Betraying vulnerable children
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Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 28/05/2002 (8682 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
Winnipeg’s plans for a safe house for child and youth prostitutes have derailed, the result of bureaucratic wrangling, skyrocketing costs and an indifferent public.
Three years after child-rights advocates began clamouring for a refuge for our commercially sexually exploited children — some as young as 11 — little progress has been made. The failure reflects as much our own mealy-mouthed need to ignore the shame of our city as it does the impossibility of plugging the holes in the social safety net.
The bottom line? We’ve betrayed our most vulnerable children.
“Imagine how many youth we could have saved,” says Penny Sinclair, a former sex-trade worker and member of the national group SEYSO (Sexually Exploited Youth Speak Out).
“I’m really frustrated. I think the government is having a hard time realizing the difficulty they’re putting the kids in. This is necessary. We need to help these kids.”
Not so fast, says Family Services and Housing Minister Tim Sale, who calls child prostitution “one of the most complex issues we have.”
A safe house is just one component of an overall plan to help Winnipeg’s street kids, says Mr. Sale, whose department will release a detailed plan of action this summer.
“It is way beyond just a safe house.”
The original safe house seemed tantalizingly close last fall. A $1.5 million, 10-bed safe house was expected to be approved, offering short-term beds for stays of up to 30 days and long-term (up to a year) for kids aged 12-17. The proposed safe house was one of the reasons Winnipeg was singled out for praise in a global report of child sexual exploitation released in November.
But that was then and this is now and the safe house, reincarnated as a shelter offering emergency and longer-term stays, has an $800,000 annual budget and 12.5 staff members. Not included in the price tag is the actual house, which the community groups hoped the city would donate. The plan was to locate the house in an area outside the primary sex trade zones, offer peer mentoring and have a strong aboriginal healing component.
The province recently threw its weight behind another inner city safe house. Ndinawe was given $800,000 to expand and renovate its Flora Ave. house, which serves youths between 11 and 18. They have room for 16 residents — eight boys and eight girls — who stay for an average of three weeks at a time.
The Ndinawe program helps kids with substance abuse problems, gang kids, youth prostitutes and kids who need more permanent homes. Ms. Sinclair says there’s an urgent need to separate street kids and experienced youth.
“They’re putting the street kids in danger,” she says bluntly. “They’re learning things when they’re together.”
“Right now, we’re looking at alternate sources of funding,” says Dr. Elizabeth Adkins, executive director of New Directions. “The Department of Family Services is not going to fund it. We’re looking at the aboriginal healing fund for money, at the Winnipeg Foundation. Without support from the province though, we’re having a difficult time.”
Diane Redsky, director of programs for Ma Mawi, says the search is on for funding. She, too, would like to see money come from the Winnipeg Foundation or the homelessness initiative but admits she wonders how they can come up with $800,000.
Dr. Adkins admits part of the delay is the fault of the multiple groups who have years of negotiating responsibility, arguing over territory and budgets.
But the tragedy isn’t that various well-meaning groups couldn’t work in sync to make this safe house happen. It’s not even that the provincial government had to make a Solomon-like choice and decided to use available funds for Ndinawe. It’s not even that there are only 16 beds available at the one safe house that was recently funded.
The tragedy is this: We know and do nothing. We only need to open our eyes to see prepubescent girls being sold or traded on our streets and we do not protest. This may not be a government issue, but it is a moral issue.
How much longer can we stand silent as these broken children seek and fail to find safe shelter?
lindor.reynolds@freepress.mb.ca