Uncover - S10 "The Village 2" E3: Cassandra

Episode Date: July 3, 2021

Cassandra Do comes to the Village, trying to escape discrimination back home. When Cassandra pursues sex work to finance her transition, she finds herself part of a community targeted by the Toronto police. Note: If you're in crisis or just looking for someone to talk to, try the Trans Lifeline’s Hotline — a peer support phone service run by trans people for trans and questioning folks: CAN [phone] or US [phone] For transcripts of this series, please visit: https://www.cbc.ca/radio/podcastnews/the-villiage-season-2-transcripts-listen-1.6076988

My name is Ian Urbina. I've reported on some pretty mind-blowing stories, but nothing like what happens at sea. If they got within 800 meters, that is when we would fire warning shots. Murder, slavery, human trafficking, and staggering environmental crimes. Men have told me that they've been beaten

with stingray tails, with chains. If you really want to understand crime, start where the law of the land ends, the outlaw Ocean. Available now on CBC Listen and everywhere you get your podcasts. This is a CBC Podcast. Cassandra likes to go to fetish parties and the goth bars. That crowd there is just much more accepting. Anything goes there

basically so she feels more at home. They're more comfortable with the people there. Cassandra Doe and her friend Trang are walking down Queen Street West in Toronto. They walk past a bouncer through a huge set of ornate doors. The sign above says, The Velvet Underground. Inside, there's a small group of people dancing to house music. Strobe lights are blasting. There's lots of black clothes, metal chains. Very late 90s industrial vibe. And Cassandra is in the middle of it all.

I didn't know that there was that many men that are attracted to transsexual until I moved to Toronto. And it was very nice because I felt like I'm not a freak anymore. There's actually people out there that find myself attractive. She's wearing a black, low-cut lace top. Tight jeans and heels. Her bangs are neatly trimmed just above her eyes. Her long black hair falls neatly

down her back. Honestly, she's gorgeous. She looks really genuinely happy. I think most people in the public, when they look at me, see someone maybe attractive and maybe a little bit different. These interviews, complete with the cheesy music, were done for a reality TV show called Skin Deep. This is 2001, just a few years before Allura Wells would come out and hit the streets of Toronto. While I was waiting for answers from the Toronto Police Service

about Allura's death, Cassandra's story was one I really wanted to dig into. Hers is a story that can tell us a lot about the reality that Allura faced. I grew up in Vietnam. I moved here when I was eight. I think growing up, I didn't know that I was really different until I was getting about 14 or so.

That's when I knew there was something different about me. The show was all about plastic surgery. It tried to explore why people sought to remake their appearance. Cassandra is featured in this episode because she's getting rhinoplasty, or a nose job, for the second time. You might turn on this kind of show and expect something superficial, but Cassandra's story was something very different. Growing up, when I look at myself in the mirror, I just felt very sad and confused.

It was very upsetting that I see someone that looks male, and I didn't feel that way. I used to get dressed up when my parents would go away or something, and I never went and gave much thought about it until when I got a little bit older and realized that most boys don't play dressed up the way I was. It was very difficult in high school. I was teased, they make fun of and I guess I was very much of a loner. I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere, I didn't fit into any special group or anything. I don't think I realised that I was transsexual until I was about 16. That's when I realized that I was attracted to men, but I wasn't like other gay men.

I didn't want to be male. I felt female. And when I first dressed up out in public, it was a very scary experience for me just because I wasn't sure what people's reactions were like and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be feeling and it was not a very good experience for me. When I showed up to work as a female, things were okay for the first couple of days but after that it went downhill from there. Cassandra had been working in a nursing home in Kitchener, just west of Toronto, as a nurse's aide.

When I first got hired at the nursing home, I believed that I was a caring human being, that I was qualified for the work. It was never my appearance that was in question. It was only after I came out of being transsexual that they questioned my quality of work. I've never had any complaint prior to them suspending me from the nursing home. I was a drag queen, I was a faggot, and I was a freak. And they couldn't wait to get rid of me.

