The same day the Jian Ghomeshi trial began at Toronto’s Old City Hall, another sexual assault trial was taking place just one floor above.

Kelly Showker’s upcoming documentary film, Slut or Nut: The Diary of a Rape Trial, follows York University PhD student Mandi Gray as she settles her human rights case with the university, following the process of reporting a sexual assault against a fellow student.

“When I first met Mandi she was initially like, ‘I need to document some of this because I’m afraid no one is going to believe me that this stuff is happening,’” Showker says.

The film is an educational how-to meets compassion project, and many of the crew are sexual assault survivors themselves. Showker wants to make sure women understand what going the public institution route means for them.

Showker recalls the most shocking part of the process: Gray’s trial. While on the stand for four days, Gray was intensely interrogated about the incident in a narrative Showker says was highly pornographic—as if she seduced her rapist. She was asked questions from why she didn’t call 911 to how drunk she could’ve possibly been after eight beers.

“I attended all of the trials and I couldn’t believe the types of statements they made to discredit her,” Showker says. “I think a lot of people are surprised when they find that out that no one is really representing [Gray’s] interests, safety, or security in the court process because she is just a witness. She was subjugated to the most intense and brutal cross-examination.”

Gray’s case marks the first instance a judge awarded a person in Canada financial compensation from a perpetrator. The case, however, is far from over, and Gray faces the possibility of being sued if she does not wish to continue. “Once you start knocking over those dominos you can’t stop,” Showker says. We want to encourage our legal systems to do the work they are meant to, she says, but “it’s just too much.”

The film is set to be completed at the end of spring.

As Zuker says, “Rape in the case of Maya Angelou is used to reflect the suffering of her race and to Maya Angelou a bird struggling to escape its cage trying to understand and respect both her body and her words.” Many of us like to think this title is also a nod to Gray’s tattoo, which she got last September after the rape. Zuker said he cannot accept Ururyar’s evidence and that the defence’s version of events—painting Ururyar as a clean cut nice guy whose cold would have made him too weak to rape—did not happen.

Not only did the judge—an old, white man, in a place of authority—use the term “rape,” a word that is dismissed in so many spaces for being too threatening, he called Gray’s experience a nightmare. The judge used terms that are so often dismissed as feminist jargon. He discredited rape myths surrounding what constitutes a “good” and “credible” rape victim, as well as saying there is no time limit on pain—a comment made in response to the defence’s argument that it took Gray too long to report the assault. (In fact, she went to the hospital to be tested 48 hours after the rape, and then reported it another 24 hours after that.)

“No other crime is looked upon with the degree of blameworthiness, suspicion, and doubt as a rape victim,” said Zuker. “Victim blaming is unfortunately common and is one of the most significant barriers to justice and offender accountability.”

After the verdict was read, supporters and reporters, gathered outside of the courtroom. Celebratory feelings were abundant and palpable. Gray did not attend court that day, but she did release a media statement 15 minutes before the 10 a.m. decision was read.  “I am tired of people talking to me like I won some sort of rape lottery because the legal system did what it is supposed to do,” she said in her statement. Gray acknowledges that both the judge and crown did their jobs well, but rightly adds: “However, I will not congratulate the legal system, or the various courtroom actors for doing what they are supposed to do.”

Gray knows that her intersecting privileges are significant factors—she is a white, heterosexual woman in her late 20s with an in-depth knowledge of the legal system and a graduate level education. “But what can be drawn from my experience is that if I am drowning in these systems, what does that mean for those who are not university-educated, white women who are sexually assaulted?”

In court the defence lawyer acted both appallingly and wrongly. Lisa Bristow ignored Canada’s rape shield law when asking Gray questions directly pertaining to her sexual history. Bristow also read Gray’s phone number out loud in court and compared sex with Gray to sex with a dead fish. I feel sick when remembering Bristow tell Gray, “You were satisfied that you got the hot sex that you wanted.”

