Women As Victims and Offenders: Incarcerated for Murder in the Australian Criminal Justice System

Women as Victims and Offenders: Incarcerated for Murder in the Australian Criminal Justice System

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Kathryn M. Whiteley Queensland University of Technology Faculty of Law School of Justice Brisbane Queensland, Australia 2012 I

Declaration

The work contained in my study has not been previously submitted to meet requirements for an award at this or any other higher education institution. To the best of my knowledge and belief, this dissertation contains no material previously published or written by another person except where due reference is made.

Signature QUT Verified Signature

0 t/()7/(201(;(, Date II

Acknowledgements

There are numerous colleagues I gratefully acknowledge for their encouragement, support, and friendship throughout the process of my research. First, immense thanks to Dr. Belinda Carpenter for her kindness, insight, and patience provided in this long and challenging journey! I also extend my gratitude to the management and staff at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre in Melbourne, Australia, for their consistent on-site assistance.

To Gracie, Natalie, Jennifer, Edwina, Deb, and Red, my dearest Australian friends and New Zealand extended family, I’ll never forget the love, discussions, laughter and sometimes tears we shared which will always hold a special place in my heart.

For the past four and a half years, I have called Pennsylvania, my home in the USA, where I have been befriended by so many wonderful women, namely my “sisters.” Thanks to all of you for your unsurpassed love and support. James, thanks mate! I would be remiss in forgetting to mention “Max” the Wonder Dog for his companionship. What a great listener!

Finally, I acknowledge the Australian women offenders who allowed me to work with them and those women in the Pennsylvania prison system in the United States, with whom I simply state: “You have all inspired me!”

III

Dedication

I have been very blessed due to the love, support, and encouragement of so many extraordinary people whom I have come to know and embrace as part of my life’s journey. For them, I am grateful. First, my heartfelt thanks to my father Maurice James and to Daphne my darling mum, I love you. Sincere thanks to my brother Peter, for his untiring support and encouragement. I love you and wish every woman had an older brother as special as you. Finally, but certainly not least, this research lead me to a far off place where I met and married my soul mate William. Thank you, for just “being you!”

My study is dedicated to the seven women who are permanently etched into my heart ─ Bella, Claire, Jean, Jennifer, Lil, Sarah, and Wendy. My mind frequently returns to our hours spent together communicating in a tiny and barren office, where everyone so willingly shared their stories complete with the joys and sorrows. As I have wrestled with my study over the past few years, I am reminded that some may now be released and others are soon to be. I often wonder how each of you are doing and what the future holds in store. My utmost desire is that I was true to your stories, and I earnestly trust that I also left my thumbprint upon your hearts.

Someone*

Someone that is always in your mind

At the good and the bad times

Someone who cheers you up

When you’re feeling sad

Someone who is proud of you

No matter what you do

Someone that tries their best and

Doesn’t turn their back on you

Someone I love more than words can say

Someone more precious than the hours of the day

It is my mummy and daddy who I love

More and more each and every day

* Written by the daughter of one of the women.

Abstract

This study was undertaken in an effort to contribute to the limited knowledge of women who commit murder. Women account for approximately 10% of the total Australian homicides and according to Mouzos (2000), 20% of these female perpetrated homicides result in murder convictions. In her extensive study of female homicide offending in England, Brookman (2005) asserts that nearly two thirds of the victims of women who kill are intimates, to include violent partners and their own children. The other third of the victims consist largely of acquaintances and to lesser degree strangers (Brookman, 2005).

This study strives to introduce further knowledge regarding women convicted of murder; the smaller subgroup of female homicide offenders of which less is known. It is comprised of women who killed intimates and non-intimates to include acquaintances. The study engages the narratives of seven women, all of whom were convicted of murder and serving lengthy sentences at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, a medium and maximum security prison that is located on the outskirts of Melbourne, Australia.

The seven women fall largely outside of the characteristics of female homicide offenders as revealed in the studies from Australia’s National Homicide Monitoring Program (NHMP, 2007), from Canada by Hoffmann, Lavigne, and Dickie (1998) and research from the United States by Scott and Davies (2002). In this study there were no Indigenous women represented. Only one of the women had a previous criminal charge. The women were older on average than the prevailing demographics from western nations. Two of the women had substance abuse and co-occurring mental illness, which reflects a significant lower rate than the literature suggests.

This study expands the current understanding of the phenomenon of women who murder. It communicates the narratives of seven women charged and convicted of murder as they attempt to understand their lives and identities. It moves the dialogue beyond the VI preponderance of feminist criminological research that examines motive and the relationship the woman has with her victim to the social discourses which dominate in her identity formation. This research found that in their attempt to create a favourable identity the women needed to engage with the master script of normative femininity through the feminisation of victimisation, motherhood and domesticity.

VII

Table of Contents

Declaration...... I

Acknowledgements ...... II

Dedication ...... III

Poem……………………………………………………………………………………..IV

Abstract ...... V

Table of Contents ...... VII

Chapter One: Introduction…………………………………………………………….12

1.1 Introduction ...... 12 1.2 Why Study Women Who Kill? ...... 12 1.3 What Feminist Criminological Research Reveals: Women Who Kill...... 13 1.3.1 The Demographics and Characteristics of Women Who Kill .. …………13 1.3.2 Women Tend to Kill Intimates: Most Offenses Occur within the Home. .15 1.3.3 Pathology and the Women Who Kill ...... 16 1.4 Turning the Page: Notions of Agency or Volition ...... 17 1.5 Feminist Criminological Inquiry and Narratives of Women Who Kill ...... 18 1.6 Identity Formation ...... 19 1.7 Methodology and Methods ...... 19 1.8 Organisation of the Thesis ...... 20

Chapter Two: Review of the Literature...... 25

2.1 Introduction ...... 25 2.2 The Feminist Criminological Endeavour ...... 25 2.3 The Known: Demographics and Characteristics of Women Who Kill and Their Victims………………………………………………………………………………….. 26 2.3.1 Who Are Women Who Kill? ...... 27 2.3.2 Who Women Kill ...... 28 2.4 Explanations for the Phenomenon of the Woman Who Kills ...... 34 2.4.1 Bad and Evil ...... 35 2.5 Victimisation ...... 36 2.5.1 Pathways to Crime Theory...... 36 2.6 Pathology and Women Who Kill ...... 38 2.6.1 Domestic Violence and Battered Woman Syndrome (BWS) ...... 38 2.6.2 Mental Illness: The Pathology and Mad Discourse ...... 40 2.6.3 The Influence of Substance Abuse ...... 43 2.6.4 Agency, Willingness, or Volition ...... 47 VIII

2.7 Narratives of Women Who Kill ...... 49 2.7.1 Identity Formation ...... 50 2.7.2 Identity Construction Through Narratives ...... 52 2.7.3 In Their Own Voices: The Woman’s Perspective ...... 53 2.7.4 Negotiating Identities ...... 56 2.8 Conclusion: An Unfinished Story ...... 60

Chapter Three: Methodological Framework ...... 62

3.1 Introduction ...... 62 3.2 Methodological Considerations ...... 63 3.2.1 Feminist Methodologies...... 63 3.2.2 Feminist Standpoint Theory: As a Framework…………………………….65 3.2.3 Qualitative Research……………………………………………………… ……66 3.3 The Location of Self ...... 68 3.3.1 Researcher Reflexivity ...... 69 3.3.2 Researcher: Process of Reflection ...... 70 3.4 Risk, Safety, and Other Ethical Issues ...... 72 3.4.1 Sensitive Research ...... 74 3.5 An In-Depth Discussion of Semi-Structured Interviews ...... 75 3.5.1 A Feminist Approach to Interviewing ...... 75 3.5.2 Probing: During the Interview ...... 77 3.5.3 The Value of Listening ...... 77 3.6 Narrative Research: The Study of Stories ...... 78 3.7 Human Research Ethics Committee: Access to Participants ...... 79 3.7.1 Queensland University of Technology, Australia ...... 79 3.7.2 Queensland Department of Corrective Services, Australia ...... 79 3.7.3 Victorian Department of Justice, Australia ...... 80 3.8 Sampling Guidelines ...... 82 3.9 Selection and Recruitment ...... 82 3.9.1 Selection Criterion ...... 82 3.9.2 Participant Response ...... 83 3.10 Sketch of the Participants...... 83 3.11 Experience within the Field ...... 85 3.12 Researcher Preparation: Prison Visits ...... 87 3.12.1 Experience with Prison Officials ...... 87 3.13 Establishing Trust with Participants ...... 88 3.14 Informed Consent and Confidentiality...... 89 3.15 The Interview Process ...... 90 3.16 Ministering Grace ...... 92 3.17 Conclusion of Interviews: Leaving the Women Behind ...... 93 3.18 Transcribing ...... 93 3.19 Researcher Debriefing ...... 94 3.20 Conclusion ...... 94

Chapter Four: Narratives ...... 96

4.1 Introduction: Bella, Lil, Sarah, and Wendy ...... 96 4.2 Women Who Acknowledge Murder: Their Stories ...... 96 4.3 Bella: I Am More Than My Crime ...... 97 4.4 Pathologisation: The Discourse of Mad ...... 104 4.5 Bad and Evil: I Never Intended to Kill ...... 107 4.6 Domesticity: My Children Are My Life ...... 108 4.7 Rational or Irrational: Something Just Went Wrong ...... 110 4.8 Shame Frame: I Was Violated ...... 112 4.9 Bella Frames Her Identity ...... 113 4.10 The Court’s Characterisation: The Victim and Offender ...... 116 4.11 The Mad and Bad: More Bad than Mad ...... 118 4.12 Summarisation of Bella...... 119 4.13 Wendy’s Narrative: A Story of Betrayal ...... 120 4.14 The Victim Discourse: Thirty Years of Abuse ...... 121 4.15 Victimised By My Protectors...... 122 4.16 The Relationship with the Deceased: One of Ambivalence ...... 123 4.17 Pathology: They Think I Am Mad, Bloody Mad! ...... 124 4.18 Wendy’s Reflection on Her Life and Identity...... 128 4.19 The Feeling of Remorse ...... 129 4.20 The Court Narrative: Once His Victim, Then His Friend ...... 129 4.21 Agency: The Jealousy and Greed ...... 131 4.22 Summarisation of Wendy ...... 132 4.23 Lil: The Nurturer ...... 132 4.23.1 I Cared for the Women in My Family ...... 133 4.24 Victimisation: Fearful It Would Never Stop ...... 134 4.25 Rational, Irrational: Beat Someone on the Head with a Brick ...... 137 4.25.1 Substance Abuse, Amnesia, and Drinking ...... 137 4.26 Victim Offender: I Guess I Am Both ...... 141 4.27 Court Narrative: A Good Woman with an Illness ...... 144 4.27.1 Summary of Court Narrative ...... 146 4.28 Summarisation of Lil ...... 146 4.29 Sarah: Child and Woman ...... 147 4.29.1 Victimisation: He Controlled My Life ...... 147 4.30 Pathologisation: Steal a Personality, That’s Crazy ...... 152 4.30.1 Rational or Irrational: Can You Tell Me What That Is? ...... 155 4.31 The Court’s Narrative: Framed as a Bad Girl, a Self-Fulfilling Prophecy ...... 156 4.31.1 Complex and Unexplainable ...... 156 4.32 Summarisation of Sarah ...... 159 4.33 Chapter Summary ...... 160

Chapter Five: Narratives of Claire, Jean, and Jennifer ...... 162

5.1 Introduction ...... 162 5.2 Claire:“Women in here get ten years for murder: I’m innocent and get twenty- three” …………………………...... 162 5.3 Pathology of Mind and Body ...... 171 5.4 Wife and Mother ...... 176 5.5 Summary of the Court ...... 179 5.6 Summarisation of Claire ...... 180 5.7 Jean: No Body, No Weapon, No Witness ...... 180 5.8 Pathology: “Many women here get help for depression and nerves: I don’t need that kind of help” ...... 190 5.9 The Court’s Perspective ...... 193 5.10 Summarisation of Jean ...... 194 5.11 Jennifer: “It’s complex: It’s very complex” ...... 195 5.12 Domesticity ...... 198 5.13 Victimisation ...... 199 5.14 Ashamed ...... 202 5.15 Not Like Them ...... 203 5.16 Court Narrative ...... 204 5.17 Summarisation of Jennifer ...... 207 5.18 Conclusion ...... 208

Chapter Six: Analysis ...... 211

6.1 Introduction ...... 211 6.2 Hidden Identities ...... 212 6.2.1 Identity Construction: Beginning from a Difficult Position ...... 212 6.2.2 A Tale of Two Identities ...... 214 6.3 Victimisations as Past Abuses ...... 214 6.3.1 Victimisation Identity as Realised Through Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) ...... 216 6.3.2 Pathology as Victimisation ...... 218 6.3.3 Victimisation Out of Context ...... 222 6.3.4 Victimised by the Criminal Justice System: The Master Foe..…………..224 6.4 The Master Identity of Normative Femininity: The Good Mother and Appropriate Woman ...... 226 6.4.1 The Most Coveted Status: The Good Mother ...... 227 6.4.2 The Good Wife and Domesticity ...... 228 6.4.3 Normative Femininity and the Nurturer ...... 230 6.5 Identities to be Resisted ...... 231 6.5.1 Murderer: An Identity to be Resisted ...... 232 6.6 The Court’s Voice ...... 233 6.6.1 The Court and Normative Femininity ...... 235 XI

6.7 Summary ...... 235 6.8 Personal Reflections...... 237 6.9 Conclusion ...... 238

Chapter Seven: Conclusion ...... 240

7.1 Introduction ...... 240 7.2 Approach to the Research ...... 240 7.3 Significance of the Study ...... 241 7.4 Findings...... 242 7.5 Limitations of Study...... 246 7.6 Implications for Future Research ...... 246 7.7 Suggestions for Future Research ...... 249 7.7.1 The Criminal Justice Experience of Women Charged with Murder ...... 249 7.7.2 Mental Health Intervention ...... 250 7.8 Conclusion ...... 250

References ...... 252

Appendix ...... 276

Participation Information Sheet ...... 276 Consent Form ...... 278 Prisoner Response Form ...... 280 Letter Confirming Interview Time...... 281 Follow-Up Letter to Prison Management ...... 282

Chapter One: Introduction

1.1 Introduction This study presents the narratives of seven women, who were incarcerated in the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre in Melbourne Victoria, Australia. The Dame Phyllis Frost Centre is a maximum and medium security prison with a capacity for 300 women. It is possible that at this current date, one or more of the women may have been released. The women in this study were aged between 19 and 72 years at the time of their offending. Their sentences were between 13 and 23 years for convictions of murder. All seven women had been residents at this facility for at least five years.

All the women are residents of the state of Victoria and the offense for which they were charged occurred in Victoria. Under Victorian law, homicide is divided into two major classes, which are murder and manslaughter. Victorian Law states in order to be convicted of murder, it must be determined the accused acted with the intention to kill or to cause serious injury (Victorian Law Reform Commission, 2002, pp. 1-2). Manslaughter is distinguished from murder as it does not necessitate intent or the awareness of the possibility of serious injury (Victorian Law Reform Commission, 2002, p. 3).

1.2 Why Study Women Who Kill? Males dominate criminality. Within the United States, according to the FBI (2002), women represent 21% of all arrests and 17% of the total arrests for crimes of violence to include murder, forcible rape, armed robbery, and aggravated assault. So convincing is the supporting evidence of the gender ratio of crime, Naffine (1996) argued it is one of the very few theories within criminology that is universally embraced. It is further espoused by Naffine (1996) that the male domination of violent crime is so dramatic, maleness and violence seems a natural phenomenon.

The gender ratio is most identifiable in consideration of homicide offending, with females responsible for approximately 10% of the total homicides across Australia, Canada, England, and the United States (Brookman, 2005; Chan, 2001). Specific to Australia, the National Homicide Monitoring Program (NHMP, 2007) reported that between the years of 2005-2006, 13 women accounted for 12% of the total homicides perpetrated within Australia. With males dominating homicide, female homicide offending stands as an afterthought, evidenced through the dearth of research pertaining to women who kill.

The prevailing practice in relation to female offending has been to generalise male theory to females. In recognition of this practice, Chesney-Lind (1988) in her studies of girls who violently offend suggested that “add girls and stir” is the predominant practice where women are simply inserted into the male theoretical equation. In a similar fashion Brookman (2005) argued the male disposition to criminology and crime has served to perpetuate an absence of empirical research and theoretical dialogue which attempts to understand women who kill.

In addressing the need for more feminist criminological inquiry into female offending more generally, Daly and Chesney-Lind (1988, p. 504) argue that women who violently offend continue to reside on the peripheral, they are invisible, or appendages of men. Most importantly, the study of murder is incomplete without the incorporation of the specificities of women (Heidensohn, 1987).

1.3 What Feminist Criminological Research Reveals: Women Who Kill This study draws from feminist criminological research which according to Chesney-Lind (2006) was birthed 30 years ago. The feminist criminological endeavour challenged that criminology was the study of male criminals undertaken by male criminologists (Heidensohn, 1968). In an analysis of feminist criminological inquiry regarding women who kill, the findings fall largely within two major categories. These are the demographics of the offenders and their relationships to their victims, and the motives and the contexts of the offending.

1.3.1 The Demographics and Characteristics of Women Who Kill Feminist criminological inquiry into the phenomenon of the woman who kills across the 1980s and through to the mid-1990s shed significant light on the demographics and characteristics of the women. This research brought into focus the dominant themes of victimisation and marginalisation that have served to guide subsequent feminist research on women who kill.

Women across western societies account for approximately 10% of the total homicides, a ratio that Brookman (2005) asserts has prevailed for three decades. As a consequence, very few studies have examined the specific demographics of women who kill. For example, a study conducted by Goetting (1988) examining female homicide occurring in Detroit, Michigan in the United States, revealed an overrepresentation of African Americans who were single mothers in their mid-thirties. The women were subjected to extreme socioeconomic deprivations and the majority had past criminal records. In another American study undertaken by Hardesty, O’Shea, and Fletcher (1994) of female homicide offenders within the state of Oklahoma, the representation of women as largely poor and undereducated, with previous criminal charges was reinforced. Half of the women were also victims of physical and or sexual abuse.

A large Canadian study conducted by Hoffman, Lavigne, and Dickie (1998) examined the backgrounds of 181 women all of whom were incarcerated for murder across Canada. Their women were slightly younger than the women in the United States studies, with an over- representation of Indigenous women. Their study also served to shed light upon the presence of substance abuse among women who murder, with 67% having documented histories of substance abuse and dependence. They also identified that 35% of the women had documented histories of other mental illness among which depression was most prevalent. However, in contrast to those studies from the United States, in this study 49% of the offenders had no previous criminal charges (Hoffmann et al., 1998).

However, this research is a study of Australian women convicted of murder. The Australian Institute of Criminology (AIC) (2007), has provided one of the most comprehensive and ongoing analyses of homicide offending among western societies with their National Homicide Monitoring Program (NHMP). In the NHMP (2007) Annual Report for the years 2006-2007, it was cited that Indigenous women perpetrated homicide at 14 times the rate of non-Indigenous women, a ratio that has held steady since 1990. This report also identified a younger age range than those studies in the United States and Canada, with the highest cluster in the 20 to 24 year old group. Complimenting the Canadian statistics of Hoffman et al., (1998) was the presence of alcohol abuse with 45% of the Australian women having documented alcohol abuse problems.

