Striking  a balance: Restorative justice brings offenders face-to-face with their victims 

  By Kate DeRoza, TIMES COLONIST   August 16, 2009

In the emotional saga following the brutal murder of 14-year-old Reena Virk in 1997, her traumatized parents went through markedly different experiences with their daughter's two killers: One of denial and self-pity with Kelly Ellard, and one of remorse and closure with Warren Glowatski.

With Ellard, Manjit and Suman Virk sat on the sidelines of the legal system, spending 12 years in and out of courtrooms, watching the courts mete out decision after decision -- three trials, one hung jury, two successful appeals -- as Ellard continued to deny her role in the murder. Year after year, the story of Reena's murder -- how she was swarmed by a group of teens, beaten and drowned under the Craigflower bridge -- was told over and over, and year after year, the Virks waited for justice.

They didn't get their wish until this year, in the country's highest court, when Ellard's attempt for a fourth trial was quashed, leaving her convicted of second-degree murder. While journalists asked for the Virks' opinions after each and every turn in the legal saga, the couple had little to do with the case other than sitting by and hoping.

But with Glowatski, things were different. The only boy among the group of teens involved in the beating -- and Ellard's partner in the fatal drowning -- Glowatski pleaded guilty to second-degree murder. A few years later, in July 2006, Suman and Manjit sat across from him in a church basement in Mission -- a far cry from the Supreme Court of Canada -- and received two things Ellard has never given them: A sense of closure and an apology.

“You don't really want to sit down and talk to the person who has taken your child's life," Suman Virk said of her initial reaction to participating in restorative justice with Glowatski. Seeing what he had to say for himself, it doesn't make things right or take away the pain, but you can let go of the questions you have and put it behind you. It gave us a voice to say whatever we needed to."

The restorative justice approach favours making amends for a crime, rather than -- or sometimes in addition to -- doling out punishments.  It typically has been reserved for minor offences, such as theft, mischief and vandalism, and can, in those cases, be used instead of the court system. In more serious cases, like Glowatski's, it works in tandem with the traditional processes of incarceration and probation.  In both situations, the premise is the same: The offender meets with the victim of his crime to apologize and to take responsibility for his actions. The programs, run mostly by volunteers, operate on small budgets and usually deal with first-time offenders.

Although supporters of restorative justice herald it as a cost-effective way to hold offenders accountable while providing a sense of healing to victims who finally get a say in the process, it has largely remained on the margins. Restorative justice takes place in small community halls and in small basement suites, like the 250-square-foot room Geanine Robey sits in talking about how the Victoria Restorative Justice Society works. The process involves little more than a circle of chairs and the participation of interested parties -- the victim and offender, a mediator and other community members.

But the exchange of dialogue is wrought with emotion, personal revelation, admissions of guilt, apologies and forgiveness, said Robey, the society's program co-ordinator and a former social worker whose dedication to community justice is palpable as she speaks. "We look at crime as harm to people in relationships, whereas in the court system the crime is breaking the law and the state is the victim," Robey said. The society's sole employee, she gets help from about 40 volunteers, who work on about 45 cases a year.  Suman Virk said that speaking freely to Glowatski in a restorative justice circle gave her and her husband a more powerful and satisfying sense of healing than any experience they could ever get in the courtroom. They remember seeing the remorse in Glowatski's eyes, hearing the anguish in his voice as he acknowledged the pain he caused and apologized.

"A lot of offenders don't see the damage of that they've done. They are put in the legal process and they find ways to defend themselves," said Suman, who spent countless hours in a courtroom waiting to see justice.  "The emotional pain is much harder to deal with."  David Gustafson is co-director of the Fraser Region Community Justice Initiative in Langley, which co-ordinated the meeting between the Virks and Glowatski.  He said only a minority of serious cases in B.C. go through the restorative justice process, but the percentage is steadily increasing.  His organization deals solely with offenders who are in federal prisons for serious crimes. While minor crimes are diverted to community groups by the police, the conference circles are initiated by either the victim or someone working with the prisoner during his or her incarceration. The process is seen as a form of rehabilitation for the offender and is looked upon favourably by the parole board.