My name is Justin Ling. This is The Village. What got me picketing in front of the nursing home is because I knew that they were trying to fire me from work, and that was my only income. The show cuts to a picture of Cassandra standing next to her nursing home. She's holding a handwritten sign that reads, Unfair to Transsexuals. And I knew it was wrong what they're doing, and they know it's wrong, but they're getting away with it,

and it was just very hurtful, you know. A newspaper article flashes across the screen. It's a profile of Cassandra by the local paper. Doe is aware that she is vulnerable to public attitudes that could even be life-threatening, it reads. She has been warned by her landlady not to let other tenants see her. Cassandra told the paper that, quote, The owner of the nursing home who fired Cassandra told the paper that she was a, quote, disgruntled employee who wants to make headlines.

Her firing had nothing to do with her being transgender, he said. In the same interview, however, the owner calls Cassandra a sick lady. It was a dark time for Cassandra. It was very, very difficult for me. And my boyfriend broken up with me then. And my parents didn't want anything to do with me. I felt like I had nothing to live for and I seriously wanted to end my life. And it was only after failing to do so that I moved to Toronto and wanted to get away from everything that was hurting

me. And I felt that Toronto would be a much more understanding and accepting place. So Cassandra came to Toronto. That's where she found places like the Velvet Underground. She found community. She found friends like Monica Forrester. Well, I knew Cassandra before she transitioned in 1989. We were all going to Isabella and Young. It was a big gay after hours. I think Monica is remembering comrades. Unlike many other gay bars in the village at the time, comrades welcomed women.

It could be really difficult to find spaces that welcomed trans women even in the village. I knew her when she was 19. She was the most loving person. She was tiny as hell. She was under almost five foot but she had a voice I'll tell you. She was she knew how to stand her ground. Cassandra was learning that Toronto might not have been as open and accepting as she expected. When I first moved to Toronto, I very much wanted to get back into nursing. I'd call and apply for many places for work. And the response is, oh yes, we're hiring, please come by, we need someone

to work soon. And when I show up because of my appearance, right away I was told that, oh, we've already hired somebody or we will call you and they never end up calling me back. And I hope that one day my appearance would be acceptable to the public so that I could get back into nursing. That sentiment, that her appearance has to be acceptable to the public, is so heartbreaking. Cassandra wanted to get her degree and be a nurse. She wanted to help people. I think I'm looking forward to getting back into nursing because I think people can look at me and say I see a female instead of what they saw before, which is a young man who's struggling trying to be female. And I think the more feminine I look and the surgery that I've had has helped me achieve that.

In the 90s, the health care system put up these huge medical and bureaucratic barriers to transitioning. If Cassandra wanted to change the gender on her ID, she would need what was then called sex reassignment surgery. To receive that surgery, she would need to be diagnosed as experiencing gender dysphoria. In Toronto in the 90s, there was only one place to get that diagnosis, the gender identity clinic at the city's psychiatric hospital. They were the gatekeepers of who got surgery and who didn't. One of the first steps? Cassandra would need to live and work for two full years as a woman. That, without the benefit of any of the surgery that would actually help her live in her true gender. And sex workers like Monica were regularly turned away from even the early stages

of transitioning, like hormone therapy. I just felt like I didn't feel safe living as a woman without hormone therapy, because at that time, there was so much transphobia and violence towards trans people. For me to walk down the street without any, you know, to be without electrolysis and all this stuff, which I couldn't pay for at the time, you know, it was really setting me up for failure and setting me up for violence. I did my hormone therapy through the streets. And that's really just the start of it. The wait lists were miserably long.