The demographics and characteristics as reflected in these few studies on women who kill reveal a profile which has come to define women who perpetrate homicide. They are largely ethnic minorities, young with an average age in the early 30s, and they are subject to extreme socio-economic handicaps. The women are often single mothers, with substance abuse and mental health issues and histories of physical and sexual abuse. One third to one half also have criminal records. Furthermore, while these few studies do not capture the entire complexity of the lives of women who kill, they do shed light on experiences that had been previously ignored. Subsequently, from the late 1990s through to the early 2000s, there has been a greater interest in the pursuit to understand the woman who kills.

1.3.2 Women Tend to Kill Intimates: Most Offenses Occur within the Home A finding that has resonated throughout feminist criminological inquiry is that who women kill differs dramatically from who men kill. Women tend to kill intimates to include their violent male partners or their children (Jensen, 2001). In Adler and Polk’s (2001) extensive study of female homicide perpetrated across Australia, Canada, England and the United States, they found 10% to 20% of the women’s victims were their own children. Furthermore, in a review of the British Home Office statistics focusing on killings between 1995 and 2001, Brookman (2005) reported that women accounted for 19% of the total child killings compared to 3% for males. Consistent with these statistics is research by Mouzos and Rushforth (2003) within Australia, who identified that between the years of 1989 and 2002, 17.1% of the victims of women who killed were their own children.

The same British Home Office homicide report recorded between 1995 and 2001 that 32% of the victims were intimate partners (see Brookman, 2005). Research by Messner and Savolainen (2001) conducted in an urban area in Russia reported that 63% of the victims of women who killed were also their intimate partners. Mouzos and Rushforth’s (2003) research in Australia also reported 37% of the victims were male intimate partners.

The killing of intimates further reflects that the majority of these acts occurred within the home or in a domestic setting. In their analysis of family homicides, Mouzos and Rushforth (2003) argue that the vast majority of intimate partner killing and infanticide by women occurs within the home. Messner and Savolainen (2001) reported in their findings that 94% of homicides perpetrated by women were committed within the domestic setting. In Scotland 16 between the years of 1991 and 2000, the Scottish Executive (2001) reported that when women killed intimate partners, 86.6% of the crimes occurred in the home. In addition, Mann’s (1996) analysis of homicide data in the United States reported that 79% of intimate partner homicide’s committed by women happened in the home.

1.3.3 Pathology and the Women Who Kill Because of the fact that women tend to kill intimates, much of the feminist criminological research regarding women who kill has been focused upon intimate partner homicide as understood through intimate partner violence (Chesney-Lind & Pasko, 2004). Victimisation arguably serves as the most frequently cited explanation for a woman who kills and this can include victimisation by a violent intimate partner, as a child through physical, sexual, and emotional abuse or through socio-economic deprivation.

Women who murder are often framed as mad or suffering from some pathology which repositions her offending through lost control or illness and renders her an innocent victim not responsible for her actions. Feminist criminological researchers and legal scholars began to call attention to this explanation for women’s homicide offending during the 1980s. Among the first was legal scholar Hilary Allen (1987), whose research with women who killed asserted that the courts pay more attention to “the mental life of women” in their attempt to comprehend their homicide offending than they do when men kill. More recently, Chan (2001) contends that when pathology is attributed to a woman’s killing, the inquiry typically stops as no further explanation is necessary.

The bad or evil explanation for a woman who kills, lie somewhere between the social consciousness, the prosecution, and the media and utilises the normative frame of femininity as a guide (Morrissey, 2003). Here it is argued that if a woman is not a victim of intimate partner violence, and not a victim of pathology the only reason she would kill is due to an inherent evilness. She is not like other women so she must be bad or evil. Within western cultures, homicide remains largely relegated to the masculine gender. Thus, the frames of badness and evil are substituted for what the western mind cannot reconcile given its adherence to the social discourse of normative femininity, which denies a woman’s propensity for killing.

Normative femininity is a societal discourse which Carlen and Worrall (1987) contend constructs the standard by which women within western cultures are judged. The discourse is the mold from which women are typecast and depicted as kind and nurturing caregivers who are far removed from the perpetration of violence. Within this discourse, the constructs of motherhood and domesticity are key reference points. The ideal domestic woman is characterised by her goodness as realised through her care and nurturing of others. According to Bacon and Landsdowne (1982) the most frequently cited adjective to depict the good woman of the domestic sphere is that of a nurturer. As a consequence, the woman who kills has violated the boundaries of domesticity and normative femininity. Feminist criminologists argue the woman who kills is an anomaly to normative femininity and as such challenges comprehension (see Chesney-Lind, 1993; Faith, 1993; Jensen, 2001; Simpson, 1991; Sommers & Baskin, 1994).

1.4 Turning the Page: Notions of Agency or Volition Feminist criminologists and legal scholars including Allen (1987), Chan (2001), Daly (1994), and Morrissey (2003), have argued that the explanations which centre on victimisation, madness, and inherent evilness are limited in scope and do not account for the complexities of the lives of women who kill. Concern has been expressed regarding how these explanations further victimise the woman who murders by depicting her as sick or unable to control her emotions and behaviour. It was in the mid-1990s when the idea that sometimes a woman makes a rational choice to kill gained currency (Campbell, 1993; Kappeler, 1995). It was Morrissey’s (2003) seminal book entitled: When Women Kill: Questions of Agency and Subjectivity, which argued by casting the woman who commits murder as a victim or labelling her as bad, evil, or sick, we are robbing her of the willingness to kill.

The recognition that a woman can make a conscious and calculated choice to kill served to break the grip of victimisation and notions of bad and evil that held captive the understanding of women who kill. In embracing agency it can be argued that a woman can kill in relation to jealousy, revenge or financial gain (Campbell, 1993). Recognition of agency further dictated that the complexities of the life of a woman who kills warrants consideration. The insertion of agency also brought to attention that victim and agent are as Mahoney (1994) notes not mutually exclusive. In fact, Fitzroy (2001) maintains that agency allows for a possibility of a 18 dynamic existing between agency and victim. Lastly, Pollack (2000) contends agency allows for a woman’s identity, social reality, and experiences to inform her decision to kill and thereby challenges the field not to succumb to an either or dynamic.

1.5 Feminist Criminological Inquiry and Narratives of Women Who Kill Feminist criminological research has engaged the voice of women who violently offend and this line of inquiry has expanded dramatically since 2000. However, the studies include various acts of violence and typically do not incorporate women who commit murder. An additional issue has been that the focus of these studies (see Flemke, 2009; Leisenring, 2006; Wesely, 2006), has been largely relegated to intimate partner violence, the motive for the offending, and to a lesser degree, the relationship of the female offender to the victim. Research on young girls by Meda Chesney-Lind (1993, 1997) and Jody Miller (2008), have included murder in the narratives of young girls who engage in violence and have served to expand upon the pathways to crime theory, but this has not typically been the focus of feminist research on women who kill.

Similarly, while narrative analysis has become an increasingly popular methodology for studying women who perpetrate violence, studies on women who murder have been absent or limited. Further, such inquiries have largely pursued violence related to intimate partner relationships with a focus on determining the motive for the offending. In contrast, this study seeks to further mine the narratives and explore the identities of women who murder through the following research question and sub-questions.

The research question: Which social discourses dominate in the identity formation of women incarcerated with murder convictions?

The sub-questions:  Will there be a resonance between the stories told about the women in court and their own stories regarding their lives and offending behaviours?  Are there key differences between women who acknowledge their criminality and those who deny their violent behaviour and the discourses with which they identify? 19

 Will one discourse dominate in the women’s identity construction?

1.6 Identity Formation The primary aim of this study is to recognise how women who kill construct their identities and with which discourses they identify and with which they reject. In order to do so, it is critical to lay a foundation for identity theory which lies more within the domains of psychology and sociology than in feminist criminology. Research regarding identity theory includes the work of Carol Gilligan (1982) who conveys the roles of attachment and relationships in a woman’s identity and Erikson (1968) and Blumer (1969), who agree that our identities are forged through the observance of others and self-reflection across interpersonal relationships. This is then placed in the context of feminist theorising which states that women arrive at notions of their idealised self by placing far more emphasis upon social relationships than do men (Ogilvie & Clark, 1992). Lastly, a guiding principle for this study was derived from the work of Geiger and Fischer (2005), who conclude that women offenders are faced with the task of developing a favourable identity in light of their violent offending. Identity formation for women convicted of murder is a relatively new endeavour for feminist criminology. This study seeks to shed light upon the ways in which such women understand their behaviour in light of the social narratives about women’s identity formation.

1.7 Methodology and Methods This study has chosen to employ feminist methodologies. According to Reinharz (1992) feminist methodologies seek to provide a voice to the very personal and everyday lives of women, particularly women that are marginalised by society. Feminist methodologies also provide direction for engaging in sensitive research through in-depth interviewing. This study has chosen to utilise a narrative analysis approach. Narrative analysis provides a platform for identifying themes and subthemes relevant to the women’s experiences and identities and supports the feminist approach of giving space and focus to women’s voices.

Finally, original sentencing documents and the appeals documents for each of the women as available from the public domain were obtained. The records were analysed by searching for themes and sub-themes related to the research sub-question that compares and contrast the women’s and the court’s narratives. It should be noted the court narratives play a secondary role with the women’s narratives the focus of this research. However they do serve to 20 highlight the different ways in which discourses can be utilised to make sense of identities in the extreme case of women who murder.

1.8 Organisation of the Thesis The thesis is organised into seven chapters. Chapter Two is the review of the literature. It is established that prior to 1970, the understanding of a woman who kills was generalised from male studies of criminality. However, in the late 1960s and early 1970s, coinciding with second wave feminism, the feminist criminology endeavour emerged. This body of research challenged the existing critiques of female perpetrated violence and included the critical aspects of gender which had been previously overlooked (Klein, 1973). The demographics and characteristics of women who kill presented within feminist criminological research from the 1980s to the 1990s depicted reoccurring features. These included the prominence of ethnic minorities, with most women often aged in their thirties, histories of victimisation to include child abuse and intimate partner violence as well as victimisation by mental illness were recognised. Further established was that among women who kill, their victims were mostly intimates to include intimate partners or their children.

Feminist criminology also moved the discussion beyond the characteristics of women who kill to focus on the explanations for her offending and Lenore Walker’s (1979) conceptualisation of the battered woman syndrome provided a platform from which intimate partner violence rose as a rationale for a woman’s homicide offending. This relationship between victimisation and pathology was also used as a rationale to explain women who kill their children (see Wilczyniski, 1997). However, throughout, concerns were raised with the prevailing tendency to gravitate to rationales of victimisation to explain a woman’s killing.

It was feminist criminologists such as Chan (2001), Jensen (2001) and Morrissey (2003) who sought to expand on the conceptualisation of a woman who kills to encompass the complexities of her life. This shift was supported by the increasing presence of qualitative research which examined the narratives of women who violently offended to include those who killed which recognised that women do make a rational choice to kill (Ajzenstadt, 2009; Batchelor, 2005; Comack & Brickey, 2007; Fitzroy, 2001). Chapter Two concludes with the assertion that criminological research, society and the media have spoken on behalf of the woman who kills. However, little is known regarding her self-identity. How she understands 21 her violence and with which discourses she draws or rejects as she attempts to construct her identity is a recent area of inquiry.

Chapter Three presents the methodological framework. In the 1980s the debate within feminist criminological research about the most appropriate methodology to pursue in the study of criminal offending by women, was won by qualitative inquiry Specifically, it was argued that qualitative research would give voice to the personal and everyday experiences of women who criminally offend (Cancian, 1992; Reinharz, 1992). By the late 1990s, the methodology of narrative analysis had gained considerable support among feminist criminological inquiry (see DeVault, 1997; Polkinghorne, 1995; Wasserfall, 1997). Feminist criminologists Campbell and Wasko (2000), Renzetti and Lee (1993) and Liamputtong (2007) emphasised that engaging such a vulnerable population in such sensitive research was the perfect vehicle for narrative analysis since it provided a platform for women who violently offended to make sense of the events and actions shaping their lives and identities through their personal narratives.

There is little qualitative research that engages the actual voice of the woman incarcerated for murder, partly due to what is identified as the “gate keeping,” which refers to the obstacles that confront researchers who seek to examine incarcerated populations. The challenges begin with the Institutional Review Boards (IRBs) and negotiations with prison administration (Patenaude, 2004). However, when granted permission to research in the prison, obstacles within the institution can also confront the researcher. Such challenges can discourage further steps undertaken to research prison populations and helps to explain why research of incarcerated populations has predominately been quantitative (Patenaude, 2004).

Chapter Four is the first of two data chapters. Four women are introduced, all of whom plead guilty and were convicted of murder. One major theme from their narratives was histories of victimisation, which included childhood victimisation and victimisation by violent male intimates. The response to the victimisations varied dramatically between the women. For some of the women such victimisations were their master identity, while others minimised the impact of such experiences on their lives and identities. Two of the women who were mothers, embraced the discourse of good mother and sought to establish this identity as a master identity. In an attempt to reconcile their homicide offending, each woman imparted a 22 rationale that sought to account for their offending. For some of the women it was deemed an out of character and irrational act. Other women sought to understand their offending through pathology such as intoxication or amnesic states. One woman noted she was determined to assault her victim, not kill him. All four women sought to establish themselves as good women who had not engaged in a prior act of violent offending. Their narratives reflected frustration and anger with societal and media responses to their crime which they claimed failed to take account of their larger life experiences.

Chapter Five considers the narratives of three women who plead innocent. Two of the women were married and charged with the death of their spouse. Another woman was divorced and charged with the killing of a female acquaintance of her estranged boyfriend. An overwhelming theme and master identity noted by all three women was their victimisation by the criminal justice system. This injustice was rooted in their claims of innocence and was echoed in their experiences from the time of arrest, through to their trial. Two of the women maintain their injustices continue with their incarceration. All three women were mothers and two have young children. Their identities as good mothers were critical to them and their separation from their children was noted as a continued victimisation. The women’s identities differ dramatically from those women who plead guilty and their focus is primarily the injustice suffered as innocent women of a corrupt criminal justice system.

Chapter Six is the analysis. In this chapter the themes and sub-themes identified within the narratives are measured in light of the research question and sub-questions. Specifically, the research question sought to learn how the women construct their self-identities. Their narratives parallel the universal explanations of the woman who kills - victim, mad, and bad. The victim discourse in relation to women who kill, primarily relates to a woman’s victimisation in terms of child abuse, intimate partner violence and numerous marginalisations. These aspects of victimisation were realised in their narratives, however, a major theme, especially for the women who did not plead guilty, related to their victimisation by the criminal justice system. For several of the women, victimisation by the criminal justice system served as a master identity. Pathology was also another important theme. Pathology was engaged with by some of the women to account in part for their aberrant behaviour but all avoided identities or labels as mad or mentally ill. Some of the women 23 spoke of their incarceration and how it has caused them to yield to depression. However, they considered their depression as situational and not critical to their actual self-identities.

In all of the narratives, the social discourse of normative femininity was prominent in the women’s identity construction. The two women who were mothers and who admitted their homicide offending, both embraced master identities as good mothers. One of the four women, who was single, also defined herself as a caregiver and nurturer. In fact, all seven women strived to be recognised as good caring women in a seeming effort to counter the bad and evil labels ascribed them.

The sentencing and appeal documents were reviewed for each woman in an effort to understand if the courts identity construction differed from the women’s individual identity construction. The courts acknowledged victimisations in terms of mental illnesses and abuses and relied heavily on the medico-legal expert’s opinions. The courts agreed that these women’s lives were challenging and sad. However, it was argued that each woman chose to perpetuate murder and as such described them and their behaviour in strong adjectives. The crimes were described as heinous, evil and vile. The women were described as motivated by jealousy, greed and selfishness. Interestingly, there was one exception, the woman who cared for her family and placed her life on hold. She was described as a kind and nurturing daughter and sister. This woman epitomised the social construct of normative femininity, a frame of reference for which the court was familiar and comfortable using. She also received the most lenient sentence of the seven women.

Chapter Seven is the conclusion. It emphasises the impetus for pursuit of the research based on the reality that narrative analysis with incarcerated women convicted of murder is absent from feminist criminological inquiry. Key to this research is the substantial influence of normative femininity in the identity construction of the woman who kills. These women have been cast into the pejorative role as one who has broken the code of the good woman and the charge is to re-establish herself as an appropriate woman. This task is more of a challenge for a woman who has killed as compared to the woman who has committed a lesser crime of violence, but most daunting for a woman convicted of murder where intent is implied and thereby the universal explanations of victim and mad are overridden by agency.

Three distinct stories were told. Women who acknowledged their offense primarily sought to reframe their identities as good women. The three women who denied their offending pursued their condemner, an inept and unjust criminal justice system. The court told the story of evil and wicked women killing for financial gain and jealousy.

The women in this research reported a consistent experience of a frustrating and demeaning criminal justice system. In some instances it took two years from their arrest to sentence and many were offered only a few hours in total with their legal team during this period. In addition, all seven women were strongly discouraged from testifying on their own behalf.

This research pursues the self-identities of women who kill. Two of the women in this research spoke candidly about their fears for the future given their identities as murderers. Most women were fearful of what awaits them when released. One woman decried she can never have a normal life while another noted that she would prefer not to leave prison given the notoriety of her criminal case.

This chapter concludes with three prominent findings. First, the demographics and characteristics of the women in this research did not align with the existing literature. Second, there is an enormous influence of the discourses of normative femininity and victimisation on women’s identity formation. Last, women who are convicted of murder have a far greater challenge in negotiating a favourable identity than women convicted of lesser acts of violence or sentenced to acts of homicide that do not infer agency and intent.

Chapter Two: Review of the Literature

2.1 Introduction This chapter is organised into four sections and begins with a brief overview of feminist criminology inquiry and the rationale for limiting the review of literature to this body of research. The next section highlights what is known of the demographics and characteristics of women who kill. This is followed by an overview of the narrative studies of women who perpetrate violence. The final section examines the concept of self-identity and introduces the limited body of knowledge examining the self-identities of women who kill.

The source of information for this review of the literature is committed to research promulgated by feminist criminology from 1970 forward. There are occasional references to statistics from resources such as the Australian Institute of Criminology (AIC) and the United States’ Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). There are a limited number of references to works predating 1970. These references are included for clarification or for comparative purposes and are drawn from articles and books authored primarily by feminist criminologists.

2.2 The Feminist Criminological Endeavour A brief description of the feminist criminological endeavour and its evolution serves to reinforce the decision to draw primarily from this body of research. The actual date of conception for the feminist criminological enterprise is uncertain. Among the first feminist criminologists to challenge mainstream criminology, as a discipline of men who limited their study to the male criminal was Heidensohn (1968). Chronologically, feminist criminologists Klein (1973), Adler (1975), and Smart (1976) are regarded as founding mothers of the feminist criminological project, bringing women into the equation of criminal behavioural research (Chesney-Lind, 2006).

The mission statement for the Feminist Criminology journal provides an expanded explanation for the rationale to vigorously pursue the study of female criminality and emphasises several key principles which capture the essence of feminist criminology.

The main aim of Feminist Criminology is to focus on research related to women, girls, and crime. The scope includes research on women working in the criminal justice profession, women as offenders, and how they are dealt with in the criminal justice system, women as victims, and theories and tests of theories related to women and crime. The feminist critique of criminology incorporates a perspective that the paths to crime differ for males and females and thus research that uses sex as a control variable often fails to illuminate the factors that predict female criminality. This journal highlights research that takes a perspective designed to demonstrate the gendered nature of crime and responses to crime. (2006, p. 4)

In summary, feminist criminology serves as the basis for this review of literature as it seeks to expand upon the existing knowledge base of female criminality with an emphasis upon the gendered nature of crime.

