An open letter to Charlottetown police on drink-spiking cases

This column is an opinion from Carlie Howell, a musician and educator based in P.E.I. For more information about CBC's Opinion section, please see the FAQ.

EDITOR'S NOTE |  The author of this piece intentionally uses the "womxn" spelling throughout. This spelling denotes inclusion of trans women and gender queer females, and seeks to combat the prevalence of male-gendered terms in the English language.

The following is an open letter to the Charlottetown Police Department about their handling of a series of alleged drink spiking incidents in Charlottetown.

I am a newcomer to this Island. I am a professional bass player, composer, and artist educator. I moved here last year to be with my girlfriend, and also out of a desire to be closer to the land, to the water, to good food and good people. 

Last month, I had a break between soundcheck and performing in a local holiday production. I had scheduled a call with my stepdaughter to help with her resumé, so I popped into a local pub to set up my computer and chat. Even as a newcomer to this Island, this particular venue feels cozy, comfortable, and safe. It's the kind of place where the bartenders know your name and you're bound to run into some friends. I ordered a beer, found a hightop, and set down my stuff. 

I was about to pop into the bathroom when I stopped dead in my tracks. It wasn't the expensive laptop, the fancy phone, or my wallet that gave me pause. It was my beer, and your words of advice on an investigation into spiked drinks warning people to "keep a close eye" on their drinks.

All of a sudden, this cozy community establishment became a little less comfortable, a little less familiar. I glanced around at the six other patrons. Why? I don't know, because spiking people's drinks isn't something one wears on their sleeve. 

Should I take my beer with me? Seems a bit gross. Take it back to the bar? Seems a bit excessive. I opted for a quick exchange of eye contact with the bartender and a nod to my drink. A drink that had, a moment ago, appeared delicious now looked … vulnerable.

The article published by CBC P.E.I. on Nov. 16 about a series of alleged drink-spiking incidents, as well as several sexual assaults, was not the first time I had heard about these alleged incidents.

Moving here, I was not naive to the fact that bad behaviour exists everywhere, but coming from a big city to a small place, I suppose I hoped it would be better. I had hoped that people would have each other's backs, that those meant to protect us would know us, care about us, do their job and take ownership of their responsibilities.

For the record, I support defunding the police. 

As a queer person with a mental health diagnosis who lives in community with folks across the spectrum of gender, sexuality, race, and mental and physical ability, I am well aware that policing is not synonymous with safety for all people. 

I am also aware that the budgets for valuable programming that have positive and preventative impacts on these communities are being cut while police budgets grow. And the situation we are currently experiencing is a perfect example.

You're not preventing anything. These crimes are happening, and womxn are being harmed. You say you care, but you have been unable to make any progress in this case or make a single arrest.