There was a lack of qualified therapists. There was all sorts of regulatory hoops you had to jump through. And just trying to navigate this system was like a part-time job. And these procedures were essential for many trans people, both for their own happiness and so they could get hired or rent an apartment. For Cassandra, she felt like she needed this in order to go to nursing school and to get back to work and she was determined as hell to get it done started with electrolysis on my face and i'm just finishing with laser because

laser is a lot less painful a lot quicker when i started started taking female hormones and getting my breasts done, that made me very happy just because I felt I should have had it all along. I should have been female all along, that I shouldn't have been male. But for her, she had her first boob job done in a hotel room. What's that big hotel by the train station? The Royal York. A doctor came in and did her breast in a hotel room. Because back then, you know, it was just easier, it was cheaper.

And I'm not saying these things are wrong. We do what we have to do, right? We want to pass, we want to live in the gender we want to live in. But due to obstacles, pushes want to live in the gender we want to live in, but due to obstacles pushes trans women in various unsafe areas. Although Canada has universal health care, many aspects of transitioning were not covered. What's worse, in the 90s, the province even stopped paying for sex reassignment surgery altogether. It stayed that way for a decade. surgery altogether. It stayed that way for a decade. This all meant that people like Cassandra would often have to pay for tens of thousands of dollars of procedures out of pocket.

You know what I mean? In the early 90s, there was still a lot of, there's still today, but there was so much discrimination towards trans people that she had to do sex work to survive. You know what I mean? I know the story is starting to sound familiar. Allora, Monica, Layla, Cassandra. But there's a reason why these women ended up in sex work. When society is constantly putting up barriers, it's a way to earn a living. Cassandra used the money she earned to transition. She also sent money back to her family.

And on the stroll, it didn't take long for Cassandra to make a name for herself. My name is Jace Cole. My pronouns are they and them, and I identify as genderqueer, non-binary, and pansexual. Jace Cole, who had just come to the village as a young queer kid, remembers seeing Cassandra for the first time. It really stuck with them. And I just remember her being so stunning and exuberant. For me, in my early 20s, and still contending with what gender identity meant to me, and really not having access to the kind of language that I do today.

I do remember after seeing her that I felt the confidence to start addressing very differently and exploring my gender representation in more bold ways. Rhonda, who worked in the same neighborhood, was totally smitten with Cassandra from the first time they met. It was an unlikely friendhood. She made such an impact. And I was to tell her how beautiful she was, because she was just beaming full of beauty. And she's like, no, girl, you're beautiful. I'm like, nah, man. No, sweetheart. You're like, I just try to be like you. Like, where did you get your outfit? Like, where did you get those boots, girl?

Like, can you teach me how to walk? It was just, she was breathtaking. The pair of them spent a ton of time at Sneakers, a bar not far from the village that was kind of like Cheers, but for the stroll. It's a place you can go where people weren't afraid to be themselves. The jukebox was my favorite because they played everything from hip hop to rap. I would play like Monica, a little bit of Amanda Perez, because I really loved Angel back then.

It was the best. The music was the best. It wasn't even the music. It was just the people. On the stroll, it was like a village just outside the village. It was vibrant. It was vibrant. It was loud. It was crazy. You had different ages of girls, boys, men. For the most part, everybody had each other's back. Everybody was looking out for each other. So it was very, it was kind of like a family without being a family. It's like if somebody didn't like you, they'd tell you, but, you know, deep down, you know, they liked you. You know, if something happened, they want to make sure you're okay. It didn't matter.

Cassandra and Monica knew all too well what it meant to be criminalized. Thank God I only went to jail once, but she must have been in jail a dozen times. And back then, without surgery, Cassandra would have been sent to a men's prison. Cops really, they nickel and dimed the sex workers back then. They put us in jail a lot. There was police officers that would take our money. They would take our money. There was a police officer that targeted a lot of our more women of colour or we had a migrant community, people that were refugees or applying for status. We had a cop, I don't

want to say his name, but he demanded sex from them. He even tried to get sex out of me. You know what I mean? You had police that were either really nice, that understood that they couldn't really do too much because you maybe weren't supposed to be standing where you're standing. But there was a lot that were asked you. They would asked you. They would ticket you.