2.3 The Known: Demographics and Characteristics of Women Who Kill and their Victims When discussing offending patterns between men and women, feminist criminological scholars have indicated that the gender gap is most dramatic for acts of violence, particularly for murder (Belknap, 2001; Kruttschnitt, 2001; Pollock, 1999). In her book, Understanding Homicide, Fiona Brookman (2005) illustrated that murders committed over the past three decades have remained largely a male activity (see Chan, 2001; Jensen, 2001; Morrissey, 2003). This male dominance has served to perpetuate the absence of empirical research and theoretical dialogue on women who kill.

That research which has examined women who kill has been dominated by demographic explorations. Specific to Australia, Mouzos (2000) reported that women committed 13% of the total murders between the years 1989 and 1999. Between the time frame of 1985 and 1995, Kirkwood (2003) reported there were 77 murders committed by women within the state of Victoria, Australia or approximately 10 per year. Victorian Law states in order to be convicted of murder, it must be determined the accused acted with the intention to kill or to cause serious injury (Victorian Law Reform Commission, 2002, pp. 1-2). Within the United States, the FBI (2002) reported 21% of all criminal arrests involved women. More 27 specifically, women were responsible for 17% of the total of violent crimes which include murder, forcible rape, armed robbery and aggravated assault and 10% of the total murders.

2.3.1 Who Are Women Who Kill? The NHMP Annual Report (2006-2007) provides a sketch of the Australian woman who kills. First, Indigenous women killed at a rate 14 times their non-Indigenous peers and this has remained consistent since 1990. Another finding of the annual report reveals that 50% of the women who killed had a criminal history, supporting the conclusion that these were not typically an isolated incident, but rather a culmination and a pattern of violent behaviour. In consideration of the age range, the largest representation was women between 20 and 24 years of age. Across Australia, 23% of the women who killed were at the time unemployed. Forty-five percent of the women had documented histories of alcohol abuse.

A study conducted by Hoffmann, Lavigne, and Dickie (1998) provides characteristics of Canadian women who killed. In their sample of 181 incarcerated women, the average age was 31 years. The sample was also heavily weighted with Indigenous women. In terms of criminal histories, 49% percent of the sample had no prior convictions, whereas 33% had one or two charges, and 18% had three to ten convictions. The women also manifest significant histories of substance abuse and other mental health problems. More specifically, 67% had documented histories of substance abuse and 35% had histories of mental health problems with depression being the primary diagnosis.

The characteristics of women who kill within the United States are also well established. A study undertaken by Hardesty, O’Shea and Fletcher (1994) in the state of Oklahoma, reported 36% of the women were of low socio-economic status. The women possessed significant histories of victimisation with 48% acknowledging histories of physical abuse and 37% sexual abuse. According to the Canadian report of the Task Force on Federally Sentenced Women (1990), as many as 53% of women who violently offended had histories of sexual abuse. In an analysis of violence perpetrated by women within the United States, Siegel and Williams (2003) found sexual abuse far more prevalent than physical abuse.

Research conducted in Detroit, Michigan by Goetting (1988), provides a sketch of women who kill residing in a large urban area. The women who killed were over represented by 28

African Americans. A majority of the women were poor and were welfare recipients. The women were largely under educated and lacked specific employment skills. The average age of the women were in their mid-30s and most possessed criminal records. Another study with similar findings was conducted by Scott and Davies (2002) within the state of Georgia. This study reflected several similar findings of Goetting (1988). The women who killed were predominately poor, African American, and with limited education. Many of the women were single mothers.

In summary, the characteristics of women who kill as reflected in studies from Australia, Canada, and the United States, share similarities which include: an over-representation of ethnic minority women; and age range of early 20s to mid-30s; an over-representation of women who are under educated and unemployed. The majority of the women have at least one previous criminal charge and a preponderance of substance abuse and additional mental health issues. The findings related to the demographics and characteristics of women who kill render a profile of a young woman from an ethnic minority who has been marginalised on several fronts.

2.3.2 Who Women Kill According to Jensen (2001) women kill far less often than men and who women kill differs dramatically from men. A consistent finding across feminist criminological research concerning women who kill, lies in the fact when a woman kills she typically kills an intimate partner or her child. This well established distinction was noted by Blum and Fisher (1978, p. 192), that female perpetrated murder is a particularly intimate act. In Australia two studies reinforce that fact that women who kill typically kill intimates. In a content analysis of homicide statistics conducted by Wallace (1986), 81.2% of the victims were a family member, typically a spouse or child. In a later study conducted by Mouzos and Rushforth (2003), Australian homicide records revealed that 62.4% of women killed an intimate or another family member.

Similarly, a study completed in Russia by Messner and Savolainen (2001), reported that 63% of the victims of women who killed were the women’s intimate partners. In her analysis of women who killed within England during the time frame of 1995 to 2001, Brookman (2005) reported 32% of the victims were intimate partners while a further 30% were the women’s 29 sons and/or daughters. In further consideration of child killings, Brookman (2005) estimates that women across England kill children at six times the rate of men. With the preponderance of the killing of intimates by women, Brookman (2005) informs us the vast majority of murders perpetrated by women occur within the home or domestic setting. The Russian study by Messner and Savolainen (2001) reports 94% of the murders by women occurred within the home or private sphere.

Since intimate partners make up the largest grouping of victims of women who kill, a research interest developed into the nature of these relationships. Several studies conducted within the United States in large urban areas yielded the consistent finding that males living in co-habitating relationships were at much greater risk of being murdered by their female partner than men in marital relationships (Daly & Wilson, 1988; Lundsgaarde, 1977; Wilson & Daly, 1992). A study undertaken in Detroit, Michigan by Daly and Wilson (1988) reported that 40% of the women who killed their male partners were residing in a co-habitation intimate partner relationship. Within Houston, Texas, Lundsgaarde (1977) found 40% of the male victims were residing in co-habitating relationships. Subsequently, Wilson, Daly and Wright (1993), determined men residing in cohabitating relationships are 15 times more likely to be killed by their female partner than men in marital relationships.

Interestingly, while women account for approximately 10% of the total homicides in western societies they account for half of child homicides (Schwartz, 2008). Western society’s reaction to a woman who kills her child is to position her as mad or inherently wicked. Child killing is defined within four categories: neonaticide - the killing of a newborn within 24 hours of birth; infanticide - the killing of an infant less than one year old; filicide - the killing of a minor child and prolicide, which differs in that it incorporates the killing of the fetus in utero (Davies, 2008, pp. 162-164). Of the total homicides committed by women in the United States, 19% are child killings compared to 3% for men.

One of the earliest studies attempting to understand child killings committed by women was by D’Orban (1979) in England. She examined all of the cases of women sentenced between the years of 1970 to 1975 for charges of murder and attempted murder of their child. This study was a record review and a narrative analysis. Identified were family, social and psychiatric stressors. Further classification resulted in 40% of the women being labelled as 30 child abusers and 27% as mentally ill (D’Orban, 1979). A study conducted by Baker (1991) of 46 women who committed filicide or the killing of a minor child in Victoria Australia, between 1978 and 1988 concluded that the major motives for filicide included altruism, revenge, rejection, and jealousy. In her conclusions she noted that the motivation for the killing was often multifaceted.

Among all efforts at classifying women who kill their children it is Wilczynski’s (1997) research that remains the most comprehensive. Wilczynski (1997) analysed three samples, two from Australia and one from England. Overall her findings were similar to Baker (1991) in regards to altruistic, disciplinary, and aspects of rejection and jealousy as a motive. However, Wilczynski (1997) also reported the significance of psychosis. Psychosis in relation to post-partum depression and schizophrenia has continued as key rationale for child killing by women. Another classification limited to a sample of American women is that of Michelle Oberman (1996) who like Baker (1991) and Wilczynski (1997) developed a comprehensive classification system for women who kill. The Oberman (1996) system begins to expand on the mental illness explanation.

Many women who commit infanticide do so while suffering from an identifiable mental disability that renders them temporarily or permanently incapable of caring for themselves and/or their children without considerable outside assistance. It is critical to note at the outset that it is not the fact of mental illness or disability alone, but rather a combination of a vulnerable mental health status and social isolation that leads to infanticide. (pp. 32-33)

In summary, Meyer and Oberman (2001, p. 177) challenge “to the extent that we conceive of the crime of infanticide as a rare and exceptional act committed by a deranged or evil woman, we are dangerously wrong.” Oberman (1996) concurs with Baker (1991) and Wilczynski (1997) that when a woman kills a child, a single explanation is inadequate and the whole life of the woman warrants consideration.

Prior to the 1970s domestic violence between spouses was considered private and according to Browne, Williams and Dutton (1999), was not often brought to the attention of the courts. In fact, Davies (2008) notes that prior to 1974, within the United States when a man assaulted 31 his wife, the act was constituted as a misdemeanor. It is then understandable that prior to the 1980s, the experiences of intimate partner violence and intimate partner homicide were not a focus of the research. However, in the 1980s feminist criminologists and feminist legal experts engage the battered woman syndrome and a wave of public education and research related to domestic violence became evident (Walker, 1984).

Arguably, the most dominant explanation for intimate partner homicide perpetrated by a woman has been couched in Walker’s (1984) conceptualisation of the battered woman syndrome (BWS). Briefly, battered woman syndrome is understood through a cycle of violence imposed upon a woman by a violent partner. Walker’s (1984) cycle of violence has three stages. The initial stage is the tension building that may find the woman attempting to quiet the situation wherein mild verbal and physical abuse is present and avoid escalation. The second stage follows failed attempts to curb the violence and the violent behaviours escalate catapulting the women into a survival mode. The last stage is witnessed by the abuser expressing remorse and promise to refrain from the behaviours. The violence returned and a vicious cycle repeats which prompted Walkers (1979) adoption of the theory of learned helplessness to account for the woman’s staying within this hostile and volatile scenario.

However, within a few years feminist legal scholars and criminologists were raising concerns with the syndromisation of a woman’s life experiences and the readiness to embrace a single theoretical construct as an explanation for the battered woman who kills (Dobash & Dobash, 1992; Eastel, 2001). This concern was echoed by Stubbs and Tolmie (1994) who contended a single theoretical construct especially ignored the vast diversity of ethnic and cultural experiences of women who kill. In their analysis of Indigenous Australian women who killed within the context of domestic violence, Stubbs and Tolmie (1994) asserted that typecasting the women as helpless victims portrays inaccuracies. They suggest women of colour and Indigenous women cannot be readily situated within white stereotypes of femininity informed by the social discourse of normative femininity (Stubbs & Tolmie, 1994).

Another major criticism lies within research that examines battered women who chose not to kill their abuser. Research conducted by O’Keefe (1998) and Roberts (1996) introduce evidence suggesting that those women who do kill their abuser also have high rates of substance abuse and extensive histories of childhood traumas and victimisations. The women 32 who kill also have endured more severe abuse over more time. With this in mind, Brookman (2005) argues these findings do not necessarily confirm Walker’s (1984) theory, but rather acknowledge that women who kill are often battered women.

An enduring argument surrounding the woman who kills a violent partner lies in the medicalisation of battered woman syndrome. An extensive review of research regarding women who kill has been conducted by Chan (2001) who maintains that the battered woman and her experiences have been transformed into a psychiatric disorder that requires medical interventions. Furthermore, Dobash and Dobash (1992), Nicolson and Sanghvi (1993) argue that battered woman syndrome has been translated into a psychological abnormality and as such the women become patients with a disease.

Battered women who kill adult intimates often kill within the context of domestic violence. The battered woman syndrome has dominated the understanding of the woman who kills a violent partner (Walker, 1979). This argument is heard also in critique of the battered woman syndrome legal defense for a woman who kills. In their analysis Stubbs and Tolmie (1994) credit the syndrome with raising the awareness of the plight of women, but believe the battered woman syndrome defense to be shortsighted. In another analysis of the battered woman syndrome as a defense plea, Schneider (2000) contends when the plea is entered, the social context from which the homicide arose has not been fully explored. In failing to capture the full social context of the woman’s life, Stubbs and Tolmie (1994) question how the reasonableness for her act can be gauged? Additionally, the battered woman syndrome yields to a false dichotomy between victimisation and agency in rendering all women victims at the expense of denying their individual strengths as survivors. Finally, Mahoney (1994) argues adherence to the explanation of battered woman syndrome prohibits the woman the capacity to depict her experiences for herself and others.

One study conducted in Canada does provide sentencing by gender and in relation to intimate partner homicide. The Department of Justice Canada (2003) drew samples from Toronto, Ontario between the years 1974 to 2002. Findings revealed that males were convicted of murder at 47% and females at six percent. Also identified was that males who killed female intimate partners received Federal Sentences 87% of the time compared to females at fifty- one percent. On average, the males received lengthier sentences by six years. This limited 33 sample of Canadian offenders suggests that women who kill violent male intimates receive far fewer convictions of murder and more lenient sentencing. A study of Californian women incarcerated for homicide in relation to battered woman syndrome defenses reveals convictions. In her sample, Leonard (2001) includes 42 women serving lengthy sentences. Two women were charged with voluntary manslaughter, 18 with second degree murder and 22 with first degree murder. Obvious is that nearly all of the women who acknowledged battering were nonetheless convicted of murder.

Before concluding this section regarding the killing of intimates, it is necessary to note that while the majority of intimate partner homicides are relegated to understandings of intimate partner violence, a small number of these killings have been understood as motivated through self-interest either for sexual or financial gain (Chan, 2001). Furthermore, a small number of intimate homicides are premeditated as the elimination of the partner yields significant financial gain or it allows the furtherance of another relationship (Brookman, 2005). Killings of intimates in relation to battered woman syndrome and for self-gain are obviously different and killing for self-gain by a woman is quite rare. The research in this thesis reveals that four of the seven women killed for self-gain as depicted above by Brookman (2005). Subsequently, three of these four women reported intimate partner violence by their victim. When a woman kills an intimate partner for self-gain, the societal and media response is more extreme than for the women who kills a violent partner (Morrissey, 2003). According to Bell and Fox (1996), when a woman kills outside the explanation of battered woman syndrome, no rational explanation can account for her actions.

A small body of literature exists regarding women who violently offend and/or kill with a male co-defendant. Criminological research reveals typically women play a secondary role through drug related crimes and robberies (Ward, Jackson & Ward, 1979). One stereotype portrays the woman as being coerced by her involvement with domineering and controlling men which has been challenged by Alarid, Marquart, Burton, Cullen & Cuvelier (1996). Another scenario conveyed by Welle and Falkin (2000) cites two additional reasons which include the romantic and non-romantic hypotheses. Briefly, the romantic hypothesis is based in vulnerabilities in one’s relational dynamics whereas the non-romantic hypothesis has its base in a relationship where the woman is abused or threatened to participate.

Since a majority of the victims of women who kill are intimate relations, feminist criminological research has largely focused upon murder related to women who kill their violent intimate partners or their children (Brookman, 2005; Jensen, 2001). Little is known regarding acquaintance or stranger homicides by women (Brookman, 2005). Brookman’s analysis of women who kill within England suggests that these two categories account for approximately 24% of the victims of women who kill. In the study cited earlier of Canadian women who killed, Hoffmann et al., (1998) reported 27% of the women killed intimate partners, a significantly lower percentage than the rates for Australia, England and the United States. The Hoffmann et al., (1998) study consisted of a large sample of 181 women and raised the question if roughly a quarter of the victims were intimate partners, who were the other three quarters? Within their sample, it was asserted more women killed during the course of a robbery than in the context of a violent intimate relationship (Hoffmann et al., 1998, p. 28).

2.4 Explanations for the Phenomenon of the Woman Who Kills According to Jensen (2001), while the act of killing serves to traumatise the psyche of western culture, murder within western culture has been relegated as behaviour peculiar to the masculine gender. As a consequence, when a woman commits murder, the western psyche is further challenged to comprehend how a member of the kinder and nurturing gender could engage in such a display of violence. This social incongruity, coupled with the gender ratio of murder and the tendency to generalise male theories of murder to women (Chesney-Lind, 1989), has served to stifle the continuous and comprehensive study of the phenomenon of the women who kills.

Nevertheless, despite the small amount of research on women who kill, we do have access as a society to explanations for this phenomenon. These include discourses which place the cause of the behaviour in the inherent evilness of the particular women; discourses which call on the normative frame of femininity to explain her offending; and for younger women and girls, pathways to crime theory which make a link between victimisation and offending behaviour. Killing as a rational act of volition is the final explanation which interestingly has more currency in the courts than it does in the feminist literature. Moreover, this discussion is underpinned by Chesney-Lind’s (1989) assertion that there exists no single, readily agreed 35 upon theory to explain the woman who kills. However, there exist risk factors and experiences that are associated with a woman’s taking of a life.

2.4.1 Bad and Evil In addressing the social discourses of bad and evil related to our understanding of the phenomenon of the woman who kills, this discourse’s subjectivities, and lack of associated theories and supporting research are evident in any review of the literature. However, while lacking research credibility, the bad and evil constructs have established a strong foothold in the social consciousness. In her discussion of the universal explanations for a woman who kills, Morrissey (2003) cites the trilogy of victim, mad, or bad.

In her extensive analysis of the court records of women who killed within the state of Queensland Australia, Robertson-Stainsby (2011) records the frequency of adjectives to account for a woman’s act of murder to include wicked, evil, and inhuman. In addition, two researchers examining court depictions of women who kill are Murphy and Whitty (2006), whose research reinforces Robertson-Stainsby’s (2011) observations. They described the court’s grand narratives describing the woman who kills as riddled with references to depraved, demonic, and wicked.

The media has also engaged explicit depictions to account for the act of killing by a woman (Cavaglion, 2008; Nyawanza, 2009). In an analysis of media depictions of women who kill, Krista (1994) noted their acts were referred to as “obscenely inhuman and irreducibly wicked and depraved” (pp. 168-70). It can be argued that men who kill also find themselves clothed in portrayals of wickedness and evil. However, feminist criminologists (see Chan, 2001; Ferraro, 2006; Morrissey, 2003; Quadrelli, 2002) argue that the reaction to a woman who kills is far more extreme and draws more references to evil and bad because it challenges socially normative understandings of femininity.

Another example of the media portrayal of women who kill is that of Huckerby’s (2003) analysis of two women who killed their children. The one mother was a Caucasian nurse who home schooled her children, suffered from depression and was the wife of an engineer. The other mother was a single Asian woman who was marginalised culturally as well as socially and economically. The Caucasian mother was framed as a good woman with a 36 disease (Campbell, 1990), whereas the Asian mother was depicted as a bad mother and not awarded the victim identity even though she was also clinically depressed.

Worrall (1990) for example, asserts that when a woman kills, it is more likely this act will be met with more extreme reactions than when a man kills and she is often deemed as unnatural and inherently wicked. Morrissey (2003) argues that the societal reaction to a woman who kills, serves to inform the media and courts. Despite the significant contributions to the understanding of the phenomenon of a woman who kills, the gravitation to demonise what the western world cannot adequately account for continues. The act of murder by a woman stands opposed to the essential nature of womanhood as realised through the discourse of normative femininity.

2.5 Victimisation In 1994, Heidensohn noted the availability of the victim discourse for women who kill. Essentially, Heidensohn (1994) identified that feminism had offered violent women offenders a means in which to express themselves through the victim discourse. She recognised that prior to the rise of the victim discourse; women who violently offended had limited language or means of explaining their actions to either themselves or to the courts.

