Nick Schiavo remembers January 7, 2022, as a day of mixed feelings. The founder of the grassroots coalition No Conversion Canada, Schiavo had spent years lobbying the federal government to ban conversion-therapy practices on a national scale. Legislating against those harmful practices — defined as coercive attempts to change a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity — had twice been attempted in Canada, and each bill failed. Politics often got in the way.
So when Bill C-4 finally came into force on that January day two years ago, Schiavo says, he could hardly believe it was happening. The bill amended the Criminal Code, making it illegal across Canada for any individual, organization, or business to provide or profit off of a conversion-therapy treatment or service (which dozens of medical organizations have deemed a harmful and discredited practice).
“Like so many issues our communities deal with, [conversion therapy was] invisible to a lot of Canadians,” Schiavo says.
According to a 2021 study by researchers from the Community-Based Research Centre, as many as one in 10 gay, bisexual, trans, queer, and Two-Spirit men said they had experienced conversion-therapy practices in their lifetimes. For survivors, the trauma inflicted by these practices can lead to shame, anxiety, depression, isolation, and suicidal ideation.
When the bill received royal assent in December 2021, MPs across political lines celebrated the win, shaking hands and hugging. For Schiavo — and for me, a queer journalist who’d been covering the issue for years — it was a rare moment of shared political joy. And for survivors of conversion-therapy practices, it was a recognition, finally, of the immense pain and harm they’d experienced and a promise for future reparations for our communities.
There has been a lot less chatter about conversion-therapy practices since. In Ottawa, Schiavo is now winding down efforts at No Conversion Canada, the organization having met its goal of a legislative ban. But the work — for survivors and for LGBTQ2S+ communities across the country — is far from over.
“From the jump, the law was never going to be a silver bullet,” Schiavo says. While legislation is intended to deter people from practising conversion therapy, it can’t feasibly eradicate it altogether. And these harmful practices tend to be subtle and insidious in nature, making it even more difficult to pinpoint them when they’re happening.
Continued education — especially for those who first heard about conversion-therapy practices only when the legislation was tabled — is paramount, says Schiavo: “We always knew we would need complementary supports, especially when it comes to supporting survivors.”
Enter StopConversionPractices.ca, a new resource created jointly by No Conversion Canada and the CBRC. The site plays a dual role: educating service providers (like therapists and doctors) who may be working with survivors, as well as survivors and their loved ones, about the harms and realities of conversion therapy practices.
Central to that education is confronting elements of conversion-therapy practices that have were not addressed by the federal government’s legislation. While the Criminal Code can protect against blatant acts such as attempting to “cure” a trans person, the law will be of little use to people who are subject to more subtle examples of hate: for example, a look of disgust from a passerby who sees a same-sex couple holding hands. Educational resources and supports can help fill the gap.
Another part of that education: recognizing the reality of conversion-therapy practices in Canada. Or, as Schiavo puts it, recognizing that Canada is not a post-phobia utopia. For survivors, that means taking the time to heal from trauma.
Jordan Sullivan, a conversion-therapy survivor who worked with the CBRC to research the experiences of 270 other survivors, found that a majority of those who have experienced conversion-therapy practices have an “alarming lack of support.” Necessary support includes an increased awareness of conversion therapy and greater access to therapists who understand the realities of these practices.
“Survivors have been abused, silenced, oppressed, and traumatized — by blatant messages and pressures, violent acts and words, and ongoing microaggressions that can leave us feeling hopeless and lost,” Sullivan wrote in 2022. “It is time to build a support system to respond.”
Building that support system will take time and resources. But a simple place to start is to talk openly and honestly about these practices — and for those who aren’t part of our communities to truly listen. The conversation cannot end because legislation exists in this country. In fact, two years later, the conversation has only just begun.