They would run your name through the system, see if there's anything going on. Just always come around. So when you're trying to work, you can't work because, you know, the police are there. So you're like standing there being harassed. You're like, I'm just trying to make my money. I'm just trying to, you know,

hurry up and get in, get out. So, you know, you'd hear the stories of, oh, there's an undercover, be careful. So when they're undercover, I mean, are they posing as Johns? Yes. Yes. Yeah, it's scary. No matter what, it's scary. You're, you're, you got to trust your instincts. I mean, you really just got to hope that you're going to be okay. And in your view, like how good was Cassandra at that? Well, see, I know she was doing really well. She seemed like the money was indoors.

But that's where everybody at that time was doing it. It seemed safer. I worked at a newspaper called iWeekly. This is Leslie Miller. iWeekly was a long-time alt-weekly newspaper. There's an adult section in the back where, you know, it was all adult ads, right? I actually became the number one rep there because all of the girls really loved me because I treated them with respect and dignity and because they deserved that, right?

So I knew Cassandra because she, you know, was coming in regularly to change her ad or pay for her ad. But she was always very sweet, very nice, you know, very polite. And, you know, I thought she was a very considerate person. This is the early 2000s. The laws on the books meant that even if you could advertise your services, it was illegal to actually get paid for them. It was also illegal to actually get paid for them. It was also illegal to hire a bodyguard or a driver,

which are core ways that sex workers protect themselves from bad clients. So some people flouted the laws. One thing they don't have in Toronto is what happened in Ottawa. In Ottawa, I worked for a driving service for a number of years, and we were kind of like an underground

taxi service and all of our clients were exclusively escorts, massage girls or dancers. And so when I would pick up an escort and bring her to wherever it was, I would wait for her in the parking lot and then they would tell the client, my driver's right outside, he's waiting for me. So that would kind of give them a little bit of a safety but one time i was i was waiting in the parking lot and a girl called me and said you know this guy's getting rough with me and and he won't let me leave so i went up there and i bashed the door and the guy came to the door and i fucking gave him a shove and he fell down on the ground and i grabbed the girl and we went to the elevator and escaped, right?

Fortunately, though, in all the years I was in that business, that was the only one time that I had to actually intervene to do something to ensure somebody's safety, right? Most sex workers weren't as lucky to have someone like Leslie. For many, like Cassandra, you just had to rely on your ability to screen clients over the phone. Her friends say Cassandra was extremely careful about what clients she would take. I mean, you've got to have really good intuition. Even when the ladies that were in this business try to be safe, you know, they can still get fooled kind of thing, right? Because somebody can come off as a good, nice person,

and meanwhile, you know, they're not. Cassandra had her own website to solicit clients, which allowed for a whole other level of vetting and screening. And her website made clear that Cassandra wasn't really interested in taking transphobic shit from anyone. She writes, quote, The correct word to use when referring to trans women is to call them women, of course, whether they be an escort, porn star, or otherwise. be an escort, porn star, or otherwise. When people ask me, you know, with the surgery that I've had in the past, how I could deal with the pain because it sounds so painful and whatnot,

and it was never that painful for me getting the surgery. It was society and the public, the way they look at me and judge me and say, oh, that's a man or that's a freak, that's a lot more painful. I don't think any surgery that I have is going to change some people's mind. There are some people out there that's not going to like me, the fact that I'm transsexual. And I've experienced all kinds of prejudice from just regular strangers to law enforcement people and whatnot.

And it's very sad, but that's the way it is. It is sad. It's sad that society expected Cassandra to look, act, and sound a certain way. It's sad that they bullied her and fired her when she didn't. It's sad that she had to and fired her when she didn't. It's sad that she had to finance her transition all by herself. But getting this done, it meant a lot to Cassandra. To be honest with you, I'm quite happy with my nose and I'm not looking forward to getting any other surgery. I think I'd have to work with my inner self and just be happy with myself and other people that

are around me and not concentrate so much on cosmetic surgery itself. For me, I think what would make my life totally complete and happy is being in a relationship with someone who's loving and being in a nursing field that I truly love and just having a normal life, I guess. In 2017, it felt like drugs were everywhere in the news. So I started a podcast called On Drugs.