Beneath the umbrella of victimisation are several experiences to be discussed to include pathways to crime theory and pathologisation. Pathologisation will incorporate mental illness and substance abuse and an extensive analysis of the battered woman syndrome (BWS). Pathology could rightfully stand alone as a major heading, however, since pathologising a woman’s behaviour serves to further victimise her, it is situated under the heading of victimisation.

2.5.1 Pathways to Crime Theory Girls and young woman who violently offend and kill are primarily understood through the pathways to crime theory (Chesney-Lind & Rodriguez, 1983; Chesney-Lind & Sheldon, 1998; Joe & Chesney-Lind, 1995). However, a recurrent theme arises in the analysis of violent offending by these girls and young women in the prevalence of a range of victimisations. Research conducted on the violent offending of girls and young women convincingly and consistently demonstrates that young girls and women who violently offend 37 as a rule, experience extensive victimisations (see Acoca, 1999; Batchelor, 2005; Chesney- Lind & Rodriguez, 1983; Daly, 1992; Gaardner & Belknap, 2002; Gilfus, 1992; Johnson 2003; Klein & Chao, 1995: Seigel & Williams, 2003; Silbert & Pines, 1981; Widom, 2000).

The pathways to crime theory is provided by and draws on the relationship between life’s experiences, particularly those in childhood which may be associated with later violent offending (Alarid & Cromwell, 2006; Gaardner & Belknap, 2002). The earliest research in this area (see Chesney-Lind & Rodriguez, 1983; Silbert & Pines, 1981) proposed a continuum or pathway wherein a girl becomes involved with drugs, runs away from home, and engages in criminal behaviour like prostitution. More specifically, the research by Gaardner and Belknap (2002), sought to understand the role of victimisations in cases where girls committed extreme acts of violence that resulted in their being tried as adults.

In an effort to determine if there exists causality between victimisation and subsequent violent offending, Rivera and Widom (1990) compared girls with boys, both of whom had endured extensive victimisations. The Rivera and Widom (1990) study revealed severe abuse and neglect was not associated with acts of violence for boys, but it was for girls. Less research has been undertaken to draw the relationship between victimisations and young boys who violently offend. However, Ness (2010) notes that the limited research finds the focus more on physical victimisation as opposed to sexual victimisation, as underlying subsequent violence. Gaardner and Belknap’s (2002) research also concluded that girls exposed to severe victimisations had high rates of violent offending. Their closing summary noted that these girl’s lives were filled with multiple victimisations and traumas.

Similarly, Chesney-Lind and Sheldon (2004) note upwards of 73% of girls who violently offend have histories of abuse. Likewise, in Belknap and Holsinger’s (2008) study of young girls who perpetrated violence, 59% reported they had been sexually violated. However, Belknap and Holsinger (2008) issue a word of caution. Not all girls who have experienced victimisation and marginalisation engage in violence. Further, the media’s attempt to portray young girls as becoming increasingly violent is associated with minimal research support for this phenomenon (Chesney-Lind & Paramore, 2001). What is also not clear is why victimisations have been demonstrated to be more closely linked with violent offending when experienced by girls and young women than they have for boys and young men. Finally, the 38 pathways to crime theory, is largely supported by samples of girls and young women who violently offended with very few samples incorporating girls who have murdered.

In concluding this section addressing violence by young girls, it is clear that homicide offending has not been a focus of the inquiry. In recognition of this gap, Heide (2003) sought to complete a meta-analysis of the available feminist criminological research on this topic. Heide (2003) reported that she was able to locate just seven studies that specifically addressed homicide offending by young girls. Additionally, the studies were limited in that most were written in a case study fashion. As such, Heide (2003) commented the information was largely descriptive. The studies of Ewing (1987) and Heide (2003) however, reveal some consistencies. Young girls typically kill family members and often act with an accomplice. A large category of homicide offending by young girls was identified by Ewing’s (1987) research that found young pregnant girls often murder their child at the time of birth or shortly thereafter. A more recent study of 29 girls who killed was provided by Roe-Sepowitz (2007). This study identified that the girls experienced significant family disruption. In keeping with the girl’s pathways to crime theory, 30% of the girls had been sexually abused while nearly 70% had a previous charge of delinquency.

2.6 Pathology and Women Who Kill 2.6.1 Domestic Violence and Battered Woman Syndrome (BWS) Feminist criminologists view domestic violence as an abuse of power (Hegarty, Hindmarsh, & Gilles, 2000) which “may include not only the intimate partner relationships of spousal, live-in partners and dating relationships, [but] also familial, elder, and child abuse [which] may be present in a violent home” (National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, 2005, p. 1).

As previously noted, victimisation in relation to women who kill has focused primarily upon women who suffer at the hands of violent men (Gelsthorpe & Morris, 1990), and as such has become a dominant social discourse available for women who kill. Such an explanation rests upon a range of victimisations which may include having grown up in violent and abusive home environments, or having an adult relationship which results in abusive and controlling behaviours. Such an explanation can serve to position a woman who kills more as victim 39 than an offender, and this is most often done through a pathologising discourse of battered woman syndrome.

Briefly, battered woman syndrome (BWS) is an explanation for violence which suggests that a woman may react in uncharacteristic ways due to a pattern of psychological and physical abuse levied by her male partner (Walker, 1979). In terms of symptoms, Walker categorises them into two distinct groups. The first group she refers to as “fight or flight” which incorporates the physiological and mental status reactions (Walker, 1979, p. 32). The second group centres upon the abuse’s impact on the cognitive or thought processes, judgment, and the memory. This clouding of thought and judgment effects a woman’s decisions to respond appropriately or inappropriately to current abuse or imagined past abuse (Walker, 1979). This limited overview of the battered woman syndrome is cited to demonstrate the way in which a pattern of abuse can impact on the victim physiologically and cognitively.

While there has been debate over the utility of battered woman syndrome as an explanation for women who kill, controversy arose with feminist criminologists and legal scholars (see Morrissey, 2003; Naylor, 1990; Stubbs & Tolmie, 1994), expressing concern that the plea of diminished responsibility served to further pathologise these already victimised women.

This is partly because of the evidence which demonstrates that the largest group women kill are their intimate partners, and that many have been subjected to a long term pattern of violence. Several studies serve to reinforce the long term impact extensive violence has upon the women who kills a violent intimate partner. In a study conducted by Ewing (1987) of battered women who killed their violent male partners, 29 of the killings occurred at a time when there was a lull in the violence. Also, research by Browne (1987) compared women who killed their violent male partner with those who did not. Both studies sought to demonstrate the presence of extensive violence and threats of death. This thought aligns with Walker’s (1979, 1984) reasoning that some women, given the continuous and extensive violence, and likelihood of future violence may believe it necessary to remove the batterer from the landscape of her life.

Marital rape is another aspect of domestic violence. It is estimated that 10% to 14% of all married women experience marital rape (Russell, 1990). In a later study, undertaken by 40

Randall and Haskell (1995) it was found that marital rape accounts for 25 % of the total number of rapes experienced by women. Two others who examined marital rape include Browne (1993) and Campbell (1989), who assert between one third and one half of battered women are raped by their intimate partners. However, the relationship between marital rape and subsequent violence by a woman has not been extensively examined.

Identifying the experiences of domestic violence and particularly intimate partner violence has served to shed light upon a well-kept secret, that inescapable is the fact that when a woman kills within a western nation, the victim is most likely an intimate and often a violent partner. However, we must be careful not to rush to pathologise the woman and ignore the complexities of her larger life (Morrissey, 2003; Stubbs & Tolmie, 1994).

2.6.2 Mental Illness: The Pathology and Mad Discourse In previous discussion of the demographics of women who kill was the high incidence of mental illness among which substance abuse is most prevalent. Feminist criminological researchers (see Carlen, 2002; Kirkwood, 2000; Lloyd, 1995; Wilczynski, 1995) contend pathology is recognised as a universal explanation for the woman who kills. Mental illnesses and substance abuse have been long associated with the woman who kills across western nations to include Australia (see Wallace, 1986), England (see Chan in Chan, Chunn & Menzies, 2005), the United States (see O’Keefe, 1998), and Finland (see Putkonen, Collander, Weizmann-Henelius & Eronen, 2007). The Hardesty et al., (1994) study from the United States, found that 29% of the sample of women who killed had well established histories and treatment for mental illness. The Canadian study of 181 women who killed completed by Hoffmann et al., (1998), reported 35% of the women had well documented histories of mental illness (see also Abel, 1987; Chan, 2005; Hardesty et al., 1994).

While, the presence of mental illness and substance abuse in the lives of women who kill is inescapable, feminist criminologists have raised concerns with emphasising pathology as an explanation for women who kill. Feminist psychologist Phyllis Chesler (1972) was perhaps the first to point out the high degree of pathologisation of women in her classic work: Women and Madness. Among the first to address the pathologising of women who kill was feminist legal scholar Hilary Allen (1987) and criminologist Ann Worrall (1990), both of whom viewed the pathologising as a further victimisation. Worrall (1990) also suggests that 41 pathologisation allows a woman who kills to remain a good woman who simply has a disease. In contrast, men who kill are rarely deemed to be mad because masculinity is able to accommodate aggression in a way that femininity cannot. This is especially evident during the courtroom trial. In her analysis of courtroom records, Allen (1987) for example, draws the distinction between frank mental illness and a troubled mind. Allen (1987) found less dialogue in the courts regarding distinct pathology and more depictions of a woman who is helplessly tied to her emotions. As such, Allen (1987) contends that women are most often victimised by her emotionality. Subsequently, the woman who kills is more often thought a victim of her emotions than a distinct mental illness.

Another experience often equated with pathology and a woman who kills is that of amnesia (Evans, 2006). In a study of Finnish men and women who killed, Hakkanen, Weizmann- Henelius, Putkonen and Laurema (2008) reported that half of the women could not recall various events surrounding their offense. The Hakkanen et al., (2008) argued that many of the women in their sample developed amnesia as a defense mechanism to fend off subsequent shame and guilt. Amnesia may therefore be equated with pathology and irrationality.

Another concern raised by feminist criminologists and feminist legal scholars lies in the ratio at which women who kill are referred to mental health professionals, as well as the response to the women by the professionals. Among the first to call attention to the ever increasing presence of the mental health professionals in the assessment of women who kill were Carlen and Worrall (1987). However, one of the most extensive examinations of the role of the mental health expert in addressing women, who kill, is found in Chan’s (2001) book titled: Murder, Women, and Justice. In her analysis she notes that women who kill are far more likely to be labelled mentally ill than their male counterparts, and are referred to the medico- legal mental health experts at higher rates (Chan, 2001).

The statistic that the largest two victim groupings of women who kill are the women’s intimate partners and her children has yielded to understandings of pathology. This is especially the case with women who kill their children. One who has studied extensively the phenomenon of the women who kills her child is Wilczynski (1997) who argues that a label of pathologisation is prevalent in cases where women kill their children. In her analysis, Wilczynski (1997) contends that in large part, this occurs because such behaviour challenges 42 the frame of normative femininity as realised through the construct of the good mother. In comparing men and women who kill their children, Wilczynski (1997) found men are depicted as bad and normal, but she concurs with Worrall (1981) that mothers who kill children are deemed mad and abnormal.

The majority of women who commit murder are mothers (Chan, 2001; Jensen, 2001). Western culture portrays the good mother as an esteemed vocation and the pinnacle of womanly accomplishment (Rich, 1986; Showalter, 1987). The good mother is instinctually helplessly loving and nurturing of her child. It is argued that the good mother identity is held to a higher standard than the good woman of domesticity (Oakley, 1979). The attributes of the good mother are realised in the depictions of the ideal or perfect mother. A concern of feminists has been the social locations of the good mother.

The good mother is heterosexual, married, and monogamous. She is white and native born. She is not economically self-sufficient (unless she is independently wealthy in which case her husband handles the estate) and she is unemployed. (Arendell, 1999, p. 3)

The discourse of the good mother further shapes what good mothers do and how good mothers should feel (Krane & Davis, 2007). The doing requires constant availability which requires never setting aside her child for her own expediency. In terms of how a good mother should feel, Johnson and Swanson (2003) imply a good mother is a happy mother whereas an unhappy mother is a failed mother.

The pathologisation of women who kill children is further realised in their actual experience with the mental health experts. In consideration of the extent of mental health interventions of both men and women charged with killing their children, Wilczynski (1997) disclosed that women receive far more psychiatric evaluations than their male counterparts. Further, the women have significantly more insanity pleas filed. More specifically, Wilczynski (1997) identified that 64% of the women that killed their children plead insanity as compared to 30% of the males. A question raised by Wilczynski (1997), was how might our social understanding of masculinity and femininity influence these decisions on sentencing outcomes? Wilczynski (1997) reported that among the women who plead insanity, 87.5% 43 received psychiatric reports which recommended hospitalisations and non-custodial sentencing. However, 84% of the men who plead insanity were sent directly to prison (Wilczynski, 1997).

In her comprehensive examination of women who kill, Chan (2005) shares some interesting observations that reflect the tendency to view a woman who kills through the associated lenses of pathologisation and victimisation. In her study, Chan (2005) sought to arrive at an understanding of the content and approach of psychiatric evaluations given to women who kill their intimate partners. She found that the pursuit of whether or not the woman was abused by her partner was paramount. Women were vigorously questioned regarding the nature of the relationship with her victim in an effort to unmask any history of abuse. This may seem as a reasonable search in light of possible abuse. However, Chan (2005) concluded that when abuse was present, it was immediately assumed the woman was engaged in a dysfunctional relationship which contributed to her mental illness. Chan (2005) asserts that a woman’s victimisation accounted to some degree for her pathology and her resultant pathology accounted wholly or partly for her aberrant behaviour.

In closing, Chan (2005) would argue there exists an over medicalising of women who kill, wherein a sickness can be created which becomes a focus for understanding her behaviour. However, Allen (1987) and Chan (2001) caution that a diagnosis or being treated for a mental illness should not be the end of the story. Rather it may be the case that women in the general population display a higher usage of mental health services than their male peers (Carlen & Worrall, 1987; Chan, 2001). Additionally, women who kill are referred to mental health services at a significantly higher rate after being admitted to the criminal justice system (Allen, 1987; Chan, 2005). Finally, Allen (1987) and Chan (2005) argue the rush to pathologise a woman via her victimisation, ignores the fact that she nevertheless can make a rational and intentional choice to kill.

2.6.3 The Influence of Substance Abuse Within western medicine, mental illness is determined by two diagnostic manuals. Every adult and child mental disorder that has been identified is described within the World Health Organisation’s (2000) ICD-10 Classification of Mental and Behavioural Disorders or the American Psychiatric Association’s (2000) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual DSM-IV-TR. 44

The two diagnostic manuals are remarkably similar in their classifications and as such, when a study in a nation that utilises the ICD-10 speaks of posttraumatic stress disorder or major depression, this does not confound a researcher in a nation that endorses the DSM-IV-TR. Australia engages the ICD-10. The two manuals are updated in concert to maintain consistencies across the two. The Australian, English, and Canadian studies cited tend to utilise the ICD-10, wherein the United States has used the DSM-IV-TR.

Before fully engaging the relationship between substance use disorders and the woman who kills, it is important to establish that abuse and dependence upon alcohol or drugs are mental disorders in their own right. They are not simply a symptom of another problem such as depression or posttraumatic stress disorder (Daley & Moss, 2002). As a mental disorder, they are a pathology or a disease. Moreover, alcohol and drug use has been associated with all types of violent behaviours, including murder. Steadman et al., (1998) analysed 40 studies of men and women who engaged in violence, and found that alcohol use was involved in half of the offenses for both males and females. In an extensive epidemiological study conducted within the United States by Steadman et al., (1998), it was argued that the likelihood of violent offending increases 10 times when a man or a woman has a history of substance abuse. In their research, with regard to women who killed, a study conducted by Jordan, Schlenger, Fairbank, and Caddell (1996) stated that substance use disorders were most prevalent in these women’s histories, with depression a distant second, followed by personality disorders. Another study undertaken in England in the late 1990s by Singleton, Meltzer, Gatward, Coid, and Deasy (1998), reported 40% of the women who killed had diagnosable alcohol problems.

Much less is known regarding drugs other than alcohol when women kill. Often when a woman who kills acknowledges a drinking problem or if it is documented in her history, other illicit drug use is not pursued (Mann, 1990). An examination of the literature related to women who kill and substance abuse finds few references to drugs other than alcohol. This may in part be in relation to alcohol’s unique relationship with violence. One of the few studies citing drug use is the Hardesty et al., (1994) conducted within Oklahoma, wherein 26% of the women who committed murder acknowledged they had a drug problem.

Alcohol has long been suspected to be causally related to violence. In a recent study of male and female inmates incarcerated for acts of violence, Felson and Staff (2010) sought to see which acts of violence were most related to alcohol use for men and women. It was discovered that alcohol plays a significant role in robbery and burglary, but alcohol’s strongest relationship was with homicide and sex offenses for both men and women. A meta- analysis of homicide studies was undertaken by Abel (1987), and it was found that half of the women who killed were under the influence of alcohol and to a lesser degree drugs at the time of the offense. In an analysis of the data from the United States Arrestee Drug Abuse Monitoring Report (1998), 16% of the women who killed were under the influence of alcohol at the time of the crime as compared to 14% of the males.

Feminist criminology has not vigorously pursued this relationship between substance abuse and the woman who kills. One can speculate this lack of inquiry is related in part to substance abuse further pathologising and victimising the women who kills. It may also be explained in Card’s (1984) drawing of the relationship between substance abuse and the plea of diminished responsibility. It can be argued that the lack of interest in this area is related to substance abuse further labelling women as sick or pathological, in the same vein as does posttraumatic stress disorder, borderline personality disorder, and depression. Because feminist criminologists have been much more interested in issues of power and abuse, alcohol was seen as a symptom of her inequality rather than the cause of her offending.

In Felson and Staff’s (2010) study, it was discovered that among women who killed, alcohol related disputes between a woman and her male partner were most prominent. Three additional feminist criminological studies are identified which attempt to unravel the relationship between substance abuse and the woman who kills. Interestingly, all three studies considered women who killed within the context of intimate partner violence. The three studies further sought to explore the relationship between drinking at the time of the murder. The earliest of the studies was conducted by Goetting (1987) in an urban area in the United States. Within her sample, 37% of the women who killed their intimate partner acknowledged drinking prior to their offending. Important to note, is within Goetting’s (1987) study, autopsies were performed on the victims of the women and 47% of the males were positive for alcohol.

The second study completed by Mann (1990) closely parallels Goetting’s (1987) research. Mann’s (1990) study, also conducted in the United States, measured the number of women who killed that were drinking at the time and the number of the victims who were also positive for alcohol. Among the women who killed, 36% reported drinking prior to the act, and autopsies identified that 58% of the male victims tested positive for alcohol. A further analysis was included in Mann’s (1990) study in gauging legal intoxication among the victims. At the time of autopsy, 22% of the male victims were at the legal limit for alcohol intoxication. In contrast, in her study of women who kill in England, Chan (2005) undertook a review that found 60% of the women had been drinking prior to committing murder. Further striking is her finding that 84% of the victims upon autopsy were deemed intoxicated.

