WE CAN’T LOOK AWAY

By SHAGORIKA EASWAR

Prabhu Rajan is Chair of the Domestic Violence Death Review Committee (DVDRC) and Chief Counsel, Office of the Chief Coroner for Ontario and the Ontario Forensic Pathology Service.

He provides legal and strategic advice to the Chief Coroner for Ontario and is responsible for co-managing inquests and advising on systemic and specific changes to the inquest system.

“An inquest is not like civil proceedings, it’s all about understanding what happened and answering questions about how a person died,” he says. “It’s about coming up with recommendations for change, to try and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Rajan doesn’t mince words, referring to deaths related to intimate partner violence (IPV) as “an epidemic”. 

The DVDRC is a multi-disciplinary advisory committee that was established in 2003 to assist the Office of the Chief Coroner in the investigation and review of deaths of persons that occur as a result of domestic violence, and to make recommendations to help prevent further deaths. It consists of representatives with expertise in domestic violence from law enforcement, the criminal justice system, the healthcare sector, social services and other public safety agencies and organizations.

In order to enhance the representation of Ontario’s diverse people and to modernize its processes in dealing with issues arising from deaths associated with and/or caused by intimate partner violence, the Committee sent out a call for new members. The aim is to explore new approaches for addressing this complex and multifaceted societal challenge.

“With racial and cultural diversity, but also diversity of profession, geographic diversity – so we are not Toronto-centric – with Indigenous voices on DVDRC, I am hopeful we will be able to better protect the vulnerable,” says Rajan. “Twenty to thirty women are killed every year in Ontario. We need to do a better job of educating the jury and the public on what IPV is, its many manifestations that may not always be obvious to an outsider, and how we address it. People tend to think of abuse as physical violence. But it can be psychological. It can be coercive control. It can take many forms that can all end in murder.”

He lists vulnerabilities that we often don’t stop to think about. That women in rural areas more at risk because of the distance from nearest neighbours and the scarcity of supports.

“There’s no one around for miles, and the use of shotguns is more prevalent. Not even to hurt, but as intimidation. Three women being killed got everyone’s attention,” he says, referring to the three women in Renfrew County who were killed by their partner. “Would that have been the case if it had been just the one?”

The government of Canada created the Gender-based Violence Settlement Sector Strategy project to help end gender-based violence for all newcomers, pointing to an understanding of the specific needs of newcomer, immigrant and refugee clients. Which is a welcome move away from the time when agencies working with victims of domestic abuse skittered away from the cultural aspect of the problem. 

New immigrants could be at risk because they lack a social support network, or don’t know how to access help. The elderly can also be at risk. There have been several cases of a spouse killing an elderly partner in a relationship with no history of violence.

“Some communities have strong faith components, and so what role can places of worship play in protecting people?” asks Rajan. “What are we doing there? In some communities, cultural factors come into play because victims don’t reach out for help and violence stays behind closed doors. We need to do a better job of reaching people, because society and communities need to work together. How do we raise young men to be respectful in relationships? It’s not one person, it’s a community.

“If we have 15 deaths at a corrections facility, it’s not one person’s drug issue, it’s a systemic issue,” he reiterates. “We have to see how big the problem is. We need a triaging of understanding reasons to happen.”

The committee has so far made more than 400 recommendations. These included awareness and training on risk factors for intimate partner homicide by physicians, nurses, mental health care providers, addiction counsellors, family law lawyers, crown attorneys and probation officers.

Access to information by victims/families regarding history of intimate partner violence.

Public education campaigns and culturally-appropriate intervention programs.

Management of high-risk offenders.

Not all were implemented.

“So is change happening? One might say, not,” concedes Rajan. “I am curious to see the government’s response to the 86 recommendations we made after the July 2022 Renfrew County case inquest.”

Rajan served as counsel in the inquest and one of the recommendations was to create a special committee to look at IPV.

“Witnesses expressed hope because attention is being drawn to the problem. But we can’t look away, we can’t move on to the next news cycle, not while women are being killed. We can’t continue with the one death-one inquest. We have to look at common, systemic issues underpinning deaths. This requires a more aggressive approach.”