We covered a lot of ground over two seasons, but there are still so many more stories to tell. I'm Jeff Turner, and I'm back with season three of On Drugs. And this time it's going to get personal. I don't know who Sober Jeff is. I don't even know if I like that guy. On Drugs is available now wherever you get your podcasts. That summer, there was a drought. I remember there was a drought because we were all working the phones. You know what I mean?

And it was so slow that summer. That weekend, I seen her. Actually, we had KFC. We were sitting at the 519 and she was telling me, we were kind of saying, oh my God, the phones are really quiet this year, like, you know, the last couple of months. It's the end of summer 2003, just two years after Cassandra appeared in that TV series.

Advertising in the alt-weeklies or online, it meant a lot of sitting around and waiting for prospective clients to call. So that hot summer, Cassandra and Monica are working the phones. I did most of my work on the phones, but I always loved a corner because it's quick and easy. So that's what we all did. If you had access to a home or phones, you could work indoors, right? You can advertise, and the money was phenomenal. When clients call, Monica and Cassandra would arrange a date,

either at their place, at the client's home, or some other location. That afternoon, Cassandra had lined up two dates. Her brother was in town and was staying with Cassandra had lined up two dates. Her brother was in town and was staying with Cassandra. He understood the work she was doing, and he left for the afternoon to give her some space. Cassandra was supposed to call her brother when the dates were over. I lived on the east side of Dundonald. She lived on the west side of Dundonald.

So we were only like five minutes away from each other. Her brother was sitting out there waiting for her on the patio, on the front step. But his phone never rang. Hours go by. When he finally tries to get into her apartment, the door is locked. Her brother calls some other family members for help. When they finally get through the door, they find Cassandra. And to hear the news that she was found face down in her tub, you know, strangled, it was just horrible. It was horrible. I was crushed. I was crushed because I know the last time I had seen her, she was terrified.

Who was she afraid of? She didn't say. She didn't say, but she was like, girl, I think I'm being watched. She's like, I feel that I'm being watched. I think she had an incident, but she didn't go into too late details. And she was just like, I'm scared. Like she was just so sweet, so timid. It'd be hard, you know, anybody could take advantage. That October, as the community is still reeling, police are called to an apartment in Toronto's West End. Inside, they find the body of 39-year-old Leanne Pham. She, like Cassandra, had been strangled.

She was cisgender, but she also worked as a sex worker, meeting dates in her apartment, where she thought it was safer. Her customers called her Mei Ling, but the prostitute found dead in Etobicoke Monday lived another life, a widow who turned tricks to put her child through college. Today, police identified her as Leanne Pham. They say it's too soon to know if there's a link to the murder of another prostitute, Cassandra Doe, this summer. The cases look similar, but there's no firm link.

Police collect DNA from both scenes to see if it's possible they were the same perpetrator. Even before knowing if they're linked, police organize a closed-door meeting of some 50 sex workers. We are dealing with a sex predator, sexual predators who may attack again, police told the workers. The amount of violence that faced sex workers in Toronto around that time was staggering. In the nearby cities of Burlington and Hamilton, just a little further down Lake Ontario from Toronto, there was a rash of attacks in the months before Cassandra and Leanne's deaths.

One woman's body is found in a park. Another is found beaten and strangled. Some just vanished. The cases pile so high that police set up a dedicated task force. They call it Project Advocate. Project Advocate was set up in 2003 following 14 reported attacks on street prostitutes. One woman was found murdered. Two women are still missing. Project Advocate would be disbanded without solving any of those homicides.

