“What does RJ mean to you?”
by Gillian Lindquist, Executive Director of Restorative Justice Victoria.

I’ve always had a problem with rules and authority, so it’s sometimes curious to those who’ve known me that I chose a career in justice. I believe my choice to work in the field of restorative justice speaks to how it is a markedly different creature than the contemporary model of ‘justice,’ which seems to hold an infatuation with the question of ‘which rules were broken,’ as that view of justice would have wholeheartedly repelled me.

I grew up in a religious home where there were many rules. I’m sure there were countless attempts to articulate the rationale for those to me, yet I don’t recall them making much sense. I also went to public school during a time when those institutions were more draconian than they appear to be now (I have two young children and thus far, to my great relief, it seems like things have changed). I recall there being so many rules and so little opportunity to speak to, understand, and explore why those rules were in place and what they meant socially and relationally. In my experience they were meant to be followed and unquestioned, which resulted in me violating them at every turn. It would be fair to say that from the ages of nine to early adulthood, I was in very frequent trouble with the adults in my life, which grew into disconnection and left me feeling displaced from community.

In my early 20s I enrolled in a conflict management certificate, focusing on mediation and negotiation. My end goal was wilderness therapy – taking youth out into wilderness environments to heal wounds which might not be repaired while in the context of familial, social, and peer-based environments. I was told by others who worked in the field that I would want to be well versed in dispute resolution, as conflict in the backcountry could result in devastating outcomes. Within the conflict management program we were required to take electives. I had heard instructors speak about restorative justice, and knowing almost nothing about it, took it as an elective. Although it took place close to 20 years ago, I can still recall the moment when restorative justice struck my heart. My now dear friend and mentor, Alan Edwards, was teaching the course and asked us to pick apart why we try to do the ‘right thing’ – what is motivating those choices and that dedication. It was evident as we engaged in discussion that it centered on being in ‘right relationship’ with each other and ourselves. It was not about following rules or authority and power figures. It deeply impacted me and answered some of the confusion I was holding about my earlier experiences in life.

After completing my conflict management certificate, I went on to complete a certificate in restorative justice and then a degree in justice studies. Once I graduated, I was hired at Restorative Justice Victoria, where I have worked for the past 12 years. I am profoundly grateful for the work I get to do in community. The restorative justice landscape however is also not perfect. We have much to do and learn as individual practitioners and as a field. We have a great deal of unpacking to do and accountability to take in the areas of anti-racism, anti-oppressive practice, and decolonization. We also need to increasingly hold ourselves to our own stated values, as there are times when our field is inconsistent. It’s been incredibly rewarding to sit on the board of RJABC, which has been a container to identify and begin to work through the above challenges in our field in a meaningful way.

Alongside my commitment to the field of restorative justice, I maintain sincere dedication to my own personal and spiritual healing. This serves me both as a mom to my two beautiful children (Ella 6 and Blake 5) and as a restorative justice practitioner. I have learned that accountability to my wholeness is a precondition to accompanying others on their journey toward the same.

When people ask me why I do restorative justice, I find it difficult to adequately explain what it means to me. I think the closest I’ve come is to say that it feels inherently a part of me; it reflects who and what I really am (and strive to be). It has been and continues to be a blessing to do this work and I look forward to many more years to learn and grow and dedicate myself to personal, individual, and collective healing.