With regard to drugs other than alcohol, not a single study was identified that provided a breakdown of specific drugs present among women who kill. This is surprising as many women who kill acknowledge drug abuse histories. For example, in a study by Spunt, Brownstein, Crimmins, and Langley (1996), it was reported that marijuana was the most frequently cited illicit drug abused in their sample of 215 women who had committed murder. However, in reviewing some of the seminal works concerning women who kill and substance abuse, Mann (1990) found that, as a rule, controlled substances including heroin, cocaine, and prescription medications were not screened. Thus, while the use and abuse of illicit and prescription drugs have not been linked directly to homicide offending by women, alcohol has been causally linked to all acts of violence among women and in particular homicide offending (Hore, 1988).

The lack of feminist legal and criminological inquiry pertaining to substance abuse and women who kill has been identified and it is suggested that for some feminist criminologists, substance abuse is avoided as it tends to further pathologise and victimise a woman who kills. However, feminist criminological research appears heavily invested in research specific to the battered woman syndrome. It could be argued that acknowledging substance abuse clouds the central lines of inquiry in a feminist analysis which focuses on inequality and power. It may also be perceived that a woman who has killed is doubly damned. She has broken the law of the land and transgressed the frame of normative femininity, and adding the label of an alcoholic or drug addict is analogous to a triple damnation. The full extent and the 47 nature of the relationship between substance abuse and the woman who kills, continues to remain largely unexplored.

2.6.4 Agency, Willingness, or Volition According to feminist legal scholar Allen (1987), and feminist criminological scholar Daly (1994), the majority of feminist criminological inquiry surrounding women who kill is victim based. Further, the victim, mad, and bad discourses have served to crowd out other plausible explanations (Morrissey, 2003; Stubbs & Tolmie, 2005). This monopoly has limited the available discourses for a woman who kills to draw from as she considers her own violence and identity construction.

Women who have been victims of intimate partner violence and kill their abuser are further victimised in a variety of ways (Browne, 1987; Goetting, 1988; Jensen, 2001). If the woman who kills is labelled as mad, or mentally ill, she has been victimised by an illness or disease which renders her a hapless victim lacking self-control (see Chan, cited in Chan, Chunn & Menzies, 2005). When a woman kills and she is framed as bad or evil, she is cast far outside the realm of normative femininity and judged as an anomaly (Krista, 1994; Kappeler, 1995; Morrissey, 2003). The prominence of these universal explanations for a woman who kills, have resulted in what Morrissey (2003) proclaims is a habitual connection between a woman’s victimisations and her act of murder. Morrissey (2003) adds that this gravitational pull towards a victimised understanding serves to overshadow notions of agency or willingness.

Criminologists to include Dorie Klein and June Kress (1976) and Pat Carlen (1983, 1985), played crucial roles in the emerging feminist criminology of the late 1970s and 1980s. It was argued by Klein and Kress (1976) that the violent female offender was never recognised as a threatening force. In speaking of stereotypes of violent female offenders, Allen (1987) notes they were depicted as hysterics who were irrational and thereby not responsible for their criminality. Key to this discussion is a statement from Klein and Kress (1976) who find that women who violently offend are rarely depicted as rational or willful.

The goal of discussion here is to introduce and discuss the notions of a woman’s rational choice to kill. If a woman’s killing is continually relegated to a premise wherein she is 48 fleeing an abusive home or relationship or is suffering from a mental illness, we are overlooking aspects of reasoning and logical thought.

In Brownstein et al., (1994) study in which the narratives of 9 women who killed were analysed, women revealed they intentionally killed in relation to their work in the drug trade. Women spoke of killing because they were angry at the victim. Some women killed in an effort to intimidate a competitor. One woman indicated that her boss ordered her to kill a man and she complied. Two of the women detailed their plans to rob individuals and in the course of the robbery, a struggle pursued and the women killed their victim. Granted, this is a small sub-group of women who kill and those involved in the drug trade which is itself marred with violence. It could be argued that women engaged in drug trafficking are largely marginalised and victimised themselves. However, the women in Brownstein et al., (1994) study acknowledged they made a conscious decision to grievously harm or kill and agreed a great deal of thought and planning was exercised.

A study by Kruttschnitt and Carbone-Lopez (2006), sought to allow women who violently offend to be recognised as actors who were responsible human subjects; challenging the prevailing notions that women who violently offend are either aggressively evil or an incapacitated victim. Their study recognised that women can violently offend and kill in relation to jealousy and self-respect. It was also recognised violence does not always occur in the private sphere of the home, but can take place in the public sphere (Kruttschnitt & Carbone-Lopez, 2006). This study reinforces that a woman’s killing may occur across a wide array of circumstances that are not limited to victimisations and pathologies, intimate relations and the private sphere. Women make a rational choice to kill motivated by financial gain, jealousy, and revenge.

Agency is thus introduced here as another explanation for a woman who kills. This leads to a discussion of the victim and offender dichotomy. According to Mahoney (cited in Fineman & Mykituk, 1994), feminist criminological research has brought attention to western thought where victim and agent are viewed as mutually exclusive. Mahoney (1994, p. 64) insightfully states: “in our society, agency and victimization are each known by the absence of the other: you are an agent if you are not a victim and you are a victim if you are in no way an agent.” Similarly Fitzroy (2001) and Pollack (2000) caution against limiting our 49 understandings to either victimisation or agency as explanations for women who kill. Fitzroy (2001) encourages feminist criminology to expand their understanding of women’s oppressions across the broad spectrum of their lives while still allowing for agency. Both Fitzroy (2001) and Mahoney (1994) advocate incorporating the complexities of the life of a woman who has killed, as this allows for a dynamic to exist between agency, victimisation, and pathology. In other words, when a woman kills, her social realities and experiences serve to inform her decision.

In her book, Neither Angels nor Demons, Kathleen Ferraro (2006) provides one of the most comprehensive analyses of the victim and offender dichotomy available. In her study, she engaged 43 women and two men charged with intimate partner violence. Specific to this current study is the sub-group of 23 women who committed or attempted homicide. In her analysis, Ferraro (2006) considered the impact of knowledge, power, and experience as it manifest in the lives of the women who were victims of intimate partner violence and who committed crimes themselves.

Ferraro (2006) argues that the women reside in two social locations regarded as mutually exclusive in victim and offender. Her contention is that the boundaries between lived lives are blurred and as such do not fit into neat socially constructed compartments (Ferraro, 2006). A further argument of Ferraro’s (2006) rests in the notion that intimate partner violence is a social construct and as such is fluid. As a social construct, the experience is translated into a language and one she finds saturated with judgments. Prior to arriving at the social construct of intimate partner violence in the 1990’s, battered woman and domestic violence had a language of their own. Through her extensive interactions with women who were victims and offenders, Ferraro (2006) recognised the complexity of this phenomenon. In referring to the victim offender dichotomy, Ferraro (2006, p.45) adds “the tenuous boundaries between victim and offender, love and fear, and self and other, challenge the knowledge that has developed in the field of intimate partner violence.” The victim/offender in Ferraro’s (2006) study are not wholly representative of the truth of the social construct of intimate partner violence and demonstrates more complex realities. As her book title intimates, the women are Neither Angels not Demons as the boundaries are blurred.

So far, this review of literature has served to introduce the feminist criminological enterprise and the rationale for using this body of literature to guide the research. As communicated by Chesney-Lind (1989), there is no single agreed upon theory for the woman who kills, though emphasis is placed on the universal explanations of victimisation, pathology and inherent evilness (Morrissey, 2003). Agency or willingness is rarely discussed in this context but reinforces the need to avoid an either/or dichotomy of victim/offender and to remind us of the complexities of the lives of women who kill.

2.7 Narratives of Women Who Kill Crime statistics can describe the woman who kills and theories can help us understand why a woman kills, but the feminist criminological research portfolio contains minimal studies engaging the spoken narratives of women who kill. There are obvious reasons for this gap in research. Chief among these is the fact that many women who murder are serving long term prison sentences and are thereby a difficult to reach population. In addition, given the gender ratio for homicide offending, the number of women who kill has simply not yielded large enough sample sizes for researchers to vigorously pursue this population.

2.7.1 Identity Formation Identity formation has been the property of psychological and sociological theory. Social psychologists namely Marcia (1966) and Erikson (1968) were among the first to conceptualise identity theory. Briefly, Erikson (1968) defined identify formation as a process initiated in late adolescence that culminates in young adulthood. Identity formation maintains that an individual forms his/her identity by observing others and reflecting upon their own self-perceptions.

Feminists engaged in social science research raised concerns with some of Erikson’s (1968) notions as well as the research from which he arrived at his theory. A primary contention is the theory’s close adherence to a psychological focus which Schwartz (2006) contends overlooks social processes and shifting environmental forces. Another concern is identified by Josselson (1987) who argues that the theory placed too much emphasis on the identity of a woman as dependent upon her husband. Whether or not Erikson’s (1968) and Marcia’s (1966) theories of psychosocial stages of identity development can stand up to rigorous scientific inquiry, has been another challenge (Schwartz, 2006). Further criticism of 51

Erikson’s (1968) study centred upon his samples consisting largely of white college participants which have little relevance to marginalised populations (Yoder, cited in Biaggio & Hersen, 2000).

A theory that possesses significant relevance for the study of criminality is symbolic interaction. The initial conceptualisation of this theory is often credited to Mead (1934) and her student Blumer (1969) who served to expand upon the theory. It essentially implies that identity is forged through interpersonal relationships. As such, symbolic interaction shares with Erickson’s (1968) identity formation a reliance upon how individuals view themselves, perceive others, and believe others distinguish them. Mead (1934) and Marsh and Hattie (1996), are researchers that write of the utility of symbolic interaction for the study of criminality. The theory suggests that labels cast upon individuals by others become incorporated in self-concepts which in turn inform identities. A key study related to the identities of women who violently offend is that of Geiger and Fischer (2005), who propose that women offenders who perceived they were devalued by others tend to devalue their own self-image.

Another key feature to the identity construction of women is highlighted in the work of feminist psychologist Carol Gilligan (1982), who emphasises the critical nature of women’s attachments and relations. Other researchers who endorse the vital role of attachments and relationships in the development of self-identity include Brown and Gilligan (1992), Campbell (1993), Cross and Madson (1997), and Sands (1996). Mann (1996) has conducted extensive research with women who violently offend and reinforces the importance of close relationships to the psychological well-being and identities of young girls and women. In making the distinction between the identities of men and women, Lyons (1983), Mackie (1983), and Stern (1990), note that men tend to define themselves in terms of their individuality whereas women define themselves in their connectivity with others.

The significance of relationships to the woman offender is further realised in the work of Ferraro and Moe (2003), and Comack and Brickey (2007), who considered the efforts of female offenders to establish positive identities in light of their deviant behaviours. In both studies, the women were most distressed by references to being unfit or bad mothers. In Ferraro and Moe’s (2003) study, many of the women tended to define motherhood as their 52 most significant life’s accomplishment and attacks upon this status were vehemently challenged. In a Finnish study of homeless women who had their children removed from their custody Granfelt (1998) wrote of the devastation to a woman’s identity when this occurs. Granfelt (1998) further notes that for many women loss of her child/children serves as a starting point for their lives to spin out of control.

Two studies that reference the notion of attaining one’s idealised self are by Boggiano and Barrett (1991), and Ogilvie and Clark (1992). In their discussions of an idealised self, women in both studies included far more references to their desire for social relationships than did men. In the Geiger and Fischer (2005) sample which compared male and female offenders, it was pointed out that women had far more difficulty in disengaging from disruptive and troublesome relationships than their male counterparts. The perception was that this occurred because of the value women ascribe to their relationships (Geiger & Fischer, 2005).

A key theory of identity that predates the work of Erikson (1968) and Marcia (1966) is the concept of master identity (Hughes, 1945). The master identity or master status as espoused by Hughes (1945) implies that certain roles or identities far outweigh any others in significance. In the analysis of the narrative studies which follow, master identities are depicted which focus on their significance for the women. The social discourse of normative femininity stands prominent as a master identity via that of good mother and good woman. However, equally as compelling are master identities that are rooted in aspects of victimisation, whether that be abuse as an adult or child, or at the hands of the criminal justice system.

2.7.2 Identity Construction through Narratives Spoken narratives bring a unique perspective to the understanding of violence perpetrated by women as they tell a story. Barthes (1977) suggests that a narrative easily substitute’s meaning for the simple copy of recalled events. A similar perspective communicated by Polkinghorne (2005) is that narrative does more than present a chronicle of events as it leans more towards a plot. According to Sampson and Laub (1993), the narratives of women who violently offend are crucial in the identification of the social processes that bring stability and subsequent change in deviant and criminal behaviours. 53

To begin with, it is helpful to position the task before the women. Women who violently offend and particularly those who kill have been ascribed deviant and disturbed identities (Lloyd, 1995; Naffine, 1996). According to Geiger and Fischer (2005), the goal for the majority of women in this position is the negotiating of a favourable identity. This challenge is further established by Burke (2001) and Gubrium and Holstein (2001) who identify that the key goal for such women is communicating a pro-social identity in light of their label as a murderer. The gulf between the good woman depicted by normative femininity and identity as a woman who has made a conscious choice to kill, poses an enormous challenge to negotiate.

The construct of the good woman reiterates the power the family system has over a woman. The good woman is often associated with domesticity; the woman of domesticity is characterised by her goodness. In this role the good woman assumes the responsibility in caring for others (Bacon & Landsdowne, 1982). This is further depicted in Thorton’s (1995) contention that the good woman places the needs of all others over her own. The adjective most often associated with the good woman construct is that of nurturer. It is within the sphere of the domestic setting where this nurturing is primarily exercised. Specifically, the dictate to women and young girls is to nurture the immediate and extended family. If the nurturing of the good woman prevails, future generations of women are socialised to perpetuate domestic accord within the domestic sphere (Belknap, 2007; Naffine, 1996).

2.7.3 In Their Own Voices: The Woman’s Perspective The studies introduced here contain samples that include various acts of violence. No study was identified whose participants consisted only of women incarcerated for convictions of murder, where intent is implied (Victorian Law Reform Commission, 2002). The available studies are also dominated by women whose offending was intimate partner violence, and whose behaviour is thus positioned in the context of victimisation.

One example is the study conducted by Flemke (2009) of 37 women all of whom were incarcerated for charges related to intimate partner violence. Flemke (2009) hypothesised that repeated victimisations would serve as a trigger to women’s violent offending. More specifically, Flemke (2009) sought the relationship between unresolved childhood victimisations and intimate partner violence triggering rage and subsequent aggression. The 54 women communicated the relationship between the anger and painful childhood memories, with 90% of them associating at least one powerful childhood memory of abuse associated with their more current rage and violence. It was further discovered that two thirds of the women vividly recalled their first episode of adulthood rage occurring within their intimate partner relationship. In reflecting upon this episode, the women related it to the physical and sexual abuse they experienced as young girls (Flemke, 2009).

The study by Flemke and Allen (2008) further analyses women who perpetrate intimate partner violence and calls to attention the women’s depictions of having experienced a complete loss of emotional and physical control. Another perspective can be drawn from Edwards (1986, p. 86) who examined the history of abuse among women who violently offend. The women suggested that their violence is an expression of incapacity and helplessness as experienced through rape and not an exercise in power. In consideration of rape Miller (2008) argues sometimes the woman will perpetrate violence in relation to her humiliation and shame. In regards to shame, Gilligan (1996) contends that violence may be an effort at replacing shame with pride. However, when a woman responds in this fashion, Gilbert (2002) contends she is recognised as out of control and irrational. Campbell (1993) suggests by depicting the woman as emotional and out of control, she is further victimised.

Drawing the parallel between victimisations and a woman’s violence is Wesely’s (2006) work with a small group of 20 women who were convicted of various acts of violence. Wesely (2006) engaged two groups of women, one group employed as exotic dancers and another residing in homeless shelters. Both groups of women had engaged in prior prostitution. Within their narratives, the women told stories of extensive childhood abuses to include sexual, physical, and emotional. As adults, many were subject to violence by intimate partners. These women, as those within Flemke’s (2009) study, identified their anger, rage, and subsequent violence as associated with their early victimisations. However, the women spoke further of their marginalisations economically and the social stigma that haunted them. A re-occurring theme among the women in Wesely’s (2006) study was the chronic isolation they endured as exotic dancers, prostitutes, and as homeless.

With regard to their actual offending, some of the women in Wesely’s (2006) study spoke of reaching a tipping point. Wesely (2006) speculates that at the core of the women’s violent 55 offending was their desire to avoid further victimisation. The felt need to evade further victimisation overrode logic. In contrast, research conducted in Israel by Ajzenstadt (2009) is one of the few available whose sample includes women who killed outside the context of intimate partner abuse. Ajzenstadt (2009) held extensive interviews with 42 women currently incarcerated for charges of armed robbery, attempted murder, and murder. The aim of Ajzenstadt’s (2009) study was to examine the relationship between the women’s choice to violently offend and their social and cultural contexts.

The women’s backgrounds run parallel with the demographics and characteristics of women who kill in Australia (see Mouzos, 2000), Canada and the United States (see Hoffman et al., 1998). Interestingly, and in distinct contrast to the narratives of women who committed violence in the context of intimate partner abuse, the majority of the women were active agents in their offending and in possession of specific goals (Ajzenstadt, 2009). According to Ajzenstadt (2009) the women carefully weighed their options and made a rational choice to perpetrate violence (Pedriana, 2005). Feminist criminological researchers (see Anderson, 2001; Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007), have argued that rational choice as a motive theory for women who offend, is not compatible with feminist thought because it does not allow for the inclusion of structural features and the role that institutional limitations play.

However, it can be argued that Ajzenstadt’s (2009) research took into consideration the larger social context of the women’s lives. In her analysis of the women’s narratives, Ajzenstadt (2009) was able to peel away the choice to offend in order to reveal the woman’s preferences, their perceptions of their limited alternatives, specific strategies employed, and constraints that they might encounter. The women’s cultural contexts and marginalisations were engaged. Their decisions to offend were understood through the agency-structure nexus (Maher & Curtis, 1992), implying their choice to offend is influenced by their social and cultural realities.

The narrative analyses presented in this section largely served to further define the women who violently offend and kill in relation to their social contexts. It further reinforces that the majority of feminist criminological focus has been upon intimate partner violence. These few studies reinforce the influence of the blameless victim/culpable agent dichotomy. The focus in the narratives was of women who endured childhood victimisations and subsequent 56 victimisations by violent intimate partners. Such women were also marginalised through drug addiction, prostitution, and homelessness. Women in these stories spoke of reaching a tipping point where their rage and anger lead to violent offending.

These particular scenario’s however, have been argued as reductionist (Dasgupta, 2001; Miller & Meloy, 2006), since they define women’s motivations as either self-defensive or retaliatory. Further, this action if deemed irrational behaviour and an emotional loss of control, serves to further victimise the women. However, there is narrative research which demonstrates that women can make calculated and well planned choices to violently offend and kill, thereby exercising a willingness or volition to their actions. However, these studies did not focus on the identity negotiation of women who kill.

2.7.4 Negotiating Identities There is a small body of feminist criminological literature that has sought to understand how women who have violently offended construct their identities, and with which discourses they embrace and which they reject. In Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) study, extensive interviews were conducted with eight women and eight men all of whom were convicted of crimes of a violent nature. A goal of their study was to understand identity construction related to criminality across gender. The women and men in their study bore labels as criminals, drug addicts, and violent offenders. Among the women, it was believed there existed two primary options. One was to accept a deviant identity, but to deny responsibility for their criminality. The second was to embrace the deviant identity and then elaborate upon justifications for their behaviours. An observation of Geiger and Fischer (2005) was that most women acknowledged their deviance and presented rationales for their behaviours largely situated in victimisations.