Cassandra's death in particular does something. It reverberates. It really hits people. One of the first trans people I kind of saw on the news around the time that I transitioned was Cassandra Doe. And it was really very affecting because what it leaves you with is this idea that your life chances are almost none. This is Morgan Page. She's a writer, artist and queer historian. She hosts a trans history podcast called One from the Vaults that you should absolutely listen to. But in 2003, she was just coming out. And this is the world that confronts her. The lives that are available for you when you're a trans person in like 2003 and you're just seeing Cassandra Doe murdered on the news is that you can transition but if you do you're gonna end up getting murdered or being a

sex worker or you're going to work in a really kind of low-level, highly feminized job, like being a hairdresser, nail salon person, makeup artist, etc. I feel like I personally ran through all of these jobs in my early transition because that was all that was available. There really weren't a lot of options. Morgan does end up following that path Much like Cassandra, she goes on to get involved in the village She works at the 519

And she does sex work And she sees firsthand all this violence And how police refuse to stop it How they perpetuate it There's such a long history of this and not just the big horrific moments when someone like Elora Wells dies. Like I've spent so much time taking trans women to police stations to try to help them get some kind of justice and, you know, being turned away or being told that, you know, it's unlikely they're going to get any prosecution in this case. The police have always been failing

the community of the village. When they haven't been like openly antagonistic to us, they've been completely letting us down. And I remember even back then getting stopped by the police because I was visibly trans in the village after a certain hour of night under suspicion that you were a sex worker. They'd use loads of like extra legal ways of pressuring people to leave the neighborhood. There used to be this thing where they give trans women that they've arrested conditions where they can't go within the physical boundaries of the village, which is especially messed up because they often live within those boundaries that they're not allowed to go to. So they're essentially being made homeless or being forced to break the law.

So they're essentially being made homeless or being forced to break the law. I was heavily involved in fighting back against one particular purge in 2008 and 2009 of the Homewood Maitland Strip. Just as Morgan was fighting this purge, Elora was working the Homewood Maitland Strip. It's the same corner where she had her first prostitution charge at 18 years old. They gave them conditions where they weren't allowed to enter the neighborhood. They harassed the clients. And the effect this had on sex workers was really devastating. A lot of people who were working there, that was their primary source of income or their only source of income. And suddenly most of that income dries up overnight. And then people were having to move into areas that were traditionally associated with being more violent. So in fact, at the time,

I remember there was one girl I knew who was a regular on the stroll and she ended up getting stabbed within just a couple of days of being moved. When you force sex workers out of a space where they have built up a sense of community and where they also know where everything is, you're forcing people out of their comfort zone. This effort by the Toronto police to push sex workers off the streets, out of their apartments, into increasingly dangerous situations, it wasn't a bug of the system. It was a feature.

It was the official policy of the Canadian government to prevent women from soliciting clients in the street, to criminalize their ability to hire bodyguards, and to criminalize any indoor location where sex workers worked as a brothel. And so in those years, after the murders of Cassandra Doe, Leanne Pham, and dozens of other people in the sex trade across the country, sex workers decided to fight back. Prime Minister Harper called me again. He offered to appoint me to the Senate as a government whip.

I turned him down. I may run into some former clients here on Parliament Hill. This is Terry Jean Bedford. I'll let her introduce herself. I am the Bedford in Bedford v. Canada. The constitutional challenge striking down the prostitution laws. I learned about the issues by working in and managing almost all aspects of the sex trade over 30 years.

I have been in jail because of the laws. I am Canada's most famous dominatrix and perhaps Canada's most famous prostitute. So maybe I know what I'm talking about. So maybe I know what I'm talking about. It's frankly impossible to talk about the realities that Allura and Cassandra faced without talking about Canada's sex work laws. And it's impossible to talk about Canada's sex work laws without talking about Terry Jean Bedford. In 2009, Bedford, along with Valerie Scott and Amy Leibovich,

appeared before the Ontario Superior Court of Justice. They were there to argue that Canada's sex work laws were unconstitutional. Morgan knew these laws pretty well. She breaks down just how absurd they are. So, communicating for the purposes of prostitution is basically if you are in a public place and you say a specific price and a specific act to someone, that is criminal. However, if you do it in a private place, that's not criminal unless you do it more than once in the same place. Then that becomes running a common body house. Now, if you take that money and you pay your rent with it, or you buy your friend some pizza, or you give some of it to your boyfriend, then that person you give it to is living off the avails of prostitution. Now, how these actually get applied is a little less black and white than that.

