Unseen Victims was recommended to me by a member of ‘the Knock’ community.
Author Emma has lived experience of supporting her ex, Robert, through trial by jury, a conviction for sexual offences, and subsequent custodial sentence.
Whilst the suffering of primary victims and survivors is well-documented and acknowledged, the pain of family members of those accused of such crimes is only beginning to be understood. And there is – by all accounts – a lot that needs to be understood by society. In truth, any of us could find ourselves in a situation beyond our imagination or control.
When a loved one enters the criminal justice system, there really is no roadmap. The emotions are all-consuming and it’s possible that you will face the journey alone, or with little or no support. Unseen Victims offers practical, insightful guidance on a number of topics, including:
~Children in prisons
~Social Services
~Finding work after prison
~Deaths and illness in prison
Each topic has its own chapter including one entitled ‘The Nasty Bag’. This is how Emma refers to the bag that a loved one must take to court with them. As well as practical suggestions for inclusion in the bag (don’t pack expensive branded items, make sure you label everything with your name or initials), Emma alludes to personality traits that anyone facing the prospect of prison should make sure to take in with them:
‘a sense of humour · a strong stomach · the knowledge that they are loved · determination · resilience · integrity · compassion · inner strength · decency · and most important of all, hope.’
There is also essential advice for coping with the run-up to a court hearing, as well as plenty of tips for helping people to cope with having a loved one in prison.
‘If you can, use your last months, weeks, and days to make happy memories, it is far easier said than done but these moments will become invaluable in assisting with your lower times throughout the duration of the prison sentence handed down, especially in the first few days, weeks, and months.’
Emma was called for jury duty just fifteen months after Robert’s trial. I can only imagine how difficult that would have been and how triggering for someone still living with the fallout of the trauma.
‘I found myself witnessing a fight for supremacy of being elected the coveted role of jury foreman, on this occasion it was bestowed upon the strongest alpha female, not an alpha male, as was the case in Robert’s trial.‘
‘This stirred a memory of leaving court on day 2 of his trial and this person (the appointed jury foreman) had mouthed “you fucking nonce” at Robert from his car. This was duly reported to Robert’s barrister the following day for us only to be informed that “nothing could be done about it”. That was, in fact, a complete lie and the incident should have been reported to the court clerk and immediately found the member removed from the jury selection.’
Emma’s experience also includes some positive elements, as she discovers answers to questions of external self awareness:
‘I had often wondered what the jury members must have thought of me sitting there alone supporting a person accused of such wicked crimes. Today I answered my own curiosity, I had no idea who she was or why she was sitting there…’
This is a salient point for family members because unless it’s expressed directly, we have no real idea of what people think of us, or indeed who else in society has gone thorough or is currently going through something similar. So, we become hypervigilant to the (real or perceived) opinions and views of others.
Emma offers insightful dissection of jury service and opens up broader debate around the suitability of juries to conduct impartial service in contemporary times. There is also discussion around the appeals process; how it works, and who is seeking to benefit from it.
Emma discusses the issue of media intrusion into the lives of both those in the public eye, and of citizens who have no relevance to the public. She questions what constitutes public interest and how this matter is interpreted in whatever way suits the media narrative especially in terms of private citizens who bear the brunt of any backlash.
It seems as though the interpretation of public interest is broad and undefined when it comes to which cases are covered by media. Certainly, my experience being part of the Knock community for over three years has shown me that there seems to be an element of ‘pot luck’; whether there is a reporter in court, what else is going on in court that day etc.
‘Until an innocent bystander is placed in this truly awful position, they have absolutely no idea how utterly destroying it can be and the well-used phrase “today’s news is tomorrow’s chip wrapper” does very little to console someone who sees a headline for the first time involving the person that they know and love.’
Emma makes a brilliant point, and one that is often overlooked judging by the selection of media reports served up on a daily basis.
‘The public interest is in having a safe, healthy and fully functioning society.’
Rarely is risk to the public considered where the random nature of court reporting is concerned. The safety of family members, especially children, is considered even less frequently.
It’s refreshing to see discussion around the danger that family members are placed into when addresses are reported, and when media court reports carry sensationalised headlines. This is done to generate income for organisations. Whole lives are reduced to ‘clicks’, ‘likes’ and ‘engagement’.
It was a point that was not lost on me, as I liaised with everyone possible, IPSO included, prior to publication of my children’s father’s court case.
I did everything in my power to alert authorities that five children were being placed into danger of community and vigilante violence, and to avoid having to flee our home (there were indeed active vigilante gangs in the area and someone had been beaten up recently by a gang and there was an arson attack on another family’s home a year or so after we left). Even with letters from the GP and their schools to keep my children from the glare of the media nobody was listening. They were ultimately identified by a rare surname and the printing of our home address. I was left alone to make some very difficult decisions in order to safeguard them.
