Chapter: Deflection vs. Dignity
Chapter: Deflection vs. Dignity
In 2025, a TD stood in the Dáil and raised the alarm:
Over 3,650 new sexual offence cases in a single year.
A 13.7% rise.
More rape, more assault, more people suffering in silence.
And when he challenged the Taoiseach — asked for transparency, answers, action — he got a history lecture instead.
Old data. Old spin.
Deflection.
But I wasn’t surprised.
I’ve seen the same thing in a quieter form — in the way services respond to their own failures.
I wrote to Special Olympics Ireland HQ.
I gave them time. I waited, as anyone would, hoping they'd acknowledge how certain club practices harmed someone who gave them years of her life.
But what came back?
Silence.
No reply.
No apology.
No change.
Just like the state.
Just like every system that chooses control over care.
Meanwhile, the person they forgot still skips meals to pay club fees.
Still obeys rules that should have no hold on her anymore.
Still feels like she needs permission to visit someone she once called a friend.
And every year, I send a care package — because someone should still care.
Because real support isn’t about titles or logos — it’s about showing up when it’s inconvenient, unglamorous, and long after the applause has stopped.
Whether it’s housing, disability services, or justice — the pattern is the same:
Talk, not truth.
Forms, not food.
Praise, not accountability.
But people aren’t statistics.
And silence is a response — it says: "We don't care enough to answer."
So I write it down.
I remember.
I speak.
Because dignity is not optional.
And deflection will never be good enough.