Irene Deschênes on Outrage Canada

Author(s): Scott Douglas Jacobsen

Publication (Outlet/Website): The Good Men Project

Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2024/09/05

Irene Deschênes is a survivor of childhood sexual abuse by a roman catholic priest. Irene went to the diocese of London (Ontario) in 1992, and Irene and the diocese engaged in litigation shortly thereafter. Almost 30 years later, Irene received a settlement from the diocese of London in 2021. Irene is a staunch advocate and activist for survivors of clergy sexual abuse. She has worked in social services for most of her adult career, supporting marginalized populations for decades. When yet another case of sexual assault by roman catholic priests comes to light, Irene is known to ask, “Where’s the Outrage?” Irene hopes that those outraged by catholic employees engaging in illicit activities will ask the same question, and that Canadians will be spurred to action. Irene invites all Canadians to be outraged and to use this energy for change in a long-standing institution that has engaged in deceitful acts for centuries.

Outrage Canada is a national, non-religious coalition of outraged Canadians that hold the Roman Catholic church of Canada accountable for ongoing crimes and advocates for all victims of Catholic clergy.

We are committed to ensuring justice for victims, the safety of all children and the prevention of abuse by the Roman Catholic church. 

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: We are here with Irene Deschênes. I’ve been conducting interviews with several people, mostly women who have come forward as victims of clergy-related abuse, primarily within Orthodoxy, as much of the focus has been on the Catholic Church. Could you share your experience, including your denomination? And to clarify, this is happening in Canada rather than the United States, correct?

Irene Deschênes: Yes. I grew up Roman Catholic and was baptized at a very young age. My parents were immigrants who came to Canada in 1959, married, and I am the second oldest of five children. We had a very religious household, attended church every Sunday without fail, and observed all the special times during the church calendar year. I went to a Catholic school and then a Catholic high school got married to a nice Catholic boy and had two children. Would you like me to talk about my memory recovery now?

Jacobsen: Yes.

Deschênes: Okay. My children attended a French first language school because my ex-husband is Francophone. We both wanted them to be raised bilingually, so they went to a French school.

When my daughter was preparing for her First Communion, she would make it with her classmates, and the mass would be in French. However, since my parents didn’t speak French, we decided she would make her First Communion in English so my parents could attend and understand the service. The priest said he would need to talk to my daughter first to ensure she was ready to make her First Communion. So, I took my daughter to meet with the priest, and he chatted with us for a while. Then, during the conversation, he asked if he could speak with my daughter alone.

I said, “No.” I was aghast because I had always been a good Catholic girl and had never said, “No,” to a priest. Here I was in my thirties, saying, “No,” to a priest. That was unsettling, and I didn’t understand why I reacted that way. Nonetheless, my daughter ended up making her First Communion in English.

I was a stay-at-home mom, so we had a typical summer, doing activities with the children, taking them places, and helping them make memories. Then, in September, for the first time, both my kids were in school every day. After dropping them off at the bus stop and returning home, I sat in my living room and started crying uncontrollably. I didn’t know why I was crying or what was happening. Suddenly, a flash of memory overwhelmed me, and I remembered everything the priest had done to me.

I cried and cried, convinced that I was going crazy because there was no way a priest would do that to a little girl. I should talk to a priest about what was happening because, growing up, that’s what I was taught—to go to your parish priest with any problems or concerns. So, I found the old phone book and started making calls, but I couldn’t reach a priest because they’re off work on Mondays since they work on Sundays.

Finally, someone told me, “You need to call the chair of the sexual abuse committee.” I was shocked—there was a sexual abuse committee? How could there be a sexual abuse committee if I was the only one? This was before the Internet, so I truly believed I was the only person whom a Roman Catholic priest had sexually assaulted as a child. I spoke with Father Richard Tremblay, and he asked if I wanted to come in and talk. I said yes.

He invited me to a meeting, so I went to the church, sat in the rectory, and he was there, wearing his collar.

It mimicked the experience I had as a little girl of being sexually assaulted in a rectory by a priest who had his collar on. So, I sat there in the chair and made myself small. I gathered my coat up against my body. Then he asked me the priest’s name, and I said I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say it because this priest had also performed my wedding ceremony.

