So I find myself in a bit of a quandry concerning the rights of those convicted of a crime, especially a violent crime. In Canada we have two rather high profile murder cases hitting the headlines once again. The first deals with Karla Homolka and the fact that she is getting out of jail in July after having served 12 years in prison for her part in the violent killings of Kristen French and Leslie Mahaffey.
It turns out that Karla lied to the courts when she struck her deal 12 years ago. She claimed to be a battered wife who was forced to do these horrible things. After the fact video's came to light that showed Karla was an active participant in the crimes and was not forced as she claimed. Now she will get out in July and unless a Quebec court judge agrees with the Ontario government she will be completely free to do as she wishes. The one thing that my give a person pause in all of this is that the parole board has repeatedly said that Karla showed a certain lack of remorse for her crimes. She is not going to be charged in the death of her sister even though she had a part in it and apparently she had information concerning a 4th victim but that never came out.
The second case in question concerns Kelly Ellard who was found guilty of 2nd degree murder in the beating and drowning death of Reena Virk. In November 1997, Kelly Ellard and a group of teenagers beat a 14 year old Reena Virk under a bridge in Vancouver. After Reena escaped the group she fled across the bridge but was once again set upon by Kelly and another (who was also found guilty of 2nd degree murder) who attacked her. We are told that Kelly then dragged Reena down to the river and held her head under water with her foot. According to Kelly's friends, Kelly bragged about the killing in the days that followed. Also in February 2004 Kelly was charged with assault when she attacked a 58 year old women in a park.
I can clearly remember working nights in a factory when this case was going on and thinking that the 'golden rule' should be applied to Kelly Ellard and the others. That seeing as how they attacked a innocent and defenceless girl, killing her in the end, that maybe they should know what it is like to be attacked by a group of strangers. I don't say this to my credit but I am being honest.
I bring these two cases up because I find myself wrestling with the concept of the social contract. In essence each citizen of the country is part of a contract in which they are provided with rights protected by the government and in return each of us is expected to obey the laws set down by that government. I know that in many cases the contract is forced upon us as we are part of it simply by being born but I question whether or not it is possible to violate the social contract to such an extent that the contract should no longer apply to you.
It is clear that criminals violate the social contract because they broke the law. It is also clear that different criminals violate the social contract to differing extents based upon their actions. A person found with some pot is not the same as a person who rapes or kills. We as members of society delude ourselves that justice will be served through the courts and that our criminal justice system will reform these criminals to such an extent that they will uphold the social contract for good. Recently a woman who left her baby in a sweltering apartment to die while she went on a 36 hour bender was given only 3 years for the baby's death. A number of years ago 2 men in Quebec were sentenced to 2 years in prison for brutally raping a woman, dangling her from a 6th floor balcony, bashing her head in with a tire iron (from which she suffered permanent brain injury) and left her to die in a garbage dumpster. Is this justice?
I am not advocating capital punishment but I do question if our criminal justice system is truly serving its purpose in protecting the people in society. I have a cousin, who after 53 convictions still only receives 6 months in jail for a break and enter. He acknowledges that he can do the time with no problems. Obviously the prospect of serving time in a jail is no deterent to him. It obviously does little to reform him of his penchant for violating the social contract.
I understand that this is a slippery slope and that perhaps there is no clear answer but I do find it frustrating that people who so grossly violate the trust of society and their fellow man by killing, raping, etc. are protected more than the victims of their crimes. The social contract meant nothing to them when they were performing their crimes so why should it mean anything when they are aprehended? For in the end Karla Homolka spent 12 years in jail and society is treated to pictures of her mugging for the camera at birthday parties and learning that she gets steak dinners twice a week. Leslie Mahaffey and Kristen French, the two girls that she brutalized, molested, killed and dismembered suffered as no person should and paid their lives for it. They are no longer free to walk in the sunshine, hear the birds sing, smell the flowers of spring, fall in love, have children, etc. so why should the people who denied them this be granted it in return? Reena Virk was only 14 when she was brutally killed, the same holds true for her as it does for Leslie and Kristen so why should Kelly Ellard ever get out?
