Raised awareness of sexual violence increases province-wide need for counsellors
Over three years ago, an anonymous
Fanshawe student was sexually
assaulted by someone she didn’t
know.
As she subsequently pursued a legal case against her attacker, she sought out support from the Sexual Assault Centre of London (SACL) in the summer of 2016. After an initial consultation with a counsellor, she was promised a wait of approximately five weeks before she was to receive regular weekly non-emergency counselling sessions.
After following up several times with the centre in the weeks after her initial appointment, the student remains on the waitlist as of March 2017.
She wonders what the reason for the extended wait may be, and if there are other area survivors experiencing similar frustrations.
“Why am I still on this waiting list? How many women are in front of me waiting? This is heartbreaking that there are this many survivors trying to get help and that the waitlist is this long,” the student said.
Although she has been informed of other options including finding a paid counsellor or utilizing the centre’s 24-hour hotline and emergency counselling sessions, the student stresses the importance of the consistency attached to speaking in person with a trained professional on a regular basis.
“I needed that security with one person, not a phone call with someone. It’s different when you’re talking to that one person, but on the phone, you hang up and they’re gone,” she said. “I don’t want to retell my story to someone who has never heard it before because it’s hard for me to even verbalize it.”
At SACL, AnnaLise Trudell, PhD, manager of education, training and research said that the student’s lengthier wait is uncommon, and that she hopes to support her in determining its exact cause.
According to Trudell, the speed of intake depends on an individual’s level of crisis, but the average wait time for weekly counselling is typically three to five weeks.
Whether it is over the hotline or in person, a client’s needs are evaluated upon their first contact with SACL. A triaging takes place and they are directed to the most appropriate service at either the centre, or community partners such as the Regional Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Treatment Program at St. Joseph’s Hospital.
She also acknowledges that there are faults within the system that need to be addressed.
“We always have a waitlist. There’s never a point in time when we don’t,” said Trudell, who attributes the more general wait times to a capacity issue at the centre.
March 2015 saw the Ontario government’s inauguration of It’s Never Okay, an action plan designed to stop sexual violence and harassment.
As part of the plan’s implementation, expanded funding was dispensed by the attorney general to the province’s network of community- based sexual assault centres to improve their services, based off the number of clients in each location.
“That enabled us to get some extra public education and we increased our administrative capacity,” Trudell said of the funding. “But you can’t hire a new counsellor on a one-off fund. You need ongoing funding to support ongoing programming.”
SACL currently has enough funding to employ two full-time counsellors. Responsibilities are divided between them to cover county outreach, run group counselling sessions and hold 13 to15 private counselling sessions per individual client.
Last year, SACL’s highly trained volunteers served over 800 individuals over their crisis hotline.
Over 400 clients received one-onone counselling.
“Our average wait time is not where we want it to be. It’s a redundant record playing, but there’s not enough money particularly around counselling. That’s what we hear from survivors,” Trudell said.
Trudell emphasized that even though funding is a problem, she has seen a significant increase in overall awareness about sexual violence prevention and rape culture amongst the groups she educates. This, she said, is thanks to the strides made by the It’s Never Okay action plan.
Leah Marshall represents another stride accomplished by the plan. As Fanshawe’s sexual violence and prevention advisor, she fills one of the province’s first roles created specifically to enact a stand-alone policy in colleges and universities that will support students who have recently or historically experienced sexual violence.
According to Marshall, one in five women experience sexual assault on a college campus.
With over 20,000 students, Marshall’s division was created through counselling and accessibility services, out of a substantial need for an immediate response that would be easily accessible to survivors, thereby reducing strain placed on other local resources.
“With most services, there’s usually some kind of waiting time. The new action plan coming out really stimulated a conversation around the fact that there needs to be more money put into these services,” Marshall said.
Nicole Pietsch, co-ordinator of the Ontario Coalition of Rape Crisis Centres, agreed that the efforts of the action plan have positively resulted in an increased widespread awareness of sexual violence and its related issues.
Yet while the emergence of high profile cases of sexual assault paired with the plan’s focus on education has led to an influx of survivors reporting their attacks and seeking support, the number of full-time counsellors has remained the same.
“Ten years ago, Ontario’s community- based sexual assault centres saw around 30,000 survivors. There were 50,000 in the most recent fiscal year, but we still have the same capacity,” Pietsch said.
While all centres have been working to adjust to the drastic increase in intake, the reality is that the demand surpasses all available resources, particularly in urban areas.
For the anonymous Fanshawe student, the disproportion between survivors and counsellors is taking its toll.
“I wish SACL would call me and update me on where I was on the list,” she said. “I understand it must be extensive, but having this system in place would make me feel more listened to and that I’m not just a number on a list, which I shouldn’t feel at all as a survivor trying to get help.”