Last year, the Oak Bay Restorative Justice Society took on a high-profile murder case after Brent Stephen Martin and Donovan Robert Roloson were convicted of manslaughter for beating fisherman David Boivin to death under the Johnson Street bridge on April 30, 2006.  Martin's lawyer approached Crown prosecutor Nils Jensen to say that Martin, who is now 21, was wracked with guilt and wanted a chance to personally apologize to Boivin's family.  Jensen said Boivin's son Eric was reluctant at first, but he eventually agreed. Boivin's partner, Danielle LaFlamme, also participated.  According to Jensen, LaFlamme "felt she got some closure and she got some answers from this young man" in the process.  "The criminal justice system is a very expensive system and it's sort of a blunt object to correcting behaviour," he said.  "Often times, it's better left to the community to handle it."

Despite successes in the Virk and Boivin cases, without more funding, restorative justice groups are restricted to petty crime cases, Robey said. She said the provincial Ministry of Public Safety and B.C.'s Solicitor General give restorative justice groups funding only for category three and four offences -- such as break and enter into a business or simple assault.  Robey said some of the Victoria society's most successful cases were category two cases, with offenders who had committed assault with a weapon or broken into someone's home.  Last year, the groups' funding of $163,000 -- shared by 52 agencies: $2,500 for existing programs and $5,000 for startups -- almost didn't appear. In fact, the groups were initially told funding through the Community Accountability Program had been cut, but it was eventually reinstated after a public outcry.

For the Victoria Restorative Justice Society that $2,500 barely covers office supplies. It's "a pittance," Robey said, mostly a symbolic gesture.  On Thursday, restorative justice groups found out funding for this year has been approved, after worries that the forecast $2-billion deficit would put it on the chopping block. It is not clear how many organizations will receive funding.

"There is a commitment to restorative justice," insists Pardeep Purewal, director of crime prevention and stakeholder relations for the Ministry of Public Safety.The government sees the value in it."  Yet there seems to be no clear organization around the programs. It took weeks for the Times Colonist to get a response from the ministry about who oversees restorative justice funding.

 In the emotional saga following the brutal murder of 14-year-old Reena Virk in 1997, her traumatized parents went through markedly different experiences with their daughter's two killers: One of denial and self-pity with Kelly Ellard, and one of remorse and closure with Warren Glowatski.

With Ellard, Manjit and Suman Virk sat on the sidelines of the legal system, spending 12 years in and out of courtrooms, watching the courts mete out decision after decision -- three trials, one hung jury, two successful appeals -- as Ellard continued to deny her role in the murder. Year after year, the story of Reena's murder -- how she was swarmed by a group of teens, beaten and drowned under the Craigflower bridge -- was told over and over, and year after year, the Virks waited for justice. They didn't get their wish until this year, in the country's highest court, when Ellard's attempt for a fourth trial was quashed, leaving her convicted of second-degree murder. While journalists asked for the Virks' opinions after each and every turn in the legal saga, the couple had little to do with the case other than sitting by and hoping.

But with Glowatski, things were different. The only boy among the group of teens involved in the beating -- and Ellard's partner in the fatal drowning -- Glowatski pleaded guilty to second-degree murder. A few years later, in July 2006, Suman and Manjit sat across from him in a church basement in Mission -- a far cry from the Supreme Court of Canada -- and received two things Ellard has never given them: A sense of closure and an apology.

'You don't really want to sit down and talk to the person who has taken your child's life," Suman Virk said of her initial reaction to participating in restorative justice with Glowatski. "Seeing what he had to say for himself, it doesn't make things right or take away the pain, but you can let go of the questions you have and put it behind you.  "It gave us a voice to say whatever we needed to."

The restorative justice approach favours making amends for a crime, rather than -- or sometimes in addition to -- doling out punishments.  It typically has been reserved for minor offences, such as theft, mischief and vandalism, and can, in those cases, be used instead of the court system. In more serious cases, like Glowatski's, it works in tandem with the traditional processes of incarceration and probation.