Some women in Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) study who sought to resist labels shifted the emphasis upon their condemners by blaming the criminal justice system. A study by Lois Presser (2002) of males who perpetrated violence sought to understand their identity construction. Many of the men in Presser’s (2002) sample berated the criminal justice system. They spoke of their victimisation by this system. In their perception, they fought a personal battle with a formidable foe. According to Presser (2002), the narratives reflected anger at the power of a system that could affix a label of violent offender upon them wherein 57 any prospects of negotiating a favourable identity were negated. It was Presser’s (2002) observation that for some men, their victimisation in relation to the criminal justice system so preoccupied them, that it arose as their master identity.

An instrumental finding in Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) study was the distress that a label as an incompetent mother imposed upon the women. “Yet despite excuses and contempt for the whole world, the female offender’s continued commitment and attachment to the master status of motherhood prevented them from casting off the label of incompetent mother” (Geiger & Fischer, 2005, p. 203). The inability to adequately care for her children overshadowed most efforts at developing a positive self-image (Geiger & Fischer, 2005). This was echoed in the findings of Mann (1996) in her extensive work with African American female offenders.

Because the majority of women who commit murder are mothers (Chan, 2001; Jensen, 2001), it comes as no surprise that the identity as a good mother rises to the level of a master identity. It is suggested by Schur (1984) that the good mother discourse has the most value among women offenders. Western culture has portrayed motherhood as a high calling, a joyous achievement, a blessing, an esteemed vocation, and the pinnacle of womanly accomplishment (Bacon & Lansdowne, 1982; Diquinzio, 1999; Nicolson, 2001; Showalter, 1987). However, motherhood is also understood as instinctual and it is assumed women instantly respond to the needs of her helpless infant. In addition, the construct of domesticity has been used to frame women within western culture and dictates that good women be nurturing, kind, and assume the caretaking of others. In their attempt to understand the identity construction of incarcerated women, Alarid and Vega (2010) suggest being known as a good mother and loving wife, sister or daughter, exerts significant influence upon their individuality.

As a consequence, research by Geiger and Fischer (2005) demonstrated that when the self- identities of women included labels such as incompetent mothers, this led to shame, self- blame, and guilt. The impact of this label upon the identities of the women is further realised when compared to the men who were labelled as bad or incompetent fathers. The males diffused the bad father label by positioning the women as responsible to stay home and care for the children and as such their secondary role lead to less felt guilt and shame (Geiger & 58

Fischer, 2005). Women were especially sensitive to attacks upon their image as good mothers and lead Geiger and Fischer (2005, p. 206) to conclude, that while some labels like violent, drug addict, and prostitute were able to be neutralised or rejected, an incompetent mother label challenged women’s abilities to forge new favourable identities.

A further struggle for women incarcerated long term that impacts their identity as a mother has to do with their concerns for their children. According to Bernstein (2005) the limited contact mothers have with their children create anxieties and fears regarding their safety. More distressing to the incarcerated mother is what O’Brien (2001) and Pollock (2002) cite as a mother’s fear that her children may forget her.

Women who violently offend and particularly those that kill are also subject to media assaults, especially when they kill children. In an article which critiqued the media coverage of two well publicised cases of infanticide within the United States, Huckerby (2003) drew out the references to motherhood. One of the women was a white middle class woman who was a nurse by training and who chose to home school her children. The other woman was an Asian American single mother. Both women had extensive histories of treatment for depression. However, the white mother was deemed as mad and the Asian American mother was framed as bad. The coverage convincingly portrayed the single woman as a bad mother whereas the white woman was determined to be a good mother with an illness.

Roberts (1993) lends support to Huckerby’s (2003) analysis and contends that race and class are two major variables utilised to define motherhood in western culture. This is realised in the stereotyping of good mothers as white and middle class citizens, whereas bad mothers are an out group comprised of woman of colour or lesbians (Roberts, 1993). Further, Loue (2001) asserts that motherhood is a focus of the media in relation to violent offending. The good mother is perceived as the consummate nurturer and the bad mother as an accomplished destroyer. However, Huckerby (2003) argues that the white middle class woman who kills a child poses the greatest challenge to the maternal myth.

How women conceptualise their acts of violence, frame their identities, and situate violence in their lives remains largely unexplored. The most comprehensive study of the identity of women who violently offend was conducted by Comack and Brickey (2007). Their study 59 engaged the narratives of 18 Canadian women convicted of crimes ranging from hitting or slapping, to assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted murder. None of the women had been charged with homicide.

Comack and Brickey (2007) were able to discern the social discourses of which the women identified or rejected in their self-identity construction. It was revealed that the majority of the women readily identified with the victim construct and in so doing, relayed experiences of victimisation as both children and adults. The women generally spoke freely of the impact of these experiences upon their lives. Essentially, the victim discourse was thought to be a comfortable position from which to frame their lives and for some, justify their violent offending.

The women did not possess the same comfort level when the topic shifted to their violence. When the women were asked to engage in a discussion of their violent offending, Comack and Brickey (2007) realised this exercise was distressing for the women. In attempting to reconcile this dichotomy, Comack and Brickey (2007) and Comack and Belfour (2004), suggested the credibility and availability of the victimisation construct is easier to clothe oneself in. It was further suggested that part of this struggle lies in the influence of the discourse of normative femininity that portrays good women as kind, nurturing, and not violent. Comack and Brickey (2007) concluded that the victim identity evokes a sympathetic response whereas violence arouses societal contempt.

Another observation from Comack and Brickey (2007) lies in the narratives of madness and pathology and the influence of mental health professional in the lives of women who violently offend as well as the prominence of mental illness as a rationale for violent offending. Interestingly, the women in the Comack and Brickey’s (2007) sample rejected references to mental illness with the same fervor as violent identities. In light of these experiences, a wide range of diagnoses were represented and six of the eleven women had either taken or were currently taking psychotropic medications.

One woman’s narrative serves to illuminate the resistance to be identified as mentally ill. She spoke of her treatment for depression and anxiety which witnessed her at one juncture taking 25 pills per day and she ridiculed a system that would portray her violent and abusive 60 husband as “normal” while she was referred to as “crazy.” Another woman related an experience where her counsellor kept referring to her as being disturbed. The woman explained she was not disturbed “just angry” (Comack & Brickey, 2007, p. 16). In their discussion Comack and Brickey (2007) recognise that while the presence of mental illness in women who violently offend is well established, so is the leap to declare women insane or abnormal, when they are simply violent.

In an effort to reconcile how victimisations impacts on the self-identities of women, Leisenring (2006) studied women who were not perpetrators of violence, but were victims of intimate partner violence. Her sample engaged 40 women all of whom had been the victims of intimate partner violence. In addressing victimisation, each woman possessed her own conceptualisation of what experiences would qualify as victimisations. While many women identified their abuse as victimisations some women did not. According to Loeske (2003) it may be that victimhood is only bestowed upon those perceived as worthy of sympathy or claimed by those who perceive themselves as worthy of sympathy.

Finally, the majority of women who kill are incarcerated and the incarceration experience itself serves to impact their identities. In an analysis of depression among women who are incarcerated, Culbertson and Fortune (1986) describe how many of the women view themselves as objects or just a number. Author George (cited in George & Johnson, 2010), is a woman convicted of murder serving a life sentence in an American prison who devotes a chapter to loss and how this impacts women and for many leads to chronic depression. George (2010) and others such as Carlen and Worrall (2004), Kruttschnitt, Gartner and Hussermann (2008), and Owens (1998) have all recognised the incarceration experience and how it serves to inform the identities of incarcerated women.

2.8 Conclusion: An Unfinished Story Feminist criminology has contributed dramatically to our understanding of the woman who kills. As a body of work, feminist criminological inquiry first sought to counter the influence of the gender ratio of crime and the generalising of male research to females. Over the past 30 years, feminist criminological research has advanced the understanding of the woman who kills well beyond the biological and psychoanalytical explanations that monopolised criminological research for over a hundred years. 61

However, feminist explanations for women who kill have been monopolised by the discourses of victimisation and madness. When a woman kills the tendency is to label her a victim of abuse or to seek an explanation through pathology or mental illness (Chan, 2001; Morrissey, 2003). More recently, however, another explanation has gained acceptance which focuses on her agency or willingness to kill. It is acknowledged that sometimes a woman makes a rational choice to kill in relation to, for example, financial gain or jealousy (Morrissey, 2003). However, when these understandings are embraced by society a third universal explanation is argued whereby the woman must be evil or bad emerges. To kill as a man for greed or lust – the woman has transgressed the script of normative femininity which depicts women as non-aggressive. Feminist criminology has been unable to effectively challenge this explanation due to the dominance of the normative frame of femininity in both social and feminist discourse.

However, recent research focusing on the identity construction of violent women is demonstrating the complexities of these women’s lives, and the ways in which they engage with the normative frame of femininity to reconstruct an identity as a good woman despite their transgression of law and nature. There are several theories that are drawn on within this research including Erikson’s (1968) identity formation, Blumer’s (1969) symbolic interaction theory, and Gilligan’s (1982) attachment theory. The final key theory is Hughes (1945) early work on the notion of master identity which tends to outweigh all others.

Feminist criminological research that draws from the actual narratives of women who violently offend and those who kill have tended to focus on a woman’s experience of victimisation (see Banwell, 2010; Leisinring, 2006). However, only one study from California by Leonard (2002) has a sample which consists entirely of women who killed. The other samples contain women who have perpetrated a range of violence. Three studies that are key to this research which pursue the self-identities of women who violently offend were conducted by Alarid and Vega (2010), Comack and Brickey (2007), and Geiger and Fischer (2005), who have sought to understand women who perpetrate violence through the narratives of the offender herself.

Chapter Three: Methodological Framework

Are all perpetrators the same? I doubt it. Is all violence perpetrated by women the same? Of course not. Is it caused by the same factors? That’s highly unlikely. (Renzetti, 1999, p. 47)

3.1 Introduction The purpose of my research is to enhance the understanding of incarcerated women convicted of murder in Australia. The methodological perspective was drawn from a feminist framework and utilises a qualitative design. One goal of feminist inquiry is to conduct research that is dedicated to improving women’s situations and their status (Bierema, 2002), by confronting the basic structures and thoughts that oppress them (Campbell & Wasco, 2000; Hesse-Biber & Leckenby, 2004; Paradis, 2000). Eichler (1997) further asserts that feminist scholarship focuses on improving the status of females as it seeks to unravel asymmetrical power relations depicted in male-dominated organisations (Mahlstedt, 1999).

Lamb (1999) and Olesen (1994) noted that questions related to voice and how a woman may be heard as her own arbiter is deeply embedded within feminist research. According to Campbell and Wasco (2000), an overarching endeavour is to capture the women’s lives and experiences in a respectful manner thus giving legitimacy to their voices as sources of knowledge. Therefore, it has been a long-standing feminist tradition to place value on a woman’s experiences that serve as a direct connection between her personal and political life (Armstrong, 1994; Hoffman, 1996). Moreover, women’s verbal narratives and histories are viewed as the preferred means in exploring their personal accounts as opposed to more restrictive interpretations of their stories.

However, when research involves sensitive topics, such as this study, its vulnerable nature can create additional methodological challenges. For example, Lee and Renzetti (1990) identified the following five challenges: “(1) gaining access to participants; (2) creating a non-threatening environment; (3) avoiding the introduction of doubt and suspicion into the relationship between the researcher and the participant; (4) attending to ethical and access issues; and (5) considering possible legal issues” (pp. 510-28).

Because the sample of women convicted of murder in this research were relied upon to openly and honestly disclose detailed personal information, sensitive topics were addressed. Consequently, several of the challenges defined by Lee and Renzetti (1990) were also specifically encountered including a lengthy and complex process to obtain ethical clearance and barriers to access. Likewise, I was cognisant of numerous factors that might influence the way in which the participants related to me (i.e., the manner used to address the women and the type of clothing I wore). Another consideration was to create a non-threatening environment to ensure that the participants were comfortable enough to divulge their self- identities and their own understandings of violence.

3.2 Methodological Considerations 3.2.1 Feminist Methodologies A significant debate occurred in the early 1980s regarding appropriate methods to use for feminist research (Bowles & Duelli Klein, 1983; Roberts, 1981). The differences between feminist and traditional research methods were later stated by DeVault (1996):

Feminists seek a methodology that will do the work of ‘excavation,’ shifting the focus of standard practice from men’s concerns in order to reveal the locations and perspectives of (all) women. The aim of much feminist research has been to ‘bring women in’, that is, to find what has been ignored, censored and suppressed, and to reveal both the diversity of actual women’s lives and the ideological mechanisms that have made so many of those lives invisible. (p. 32)

In addition, debates ensued between individuals who embraced qualitative methods versus those who felt quantitative approaches were more appropriate for examining feminist research (Jayaratne, 1983). However, an effort to distinctively define feminist-oriented research methods yielded no consensus and so the debate shifted to considering the kinds of knowledge generated through a reconceptualisation of objectivity and the implied ethics of engaging in feminist research (Haraway, 1988; Harding, 1987; Stanley & Wise, 1990).

Researchers who study feminist methodology have searched for ways in which to provide a voice to personal and everyday female experiences, especially for those who are marginalised 64 in society. As reflected in personal histories and in light of their incarceration status, the women who participated in this research were an extremely marginalised population. This process of allowing for a voice has resulted in a significant promotion of qualitative methods, particularly participatory methods such as in-depth interviews. In-depth interviews serve to support the feminist ideal of a collaborative research relationship and while feminist participatory methodology is often viewed as a biased social science, Renzetti (1997) argues:

In my view, what sets this type of research apart is that it is also good social science; that is, it seeks to give voice to and to improve the life conditions of the marginalized, and it transforms social scientific inquiry from an academic exercise into an instrument of meaningful social change. (p. 143)

Feminist research aims to give voice to personal and everyday experiences of women and other marginalised individuals and groups, and it rejects traditional unbalanced power relationships between the researcher and the researched (Cancian, 1992; Reinharz, 1992). Feminists have attempted to provide participants with more power within the research enterprise and this has been accomplished, at least in part, by the adoption of a collaborative model. Specifically, providing a voice for women, bringing balance to the research relationship, and empowering women serves to enhance the research alliance techniques employed in this research.

Moran-Ellis (1996) suggested that feminist methodology must incorporate a means in which female researchers can interject their own experiences and thereby share their subjectivity with participants. In recommending the adoption of a collaborative model, Renzetti (1997) therefore argued that feminists typically reject the traditional model wherein the researcher and participant are divided. Both Renzetti (1997) and Moran-Ellis (1996) proposed that researchers should begin by sharing their own personal life experiences by offering information about themselves, their lives, and views with the women they are studying. In short, Renzetti (1997), Bergen (1993), and Campbell and Wasco (2000) maintained that establishing rapport and trust between the researcher and participants and removing the dichotomy and power imbalance between them, adds to the success of the interviewing process.

Feminist methods have witnessed unprecedented growth over the past three decades. However, there remain challenges and limitations to the approaches. A frequently cited challenge (see Grenz, 2005; Presser, 2005; Taylor & Rupp, 2005), lies in the difficulty in conceptualising men’s experiences. Another hurdle is what Letherby (2003) notes as the linking of knowing and doing. Feminist researchers to include Maynard (1994), Naples (2003), and Ramazanoglu and Holland (2002) identify another relationship difficulty in tying methodologies to epistemologies. Feminist methodologies emphasise the utility of reflexivity. However, operationalising reflexivity or how do we actually “do” reflexivity, has not proven a simple exercise. Sandra Harding (1998) has written extensively regarding what constitutes strong or robust reflexivity. Feminism and the field of methodology have connected to yield a body of feminist methods. Despite the challenges cited, feminist methods have enabled feminism to engage and know the lives of others.

3.2.2 Feminist Standpoint Theory: As a Framework There are many feminist theories one may engage to guide their research. Feminist standpoint theory is most compatible with my personal and political beliefs and provides a framework well suited for this study. A standpoint perspective involves a level of consciousness in relation to the individual’s location in their social structure as well as that location’s relationship to their lived experience (Hartsock, 1987). Feminist standpoint theory is especially relevant to this research given its focus upon a marginalised group of women, those incarcerated for long terms.

A basic tenant of standpoint theory is espoused by Collins (1989), Harding (1991) and Nielsen (1990), is that the less powerful members of society experience a different reality given their status. Incarcerated women are a subordinated group. An interesting concept emerges in Harding’s (1991) assessment of this reality that she refers to as double vision. Applied to the women in this study, it necessitates that they have an awareness and sensitivity of the dominant group’s society as well as their own as inmates. Having the two perspectives, Harding (1991) contends those so marginalised have a far more complete view of social reality. It is from the perspective of the woman’s life that less partial and less distorted beliefs emerge (Hill-Collins, 1991).

Feminist standpoint theory emphasises the critical role of researcher reflexivity. This entails the examination of the role of the researchers own social position as they engage in the research process. This mandates an ongoing commitment to self-awareness in relation to the researcher’s potential impact upon those participating in the research. The question to the researcher is “how does my ethnicity, class, gender, culture and beliefs manifest in the research analysis?” This process is captured in the following quote by McCorkel and Myers (2003):

Feminist standpoint theorists contend that the researcher’s positionality affects all aspects of the research process – from the articulation of a research question, the analysis and presentation of the data. (p. 199)

3.2.3 Qualitative Research As Patenaude (2004) claimed, criminologists are sometimes unwilling to commit the time and effort necessary to conduct research within secluded prison settings especially given their makeup and isolated locales within the United States, a hypothesis that also applies to the Australian prison system. For example, Patenaude (2004) discussed the challenges faced by researchers who conduct their studies within prisons who have already had to overcome obstacles associated with procedural requirements of Institutional Review Boards (IRBs) and human subject review committees. An equally strong deterrent for such research includes the challenges encountered in face-to-face interactions with participants, other inmates, and prison staff. To support his argument, Patenaude (2004) reviewed key criminological journals and found that research conducted in prisons was predominately quantitative.

As previously indicated, qualitative research lends itself to the use of feminist methodology by emphasising the participants’ qualities, processes, and meanings (Denzin & Lincoln, 2008). Imperative to this research is the exploration of personal narratives and stories provided by incarcerated female participants. Clearly, the incarcerated violent female offender participants included in this research were hidden and invisible and made vulnerable by virtue of their status. Benoit, Jansson, Millar and Phillips (2005) argued that “vulnerable” is a term which applies to several hidden populations (including incarcerated individuals) who can be categorised as sensitive and hard to reach. Liamputtong (2007) also spoke of how vulnerable groups may encounter experiences that diminish their autonomy and 67 subsequently render their lives as being insignificant. A qualitative research method utilising feminist methodology is the most appropriate way of engaging with this group given an awareness of the marginalisation and powerlessness of such women, and emphasising as it does the collaborative nature of the research approach.

According to Moore and Miller (1999), female homicide offenders are doubly vulnerable considering their social status, cultural backgrounds, and current incarceration. Stone (2003) further noted that incarcerated women are often difficult to access, deemed as deviant, broken a critical societal taboo, and are thus a silent population. Arguably, seven women incarcerated for murder are a vulnerable and difficult to reach population. This, in part, accounts for the small sample size. Having said this, Patton (2002) claimed: “there are no rules for sample size in qualitative inquiry” (p. 244), and further argued that the sample size depends on the research questions and various external pressures including economic resources and time constraints. This research was conducted in two states, and the overall time frame and scheduling was dictated not only by the department of corrections but also by the women themselves.

