This week I have been on a mission.
I have witnessed too much abuse, too many people turning blind eyes, saying nothing because they “don’t want to get involved.” Because they “don’t want to take sides.”
But here is the truth:
If you don’t choose a side, you have already chosen his.
Silence is not neutral. Silence condones.
When you stay quiet in the face of abuse, the abuser sees your silence as validation — proof that they can continue without consequence.
Learning from History
Just last month, Canada marked the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. We collectively recognized the institutional complicity and systemic harm that allowed abuse and cultural genocide to persist for generations of Indigenous children in residential schools.
Those horrors went unchecked for decades because in part of silence.
Although we have made progress, the same patterns of institutional failure still exist today. Gaps in procedure, indifference, and misplaced “neutrality” continue to enable abuse in subtler but equally damaging forms.
A Principal’s Breach of Duty
Recently, I had to call out a school principal who wrote a character reference for my ex-partner — a man charged with sexual assault against me, two counts of child abuse against our children, and uttering threats of bodily harm and death.
She addressed the letter to a judge, fully aware that it would be used to support his motion for 50/50 custody of our six-year-old son.
As my older daughters say, “You’re safe — until you’re not.”
Knowing this, she chose to write a letter of support hoping her words would “sway the judge.”
When I contacted the school board, they confirmed she had breached policy by doing so. They wrote that she had violated standards of professional ethics, duty of care, and neutrality, and that her actions did not reflect the values of the Board.
The Board clarified that no staff member should ever participate in matters involving active criminal or family-court proceedings, especially where children’s safety is concerned.
A principal holds a fiduciary and moral duty to act in the best interests of the child.
By using her institutional position to support someone facing serious criminal charges, she undermined public confidence in the education system and demonstrated the very definition of institutional complicity.
From Personal Harm to Systemic Reform
Systemic harm doesn’t end with an apology.
It persists wherever leaders choose loyalty, silence, or reputation over protection and justice.
So I wrote to the Board again — not to complain, but to advocate. I asked them to:
- Review policies around staff participation in external legal matters.
- Issue formal directives reinforcing professional boundaries and ethical obligations.
- Implement trauma-informed and ethics-based training on institutional accountability and duty of care.
- Establish monitoring systems to prevent future breaches.
This incident, I told them, is a chance to turn an ethical failure into a catalyst for reform. Without visible corrective measures, it risks becoming another example of systemic harm perpetuated through inaction — something no Ontario school should accept in a post-Every Child Matters era.
I’ve also requested copies of the communications or directives sent to all principals and administrators, exercising my right under the Municipal Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act (MFIPPA). Institutions are legally obligated to respond or explain why they cannot.
If no directive exists, I expect that to be admitted in writing — because silence and opacity are not acceptable answers.
A Broader Pattern of Institutional Failure
This is not just about one principal or one school board.
A Scout leader last year told my ex that the children had gone to the police to make statements about abuse. That disclosure delayed the investigation from two weeks to four months. He received a mere three-year written reprimand to be placed in his file after I filed an official complaint and they ‘investigated’.
At my credit union, I discovered multiple data protection and fiduciary breaches — unauthorized changes to business banking resolutions, and my ex being allowed to make deposits into my personal account without my consent.
These aren’t minor oversights; they are violations of trust and enablers of coercive control.
When institutions hesitate to act — out of fear of conflict, confusion over boundaries, or a desire to stay “neutral”, or ignorance — they become extensions of the harm itself.
Why I Speak Out
As someone rebuilding after domestic violence and coercive control, I now advocate not only for my children and myself, but for all those who come after us.
My mission is to close the policy loopholes that allow abusers and institutional failures to persist — to ensure that responses are trauma-informed, lawful, and ethically enforced.
We cannot allow harm to continue simply because people are uncomfortable drawing boundaries.
Institutions must say, “This is the line.”
And then they must stand by it.
Anything less is complicity.
The Cost of Silence
Some people say they “don’t want to take sides.” But refusing to take a side is, in itself, a choice.
Silence gives the abuser permission to continue.
If more people said, “No — this is wrong. No — this will not continue,” then accountability would follow.
I will not stay silent about institutional failures.
I am calling them out — one by one — because silence is what sustains abuse, and only truth can dismantle it.