The laws were so vague, so arbitrary, that they could be used almost indiscriminately against sex workers. Bedford and her fellow plaintiffs argued that these laws made them unsafe, that it forced sex workers into the shadows. It forced them to work without protection. In particular, it was argued more marginalized sex workers, including drug users, indigenous women, and trans people, were particularly at risk.

And we will win. I promise you that. We will win. There was really little chance that these sex workers were going to win their case. But Terry Jean Bedford and these other women, they pushed anyway. The law is not helping whatsoever. It's perpetuating harm, it's perpetuating violence. It does nobody no good. Then, something wild happened.

They won. Let's go! Hey, ho! Let's go! How do I celebrate? I'm going to spank some ass. Woo! Legally!

Legally! Legally! I'm very happy for the girls out there that can now go home with their clients in a safe environment. If a landlord wants to rent to a prostitute, he's not subjected to the laws. It's just freedom across the board for every Canadian. This is a great day for Canada. We won't have to work in fear and under the gun and on the run.

And my colleagues won't show up dead. The federal government appealed the decision. In 2013, four years after Bedford and her colleagues first challenged the laws, they headed to the Supreme Court of Canada. In a unanimous ruling, it struck down all of Canada's sex work laws. What the laws did was they created a very adversarial relationship with the police for us. So we were always under the radar for fear of being arrested.

And sexual predators pretending to be clients knew this and would take advantage of this. The Supreme Court gave the government a year to write new laws regulating sex work. If they didn't, the old laws would no longer be enforceable. Sex work would be, effectively, decriminalized. And to all the sex workers whose blood, sweat, and tears have gone into this fight, and what I say is, we won!

I was in the courthouse that day. There was a feeling like this victory was just temporary. The thing here is politicians, though they may know us as clients, they do not understand how sex work works. They won't be able to write a half-decent law. It will fail. Leave it be like they did when gay and lesbian sex was decriminalized, with same-sex marriage. You know people said this guy would fall in and there would be frogs all over when those things happen. But that did not happen.

Things are fine. Society is better for it. And society will be better for us having our civil and occupational rights as well. The women argued sex workers should have the same rights as any other professional. The ability to choose when they work, where they work, and how they work. And it should be completely decriminalized. Unfortunately, the government didn't listen. This is then-Justice Minister Peter McKay. Where we are going after putting resources in place and empowering the police to focus on the perpetrators, the johns and the pimps, those who commodify sexual services, those who place

predominantly women and young women in a vulnerable position. The federal government introduced legislation to adopt what's known as the Nordic model. It would criminalize paying for sex instead of providing it. But for many sex workers, this was just a new way to introduce the same old broken laws. Because busting johns would mean sex work still has to happen in the shadows. It would continue putting women at risk of violence. And the bill, it actually went beyond that. It criminalized advertising sex work, just like how Cassandra used to do an iWeekly.

sex work, just like how Cassandra used to do an iWeekly. Some women say that they enter this business by choice, and they're complaining that you're killing their business with this bill. What do you tell those women? This legislation is not meant to enable, encourage, or in any way normalize the sale of sexual services. Terry Jean Bedford and her colleagues, they didn't stop. This bill, they told a Senate committee in 2014, was not an improvement. Senators, it is bad policy to direct scarce law enforcement resources to stop consenting adult behavior in private. Senators, please, please don't allow Parliament to force Canadian women to have sex only for free. Thank you.

Bedford has this acidic wit that I absolutely love. She's sitting there in her trademark dominatrix gear, long leather coat, low-cut white blouse, black leather gloves, matching riding crop. It's not hard to tell that she doesn't put much stock in this committee. Later in the hearing, after she gets cut off, she loses her cool. I won, remember that. Fifteen judges.