I say that this is quandry for me because in the end it is a battle between my mind that says that we must forgive and my gut that says that these people deserve to suffer to some extent so that they know clearly and without any shodow of a doubt that what they did was wrong and that it will not be tollerated by society.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Innocence
The sun looks at me as though through a mirror. I sit and look at the colours dance amongst the browns of the mud puddle. The sun shines, the wind blows, the trees grow, I sit. A bird darts to my left collecting debris for its nest. I watch as it scours the area for something appropriate, something that is good enough to cradle its young. It clutches what looks like a few pieces of hay in its beak and flies off into the white and blue. My eyes are caught by the clouds hanging lazily overhead. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, simply hanging there providing shade. I look down, the dancing colours are gone.
In the distance I can hear a child's laughter ringing out amongst the buildings. I can't see them but I can remember them. My mind wanders, the sun shines, the trees grow. I'm awed by the height of the trees and how cool it feels walking amongst their brown sturdy trunks. Earlier in the day we packed our lunches, grabbed some water and prepared for our adventure we headed off. We walked north towards our friends house and then into the woods behind where my uncle used to live. It was easy walking, the woods weren't too thick and the ground was fairly even. After about 20 minutes we reach the stream and begin following it upstream.
It's such a wonderful day. The sun shines through the leafy canopy above casting alternating patches of light and dark upon the ground around us. We fan out and simply take in the life around us, stopping periodically to investigate something new. A fish swims by to cheers of delight. We walk for what seems like forever before stopping to eat some lunch. The sun is high in the sky but it is nice and cool here shaded in the woods. We continue to treck upstream occasionally chasing squirels, pointing out fish or picking up various oddities to show our parents back home.
I'd never been this far before, it all looks so strange and new. For once I was Magellan or Columbus seeing something new and wonderous. We reach a clearing lit up by the bright sunshine. It seems weird to see this island of grass amongst the trees but the sun feels warm on our cheeks and necks. We continue upstream and there it was, my first waterfall. It wasn't big or unique but it was new and wonderous. It fed a small pool which in turn fed the stream that we had been following. We all stop and watch the waterfall and the pool beneath. We see fish swimming below us, speckeled trout someone says. We sit for what seems like hours around our new waterfall, watching the fish. Eventually we decide we should continue on, its getting late.
We reach a dirt road after a while and decide to follow it. After a while we see things that are familiar but different. It brings us out near the big hill which we sled down in the winter but is now teeming with grass, birds and insects. We head home our minds filled with stories and memories. Our big adventure into the wild. It was ours. It was mine.
Years later I went back after we had moved away. They had built more houses so that the stream ran through peoples back yards. They didn't like it when I walked through to the stream and into the woods. It wasn't as big as I had remembered, it all seemed so different. The wonder was gone, the simple joy and amazement was gone. My childhood innocence had been diminished. I found my waterfall and smiled at the memories that the three feet of falling water conjured in my mind. I continued on to the dirt road, which by this point had been fenced off and followed it down to our old sled hill. It too had been fenced off, kids no longer got to play here in the winter, feeling the wind and snow sting their faces as they sped down the hill.
I sit and notice the smile that had settled over my face. I listen as the children's laughter echoes amongst the buildings and I find myself jealous of their joy. There I sit, an adult, jaded and cynical. Innocence lost and seeming incapable of simple joy. My eyes begin to tear at the loss. My mind instinctively tells me to stop. I say no. The tears trace their lines down my cheeks. Tears are appropriate. People cry when something dies. People cry when something dear is lost. People should cry when they finally realize that they can't go back to the innocence and wonder that is childhood. People should cry when they realize that they have lost the ability to lose themselves in the wonder of things small. I hope you don't have to cry as I have.
