Tuesday 16 September 2014

sometimes speaking from the heart is the easiest hard thing to do.

Today was the 6th anniversary of the Children's Advocacy Center here in St. Catharines...sorry - make that the Kristen French Children's Advocacy Center - as today not only were they celebrating a birthday, but also a name change...a pretty important one in my eyes. If you aren't familiar with what they do I copied this from their webpage: "the Centre serves Niagara’s 12 municipalities, helping children and families cope with the life altering impact of child abuse. CACN’s partners are Niagara Regional Police Service, Family and Children’s Services Niagara, Family Counselling Centre Niagara and medical professionals."  It is the first dedicated facility of its kind in Canada and it has served thousands of children in the Niagara Region since it first opened its doors. I had the very special honour of being one of the speakers at todays event, having been a close friend of Kristen's in highschool. She was my best friend and I still love her dearly. 

When I originally started thinking about what I wanted to say it was hard; not emotionally, I have always been open to speaking about Kristen...but more so because I didn't quite see the connection at first - aside from the obvious contributions from the French Family on the original committee when the center opened.  As I thought more about what I wanted to say, and started putting words on paper, in particular one thought that kept rolling around in my head it became clear to me that this name change made perfect sense. Bear with me and I will try to get it out....The center is a place for children to come to feel safe, to share what happened with the people who are trained to help put these kids lives back together after unspeakable abuse, victimization, or witness to these things. As a parent, we do everything we can to keep our kids safe - or we are supposed to anyways. At some point we need to let them go to spread their wings - we let them walk home from school, ride their bike around the block, head out with friends for the evening, even just having a play date with a friend is part of that letting go. We arm them with the tools to make the right decisions - we hope - and trust them that they will do so. No matter how hard we try, or how well we teach them, bad things sometimes happen. We could not keep Kristen safe from physical harm. Not me, or any of her other friends, her devoted boyfriend, or her very close-knit and loving family. That is something that the people closest to her no doubt go over again and again again - the what ifs - I know because I still think about it almost every day. But what Kristen did have was unwavering strength, and faith. Her spirit was unbreakable and even if we can't keep the kids who come through the center doors safe from physical harm, her name will serve as a reminder to build their spirit up to give them the tools to cope, heal and move forward. That there even needs to be a center like this is heartbreaking...how can anyone hurt a child...but we are so lucky that we have this service and I truly believe it is making a difference in many lives. I am going to include what I had written for today's ceremony:

 When we were kids, we were immortal. We would live forever and nothing bad could touch us. In all the conversations we had about our futures, even our most whispered and intimate, the possibility of either of us not making it past highschool never entered our minds. I didn't realize until I was older that the idea or the truth of immortality lies in what we leave behind -  not in how long we live. It is because of the memories, the people who knew her, and the community who embraced her as their own, that Kristen will live forever.

Kristen's name is synonymous with the idea of community. We all know it takes a village to raise a child, and our village came together when we lost one of our own. 

Kristen's name is synonymous with serenity, as it graces various peaceful settings throughout the city, from her memorial bench in Port Dalhousie, to the Green Ribbon Trail, and her monument in Jaycee Gardens.

Now Kristen's name will be synonymous with the feeling of safety. For the countless children who are helped by the advocacy center each year, may her name be one they think of in troubled times, as a place they can come to find peace. I know that for myself, I have never stopped calling on her when I need advice, or just to feel comfort from one of  my dearest friends. 

We know that by all accounts, Kristen never stopped fighting. No one could touch the one thing that made her uniquely  - her - and that was her spirit. It is this part of her that lives on even though she is no longer with us in body. Having her name on this building is a reminder to every child who comes through its' doors that they too have one thing that they get to keep, that cannot be broken or taken away. 

I know Kristen would accept this honour with great humility and grace. Thank you for allowing me to share in that honour on her behalf.


It truly was a great honour being a part of the ceremony today. Being amongst her family, who have always made me feel a part of them, speaking to people who saw a need in the community and made something wonderful happen, and mostly just remembering. We don't ever get over something like this, but we do process it differently as we get older. The grief matures but never fades - it becomes a part of us. My life was changed not for what happened to Kristen, but from knowing her. <3

If you would like to make a donation to the Kristen French Advocacy Center, or volunteer please visit their website here. If you know of or suspect a child is being abused please call 911 if the child is in imminent danger or go here to make a report.