So, there’s that, and I had known him since I was nine years old. That’s quite a history with someone you think you can trust. So, I couldn’t say his name, and he said, “We want to make sure he’s not still harming little girls.” I shook my head, and he said, “Could you tell me what city it happened in?” And I said, “Chatham. It’s Chatham, Ontario.” He said, “Was it Father Sylvestre?” And I thought they know.They knew. 

It’s him. He’s got a history. He’s done it before. They’re going to take care of me. They will be kind, help me get into counselling, and be there. But the exact opposite happened. They did pay for counselling for me for two years, but I’m still in counselling off and on. Every once in a while, I need a tune-up,  Because the impact is lifelong.

It’s not something that two years of counselling will help you completely work through. It’s a lifelong process—not core recovery but ongoing maintenance, a common experience among those whom priests have abused. Yes, I would say it’s common. Still, some mitigating factors include having family support and receiving adequate counselling in the early years to help work through some of the issues. So, it depends on how quickly you can work through those issues and the level of support one has that makes a difference. 

In the early 1990s, I felt there weren’t any therapists I could find to help unpack that extra layer. Being sexually assaulted as a child is devastating enough, but when it comes from a church leader, there’s another level to it that needs to be unpacked. Therapists weren’t trained in the early 1990s to do that. I found that it wasn’t helpful because the spiritual abuse also needed to be addressed, and there wasn’t training for that in those days. So, that was difficult for me.

I didn’t have any family support or supportive friends at that time. So, in the early years, it was very hard for me, and I sank into a deep depression because I couldn’t find other survivors or anyone else who truly understood what I was going through. That made it more difficult for me. When survivors come forward today, they probably find it easier because it’s been in the news so much. With the advent of the Internet, much more information exists. Survivors can find help more easily these days than 30 years ago. 

Jacobsen: What about recovery resources? You have an email address on the Outrage Canada website. What do survivors of this abuse need at different stages of their recovery process so they can go back into something like a reintegrated life, being successful and being themselves? What do people need regarding resources—not just to report it, watch a documentary, or read a book, but to get the proper support so they can transition back into a culture where they can be their authentic selves? I don’t mean success in having a family, children, a high-powered job, or an education. They still feel comfortable in their skin, living however they choose to live in a free society. The church is part of a community.

Deschênes: I wish I had the cookbook to hand it to folks and say, “Follow these steps. Mix in a little bit of this and a little bit of that.” It’s different for everybody, but for sure, people need to be able to surround themselves with personal and professional support first and foremost. That helps quite a bit. 

That’s what many people gravitate to, especially in their later years when they join the church—to have that sense of community. I didn’t have that. I lost it when I came forward. People in the church didn’t gather around me, put their arms around me, and say, “Irene, we’ll help you through this.” Nobody contacted me from the church. When I left the church, I was all alone. I had lost that community. Community is important. It’s one of our basic needs.

On Maslow’s hierarchy of needs a sense of belonging is one of our basic needs. So, in probably 1993 or 1994, I was watching the Phil Donahue show. One of his guests was Barbara Blaine, and she was the first survivor I ever met.

She was from Chicago, and her phone number came up on the screen at the end of the show, and I called her immediately. She had gone on Phil Donahue and talked about being sexually assaulted by her parish priest. We had long-distance phone call charges back then; she was my lifeline. The only way to communicate with her was by letter or by phone.

So, I did speak with her quite a few times. With other people’s permission, she connected me with other people in Ontario, Canada. But many people weren’t coming forward then, and they weren’t telling anyone, so it was hard to find other survivors. I remember going to my first SNAP conference, the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests, in Chicago in the early 1990s and meeting other survivors. It was a huge sense of relief.

Not being alone—that’s a huge burden to carry alone. So, that was my community for some time. Then I went through the civil suit process, and the diocese gave me some money.

It was attached to a gag order. So, I wrote to the bishop, saying, “I need to be released from this gag order. It’s keeping me sick. I’m keeping a secret that’s not mine to keep.” So, the Diocese of London did release me from my gag order, and the media at the time reported that I was the first person in Canada to be released from a gag order by the church.