To this end, Rajan is also calling for more transparency to the process, for the committee to have a more public-facing approach, instead of only addressing the issue through reports.

Asked how hard the process is on him personally, Rajan says he becomes very connected to the victims, to their families.

“I don’t wallow. I do the work because it’s important. I ask myself, if I don’t speak, who will? This might sound trite, but if I feel I am going through a lot, I remind myself of what the family is going through. I feel I am at the point where I can, hopefully, change things.

“That said, we have a trauma-informed approach towards all we do. Just recently we had a conversation about how doctors and lawyers might be trained to deal with trauma, but we have support staff, policy analysts, students, we have to aware of their mental and emotional wellbeing.”

He doesn’t see himself as the proverbial knight in shining armour and underscores the fact that the committee’s role is vital.

“There are people who dedicate their lives to this work. They go in every day, not expecting good results, and yet they continue. I’m more the facilitator or the enabler. I don’t even see myself as an expert, I’m helping create a structure where experts can create change.”

Before taking on his current role in 2016, Rajan has been Legal Director, Ministry of Education and Ministry of Training, Colleges and Universities; Deputy Legal Director, Ministry of Community Safety and Correctional Services; and Deputy Legal Director, Ministry of Labour. He was also Counsel, Human Rights Tribunal of Ontario. 

He credits his parents for instilling the human rights lens that drives him and informs his work.

“They spoke to us about the ills in the world, that was part of their ideology, part of our conversations at home.”

His parents came from families with meagre resources. His father didn’t have footwear until he was 15 and his mother came from a village that didn’t have electricity. And yet, they both had tremendous drive. His father came to the US on a Fulbright Scholarship at the University of Chicago in 1959. His mother, who came in 1960, also went on to become a professor of Women’s Studies.

They moved to Winnipeg in 1967. As academics, they had a support network, but of course they faced challenges, says Rajan. 

“Specially my mom, she was at the intersectionality of being Indian and female. But her growth from a shy young girl from a village to a strong-willed feminist who called out men when needed, was inspirational.”

Rajan spent his childhood years going back and forth between Winnipeg and Bangalore, India.

“In Canada, I was one of one or two South Asian kids at my school. The one with the strange name. But by and large, I had fewer challenges because I grew up here. I tended to get along, use my words to de-escalate.”

What complicated matters somewhat, though, were the extended stays in India. There, he was the “foreign kid”.

In India, his Canadian accent took a while to dissipate, but by then they’d be back in Canada, where his Indian accent was strange to his classmates.

“My accent went back and forth, as well, and I am sure I have some latent trauma!” he says with a chuckle.

Rajan has two sons, a 24-year-old who is a musician whose songs will soon be available on Spotify and a 19-year-old who is studying life sciences.

“My brother is an oncologist, all my cousins are doctors or engineers. I was the first in my generation to study law. I believe our children should pursue their passion, follow their own paths, if they are to fulfil their potential. There’s always time to shift gears later if it doesn’t work.”

His tips for those who seek guidance on finding success in Canada are pretty much the same.

Pursue your passion, money will follow, success will follow.

“Imagine waking up each day, not looking forward to what you do. You also have to work harder than the next person. So find what you love, and pursue it.”

And he points to the importance of challenging oneself.

“People get complacent, but what if 20 years down the road you are asking yourself, ‘Why am I here?’. Being uncomfortable pushes you, I believe it made me a better listener. I’ve worked to get to this point where I am in a position of some authority, where I can focus on diversity in hiring decisions, make some good noise.”

He also cautions against the imposter syndrome that many of us hobble ourselves with.

“It took me a few years to say, ‘Maybe I’m good, maybe I do deserve my success’,” he says.

Rajan quotes the motto of the Office of the Chief Coroner: “We speak for the dead to protect the living.”   

• Grant’s is proud to present this series about people who are making a difference in the community. Represented by PMA Canada (www.pmacanada.com).