Taking The World On With A Smile!

Two years ago this Spring, I stood in a courtroom and read to the judge, the Assistant D.A., the lawyers, the offender, his family and the rest of the court room, a statement outlying the immediate impact the offender’s actions had on our family. Standing by my side was the parole officer assigned to our case. That September, she started a Victim’s Impact Panel in the county I live in. Normally, such panels consist of victims of alcohol related crimes. This new panel is comprised of victims of felony crimes. Twice a year since then, a small group of speakers is assembled at our Police Station’s Community Center to share our stories; what happened and the impact of what happened on our lives. I’ve been asked to speak three out of the four times the panel’s been assembled so far.

What do you do there? Is the audience only criminals? Are the police there?

These are some of the questions my soon to be 11-year-old daughter started asking me last Tuesday when I told her I would be speaking on the Panel again and wouldn’t be able to pick her up from school Thursday.

Well, I said, I tell them what happened and how it affected our family and yes, the audience is just criminals. They’re convicted felons and armed officers are scattered throughout the room.

How come you didn’t go last time? She asked.

 Because Brian was there. I said.

In our case, Brian Quain, was the offender. He’s the young man who’d been breaking into our house repeatedly for more than six months two winters ago. I wasn’t called to the panel last time because protocol says the victim should not speak if the offender is attending.

This is Brian Quain. Our neighbor. After 6-months of not knowing who was invading our privacy & our home, we installed a motion sensor camera that ultimately sent this image to my husband’s email while he was actually in our home.

Did Brian have to go last time?

Yes. I said. It’s mandatory; part of his sentence.

Can children go? She asked.

No.

 Do the criminals get to speak at the panel? 

No. They’re not allowed to speak at all. They can write a question for us on an index card, pass it over to an Officer and we can choose to answer or not answer it. When we’re all done speaking, we leave the room.

The audience members sit three to a table. There’s a questionnaire in front of them that they have to answer before they can leave. The Officers in the room collect them and bring them back to us.

 Then what?

We go to a different room and talk. There’s a person there that helps us work through any hard parts and then we get to look at the questionnaires.

What kind of questions are on the questionnaire? She wanted to know.

Oh, things like, what crime did you commit? Are you paying restitution? Who was affected by your crime? What do you think the impact of your crime was on your victim? Which of the victim’s stories impacted you the most and why and if you had a chance to say something to your victim now, what would it be?

Many members of the audience are “impacted” by my story because of the effects this continuous home invasion had on my children. Apparently, most criminals don’t like it when other criminals mess with children.

Neither do I.

It’s been exactly a year since I spoke on the second panel. This time, I found myself less emotional overall and more thoughtful in my words. I’m less consumed with what happened and more focused on the impact.

I realize now, I have an opportunity to convey a message:

Your misguided, thoughtless, selfish actions have devastating effects on multiple lives. Grown men are left jobless, on medication and fighting insurance companies on a daily basis to cover medical expenses as a result of what you did. Young girls are constantly looking over their shoulders now and making plans to move out-of-state before your release from prison for fear of your return. Families who lived quietly and privately on your street are left with anger and confusion and are torn apart. You have compromised our ability to TRUST.

You DO NOT have the right to mess with people’s lives, especially children’s lives and most especially, MINE.

It-is-NOT-Okay.

And, if I can’t tell Brian Quain directly —  (there’s a five-year Order of Protection against him for each member of my family while he’s on probation) I’ll tell others like him.

And I did.

When I told Brian’s dad he should see the images of his son burglarizing my home he said “Oh, no. I can’t” Really? My children saw them. They didn’t have a choice.

This time on the panel, as I told my story, I passed around theses pictures of our 21-year-old neighbor invading our home. These are the same pictures that were sent via email from the camera we had set up in our living room to my husband’s computer; the pictures my then eight-year-old daughter saw when the police were buzzing through our house the day Brian was arrested coming out of it. These are the pictures Brian’s dad just couldn’t look at when I told him he should see what his son looked like when he was creeping around our home, for months, uninvited.

So much has changed in our lives since and as a result of, what happened.  I don’t hold Brian completely responsible for all that came afterwards. There’s no doubt however that the fracture of our family was in part, collateral damage. The harmony that once resided in our home was disrupted to say the least. The sense of safety we enjoyed there for nearly 17 years, obliterated.

“You can’t let an event in your life define who you are. It’s not what happens to you but what you do, when something happens, that becomes part of your character.”

 These are my words. I keep them on my About page and often revisit them to remind myself of what I believe to be true; to help me to continue to move forward.

To keep moving forward.

Mom? Did Brian have to fill out one of those questionnaires? Hannah asked.

Yes, I said. I’m sure he did. They all have too.

She paused for a minute, slowly looked up at me and said,

Can you see his?

Heart stop.

Can I see his?

The possibility hadn’t occurred to me.

I don’t know.

Why don’t you ask the parole officer if you can? she said.

Heart stop –again. God, I love this child.

Brilliant.

Could I ask? Would I ask? Did I ask?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Before meeting for the panel, I called the parole officer and asked her if it would be possible for me to see Brian’s questionnaire.

Even though Brian Quain didn’t respect our privacy two years ago while he repeatedly ransacked our home, our bedrooms, our closets and drawers, I am going to respect his and not say what the parole officer’s response was or whether I did or didn’t get to read Brian’s questionnaire and find out who he thought was affected by his crime and how or what he would say to us if he had the chance, now.

Related posts: My Edward, Life’s Terms-Not Mine, Unsolicited Journey

Photo Credit #1: Hope

Photo Credit #3: Trust/Google Images

Photo Credit #2, 4 & #5 Karen Szczuka Teich & http://www.takingtheworldonwithasmile. Not to be reproduced or reused without express permission.