Jacobsen: So, after that—after you were released from the gag order—you found out that Phil Donahue is, in fact, alive at 88?

Deschênes: Yes. I’ll have to contact him and thank him. He has no idea how much he’s helped me. After I was released from my gag order, I thought the gag order said I couldn’t tell anyone anything, which was my mistake. It was a rough time, a rough period for me when I had this civil suit hanging over my head. But after I got released from the gag order, I went to the police in Chatham, Ontario, which is where the abuse happened, and I reported him.

So they started a criminal investigation. That’s when almost 50 women came forward. Father Charles Sylvestre was pegged as the most notorious pedophile in all of Canada. He denied everything and said they put us up to it. Then, he started preaching with a little Bible or book at one court appearance. He was preaching to us, and we all said, “Oh my God.”

Anyway, he was sentenced to three years, and then he died a couple of months later in prison. During the criminal trial, I told my lawyer that suddenly, the diocese said they had this police report from 1962—a police report from 1962! I was born in 1961, and they have this police report. These three little girls from Sarnia, Ontario, reported to the police, and suddenly, this police report came out of nowhere.

So, I told my lawyer, “I want to reopen my civil suit because they kept denying and saying, ‘We didn’t know anything about Charlie. Good old Charlie? We didn’t hear a thing about him.'” But they have known since 1962. I’m reopening my civil suit. She said, “You better find yourself a contract lawyer.” So, I got myself a lawyer in Toronto. I said to her, “Can you take my case?” And she said, “We’ll have a look at it.” She’s in a big law firm.

So she said, “We’ll have a look at it.” I told her, “I just came out of a civil suit and a criminal trial. I’m exhausted. I need to move forward with my life.”

“If you need me, call me. Otherwise, do what you need to do,” I said because I was so invested in the first civil suit. I was exhausted and said, “I can’t do this again. You do what you need to do and get back to me.”

So, ten years later—ten years later—she called me. “We’re going to court on Friday.” I was like, “What?” So she had been doing whatever she needed in the background, getting all the legal paperwork and mumbo jumbo in order, talking to the diocese, and having all these conversations with their lawyers. So, we went to the court in London, Ontario, and the judge said, yes, I could reopen my civil suit. That was a victory.

Then, the diocese told the media that they were appealing that decision. So the media called me and said, “What do you think of the diocese of London appealing the judge’s decision?” I thought it cruel they would tell the media before having the courtesy of contacting my lawyer!

They couldn’t call my lawyer to inform them of the appeal. They had to call the media so the media could call me. That isn’t kind.

Jacobsen: Just so people are aware, two points of contact. This one, the first one, is short. How long had you been in legal proceedings?

Deschênes: 30 years.

Jacobsen: Second part. I listen to a lot of fundamentalist preachers and extreme political people because I already know my orientation. So, I want to know what the other side says about these different things. I listen to them. They will say things like “the Jezebel spirit.” What are the biblical and non-biblical insults and epithets thrown at you while pursuing this line of justice? I wouldn’t even say against the church. It’s for the church because it’s in the church’s best interest to weed out the bad clergy and not have the good clergy, who do community service and commit their lives to that, be blanketed with that at the same time in a way.

Deschênes: Yes. I’m doing this for the church, but they’ll never eliminate their brothers in Christ. That’s the pact. They’ll never do it. A few might be whistleblowers, but they’re out of there. They don’t want those guys around.

That’s why the good priests don’t say, “Irene, what happened to you was wrong. It should never have happened. This is what I’m going to do to help you work through this.” Never—no nun, priest, or anyone else in the church ever said that to me. Not even a congregant.

So, not even a peer, let alone starting at the bishop on up to the pope. I’m still waiting for that call. He’s got my number. I gave it to him. There might be good priests in there, but I have yet to meet them. They have never used biblical terms against me. They never publicly said that, and they never privately said that because they have never contacted me.

They went through my lawyer whenever they wanted to message me or say anything. Nobody from the church contacted me in those 30 years. So, no, I didn’t get called Jezebel or anything like that.

