We can't be shy about this, so I urge you to make strong recommendations to VAC based on our testimony, and those which will follow, so that VAC becomes transparent, open and able to meet the sex- and gender-specific needs of servicewomen and women veterans like me, because I don't want anyone else to struggle the way I have.
Thank you for having me.
:
Thanks for raising that question. I think it's a great one. I'm going to pick up on what others have said.
Veterans Affairs Canada needs to do a lot more outreach, to put out television ads and some social media. We find that we can put things on Twitter all day, but it's just not reaching the purge survivors who were fired in the 1970s and 1980s and who are aging now and aren't as familiar with social media. They don't know even what services might be provided to them.
It's not only that they think they don't deserve the support, but that they probably think in many cases that they don't qualify for support. Many of us who were purged were fired, often very quickly, with a lot of shame and no sense of any community. In fact, the military pushed people very, very far away. Also, people were so ashamed that they didn't seek comfort in family. They may have been rejected there, too, had the reason for their dismissal and their firing been known to some family members. These people are really alone, and trust is hard to build.
For lesbians—also transwomen—who went through this purging, we didn't even know that we were deemed veterans or that the definition had changed, so people haven't come forward, but we have to find these people. I think that's a duty we owe to these kinds of veterans, and then, if they do make that call, to be super trauma-informed, to be survivor-centred, as was said, to tell them how much they're going to be respected, and to make sure that whoever is receiving them is aware of the history. It's not hard to learn this history. We're doing literally thousands of micro-outreach opportunities.
The other thing I would say is that Veterans Affairs Canada could help us by respectfully connecting survivors of the purge to outside organizations that are bringing peers together and directing them to other resources that might be there. It just gives them a sense that they're not alone, that their privacy can still be respected but that other people with common experiences are around.
Most don't even know that exists. We'd love to find them and just tell them how loved they are, how valued they are and how much we respect their service. This is another kind of woman veteran who is so invisible that they're even sometimes ashamed to come out to other veterans in case they have a really bad experience and are pushed away, for probably the last time.
Are you guys okay? Okay. That's great.
I'm in my eighth year on this committee. I have to draw some attention to something here: Your testimony should be the key thing in determining what we recommend and what the government does. What I find is that people come here and share. You need to have the experts, the advisory councils and all of those things, but all of those things should wrap around what is heard here. That is not happening. It needs to happen.
Thank you so much. You guys are amazing.
I want to speak to Donna about the Survivor Perspectives Consulting Group.
I sat up reading it, and going through it and highlighting.... It is remarkable. It is a remarkable approach to dealing specifically with this military sexual trauma issue. I'm going to very quickly read your mission statement. It says, “Social change needs a movement that cannot be mandated with rules and orders. Instead, it needs to be through honest and direct engagement and putting the humanity of our members first.” From what you're saying, you understand the role of the military. It's rules and orders. It's “jump” and “don't jump”. All of a sudden, we are talking about humanity here. You're all assets, in a way.
I loved this comment, which I would like you to respond to: Warrant Officer Carolyn Edwards, who works with you, said, “I liked how the workshop highlights that you can still be a bad-ass warrior and have empathy. Listening with empathy and showing compassion...does not weaken us as soldiers. It strengthens us all to be...better, stronger and a more well-rounded force.”
“Go women”, right? That thinking is totally contrary to that of those who.... As you mention here, you received a CDS commendation for creating this program, then a letter telling you the Canadian Armed Forces leadership “sees no value in institutionalizing [your] training”.
Would you please talk about that?
The training we created is as a result of my taking training on my own with the Association of Alberta Sexual Assault Services. It's one of the only groups in Canada that offers first responder training which is just that—that support for first disclosure—as well as training through mentors and violence prevention strategies. That's Dr. Jackson Katz's group in the States on bystander engagement intervention.
I've taken the stuff that I've learned and implemented it into a military construct. We use our stories as a way to leverage that humanity, get in there and, again, shift somebody's moral compass to make them see us more as human beings and stop objectifying us.
The results that we've seen are nothing less than astounding. I've had 30 people in a room all at one point have that lightbulb moment. I try to bring other survivors with me as much as possible, so they can experience that same sort of feeling of incredible validation when all of a sudden we realize that people in the room get it. I get commanders reaching back to me afterwards, asking if it is okay if they reach out to a survivor they screwed up support for three years ago, and if that would make a difference in their healing now. In this case, I always say, absolutely, please do that now.
We get so much positive feedback. We do a pre- and post-course survey. Pre-survey, about 80% of people come into the training with other training. I want to be clear: They come in with the training that's been established by the CAF already, but they are not confident in how to support somebody. That shifts to over 90% afterwards. Now they know some things to say; more importantly they know what not to say. Now, when they're having those tough conversations, they feel confident that they're going to be able to help somebody and not hurt them.
:
When I joined, I wanted to keep girls and women safe. That was my idea. The Afghan war was still raging. I had seen videos of women in combat gear providing assistance to women and children, and that aligned with my beliefs and my desire.
I never expected to experience what I did, but I want to make sure that when I say “experience what I did”, it's not just military sexual trauma. There have been a lot of resources and attention focused on that specific issue, and I have spent years being part of that voice, but it is more than just military sexual trauma that's affecting women. Number one is the VAC table of disabilities.
If I may, Mr. Chair—I'm sorry, sir—just respond to something Mr. Desilets said earlier, which was that he felt shame as a man. Everyone has been asking where the oversight is and what's....
I have to say that I believe that you who are sitting on this committee are the oversight. We are here baring our souls. We are willing to do this because you are the ones with the power. It's not us. We can come and we can talk, but we can't change it. It is on our elected representatives.
I would hope that over the last two weeks, as you were all back at your constituencies, you took time to meet with women veterans to talk about their needs, if you're sitting on this committee. I would hope that all of you did that, because it is larger than just military sexual trauma.
I will stop there, because I know everybody wants to speak, but I needed to make that point.