‘On occasion media intrusion can encourage vigilante mobs to form due to the home address of the person being included in news reports. These gangs are often made up of local community members and have been known to launch physical attacks on the homes and loved ones of those jailed. It isn’t unheard of for them to stoop to posting envelopes of excrement, which they have set alight, through the letterboxes of the person jailed.’
Emma has advice for anyone who finds themself in this harrowing situation:
‘You cannot prepare yourself and ignoring it is best practice, especially any comments that are posted. But that is far easier said than done. Social media around this time should be tightened as keyboard warriors are on red alert and this is their time to shine.’
I read Emma’s account of her experience of media intrusion with increasing horror. Robert’s case was featured in an ITV police documentary. Something neither Robert nor Emma had any say over. Despite Emma’s best attempts (her case was escalated to Ofcom), there was nothing that could be done – the documentary was aired and she was identified as Robert’s partner, and just expected to carry on with her life as normal in the wake of it all, completely unsupported by any agency.
Finding herself alone with a bottle of brandy and pills, Emma came close to ending her life. This feeling of desperation is sadly relatable.
Emma contacted the police commissioner’s office and made a complaint and it seems that there had been inaccurate internal communication to suggest that Emma has consented to taking part in the documentary. Completely untrue, of course.
‘Once again the apologies were forthcoming but that did not detract from the fact that I could have left my children without a mother, I was livid by now and now hell bent on punishing the lying bastards for what they had done to me.’
Lives are devastated by media intrusion. My children and I had to flee our home, change our names and lose everything. Financially, we continue to experience impacts three years on. Our address was shared online by vigilantes. My children’s father & I were well-known in the small town we lived in, and I was terrified of repercussions for my children. The state didn’t care and failed to keep us safe. Police advised me to move away, just like that, with the children (which is what I had to do).
I can only imagine the hell that Emma must have gone through, with having to deal with an ITV documentary on top of everything else. Where is the protection for innocent family members in a society that loves to incite hatred?
‘To find yourself sitting alone, scared for your life in an empty home with very little by way of support is possibly one of the worst things that any person can go through in their life. But as time goes by you adapt, you get stronger, and you simply learn to deal with the situation.’
There are few things in society more terrifying than the prospect of entering the criminal justice system as one who has been falsely accused. It’s a huge topic and I won’t be able to begin to cover it here. My own experience was one of supporting a loved one who was guilty of the crimes he was accused of and that was bad enough. To imagine going through the whole ordeal with the additional burden of innocence is just, unthinkable. Not that the impacts on families differ; whether a loved one is guilty or not, the fallouts are immense. But there is something just so sickening, distressing and harrowing reading the stories where people are innocent.
There are excellent contributions by SW Parker and Dr Michael Naughton detailing some of the nuances of falsely accused cases, with both contributors opening up thought-provoking discussion. We also learn about the vitally important work of FASO and FACT in supporting the falsely accused.
There are the utterly perplexing cases too, such as the woman who reported to police that she had been raped by a werewolf.
‘Some four months were spent having specially trained officers investigating the alleged incident before it came to light that the complainant had taken hallucinogenic drugs and suffered from poor mental health before they stopped looking for the offending werewolf. Due to the way in which the police record incidents of rape, this case, and many others in similarity remain crime statistics for that year, regardless of the ridiculousness of the claims.’
There are heartbreaking, terrifying, devastating, shocking, bewildering stories. I was captivated; each one touched my heart in a unique way and I highly recommend that you read them for yourself; Sophie, Joan, Anne-Marie, Claire, Jean, Lorna, Eve, Annie, Simon, Sean, Jack, Emma, Barnett Survivor’s Ltd (Mark Pearson).
This is a comprehensive, insightful, meaningful book. Not only an essential read for those entering the criminal justice system and their loved ones, but for wider society as well.
We are each touched by these issues in some way, somehow, and to suggest that we are not is to deny our humanity.
The way to understand and indeed prevent some of the issues discussed is not to ignore them. Instead, we must engage with them in the way that Emma and her co-contributors bravely encourage.
My name is Annie Hope. I am a writer with lived experience as a family member of someone who had the Knock. I am a professional writer, and I am able to work with your organisation, charity or with you as an individual in a variety of different ways. Please have a look at my website to find out more.
I also run a free writing group for family members of those who are convicted of sexual offences. You can find out more about the group here. You can find blog posts with free advice about writing and helpful tips in my main blog index here.
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