Another rationale for selecting qualitative research methods is that the women’s complexities cannot be easily quantified and qualitative research methods allow for the collection of detailed narrative information:

Murder stories when focused on the deed, take on the quality of monster tales, but when the deeds are contextualized and the murderers demystified by the details of their lives, they lose their sensational quality and much of the onus shifts to society’s failures to provide relief to women trapped in intolerable situations. (Faith, 1993, p. 97)

The original objective of this research was to conduct a content analysis of each woman’s court records which would then be compared and contrasted with their narratives. However, obtaining complete court transcripts through official channels was a time consuming task. More importantly was the concern that the record analysis might serve to overshadow the women’s narratives. Subsequently, only sentencing and appeal documents were obtained 68 through the public domain and were primarily utilised to seek further demographics and expanded social histories for each woman.

3.3 The Location of Self When conducting feminist research, it is important to account for any personal biases in reaching an understanding and interpreting the results. One aspect of understanding the researcher’s role is the location of one’s own self within the context. For example, Letherby (2003) asserted that feminist research should be linked to the researcher’s personal aspects in which any biases are disclosed to the reader. As feminists, Letherby (2003) further stated that it is imperative they recognise the relevance of their “intellectual biography” and provide “accountable knowledge” (p. 9). In other words, acknowledging the researcher’s self is a source that can make sense of other people’s lives (Stanley & Wise, 1993), by providing a unique relationship between the researcher and the researched when compared to the traditional scenario of the researcher and their subjects.

Feminist researchers (see Davies, 1992; Gitlin, 1994), argue that both the researcher and her subjects should share the same status as participants or collaborators who are involved in the venture. Thus, the researcher’s charge represents a continued critical assessment of her own as well as the informant’s by shifting positions and subjectivities (Fine, 1994). Stated differently, the researcher possesses particular values, varied interests, and life experiences to the research enterprise that do not dictate certain points of view; however, they do influence the researcher’s perspectives in relation to specific topics and discussions (Flintoff, 1997).

Renzetti (1997) contended that feminist criminological research is the collaboration and sharing of information between the participant and researcher which serves to whet the appetite. Similarly, Neuman (1994) asserted that the feminist researcher is someone who interacts individually with each of her subjects and creates a sense of trust and social connection by employing a number of qualitative methods. Thus, various approaches used by feminists frame participants as being the experts of their own lives (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007). In addition, the feminist research process entails discovering differences and ways in which the researcher’s subjective identity impacts on the analysis and conclusions drawn with regard to her participants.

In this research, the chain of command was removed by establishing a congenial relationship. This included permission to shake each participant’s hand, offering coffee, tea, or a soft drink, and creating a comfortable environment. Although a list of semi-structured questions was relied on to structure the interview, the participants were encouraged to explain their responses in detail and this allowed the interview to proceed within the research confines. Therefore, the interview’s content was not limited by any artificial boundaries in which researcher bias may have been imposed. Participants were encouraged to openly convey any personal information they believed to be relevant to the research. As a result, the analysis was enlightened by a multitude of factors unique to each participant in which a structure was not imposed based upon self, a process that effectively removed any concern of my own self from the analysis.

Although participants were informed of their right to withdraw from the research at any time, each one displayed a high level of cooperation and completed the entire interview process. Specifically, all participants appeared to speak freely with some providing a great level of insight into their backgrounds and life experiences.

3.3.1 Researcher Reflexivity Another aspect of feminist investigation is researcher reflexivity, or the process of stepping outside of the research and glancing back to see what can be discerned from a distance (Stanko, 1997). From the perspective of a feminist researcher, Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2007) recommended that she should commence by understanding the significance of her own values and attitudes in regard to the subject being undertaken as described in the “location of self” section. Earlier, Hesse-Biber and Leckenby (2004) expanded on this process by asserting that it should commence prior to beginning a study, thus suggesting the researcher should look deeply inward and reflect upon her own personal and lived experiences. By doing so, this self-reflection can prove to be supportive throughout the research process. Furthermore, they provided two questions to be considered prior to engaging in the research process: (1) How did your own biography affect the research process; in particular, how did social, economic, and political contexts affect the research process at all levels? (2) What shaped the questions you chose to study and your approach to answering them?

I was raised in a middle-class working background absent of familial violence or criminal experiences. Therefore, an examination of my research and inquiries were gained through volunteer experience, obtained when working with women who had become involved in crime. Thus, a desire to work with these women and an interest to explore the source of their deviance or criminality spurred this research. In short, the stereotypical image that I previously held of women who retaliated based solely upon their victimisation was challenged by studying and investigating female criminality. Therefore, my research represents a continued investigation into the nature of women who commit crimes such as murder and sets aside any biases formerly held.

According to Flintoff (1997), the researcher who conducts a feminist investigation should position herself within the reflexivity process and provide a continual analysis of underlying social relations. This process is important given that it clearly makes visible the means by which she is both influenced and influences the research. According to Olesen (1994), the feminist researcher should maintain an awareness of how she serves to become a participant in her own research given that the researcher’s interpretation of what transpires can create conflict during the course of fieldwork. Subsequently, she must remain open to reflections from her own standpoint and pay close attention to silences and absences when gathering data (Flintoff, 1997).

Further, Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2007) claim that one’s belief system, emotional behaviour, and background are all: “part of the process of knowledge construction” (p. 129). Hesse- Biber and Leavy (2007) further argued that reflexivity is the process in which the researcher should remain sensitive to situational dynamics that occur between participant and researcher which can impact on the outcome of knowledge. In keeping with the practice of feminist reflexivity and as a method of addressing researcher reflexivity, a diary was utilised from the beginning of the research process. Alaszewski (2006) and Miller and Timson (2004), maintain that the diary is readily accepted as a research tool in the study of sensitive topics, particularly with vulnerable groups of people.

3.3.2 Researcher: Process of Reflection Commencing with the first ethics application in Brisbane Queensland, Australia, and during prison interviews, I recorded my personal feelings and experiences in a diary. According to 71

Gilgun and McLeod (1999), researchers who implement a reflexive approach attempt to: “write [themselves] into the analysis” (p. 185).

The best feminist analysis goes beyond … innovations in subject matter in a crucial way: it insists that the inquirer her/himself be placed in the same critical plane as the overt subject matter, thereby recovering the entire research process for scrutiny in the results of research. (Harding, 1987, p. 9)

Harding (1987) continued to clarify the researcher’s position by stating: “The researcher appears to us not as an invisible, anonymous voice of authority, but as a real, historical individual with concrete, specific desires and interests” (p. 9).

When writing my diary, I applied the suggestions offered by Etter-Lewis (1995) that included critical considerations regarding the meaning of unexpressed silences. Contemplated throughout this process were questions related to; “What is the respondent not saying and why?” “Is she reflecting upon her own comments?” “How do social norms regarding gender shape the respondent’s thoughts, and how do I reflect upon what she is saying?”

With the aid of Etter-Lewis’s (1995) criteria, the reflective diary-keeping process was helpful in capturing a depth of information as gleaned from the participants. My diary-keeping commenced before I entered the prison; when my first written application was sent to the Queensland Department of Corrective Services in Brisbane. It was during this early stage that I noted the overwhelming amount of back and forth paperwork and written protocol required, in order to obtain access to women inmates in either Brisbane or Melbourne prisons.

I continued to diarise ongoing issues around two specific areas: one related to ethical submissions concerning administrative experiences, and the second included thoughts and experiences related to women offenders, prison officials, and other employees (i.e., psychologists, counsellors and prison chaplains). Specifically, the second area contained a separate segment involving each individual participant. Following the interviews, information was recorded reflecting on the experience.

However, the most important purpose of my diary was to capture the numerous nuances associated with the participants’ comments. For example, cues pertaining to each of the women were recorded both verbally and nonverbally. In addition, necessary and often copious notes were taken to ensure that all significant details and themes were correctly interpreted and every effort was made to ensure the participants’ narratives were not misconstrued and that no details were misplaced. Essentially, the diary-keeping process reinforced the importance of an accurate record of the participants’ narratives and the interactive experiences between the researcher and the researched.

3.4 Risk, Safety, and Other Ethical Issues Barnard (2005) elucidated the following important research principle: “For most, if not all of us, harm is the very last thing we want to happen, particularly where those we research are already socially excluded” (p. 13). Researchers have strived to ensure that participants are not adversely affected by engaging in studies or contending with unanticipated/anticipated consequences of research activities, such as identification via personal details which may be included in published findings, especially since personal and intimate details disclosed may place participants in even more vulnerable positions (Carrier, 1999; Johnson 2002; Langford, 2000; Lee, 1993; Renzetti & Lee, 1993; Sin, 2005; Tunnell, 1998). These concerns were addressed in this research by using pseudonyms to protect any personal information and by asking participants to not disclose specific information about their violent offending.

In qualitative research, participants are also exposed to more subtle risks. For example, Smythe and Murray (2000) assert this can happen when the researcher and participant enter topic areas that they are neither prepared for nor discussed prior to the interview. In this situation, an emotional impact may arise when the participants realise that their stories are being filtered and reinterpreted under the researcher’s microscope, the potential psychological impact upon the participant may sometimes be overlooked by researchers. When depressed participants discuss their life experiences, for example, Balfour (1999) suggested that this may serve to prompt significant negative mood states that might contribute to suicidal ideations as they re-live relieve traumas.

In an effort to reduce the likelihood of a negative psychological impact, participants were advised not to discuss any information regarding criminal activities that they had not already 73 been prosecuted for by the courts. The potential emotional impact was also minimised by a clear understanding that I was not in any position of authority to impact their life course. As a consequence, even when participants discussed painful aspects of their lives, they were responsible for determining what and how much information to disclose.

Mandatory procedures were also put in place to ensure that participants would not be under any undue stress during the interviews. Prison administrators, for example, requested that the services of an external psychologist who represented a private on-call practice to be available for the women at my own financial expense. Notably, prison administration’s requirement for an external psychologist was based upon insufficient funding to provide extra counselling should it be needed. In the course of this research, an external psychologist was never required by the participants.

When research is conducted with vulnerable people or groups, numerous ethical issues warrant careful consideration. According to Miller and Bell (2002), ethical concerns must be an ongoing part of research that includes thought before, during, and after the research is completed. Lee further (1993) states that conducting research with vulnerable individuals requires more ethical responsibility for their lives and for their well-being, as researchers strive to avoid rendering them more fragile. Lee-Treweek and Linkogle (2000) concur that researchers must make every endeavour to protect their participants.

A continual awareness is critical in realising the impact that vulnerable people suffer by reliving painful and past experiences as they face their current harsh realities. This became a prime consideration in the manner in which the interviews were conducted and every effort was made to create a non-threatening atmosphere, allowing wherever appropriate for the participants to direct the interview.

A final element of risk entailed the harm that third parties could possibly suffer (Smythe & Murray, 2000). Content information conveyed by participants for example, often referred to family and marital problems, drug and alcohol issues, sexual abuses, illegal activities, and professional misconduct. Typically, participant consent forms contain standard assurances concerning the participant’s confidentiality; however, such guarantees are not extended to third parties who might be referred to in the narratives. Thus, it was standard operating 74 procedure for pseudonyms to be employed in order to protect the participants as well as the third parties and any relationships discussed by the participants were kept as general as possible. Third parties were only mentioned when absolutely necessary in understanding a narrative. However, the possibility exists that a third party could be identified through a search of public information records due to the small sample size of Australia’s female homicide offenders interviewed in this research. While this has been minimised as much as is possible, it is acknowledged that this may occur in this research.

3.4.1 Sensitive Research The need to be sensitive to cultural differences and gender is always an ethical consideration in feminist criminological research (Cloke, Cooke, Cursons, Milbourne, & Widdowfield, 2000; Denzin, 1997). This is especially critical given that ethnic minorities and marginalised women are overrepresented in violent offending (Canadian Centre for Justice Statistics, 2007; Kirkwood, 2003). Additionally, the participant’s position within patriarchal and hierarchical power relations as well as in the research relationship must be recognised (Etherington, 2007). Although there were no Indigenous women interviewed in my research, there was one participant who represented a member of a religious minority. Nevertheless, every effort was made to treat each participant as equals while respecting any cultural differences.

To a great extent, feminist research engages the private lives of women. As such, feminist researchers (see Campbell & Wasco, 2000; Jansen & Davis, 1998; Renzetti & Lee, 1993; Liamputtong, 2007), argue for the adoption of a set of feminist principles to guide working with women when sensitive topics are addressed. Although any research topic can be deemed as potentially sensitive, issues related to rape, mental illness, sexual orientation, circumstances leading to a criminal act, and drug abuse are viewed as having more potential for harm. According to Lee and Renzetti (1993), all of these issues represent an invasion of one’s “private sphere” (p. 5). Similarly, Wellings, Branigan, and Mitchell (2000) assert that disclosing behaviours which would normally be considered as private and personal are sensitive in nature. Sensitive areas pertinent to this research included victimisation, abuse, deviance and/or criminal activities, and other behaviours associated with the participants’ private lives.

In addition to vulnerable participants who may be placed at risk (Lee-Treweek & Linkogle, 2000), a researcher’s career and safety may also be influenced (Lee, 1993). For example, a threat may be posed to the researcher when a very private realm or highly regarded personal experience is examined or when the research focus involves deviance or social control aspects (Renzetti & Lee, 1993). According to Draucker (1999), topics related to sexual violence, death, and various forms of abuse may often invoke strong memories among participants that have also been shown to have a negative effect also on the researcher. Although this research deals with issues concerning extreme violence and death, I did not experience any personal harmful impact.

3.5 An In-Depth Discussion of Semi-Structured Interviews 3.5.1 A Feminist Approach to Interviewing From a feminist perspective, in-depth interviewing is regarded as a process involving the co- creation of meanings. Essentially, the researcher should remain mentally and physically alert at all times, listen intently to what the interviewee has to say, and be prepared to discontinue his or her agenda in order to follow the interview’s pace. In other words, the interview and conversations become an independent schedule in which the researcher should be willing to work with these changes (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007).

As a feminist researcher, I was cognisant of the character of my relationship with the women I interviewed. Further, I remained cautious in recognising my own unique personal and research perspectives as they related to the role I played within the interview process, as well as how my authority could influence the women. Therefore, I chose to use in-depth semi- structured interviews.

The in-depth interview seeks to understand the ‘lived experiences’ of the individual. We are interested in getting at the ‘subjective’ understanding an individual brings to a given situation or set of circumstances. In-depth interviews are issue-oriented … a researcher might pursue this method to explore a particular topic and gain focused information on the issue from the respondents. (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007, p. 118)

In-depth interviews also allowed me to: “access the voices of those who are marginalised in a society” (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007, p. 118). Further, the interviews represented “… more of a conversation between co-participants than a simple question and answer session” (Hesse- Biber & Leavy, 2007, p. 134). When interviewing women offenders, it is imperative that in- depth interviews be utilised to capture the true essence of their perceptions and characters. As asserted by Chesney-Lind (1986): “books that are based on in-depth interviews with women in the [criminal justice] system also provide important sources of information on women offenders’ perceptions of their behavior and their opinions” (pp. 86-87).

Also observed as an intensive process, in-depth interviewing is the method most often utilised by qualitative researchers (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2005), and requires both active questioning and listening which derives more meaningful information from the participant’s perspective. Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2005) also suggested that an in-depth interview allows participants to freely express their individual perceptions and at the same time permits the researcher to remain focused on important research questions. In other words, in-depth interviews elicit: “… more personal dynamics [from the participants’] violent behavior[s]” (Goetting, 1995, p. 53) and enrich the researcher’s understanding of the personal complexities of each participant.

In short, an in-depth interview helps to build a climate of intimacy that allows for mutual self-disclosure. When conducted in person on a one-to-one basis, the process lends itself to a richer expression of the participant’s “self” than is required by other interviewing techniques (Johnson, 2002), and greatly enhances suppressed voices that permits the interviewer to capture or acknowledge verbal as well as nonverbal cues that can clarify the participants’ true meanings (Hesse-Bieber & Leavy, 2005). Additionally, in-depth interviews are well suited when working with vulnerable groups. Birch and Miller (2000) suggest this process allows the researcher to feel a closeness to the participants that, in turn, enhances a mutual sharing of life experiences. Finally, in-depth interviewing is closely tied to feminist research (Oakley, 1981; Reinharz, 1992; Renzetti, 1997; Weston, 2004) and referred to by Graham (1983) as the “female style of knowing” (p. 136) and labelled by Smith (1987) from “the standpoint of women” (p. 105).

This research project is based entirely on individual in-depth semi-structured interviews with women convicted of murder who were encouraged to share as much personal information as they were comfortable with. An original list of questions were written and implemented throughout the interviews to ensure coverage of answers to specific inquiries. I was not concerned about the order of questions so long as all important areas of interest were discussed (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007). Therefore, I originally used lead-in questions although I was still open to asking related questions. As a result, there was spontaneous encouragement from each participant as well as myself during all interviews. The interview consisted of a dialogue in which I focused on carefully listening and following up on information by encouraging the participant to express her personal views and ideas. Thus, a friendly relationship was established through the use of mutual self-disclosure and respect as well as my response to verbal and non-verbal cues in acknowledging each participant’s personal boundaries. Follow-up interviews were conducted across a two to six month period.

3.5.2 Probing: During the Interview Throughout the interviews, “probing” was implemented if I determined that the technique was necessary. As encountered during the course of interviewing, probes were instrumental in gaining “more insight into the respondent’s life by asking questions that probe, in a neutral way” (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007, pp. 125-126), thus allowing me to obtain a more comprehensive understanding of the issue being discussed. Across all interviews, the women would further elaborate on their personal positions when probed.

According to Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2007, p. 126): “[p]robes allow researchers to provide the respondent with support and encouragement without pushing their own agenda into the conversation.” Silent probes can include gestures such as nodding one’s head, or the echo probe, whereby the researcher repeats what the participant stated. Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2007) further note that echo probing can allow the interviewer to take: “… a particular thread of the interview and follow up with several other questions … pertinent to the specific issue” (p. 126).

3.5.3 The Value of Listening Despite numerous hours of face-to-face encounters and transcribing interviews, it was still possible to overlook some of the language in which the women expressed their reality. 78

Therefore, DeVault (2004) called attention to not just what is said but what is not said. An example of this muted language occurs during extended hesitations or use of the “you know” term (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007, p. 132). A majority of the women in my study frequently employed “you know” within their narratives. Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2007) suggested that in the course of some researchers’ transcriptions, they might decide to omit the “you know” expression as being irrelevant. Conversely, DeVault (2004) cautioned: “I believe [that] this halting, hesitant, tentative talk signals the realm of not-quite-articulated experience, where standard vocabulary is inadequate, and where a respondent tries to speak from experience and finds language wanting” (p. 235). As a consequence, expressions such as ‘you know’ were included in the narrative transcriptions.

3.6 Narrative Research: The Study of Stories Narrative analysis was chosen as a methodology because it allowed participants to make sense of the events and actions faced throughout their lives (Polkinghorne, 2005; Riessman, 1993) and further permitted the researcher to critically examine the statements, silences, tone of voice, and significance of the words used by the storyteller (DeVault, 1997; Riessman, 1989; Wasserfall, 1997).

The overall purpose of my study was to provide a safe backdrop for participants to analyse their lives and criminality as they relate to their self-identities. The narrative analysis also provided an optimal research platform; by employing a case study format and approach to maintain the integrity and experiences of the women’s perceptions (Rosenthal, 1993). Although an analysis provides only a partial account of the totality of the conversations and embraces only a glimpse of the participants’ overall life experiences, the narratives reflected the construction of personal identities and unique experiences within the women’s public arena (DeVault, 1997; Young, 1996).