In both situations, the premise is the same: The offender meets with the victim of his crime to apologize and to take responsibility for his actions. The programs, run mostly by volunteers, operate on small budgets and usually deal with first-time offenders.  Although supporters of restorative justice herald it as a cost-effective way to hold offenders accountable while providing a sense of healing to victims who finally get a say in the process, it has largely remained on the margins.  Restorative justice takes place in small community halls and in small basement suites, like the 250-square-foot room Geanine Robey sits in talking about how the Victoria Restorative Justice Society works.

RESTORATIVE JUSTICE 

By Katie DeRosa, Times Colonist HEALING FOR THE COMMUNITY      "Victims' views"

 August 16, 2009

Corey Judd knows how damaging a random act of vandalism can be, how a small action has the power to shatter a small business.  In April, his downtown restaurant opened on a shoestring budget thanks to donations from friends and families. Six days later, a brick came hurtling through the front window. Judd, who was at the restaurant late that night, watched the glass fall to the floor and the young man run down the street and out of sight. 

While the community rallied around Judd, with donations far exceeding the $1,000 he needed to fix the window, the money didn't heal the emotional toll. Victoria Restorative Justice Society program co-ordinator Geanine Robey told police that she'd like the case if officers could find the culprit. They never did.  But a month later, another eerily similar case came across the society's desk -- a broken window, a misguided youth -- but this one was missing a victim willing to speak up about the impact of the drunken show of aggression. Restorative justice groups often look for community spokespeople that can speak about the human impact of crime, especially when the "victim" is a faceless big box store, said Robey. 

So Judd stepped in.  "It gave me a chance to say 'we are the people on the other side of the window,'" he said, adding he 

explained that even one broken glass pane can be devastating for a small business, and that aside from the financial costs, he was also left with feelings of mistrust and concerns for safety. Judd said the offender had no criminal record and was confident the process would compel him to keep it that way. The offender agreed to volunteer with kids over the summer, Judd said, where he might be more aware of his behaviour as a role model. 

"I could see the change in his attitude. He was remorseful, embarrassed and thankful." 

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS 

How is a case brought forward? 

For small community programs like Victoria Restorative Justice, the majority of cases are referred by police departments and Crown prosecutors -- usually when there is not enough evidence to proceed in the courts or when the offender admits guilt and wants to apologize. A victim can also request a meeting with the offender. 

  While the person who broke his café window has not been caught, business owner Corey Judd took part in a  conference circle for a similar crime. 

For the Fraser Valley Community Justice Initiative -- which deals only with offenders serving time in a federal prison for a serious crime -- half of their cases come from victims or victim-serving organizations and the other half come from offenders or people who work with offenders in the corrections facility. 

Why would someone want to do it? 

For victims, it's a chance to express how the crime affected them physically or emotionally. They can ask questions in hopes of better understanding what happened, and to get closure. For some victims, it restores a lost sense of security, said Geanine Robey, program co-ordinator for the Victoria Restorative Justice society. She cites the example of an elderly woman who is terrified after her home is broken into, and the subsequent relief she might feel when learning the perpetrator was a youth who had too much to drink and thought he was breaking into his own house. 

"Victims will feel a lot more empathy and feel better, because the big bad person who broke into their house is actually just this scrawny kid," said Liz Elliott, co-director of the Centre for Restorative Justice at Simon Fraser University. For the offender, it is a chance to own up to the crime and identify the root causes of the destructive behaviour. They don't make excuses, Robey said, rather acknowledge the things going on in their life -- addiction, harmful relationships, etc. -- so they can change. It is seen as one step in the rehabilitation process. Offenders serving time in prison also often participate in restorative justice because parole boards can look favourably upon the process as a sign they've admitted guilt, expressed remorse, and have tried to make amends. 

What happens afterwards? 

During the session or sessions, an agreement is usually reached between the offender, the victim and the community as to how the harm can be repaired. This is usually a form of restitution, such as repayment for damage or community service, that is directly related to the offense. Victoria police Chief Jamie Graham gives the example of a girl who shoplifts make-up from a department store might volunteer helping people with disabilities. The agreement can also include writing a formal apology. 

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