It started when I was ten years old. A little weird. Father Sylvestre did say something about those girls with their short skirts sitting on his lap: little girls, little 10-year-old Catholic girls in the sixties, and they wore dresses. Then, sticking out our pink tongues at him when he went to give us communion—he’s the one that sexualized all our very normal activities. At ten years old, I didn’t even know what the fuck sex was.

I didn’t know what it was at 12. I don’t think I fully understood even in high school when they started to talk to us about it. This is a bit of a side point. 

Jacobsen: The sexual education kids received in the sixties, seventies, and eighties was not exactly comprehensive or realistic. So, let’s continue. You’re going through a storm of legal proceedings. What else happens?

Deschênes: So, they appealed that. We went to the Ontario Court of Appeal in Toronto. Both lawyers presented their sides, yada yada. Then, the judges for the Ontario Court of Appeal took months to make their decision. So, you wait again and then they make that decision. They said, “Yes, I can reopen my civil suit.” Then, the diocese’s lawyers appealed to the Supreme Court of Canada. So, I created this group called the Justice for Irene Network, and our message was “Settle with Irene; She’s Tired.”

We would say the church has the right to appeal. But is that the right thing to do? Yes, they had the right to appeal. But anyway, they appealed to the Supreme Court of Canada. That took weeks or months. My lawyer and their lawyers—right, my one lawyer and their three lawyers—went to the Supreme Court of Canada to make their case, and then we waited for the judge’s decision again. Then the judge said, yes, I can reopen my civil suit. So, I won at the highest level of court in Canada.

So, I asked my lawyer, “What’s next?” She said, “We can go to trial, or we can go to mediation.” When folks go to trial, you typically prepare for trial. Still, the trial isn’t scheduled for 18 months, or however long, so you’d have to wait again. Inevitably, what they do is settle the day before the trial starts. So after all those anxious months and weeks of waiting and preparing for trial, the day before, they offer to settle out of court.

I said to my lawyer, “Let’s go to mediation.” This was during COVID, so we were on a Zoom call. This gentleman comes on my screen and says, “Hi, Irene. Nice to see you again.” It was the same mediator from the first civil suit 20 years earlier. So, we started at 10 a.m. went until 9:30 at night. Then the church’s lawyer said, “We’ll pick up again tomorrow morning at 10 o’clock.” So, I had to try to sleep that night, wondering what was going to happen.

Then, around 10:30 in the morning, my lawyer called me and said, “They’ve accepted our last offer.” They wanted me to have one more sleepless night instead of settling right then and there. So that was it—I was done that day. I was 60, and I got my settlement. I publicly thanked them for paying me for all my years of activism and advocacy for other victims.

“Thank you for paying me for the work I’ve done over the last 30 years,” I said, and I promptly retired. Yes, I might be a little tired—very tired. Then, the Justice for Irene group we created to encourage them to do the right thing morphed into Outrage Canada.

We were only incorporated last year, so we’re pretty new. We’re having our first AGM on September 28th. Several survivors contacted us after we circulated the press release announcing our new organization. Typically, they email us so that I could schedule a Zoom call with them. I would have a one-on-one conversation to see where they’re at, what further support they might need, or any direction or words of wisdom I might provide.

After doing this for 30 years, I’m a bit of an expert in the field. Plus, I worked in social services for most of my adult life. My last job was as a residential counsellor at a women’s shelter, so I have some experience in that realm. When people contact me, we will do a Zoom call like this.

It would be about two hours long. “Are you good?” “Yes.” “Are you good?” “Yes.” “Reach out again if you ever need to talk.” Some contact me occasionally, and others I have not heard from again. 

Jacobsen: I did notice you collaborated with Patricia Grell. I’m aware of her because we interviewed in 2017. 

Deschênes: I know what you interviewed about—the school board.

Jacobsen: Correct. I will quote if I indulge. So, in that original interview with Patricia Grell, BSc, MDiv, quoting Grell:

9. Jacobsen: How did you find yourself where you are now in terms of the relationship with the school board or system?

Grell: I would say it all started by taking a degree in theology from St. Michael’s College, Toronto School of Theology.  I am eternally grateful to my professors because they taught me that I didn’t have to put my intellect on hold to have a faith in Jesus and follow Jesus. St. Michael’s College took a historical-critical approach to the Bible, not a literal approach, and an intellectual ‘faith seeking understanding’ approach.