In the distance I can hear a child's laughter ringing out amongst the buildings. I can't see them but I can remember them. My mind wanders, the sun shines, the trees grow. I'm awed by the height of the trees and how cool it feels walking amongst their brown sturdy trunks. Earlier in the day we packed our lunches, grabbed some water and prepared for our adventure we headed off. We walked north towards our friends house and then into the woods behind where my uncle used to live. It was easy walking, the woods weren't too thick and the ground was fairly even. After about 20 minutes we reach the stream and begin following it upstream.
It's such a wonderful day. The sun shines through the leafy canopy above casting alternating patches of light and dark upon the ground around us. We fan out and simply take in the life around us, stopping periodically to investigate something new. A fish swims by to cheers of delight. We walk for what seems like forever before stopping to eat some lunch. The sun is high in the sky but it is nice and cool here shaded in the woods. We continue to treck upstream occasionally chasing squirels, pointing out fish or picking up various oddities to show our parents back home.
I'd never been this far before, it all looks so strange and new. For once I was Magellan or Columbus seeing something new and wonderous. We reach a clearing lit up by the bright sunshine. It seems weird to see this island of grass amongst the trees but the sun feels warm on our cheeks and necks. We continue upstream and there it was, my first waterfall. It wasn't big or unique but it was new and wonderous. It fed a small pool which in turn fed the stream that we had been following. We all stop and watch the waterfall and the pool beneath. We see fish swimming below us, speckeled trout someone says. We sit for what seems like hours around our new waterfall, watching the fish. Eventually we decide we should continue on, its getting late.
We reach a dirt road after a while and decide to follow it. After a while we see things that are familiar but different. It brings us out near the big hill which we sled down in the winter but is now teeming with grass, birds and insects. We head home our minds filled with stories and memories. Our big adventure into the wild. It was ours. It was mine.
Years later I went back after we had moved away. They had built more houses so that the stream ran through peoples back yards. They didn't like it when I walked through to the stream and into the woods. It wasn't as big as I had remembered, it all seemed so different. The wonder was gone, the simple joy and amazement was gone. My childhood innocence had been diminished. I found my waterfall and smiled at the memories that the three feet of falling water conjured in my mind. I continued on to the dirt road, which by this point had been fenced off and followed it down to our old sled hill. It too had been fenced off, kids no longer got to play here in the winter, feeling the wind and snow sting their faces as they sped down the hill.
I sit and notice the smile that had settled over my face. I listen as the children's laughter echoes amongst the buildings and I find myself jealous of their joy. There I sit, an adult, jaded and cynical. Innocence lost and seeming incapable of simple joy. My eyes begin to tear at the loss. My mind instinctively tells me to stop. I say no. The tears trace their lines down my cheeks. Tears are appropriate. People cry when something dies. People cry when something dear is lost. People should cry when they finally realize that they can't go back to the innocence and wonder that is childhood. People should cry when they realize that they have lost the ability to lose themselves in the wonder of things small. I hope you don't have to cry as I have.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Goodbye
Today, as I am sure that most of you have heard, Pope John Paul II died. He was 84 years old. As I am sure you will hear, if you haven't already, he travelled more than any Pope in history. He visited 127 nations. However, the thing that can get lost in all of this (the focus upon his accomplishments, his theology, his travels, the institution of the Pope, etc.) is that this was a man who loved people. Despite his position of power and influence, despite the demands on his time, despite the rigors of leading the Catholic Church, this was a man who had a gift for connecting with people. It was this connectedness that allowed him to share accutely the struggles, pain, joy, triumphs, sadness and love that we have all experienced. He loved people simply because they were people, because he saw the intrinsic value of every human being. Whether or not you are Catholic or not, whether or not you share his beliefs or not, please understand that if each and everyone of us shared his passion for humanity this would be a far better world to live in.
Goodbye Karol, the world will miss you.
Goodbye Karol, the world will miss you.
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