What makes you think you're any brighter than fifteen judges? First of all, let me just get my notes together because I told myself I try to act like a lady while I was here and not a dominatrix. One moment. But please, bear with me for one moment. I beg of you. No, I don't beg you. Nothing.

One moment. Well, we can come back. Please, please, this is very important because I am going to be back here again. Each question has a time allocation. All right. Your responses have to fit into that. You've given lots of other people lots of time.

I have 30 years of your abusive laws, so I should be allowed at least an extra five minutes to talk about it. Can I tell you what it costs to fight? No, no, I'm good. I'm going to adjourn the meeting. Half a million dollars. We're suspending. Half a million dollars. Who's got a half a million dollars? She was right to be frustrated.

The Senate passed the legislation two months later. And those laws are still on the books today. She was right to be frustrated. The Senate passed the legislation two months later. And those laws are still on the books today. We have to figure out how we're going to create a model that is right for Canada, right for Canadians, and protects the most vulnerable, which certainly includes sex workers in this country. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau had vowed to fix his predecessor's mistakes, to make sure that the law protected sex workers. And his government spent years holding consultations and roundtables and engaging with the public.

I look forward to a robust debate on it. I'm confident that Canada is going to be able to find out the best way of doing this in the months to come. We need to figure out... Then it did nothing. So once again, it's up to sex workers to fix this mess themselves. But I am a plaintiff in the next court challenge to bring down the laws. In March 2021, the Canadian Alliance for Sex Work Law Reform, which includes Monica's organization, filed a constitutional challenge to those laws. Sex work is dangerous? No.

You know, the laws are perpetrate danger towards sex workers, and they need safety and decriminalize laws. These laws, whether they were the old ones or the new ones, failed people like Elora Wells and Leanne Pham and Cassandra Doe. You know, hopefully they will find who killed her because, you know, that for us, we're still walking in fear, knowing that person's still out there. When the DNA results come back in Cassandra's case, it doesn't match the DNA found on the scene of Leanne Pham's murder.

But police do get a hit. The DNA was forensically linked to another sexual assault in 1997 where the victim survived. There was another victim. She'd been assaulted six years earlier. Not only did she survive, she gave police a description of the attacker. Male, black, 25 to 40 years old, about six feet tall and muscular, and a close shaved head. He may have worn glasses and police even had a possible name. He may have used the name Victor and could have also had ties to Jamaica. There is no doubt that there are people that are close with the offender or were close to him

back at the time of the offences and you know he did this. I am confident of that. We have his DNA so all we need from you is his name. Next time on The Village. She's a great witness. She's a great witness for us. We believe that this fella came prepared to, A, either sexually assault and or murder these women. We weren't maybe so good at investigating back in the day, but we've changed. Transgender and transsexual people are regularly victims of abuse and harassment and physical violence. Where do you think trans people come from? You don't just wake up one day and you suddenly are like, oh, I'm trans now, I guess. Almost 80 to 90 percent of young trans people consider suicide. It's a friggin' miracle that we're still, we're alive here.

The Village is written and produced by me, Justin Ling, and Jennifer Fowler. Sound design was by Julia Whitman, with help from Evan Kelly. Our associate producer is Eunice Kim, and our digital producer is Fabiola Melendez-Carletti. Alex V. Green, Faith Fundahl, and Chris Oak are our story editors. Our senior producer is Cecil Fernandez. And the executive producer of CBC Podcasts is Arif Noorani. Thank you to Inner City Films for the episode of Skin Deep. If you're looking for another podcast to listen to, check out Uncover from CBC Podcasts.

Each season investigates a different story. From the NXIVM sex cult to the satanic panic of the 1980s. Find Uncover on the CBC Listen app or wherever you get your podcasts. For more CBC Podcasts, go to cbc.ca slash podcasts.