So I came out of university with an intellectual understanding of my faith.  I brought a deep understanding of the historical Jesus and his message everywhere I went. I worked as a Pastoral Associate in a parish in Timmins, as a Program Coordinator in a retreat center and then as a Catholic school trustee.  Each place I worked, I got a glimpse into the Catholic Church behind the scenes and I became more and more scandalized.  [Laughing]. I was scandalized because deep down I had this understanding of the Gospel that was very rooted in the historical Jesus.  And then I would see nuns, priests and so-called devout Catholics not living at all according to the Gospel.

I heard, for example, the archbishop’s representative state to the Board that perhaps Catholic schools are not the place for transgender students.  I saw the school district with the support of the archbishop, deny a transgender girl access to the girls’ washroom, insisting she uses the gender-neutral washroom on the other side of the school.  I saw the resistance by the church to allow GSAs.  All these things led me to conclude that the church had lost its way.

I think working in the school district was the ‘watershed moment,’ where I realized that “Wow! This is a social club. This is not a faith.” These people act as though they belong to a bike club or dance club. They are not together because of their faith in Jesus and his message of love, acceptance, and mercy.  Catholicism, I concluded, had become a social club.

I thought this is not where I can be anymore. I can’t be here. They’re not living what they’re talking about. It’s all window dressing. That’s how it is; it’s all window dressing. We’d have signs in our schools, for example, that state ‘Christ is the reason for this school’ and then we’d go on our merry way and do things that totally contradicted this.

For example, we have an academic high school that requires students to get a 75% average in grade 9 in order to be accepted.  If a Catholic student who lives near this school misses the mark by even 1%, they are not admitted. This student then can’t attend high school with their friends and must travel outside their community because the district can’t make any exceptions for fear of lowering the standards of the school.  To add insult to injury, the academic school will offer any vacant spots to non-Catholic students who do achieve the required average.  The lack of compassion and mercy in the interest of competitiveness seems to fly in the face of “Christ is the reason for this school”.

Another example is the denial of attendance at grad ceremonies if students don’t complete the required amount of the religion curriculum by a particular date.  The School Act in Alberta does not require completion of religion credits in order to earn a high school diploma.  The district then uses attendance at grad ceremonies as the carrot to ensure students complete their religion credits.  It seems odd to me to use coercion as a way to encourage students to learn about Jesus.

I would think that if our Catholic schools were teaching by example, and living according to the Gospel then we wouldn’t have to coerce anybody to take religion; students would want to take religion. They would want to learn about this rebel named Jesus. Teenagers are rebellious anyway! [Laughing]. I think they would really think he’s pretty cool if they could learn about who he was and what he stood for.  You don’t have to coerce someone by saying you must take this or we’re not going to let you come to grad. What kind of example is that? What are we trying to do here?” One of the moms who had a son in high school last year and was concerned about this grad rule, said, “Geez, with the legacy of residential schools, you would think that they wouldn’t be interested in coercing people to take religion through Catholic schools.”

These are publicly funded schools.  I’d rather try to invite kids to be interested in the faith by our example of love and compassion rather than coercion.  We can invite students to learn about our faith by being merciful people.  Students will be attracted to that [Laughing]. So that’s the kind of stuff – that really…I just was disappointed, I was heartbroken… literally heartbroken to see people acting this way in the name of Christ [Sobbing] I’m sorry.

10. Jacobsen: It’s okay.

Grell: [Sobbing/weeping] I guess…I’m still grieving.

11. Jacobsen: It’s okay. Take the time you need.

Grell: It really upset me that we had schools for elite students.  Parents came to a Board meeting when I put forward a motion to request the district make exceptions for Catholic students, to show some mercy and these parents said: “We want our kids to get ready for this competitive world.” I thought, “That isn’t what I thought Christianity or Catholicism was about,” competition.