In her statement, Gray spoke about how the court process dehumanized her and, as she has said from the start, no matter the verdict, she would not be un-raped.

“My experience has demonstrated that Toronto Police Services do not care about sexual assault. It has been thirty years since Jane Doe first challenged the TPS for their discriminatory treatment of sexual assault complainants. The TPS have had enough time to ‘reform’, ‘diversify’ and ‘train’ but it simply does not work. It is time to imagine alternatives outside of the institution of policing for sexual assault. TPS make it clear that they do not care about sexual assault, so why continue the public façade that they take issues of sexualized and gender based violence seriously?”

Ururyar was found guilty that early afternoon. As Zuker said, “Rape it surely was.” Ururyar was released on bail until Monday July 25 when it was revoked. Gray released a public statement via Facebook sharing her thoughts on the revocation and Ururyar’s application to appeal the verdict. She explains that for over a year she has not been able to feel safe and receives daily messages telling her that she deserves to be raped again, and even die. The same day as the verdict Gray received an anonymous Facebook message calling her a misbehaving whore for having tattoos, drinking, and having sex before marriage. The writer said she deserves to be raped. Messages like these are a sobering reality that there is still a lot of work to be done.

“This is an individual with no remorse for the pain he has caused me, or the others around him. No verdict or sentence will ever reverse the pain imposed upon me by this person. With that being said, jail is not capable of curing his hatred of women,” Gray wrote. “The only reason I am somewhat relieved he is in custody is that because at least I know his likelihood of sexually assaulting another individual is substantially reduced. I don’t think it is a solution. I will never feel joy or happiness about being responsible for putting someone in jail. This is an individual with no remorse for the pain he has caused me, or the others around him. No verdict or sentence will ever reverse the pain imposed upon me by this person. With that being said, jail is not capable of curing his hatred of women.”

Gray’s work is still not done: she is currently bringing forward an Ontario Human Rights Complaint against the university and has switched her Ph.D. focus from women in prison to sexual assault.

Initially, Zuker revoked Ururyar’s bail ahead of sentencing on September 14. However on Wednesday August 3 Ontario Superior Court Justice Michael Quigley overturned the decision and Ururyar has since been released on bail.

Since the verdict Men’s Rights Activist (MRA) groups have criticized the decision, targeting Gray, and she has also been the subject of hateful YouTube videos, as well as a pro-Ururyar documentary. Her article published in NOW Magazine received so many hateful comments that the thread had to be shut down.

The Ghomeshi trial sparked a media circus. People mused on air, in print, on social media, and in coffee shops about where the blame should lay, if at all: institutional failures, failed morals, bad choices. Law degrees were replaced by snappy headlines and witty social media memes. While it’s since settled down, the verdict against Gray’s assaulter has initiated another circus. There are angry, misogynists who—no matter what a judge decides—will fight hard against women who have experienced violence. In the case of Ghomeshi, these groups preached the respect for the judge’s decision. In Ururyar’s case, it’s the opposite: we are told the judge is wrong, and I’ve heard many anti-Semitic slurs. These responses are hateful and scary, but they are not unexpected.

The people who may prove to shake the foundations of those whose lives have been affected by sexual violence are those who we see as friends, family, and peers. These are the people we seek comfort from, or whom we at least feel safe with.

Gender-based violence may seem like something that’s too scary to think about happening frequently, or it can appear like it is something that only happens to other people—bad people—on the news. It may seem like an issue that is safe to theorize about with anyone. However, for some of us these issues are part of our lives, lives that are policed by the threat of this violence. Some of us only have the privilege to say why we think these things happen because we can be pretty sure it won’t happen to us. Meanwhile, while he say whatever comes to mind without much thought, we may be telling someone we love what we think about the violence that happened to them. We may ask why some of the women in the Ghomeshi case kept in touch with the man, and unwittingly be telling our sister that she deserved what happened to her. We may say Gray made a bad choice to go to Ururyar’s apartment, and unknowingly be telling our daughter that she could have prevented her own rape, if only she were smarter.

