This story was sent to me by one of my Youtube viewers and is her account of her personal experience with the CAS. She has given me permission to publish it, but would like to remain anonymous. The name of the author’s hometown has been omitted since this was quite a prominent case and this could possibly reveal her identity. The following is her testimony:
This topic is supremely painful for me therefore I try to avoid it, even when I should be speaking out.
Let me testify as to what happened when I was made a ward of the CAS. First of all, we were living in a small Northern mining town, and I was being sexually abused as well as physically battered at home. I showed up at school in a visibly battered condition one time too many. I was ashamed of my bruises etc, and had taken to skipping school and hiding in the woods all day, even in the frigid Northern winter, but some days I ended up class whether I wanted to be there or not. So, this one day, as the schoolday was ending, my teacher stopped me on my way out of class and said she needed to talk to me. Would I meet her in the seminar room? Unsuspecting, I innocently obeyed. A few minutes later, she arrived with the principal, the head nurse from the local clinic, and a woman I had never seen before. Immediately they became threatening and abusive. I was informed that the stranger was a CAS worker named Ellen Greene, who had flown up from Winnipeg, that I would be accompanying her back to Winnipeg that day, that i would not be returning to (author’s hometown), and if I chose not to co-operate (I had no reputation for rebelliousness so the threat was uncalled for), that they would hold me down, forcibly inject me with drugs, and then I WOULD co-operate. I was taken to my home where I was ordered to go in, speak to NO ONE, go directly to my room, pack my smallest suitcase and be back out of the house in 5 minutes. We took the plane to Winnipeg, where I was immediately placed in a locked ward for disturbed children and given hypnotic sedatives by force. These caused severe damage to my motor skills. I began veering into walls etc, passing out suddenly, etc, etc. I was taken out of the hospital one day by the CAS worker who took me to see a fat middle-aged lesbian doctor, who brutally masturbated me while telling me what a slut I was. I had just turned 13 and aside from an incident of rape, and the sexual abuse at home, was not sexually active. The leers exchanged between doctor and CAS worker afterwards told me that this was a filthy routine, that I had basically just been prostituted to the doctor by the CAS worker. After 30 days “observation” in which my person and my dignity were insulted at every turn, while they continued to pump me with more drugs than my body could withstand, I was picked up again by the worker, and taken to the first of 2 group homes. As soon as I was left there, the other girls descended upon me and beat me up, then divided my meager belongingsd amongst themselves. WHILE THE GROUP PARENT STOOD IN THE DOORWAY, ARMS FOLDED, LOOKING ON WITH A STRANGE SMILE ON HIS FACE! I soon ran away from that group home (no easy feat because we were kept in lockdown like criminals!) and sought sanctuary at my grandmother’s house, as she lived in Winnipeg. In no time at all Ellen Green was there with the police and I was dragged screaming for help from my grandmother’s house. Taken to a second group home where the abuse sharply escalated, where I was in fear for my life, and where I was told that if I failed to comply, they would drive me out to a friend’s house in the country and I WOULD NEVER BE SEEN AGAIN!!! Over and over, I was told I was going to end up a prostitute in the gutter with a needle sticking out of my arm. Finally, in terror for my life, I ran away, and skipped the border into the USA. I did have to sleep my way across the country to get to California but by then I had been reduced to nothing and I told myself I was doing it to get away from a fate worse than death, that i was doing it to save myself. besides, as a 13 year old girl on the run, saying no wasn’t an option. If i was a stuck-up little bitch and declined to put out, some sense was quickly beaten into me. I somehow survived several years on the streets, and it was often bad; but no matter how bad it got, I kept telling myself it was better than being at home, or being a ward of the CAS.
In 1996 I got a lawyer and tried to take the fuckers on. They had conveniently destroyed all records.
I just turned 51. I have a grade 8 education (thanks to what they did to me), am on Disability, have spent fully half of my life homeless, and suffer from Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and Hashimoto’s Disease. I live in Vancouver where once a poor person pays rent there is nothing left for food. I am constantly battling suicidal despair, but I am a tough old bird, who doesn’t want THEM to win.
I am also a former Internet “celebrity” who had “fans” who were always telling me how great I was, while I continued to starve. It’s a funny old world. I am also a former activist who is watching the current world developments with intense interest. i am hoping that when the people take back what has been taken from them, that old fighters like me will be compensated for everything we were forced to endure, while “good people” looked on and did NOTHING.
I have not told you this for sympathy. I want you to have this info. Nobody else but my former lawyer has heard my testimony. Nobody else gives a shit. I hope you will be further galvanized by my testimony. As a footnote I will tell you that I proferred the olive branch to my family a few years ago. My Mother and Stepfather are both old now, and my Dad is bitterly sorry for what he did to me. My Mother remains in cheerfully righteous denial. I forgive them both. They are both elderly cancer survivors, and I do not want them to go to their graves with the burden of unforgiveness. You see, despite everything they did to destroy my life, i love my parents.