Talking to a Syrian transgender refugee about trauma
It's ethically and technically challenging interviewing someone about a traumatic experience like sexual assault, all the more so when you're doing it in another language using an interpreter.
That's what happened when a transgender woman we're calling Alia approached CBC News through the Egale Youth OUTreach Centre, wanting to share her experience as an LGBT refugee fleeing Syria.
It's a perspective that she said she felt had largely been missing from the overall narrative of the more than 12 million people who have been displaced from that country since civil war broke out in 2011.
That's why the editorial leaders at CBC News approved Alia's request for anonymity. Part of the reason so few LGBT refugees have come forward has been because they fear repercussions from their homeland and from their family members.
Alia arrived alone in Canada in June.
She fled Syria in 2013 and spent much of the next two years in Jordan. There she was raped and assaulted by police and civilians, she told CBC News.
Translator
A trauma counsellor spoke with Alia both before and after our interview to make sure Alia felt safe.
We exchanged greetings in English and she chatted briefly about gearing up for winter using her new language, but Alia said she felt she could best explain her trauma in Arabic.
Egale helped facilitate the interview, by arranging for an Egyptian LGBT refugee to act as a translator. He already knew Alia and both told CBC News they felt they could accurately capture her experience.
I sat directly in front of Alia, while our interpreter sat behind me so that Alia and I could maintain a connection as we spoke through someone else.
No interruptions
When people relate an experience of trauma, they may relive it themselves. Sometimes that can be cathartic, at other times it can be distressing.
They may give minute and intimate details — sounds, smells or visceral images; Alia devolved into a poignant description of bloody footprints she left on the pavement while running from attackers in Jordan. In order to ensure that Alia felt she had control over the experience of reliving the memories, I did not interrupt her while she was speaking.
Once the intimate and violent moments had been shared, I asked for clarification of certain details and asked more specific questions.
As a journalist, I believe it's critical to share first-person stories in order to highlight the human consequences of issues that may seem remote. But it's also important for our audience to understand the delicate balance involved in covering conflict and trauma — and the steps we take to ensure that coverage is thoughtful as well as accurate.
You can read Alia's full story here.
