When I heard that my book had been shortlisted for the Donner Award, I figured it was a long shot. Up against four books written by academics and published by scholarly presses, my book was clearly a case of “one of these is not like the others.”
I won’t lie – while being shortlisted was certainly a great honour, I was hoping to see And Sometimes They Kill You on bookstore shelves sporting a gold sticker announcing it as the Donner Award winner. But, that pleasure has gone to four academics at Dalhousie University for their book about COVID.
All short-listed authors were asked to come with an acceptance speech prepared. Here’s what I would have said had I been the winner.
No author could hope for a better publisher than Between the Lines. It has been an absolute pleasure to work with people with whom I share a commitment to the importance of social justice. A special thank you to Tilman Lewis; my editor. Tilman, you showed such respect for my work, and your ideas and suggestions always made what I had written better than it had been. I also deeply appreciate your sensitivity to the emotional challenges of writing a book about intimate partner violence.
I have many friends and colleagues who have contributed much to my journey that has led to this book, and I hope you all know who you are.
My daughter Kate, who is here tonight, unwittingly set me on the path to political activism and, ultimately, my decision to engage with the law to try to effect social change. My son, Jesse, who is planting strawberries on the west coast, gave me the opportunity to learn how to raise a boy into a man who understood the privilege his gender granted him and the responsibilities that go along with that privilege.
And, last but not least, my partner. It can’t be easy to be the partner of an often-angry, sometimes-despairing feminist, but he has pulled it off with considerable grace. Peter, thank you for being by my side for the past 40+ years. I like to think we continue to learn and grow together while also having a lot of fun.
The roots of the book
In June 2022, I participated in an inquest that examined the 2015 Renfrew County, Ontario, murders of three women – Carole Culleton, Anastasia Kuzyk and Nathalie Warmerdam – by one man. As I prepared my testimony and listened to the evidence presented by others I was struck, not for the first time, by the fact that we already knew – from previous inquests and inquiries, 20 years of domestic violence death review committee reports, academic and community-based research, and from what we heard or read in the news all too frequently – that intimate partner violence (IPV) was (and remains) a pervasive and insidious problem in Canada and around the world. We also already knew in large measure what we needed to do to improve our responses to IPV and to eradicate it. That feeling was only further cemented when, shortly after the inquest concluded, I testified at the Nova Scotia Mass Casualty Commission hearings.
Yet, year after year, thousands of women and their children in this country continue to live with violence every day and hundreds are killed by their partners or former partners.
Why? The conclusion I came to was that there is a lack of both public and political will to address gender-based violence. And that’s why I decided to write this book.
Role of public policy
When we talk about public policy, we need to understand the word public in at least two ways – policy that is for the public, but also policy that is shaped by the public. Too often, we see our role as citizens in a democracy to be nothing more than voting in elections and then complaining about what those who have been elected do or don’t do.
Admittedly, as seems to be the case right now, we get engaged enough to put our elbows up, sing the national anthem with extra fervour, wave the flag and turn out in record numbers to vote, but that level of public engagement is the exception rather than the rule.
We need more of that kind of engagement if Canada’s public policies are to truly reflect what we really need. We, the public, have a responsibility to hold those who make public policy accountable to us.
The subject matter of my book is not particularly cheerful. (No, I had to tell one reader at a book signing, it’s not a murder mystery.) Those who read it may feel anger, frustration and sadness. Nonetheless, I believe that it is a hopeful book. I want it to inspire readers, as they learn about the strength, determination, and resiliency of the many who have survived gender-based violence and those who have supported them. The feminist movement has had successes in changing systems for the better, and together we can all build on those.
Ultimately, I hope readers will be moved to join—in whatever way they can—the vital work of eradicating intimate partner violence. Gender-based violence is an epidemic, a serious all-of society problem, and it requires an all-of-society, revolutionary response.
What a wonderful speech Pam!