Ultimately, she said being heard and believed is what she and other survivors need most.
As she subsequently pursued a legal case against her attacker, she sought out support from the Sexual Assault Centre of London (SACL) in the summer of 2016. After an initial consultation with a counsellor, she was promised a wait of approximately five weeks before she was to receive regular weekly non-emergency counselling sessions.
After following up several times with the centre in the weeks after her initial appointment, the student remains on the waitlist as of March 2017.
She wonders what the reason for the extended wait may be, and if there are other area survivors experiencing similar frustrations.
“Why am I still on this waiting list? How many women are in front of me waiting? This is heartbreaking that there are this many survivors trying to get help and that the waitlist is this long,” the student said.
Although she has been informed of other options including finding a paid counsellor or utilizing the centre’s 24-hour hotline and emergency counselling sessions, the student stresses the importance of the consistency attached to speaking in person with a trained professional on a regular basis.
“I needed that security with one person, not a phone call with someone. It’s different when you’re talking to that one person, but on the phone, you hang up and they’re gone,” she said. “I don’t want to retell my story to someone who has never heard it before because it’s hard for me to even verbalize it.”
At SACL, AnnaLise Trudell, PhD, manager of education, training and research said that the student’s lengthier wait is uncommon, and that she hopes to support her in determining its exact cause.
According to Trudell, the speed of intake depends on an individual’s level of crisis, but the average wait time for weekly counselling is typically three to five weeks.
Whether it is over the hotline or in person, a client’s needs are evaluated upon their first contact with SACL. A triaging takes place and they are directed to the most appropriate service at either the centre, or community partners such as the Regional Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Treatment Program at St. Joseph’s Hospital.
She also acknowledges that there are faults within the system that need to be addressed.
“We always have a waitlist. There’s never a point in time when we don’t,” said Trudell, who attributes the more general wait times to a capacity issue at the centre.
March 2015 saw the Ontario government’s inauguration of It’s Never Okay, an action plan designed to stop sexual violence and harassment.
As part of the plan’s implementation, expanded funding was dispensed by the attorney general to the province’s network of community- based sexual assault centres to improve their services, based off the number of clients in each location.
“That enabled us to get some extra public education and we increased our administrative capacity,” Trudell said of the funding. “But you can’t hire a new counsellor on a one-off fund. You need ongoing funding to support ongoing programming.”
SACL currently has enough funding to employ two full-time counsellors. Responsibilities are divided between them to cover county outreach, run group counselling sessions and hold 13 to15 private counselling sessions per individual client.
Last year, SACL’s highly trained volunteers served over 800 individuals over their crisis hotline.
Over 400 clients received one-onone counselling.
“Our average wait time is not where we want it to be. It’s a redundant record playing, but there’s not enough money particularly around counselling. That’s what we hear from survivors,” Trudell said.
Trudell emphasized that even though funding is a problem, she has seen a significant increase in overall awareness about sexual violence prevention and rape culture amongst the groups she educates. This, she said, is thanks to the strides made by the It’s Never Okay action plan.
Leah Marshall represents another stride accomplished by the plan. As Fanshawe’s sexual violence and prevention advisor, she fills one of the province’s first roles created specifically to enact a stand-alone policy in colleges and universities that will support students who have recently or historically experienced sexual violence.
According to Marshall, one in five women experience sexual assault on a college campus.
With over 20,000 students, Marshall’s division was created through counselling and accessibility services, out of a substantial need for an immediate response that would be easily accessible to survivors, thereby reducing strain placed on other local resources.
“With most services, there’s usually some kind of waiting time. The new action plan coming out really stimulated a conversation around the fact that there needs to be more money put into these services,” Marshall said.
Nicole Pietsch, co-ordinator of the Ontario Coalition of Rape Crisis Centres, agreed that the efforts of the action plan have positively resulted in an increased widespread awareness of sexual violence and its related issues.
Yet while the emergence of high profile cases of sexual assault paired with the plan’s focus on education has led to an influx of survivors reporting their attacks and seeking support, the number of full-time counsellors has remained the same.
“Ten years ago, Ontario’s community- based sexual assault centres saw around 30,000 survivors. There were 50,000 in the most recent fiscal year, but we still have the same capacity,” Pietsch said.
While all centres have been working to adjust to the drastic increase in intake, the reality is that the demand surpasses all available resources, particularly in urban areas.
For the anonymous Fanshawe student, the disproportion between survivors and counsellors is taking its toll.
“I wish SACL would call me and update me on where I was on the list,” she said. “I understand it must be extensive, but having this system in place would make me feel more listened to and that I’m not just a number on a list, which I shouldn’t feel at all as a survivor trying to get help.”
Ultimately, she said being heard and believed is what she and other survivors need most.