Anyway, it’s really broken my heart. I’m an honest person. I couldn’t run again to be a Catholic trustee, I might run one day to be a public-school trustee, but I couldn’t in good conscience put my name on that ballot and say, “Yeah, I’m a Catholic school trustee. I want to be a Catholic school trustee.”

No, I don’t want anything to do with this Catholic Church; if Catholic means being like this, sorry, not interested. That’s not what I learned about and learned what Jesus was about at all. So, I must distance myself. Anyway, sorry I got emotional. I guess I didn’t realize I was still this upset. But we’re not then I heard that priest say that our Catholic schools were not for transgender kids, I thought, “That’s it. That’s the last straw.” If that’s what they’re about, I am NOT interested in this church.

I have invested a lot of my life in the Catholic Church; I spent a lot of money on my education. Fifty thousand dollars to get a MDiv. We used to pray for laypeople to come forward in service to the Church. Then I noticed they stopped praying for that. They started praying again for more vocations to religious life and more priests. I remember I saw this shift happening around 1992.  Prior to this, there was a great push to have more lay people educated in theology so they could take leadership roles in the church.  But that approach seems to have fallen by the wayside.

I have spoken with other women, who have left the church and I agree with them when they say:  “I didn’t leave the church, the church left me”.

So, I’m aware of several stories of women who have come forward within religious traditions in Canada and understand the difficulties they have to go through in the limelight. Some men do that, too, but the women’s cases are talked about a little less. So that’s the thing. It’s more to highlights like that and your own.

You’re taking on a juggernaut. If you run the lines of best fit, only about half or a little less than half of the population are Christians today. So they’ve owned the country for about 150 years, approximately. So, I commend her and you for the work that you’re doing.

So, you got paid out. What’s the follow-up? 

Deschênes: To backtrack, I heard Patricia Grell on CBC Radio. I thought that woman would be on my team, and she was. That’s how it goes. 

Jacobsen: That’s how it goes. I hope to do that with interviews like this and people who read them. Don’t fuck up.

Deschênes: Anyway, so, now that I have the financial means, I can start this organization, pay for the website, and pay to have assistance. Do you know Murray Foster?

Jacobsen: No. 

Deschênes: He’s from the Great Big Sea. I paid him to write an anthem for us. It’s called Justice is Coming. Check it out at http://www.outragecanada.ca.

Jacobsen:  He sounds like Dan Barker from the Freedom From Religion Foundation. He makes jingles. He’s a former evangelical preacher and musician.

Deschênes: I have heard of him. This has been great, Scott. Thank you.

Jacobsen: Thank you so much.

Further Internal Resources (Chronological, yyyy/mm/dd):

Historical Articles

Crimes of the Eastern Orthodox Church 1: Adam Metropoulos (2024/01/11)

Crimes of the Eastern Orthodox Church 2: Domestic Violence (2024/01/12)

Crimes of the Eastern Orthodox Church 3: Finances (2024/01/16)

Crimes of the Eastern Orthodox Church 4: Sex Abuse (2024/01/17)

Interviews

Dr. Hermina Nedelescu on Clergy-Perpetrated Sexual Abuse (2024/06/02)

Katherine Archer on California Senate Bill 894 (2024/06/11)

Dorothy Small on Abuse of Adults in the Roman Catholic Church (2024/06/16)

Melanie Sakoda on Orthodox Clergy-Related Misconduct (2024/06/23)

Professor David K. Pooler, Ph.D., LCSW-S on Clergy Adult Sexual Abuse (2024/07/21)

Dr. Hermina Nedelescu & Dorothy Small: Ecumenical Catholic-Orthodox Discourse (2024/07/24)

Professor David K. Pooler, Ph.D., LCSW-S on Consent and Power (2024/08/13)

Press Releases:

#ChurchToo Survivors Call on CA Governor Gavin Newsom (2024/06/09)

License & Copyright

In-Sight Publishing by Scott Douglas Jacobsen is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. ©Scott Douglas Jacobsen and In-Sight Publishing 2012-Present. Unauthorized use or duplication of material without express permission from Scott Douglas Jacobsen strictly prohibited, excerpts and links must use full credit to Scott Douglas Jacobsen and In-Sight Publishing with direction to the original content.