A Hand Through the Hallway

by Rayna Sutherland

How do we understand our criminal justice system? Conceptually and in terms of who it serves, but equally in how we experience it and make sense of its mechanics. How do you explain to someone sobbing on the phone that you can’t discuss the facts of what happened to them because disclosure obligations mean that information could later be disclosed in ways they never intended? How do you explain to a victim why they’re waiting in a small witness room because a voir dire has delayed the trial? How do you meet someone as a person, at a deeply challenging point in their life, within the broader reality of a system marked by mechanical processes, procedural constraints, and unpredictable timelines?

I can’t speak to the specifics of the cases I’ve worked on, but the abstraction feels fitting. Often, navigating the system feels like walking blindly through a dark hallway, one hand on the wall, trying to make sense of the purpose behind each step, each tangible moment, each procedural turn. For many victims, the justice system feels just like this.

I’ve sat on the phone explaining the cycle of court: the procedural rhythm of trial, the arc from first appearance to sentencing. It can feel ritualistic—rinse, repeat—modified by the missteps and detours each case takes. But explaining it to a woman who must decide whether to testify against her partner in an intimate‑partner violence context, grounds the process in someone’s lived reality. Procedure becomes personal.

The Crown Witness Coordinator (CWC) Program is one example of attempting to bridge the gap between communities and the justice system, particularly for victims of violent crimes such as intimate partner violence and sexual assault. In the territories, the program informs victims of their rights and responsibilities under the Canadian Victims Bill of Rights and assists with trial preparation. More personally, while Crown Prosecutors represent the public rather than the victim, the CWC program provides someone who can walk the process with them. It offers someone who can explain the legal system in a way that meets people where they are, call with updates and take time to translate legalese, ensure cultural and personal concerns are heard, and pursue testimonial aids to make the experience less daunting.

I’ve squeezed the hand of a victim and given her my blazer before she took the stand. I’ve gorged on cake and ice cream with youth during court breaks. I’ve reviewed Victim Impact Statements in prison with victims who are now incarcerated themselves. I’ve tried to bridge the gap between how a judge reasons a case under the law and how someone understands their own reality and sense of justice.

People hold a spectrum of views about the criminal justice system. But having someone who can humanize you, hold your hand, and help you make sense of a complex—and often retraumatizing—process is something everyone deserves.