For some of us the Ghomeshi verdict sparked water cooler conversation. For some of us the Ghomeshi verdicts lead to tears and being scared to leave our homes. It lead to women calling each other all day checking in asking if they were OK; it lead to cancelled plans, and missed work. It is progress seeing mainstream media report on these cases and it can be empowering seeing social movements tackling this issue. However, these events do not mean those of us safe from violence have full license to share whatever theory of the day they believe in—potentially at the cost of another’s well being.

Like many women, I connected with Gray over similar experiences of trauma. When the Silence is Violence Legal Defense Fund went online in December, I thought the timing worked perfectly for a January fundraiser.

Mohammad Ali performing at the Silence is Violence fundraiser. Photo by Leonardo Paradela IG: @spleo2

Dave’s… in Toronto was packed the Sunday night of the fundraiser. The bar’s management, all the entertainers, prize donors, photographers, and musicians replied quickly when I reached out and, without question, volunteered their time and energy to the cause. The Rough Go, Mohammad Ali, Wayne Kennedy, and Jen Unbe were the evening’s musical performances of the night and prize donors for the silent and live auctions included FloralManifesto, Dani Crosby, Sera Rootlet, Gnarly Art, Carlton Cinema, Jane Doe, and, of course, my Gender Block home, This Magazine.

Many involved with the event shared their own stories of sexual assault and/or rape and, naturally, their experiences with victim-blaming and thoughts on the rape culture that allows so many people to be hurt in these ways.

I connected with Gray over a series of well-timed coincidences this past fall. I snapped a picture of a Silence is Violence (SiV)  poster hung on a wall in the sociology department at York University in the fall as a reminder to add the group to the feminist resource directory I had recently launched, FIRE- Feminist Internet Resource Exchange. When This Magazine started researching on campus activism for an upcoming alternative university guide, I thought of SiV: feminism is kind of a big deal to me and the poster was pink, so I was attracted to the prospect of learning more.

The morning following the fundraiser I joined Gray and 40 of her supporters in court for three days. Again, experiences were shared. In spite of our relentless rape culture and a society that ignores this culture’s existence and instead turns to victim-blaming, Silence is Violence has connected victims and survivors (we all identify differently and that is OK!) nationwide, on campuses, court rooms, and in a bar on a Sunday night.

Feature photo by Jordan Clarke

A former This intern, Hillary Di Menna is in her second year of the gender and women’s studies program at York University. She also maintains an online feminist resource directory, FIRE- Feminist Internet Resource Exchange.

Gray, Kirchmeier, and another woman referred to as “Jane Doe”, who has been through a similar experience, are raising money for when they go to court. The Silence is Violence Legal Defense Fund is meant to even the playing field when it comes to court fees. As the group’s Indiegogo campaign page reads, “Our universities are multi-million dollar corporations. UBC recently announced raising more than 1.6 BILLION dollars.  Our universities have a team of lawyers employed to challenge our claims.” In the case of Jane Doe, the alleged abuser is a university professor, which means he is entitled to legal representation from a faculty association.

Since all women are students with precarious employment they cannot afford the same legal protection as their accused or their schools. In addition to the financial strain they continue to be re-victimized in the court system. All this knowing the odds are not in their favour. In the episode Gray’s lawyer says that out of an estimated 1,000 sexual assaults, only three are convicted. A lot of this has to do with victim blaming and the collective denial society has when it comes to the placating binary that bad things only happen to “bad”people.

On a positive note, since last week’s post, Dmitry Mordvinov was expelled, after several reports of sexual harassment and assault.

Donations to the Silence is Violence Legal Defense Fund can be made here.

A former This intern, Hillary Di Menna is in her second year of the gender and women’s studies program at York University. She also maintains an online feminist resource directory, FIRE- Feminist Internet Resource Exchange.