As part of this research, a field research approach was used to identify, analyse, and record themes and patterns within the collected data. For example, a theme captures crucial data in relation to the research question and represents a level of patterned responses. On the other hand, the number of times a theme appeared in the narratives was not as critical as whether it captured an element pertinent to the overall research question. Additionally, an inductive “bottoms up” research strategy was chosen beginning with a general observation of the prison 79 environment, followed by a one-to-one interview that incorporated open-ended questions. Through the women’s narratives, it was possible to detect specific patterns and themes (Blaike, 2000), without forcing the information into any pre-existing format, coding frame, or my own conceptual ideation.

During the taped interviews, I jotted down support notes in order to identify the participants’ silences and non-verbal cues. Subsequently, I was sensitive to the choices made as to which portions of each narrative were to be included in the analysis and the meanings assigned to the women’s words.

3.7 Human Research Ethics Committee: Access to Participants 3.7.1 Queensland University of Technology, Australia An application for ethical clearance was submitted to and approved by the Queensland University of Technology, Human Research Ethics Committee, contingent upon my recognition of the participants’ vulnerability and the highly personal nature of the questions posed. Also critical was adherence to policy guidelines that would assure the safety of both the female offender and the researcher.

3.7.2 Queensland Department of Corrective Services, Australia Originally, my study was conducted with the intent to investigate the prison experiences of violent female offenders serving long incarceration sentences in Brisbane Queensland, Australia. However, the application to engage these female offenders was denied by the Queensland Department of Corrective Services, and there was no recourse for re-submission.

However, the Queensland Department of Corrective Services, Research Management team extended my option by altering the research focus. Specifically, the committee recommended that female gamblers and their criminal habits would be a better topic to explore. However, this suggestion was far removed from my original research intent. Therefore, I submitted a letter of appeal to the Queensland Department of Corrective Services in December 2004, which was never acknowledged. The original application was denied based upon the following concerns:

 The small sample size meeting the criteria would make the women easily identifiable even if pseudonyms were used.  The project would not likely provide the Department with findings that would add to their existing knowledge.  The Department could not provide the researcher with demographical data because this would require too much time and valuable resources.  The interview process would pose challenges to the facility.  There were concerns involving offenders’ mental status following the interviews.

3.7.3 Victorian Department of Justice, Australia After denial from the Queensland Department of Corrective Services, I sought approval to conduct research with violent female offenders in another state. As a result, the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, a female maximum and medium security prison located in the Melbourne district within the state of Victoria, was selected. Before proceeding, I was required to obtain ethical approval from the Victorian Department of Justice. Prior to the application being officially submitted, a meeting was organised and attended by a senior psychologist and prison management officials representing the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre. The purpose of this meeting was to determine appropriate procedures, ethical considerations, and strategies to be used in the application. This approach, where a meeting was organised prior to the application being considered meant that prison management was supportive and encouraged a research application submission.

Various stages of this application process proved to be extremely complex and time- consuming. For example, the ethics committee from the Victorian Department of Justice consisted of eight members from diverse disciplines (i.e., a lawyer, a minister of religion, a former prison manager, prison administration, a psychologist, and a sociologist). In particular, ethical issues needed to be further clarified and re-negotiated due to concerns related to each participant’s privacy, confidentiality of sensitive research, and an assurance that the women would not be subjected to distress during their interviews.

Finally, this prolonged application process required three submissions and took approximately 10 months from the first submission to final approval from the Victorian 81

Department of Justice. In addition, nearly 18 months elapsed before both state and prison systems gave me authorisation to proceed with my research. Another six weeks transpired between the time the participants received their packets, completed them, and returned them to me accordingly.

My experience in accessing incarcerated female offenders is echoed within the criminological literature (see Bosworth, 1999; Carlen & Worrall, 2004; Pollock, 2002; Wahidin, 2004). As maintained by Wright and Bennett (1990), gaining access to prisoners can be time consuming and prove frustrating as researchers struggle to negotiate a series of bureaucratic obstacles. Difficulties involved in this process may explain the paucity of research related to gathering the narratives of incarcerated women, specifically long term violent offenders.

For the benefit of researchers who plan to conduct future studies with incarcerated populations, the following is a summary of four challenges that may possibly be presented:

 A time-consuming and repetitive process with government ethics committees and prison authorities required to initiate the research process.  The organisation and attendance at local and interstate meetings both prior to, and during, the research.  A lengthy turn-around time of correspondence between the participants and researcher.  The fact that correctional departments may review research applications at select periods such as every three or six months.

In summary, Patenaude’s (2004) comment resonates with my experience:

Research within the field of corrections is rarely easy or uncomplicated. It can be safely stated that the procedural hoops, such as Institutional Review Boards (IRBS) or human subjects reviews, through which one must jump might deter some researchers in the field. Frustrations involved in dealing with difficult participants, inmates and staff, might deter others. (p. 695)

3.8 Sampling Guidelines Without making generalisations, in-depth interviewing typically involves a process in which small samples are selected in order to determine how individuals understand their social situations. In other words, the qualitative researcher seeks purposive samples that are guided by particular research questions (Hesse-Biber & Leavy, 2007). Patton (2002, p. 244) further suggests: “there are no rules for sample size in qualitative inquiry.” In particular, the sample size is contingent upon the research question and the specific setting in which one practices his or her research. Due to financial, geographic, and time constraints, coupled with a hard to reach population and governmental road blocks, my study therefore included a sample of seven women.

3.9 Selection and Recruitment 3.9.1 Selection Criterion This research, was focused on identifying women who were serving long-term sentences (defined as being incarcerated for a minimum of five years), for committing violent crimes consisting of murder, manslaughter, armed robbery, and or rape. Although the objective was to secure 10 to 12 participants, seven women who were all incarcerated for murder volunteered.

After gaining official access to the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, in Victoria, information was requested from prison management regarding female offenders who fell within the research criteria. This included their names, contact information, and a brief demographic profile describing their criminal histories. Following this request, a meeting was scheduled between myself and prison management. As a result of this request, a prison official provided me with the names of 23 violent female offenders, their criminal charges, and brief details regarding their sentences. Further information was verbally provided as opposed to written information in order to protect the offenders’ confidentiality. Of these, 21 women were identified as serving time in the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre maximum security facility, and the other two women were housed in the Tarrengower minimum security facility. Both of these prison facilities are located within an outlying district of Melbourne. From the onset, it was agreed that any correspondence between myself and the participants would be channelled through prison administration.

Therefore, prison administrators were provided with 23 recruitment packets and return stamped envelopes to be distributed to the women offenders. However, the following scenario may have served to negatively affect the distribution of correspondence: (a) offender misbehaviour resulting in a loss of privileges including the receipt of mail; (b) contentious relationships between the offender and staff resulting in failure to deliver correspondence; and, (c) the offender may not have been housed on prison grounds at the time that the correspondence was delivered (e.g., some women receive medical treatment located outside of the prison).

These concerns were validated by one participant’s comments:

I didn’t know anything about this research until … told me. I didn’t get a letter! Maybe it was because I could have been away at Thomas, don’t know… the psych hospital … when the letters were handed out. Maybe they didn’t want me to get one you know; I wouldn’t put it past them! (Claire)

3.9.2 Participant Response Five women returned their information packets via mail, and two learned about the research from other women offenders following the first round of interviews. Nonetheless, both groups requested to participate and met the selection criteria. Coincidentally, all seven women were convicted of murder. Although an eighth potential female offender responded she declined to participate at the last minute, out of concern for jeopardising her upcoming appeal.

3.10 Sketch of the Participants Minimal demographic and background participant information was available. The prison officials provided no initial background information and the court documents, including sentencing and appeals reports, also provided very little background information. Within the court documentation, the references to psychological and psychiatric evaluations contained the most significant background data. The women in the study would of course possess the most significant background regarding their lives, but some chose not to impart this information and their narratives were focused elsewhere.

Four of the women were born outside of Australia, with two born in England, one in Turkey, and another in Egypt. The two women born in England immigrated to Australia in their 20s. The woman born in Turkey arrived in Australia as a young child when her parents immigrated. The woman of Egyptian heritage immigrated to Australia at the age of 23 through an arranged marriage.

The remaining three women were all born and raised in the state of Victoria, Australia. Little is known of the women’s childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. The exception would be the information that depicts the child abuse that three of the women experienced, which will be covered later. The youngest woman of the seven grew up in affluent surroundings. One of the women grew up in a home marred with family violence rendered by an alcoholic and abusive husband and father. Another woman’s mother deserted the family when the woman was a young child. It is known that one of the women from England grew up in a military family. Lastly, the woman of Egyptian decent was raised in what she described as an extended family that were devout Muslims and in a home where she felt cared for and loved.

Out of these seven women, their average education level obtained was 10th grade, thus falling short of completing a secondary (or senior) level of education. However, this did not preclude some from engaging in lengthy and productive employment. As an example, one participant was employed for many years in the travel industry, another woman was a professional athlete who competed at the international level, and another retired following 30 years of employment. In addition, two worked in the cleaning profession, one for a commercial business and another for herself. It also appears that two of the women worked part time, balancing homemaking and child rearing with part-time employment.

Comack (2006) established that a relationship exists between psychological, physical, and sexual abuse and violent female offending. Three of the women experienced childhood abuse. One woman experienced extensive and prolonged emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, to the extent where she was removed from the home for her own safety. The other two women were abused emotionally as children. This was in relation to harsh and continual criticisms and abandonment.

Any review of the literature pertaining to women who perpetrate murder alludes to battered woman syndrome (Walker, 1979, 1984). Two of the women in this study had documented victimisations by their spouses. One endured 30 years of abuse and another was hospitalised following an assault by her husband. Two other women alleged marital rape and one of these women cited additional physical abuse. It is framed here as alleged, as court records argued that the abuses were unfounded. In terms of marital status, at the time of their offending, two of the women were married, three were divorced, and two women had never been married. Five of these women had children and two had grandchildren.

The association between women who perpetrate homicide and mental illness is well established (Brookman, 2005; Chan, 2001; Morrissey, 2003). Two of the women had well documented histories of major depression. The same two women had substance abuse disorders, with one abusing alcohol and the other drug abuse. It should be noted that two of the women with no prior histories of mental health issues were treated for depression while awaiting their sentencing. Additionally, another woman required treatment for depression shortly after her arrival at the prison.

Only one of the women had a criminal history including multiple non-violent theft charges. During the court proceedings, it was revealed that another of the women may have been engaged in two failed attempts at her victim’s life. These alleged attempts were never prosecuted. Finally, little is known of the women’s larger social network. Some of the women have consistent communication with friends and family, other women have experienced significant estrangement from their families. Three of the women have young children with whom they have no physical contact.

3.11 Experience within the Field My rationale and pursuit for personal exploration stemmed from having had no prior work or educational experience with women offenders and the criminal justice system. In other words, information was gathered primarily from secondary sources including textbooks, scholarly journals, and media reports related to violent female offending. In addition, I pursued professional contacts and network opportunities from organisations which focused on women offenders.

This field experience enhanced my understanding of women offenders. Specifically, volunteer work was undertaken within a high profile, Australian women’s prison advocacy group that included: (a) assisting staff in finding housing for released women; (b) visiting women incarcerated in maximum and medium security prisons; (c) attending court proceedings; and, (d) escorting women to a variety of activities. This volunteer role enhanced my understanding of women offenders who passed through the organisation’s doors which proved to be critical in preparing for this research project.

Several significant and meaningful experiences occurred during this time in the field. First, it was difficult to negotiate the unwritten rule of “don’t ask and don’t tell,” since I had an inherent desire to learn more about the women, their lives, and the crimes they committed. Although boundaries prohibited me from asking these questions, one young woman offender who I was transporting to an appointment, chose to share with me that she had killed her male partner. Another noteworthy occasion involved the suicide of an ex-female offender, with whom I had spent considerable time. Clearly, these two experiences among many were personally as well as professionally challengingly. Volunteer work also provided me with an opportunity to meet scholars, government policy makers, and former or current female offenders, thereby further enriching my overall experience. Importantly, the observations, interactions, and time shared throughout the volunteer experience enhanced my understanding of the complexities involved in the lives of women offenders.

Early in the research process, the harsh reality of recidivism occurring among the women became apparent, given that this advocacy environment served as a revolving door for women being released only to reenter the criminal justice system. This was an organisation which had served as a haven and a lifeline for many of these women in need. The staff and volunteer workers integrity, sensitivity, and professionalism were extremely commendable. Moreover, I later learned many of the staff and volunteers were former offenders or had loved ones who were incarcerated. It was because of these people, who had created an apparent caring, non-judgmental, and welcoming atmosphere, that many of the women sought refuge within the organisation. Despite the genuine commitment and efforts of such a dedicated team, their clients still had a propensity to re-offend.

3.12 Researcher Preparation: Prison Visits An examination of other researchers’ experiences who interviewed incarcerated women (see, Jewkes & Letherby, 2001; Quadrelli, 2002), served to inform me of expectations that I should be prepared to face, as well as simple strategies such as limiting my dialogue with prison officials. In addition, it was important to remain sensitive to the colour and style of clothing worn in order to avoid any resemblance to prison guard uniforms (Quadrelli, 2002). As an example, Quadrelli (2002) reported she received less response from incarcerated interviewees when she wore a similar royal blue coloured jacket common to one worn by prison guards. Consequently, my style of dress throughout all interviews consisted of casual jeans, shirts, and jackets. In addition, I chose to limit the use of make-up and jewellry.

Furthermore, at the onset of my first interview, I acknowledged my limited understanding of prison terms and phrases. I made it clear to the participants that I was not an employee of the Department of Corrective Services but a student and an independent researcher. This was deemed critical in order to establish that there was no information sharing between prison staff and myself regarding the nature or content of the interviews. To further express these differences and establish clear boundaries between prison officials, the female participants and myself, the women’s last names remained anonymous.

3.12.1 Experience with Prison Officials Arriving at the prison for research purposes was lengthy and complex; to complete the process, for example, it was necessary to arrive at least 45 minutes prior to my scheduled appointment in order to be officially signed in and checked for authorised paperwork. Each time, research protocols associated with my study were examined by prison officials and this was followed by an electronic body scan. Although I was often quickly escorted to the interview building, the process entailed waiting for an hour or more at other times.

While prison officials are sometimes deemed gatekeepers who obstruct access to prisoners, my experience was that they handled my request courteously and professionally. Following the initial visit to the prison, my entry was uneventful, however, there were occasions when gate keeping behaviour was exhibited in which I was cognisant of my outsider status. Whereas prison officers routinely refer to women inmates only by their last names, correctional psychologists and medical staff typically address them by both their given and 88 last names. Thus, the significance of salutations reflects the prison culture’s elements. As an example, I was consistently referred to by prison guards as the “researcher from Queensland” which served to reinforce my status as an outsider.

3.13 Establishing Trust with Participants As emphasised in field research literature, creating trust is vital to maintaining a healthy relationship between the researcher and participant (Campbell & Wasco, 2000; Fontana & Frey, 2005; Reinharz & Chase, 2002) and is something that must be earned and nurtured (Carlen, 1998; Carlen & Worrall, 2004; Chan, 2001; Pollock, 2002). Therefore, being on time for each interview was critical and highly valued since the incarcerated sample of women were used to a regimented routine (Pollock, 2002). Especially given the time constraints for both the participants and myself, any scheduling disruption could dramatically impact the outcome of the research.

As previously mentioned, gaining entry into the prison could take minutes or even hours that would sometimes result in meeting with participants later than scheduled. Given that there was no apparent reason for some of the long delays, this lead me to question whether the long waits were intentional. When I would genuinely question the officers about the delay, their tone of voice was at times curt and their response was vague. I was also consistently aware that arriving late for an appointment, could be interpreted as a breach of trust by the women and jeopardise my opportunities to interview them.

For example, one of the women working in an extremely noisy industry section of the prison did not hear her name announced over the loud speaker system when her appointment time was scheduled. When she did not arrive at the interview room after three announcements, officers who were passing by advised me that she must have been sent to the psychiatric hospital located outside of the prison. Fortunately, the chief warden had overheard our conversation and knew that the inmate was working in the industry section. The chief warden then immediately ordered the officer to go and collect the inmate and escort her to my interview room. Although this did not appear to be a premeditated act of gate keeping, the event might have resulted in a missed interview in which the oversight or deliberate act by prison officers could have influenced her decision as to whether to further participate in my study. 89

3.14 Informed Consent and Confidentiality Informed consent necessitates that the researcher provides information including the purpose, procedures, possible risks and benefits, and alternatives to ensure that his/her subjects are able to make an informed and voluntary decision as to whether or not they wish to participate (Emanuel, Wendler, & Grady, 2000). Securing an informed consent is required for all human subject research. Cassell and Young (2002), Christians (2005), and Sin (2005) suggest that gathering informed consent from vulnerable subjects warrant special sensitivity especially when they are subjected to high levels of anxiety or fatigue or other conditions that may impair their decision making (Warren et al., 2002).

According to Bosk (2002), four criteria must be addressed in order to ensure the consent is morally valid: (a) disclosure, (b) voluntariness, (c) understanding, and (d) competence. Essentially, research subjects residing within institutions (i.e., prisons or nursing homes) are especially vulnerable based upon their sense of disempowerment which can result in consenting to research without fully contemplating the ramifications (Fisk & Wigley, 2000). Because this research dealt with incarcerated women convicted of murder, the informed consent document specifically explained there would be no incentive or punishment based upon the decision as to whether or not to participate. Further, participants were given approximately six weeks to review and consider the informed consent document prior to agreeing to take part in this research.

The original consent form mailed to the women who met the specific selection criteria, provided a statement of the risks and benefits involved that were also explained during the first interview. For a safety precaution, however, the consent forms were rehashed once more prior to the interviews (see Lee & Stanko, 2003). As required by the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, I also co-signed the consent form, a process which allowed for the monitoring of appropriate informed consent among the participants.

When working with vulnerable groups who are stigmatised by society, it is also important to maintain confidentiality (Kong, Mahoney, & Plummer, 2002). According to Christians (2005), confidentiality is especially important when researchers engage in studies related to individuals who are involved in illicit or illegal activities. Thus, Booth (1999) questioned the appropriate action when a participant discloses his or her involvement in criminal activity. 90

For the purpose of this research, such a situation was avoided by requesting that the women not discuss any issues that might further incriminate them.

Even though pseudonyms were employed to shield the women’s identities, given the very small number of women who commit murder in Victoria, Australia; any references to the women’s age, demographics, or crime would render it easy to search the media and determine the women’s individuality. As noted, Kirkwood (2003) disclosed that across Victoria, Australia, between the years of 1985-1995, women perpetrated only 77 homicides or less than eight per year. One of the women in this study has had a book written depicting her life and crime and she noted a movie was also being produced. Another woman was depicted as “the murdering grandmother.” All of the women were informed of the risk of their identities being exposed. They provided pseudonyms and asked that I present their stories as told.

3.15 The Interview Process Interviews were organised though a prison administrator in which all correspondence between myself and participants was coordinated. This included the original Response Form Information packet, giving the women a designated day and time to choose from that would coincide with my schedule.

Tape recorded and hand-written interviews were held one week per month for a total of three weeks over a six-month period in which 19 interviews ranging from one to three hours in length were conducted. The interviews took place in a building referred to as “Programs” in which correctional employees, psychologists, counsellors, and chaplains worked together. Inmates, however, were required to request permission to enter this highly secured unit.

The interviews were conducted in a small room sparsely furnished with one table, two chairs, and a red emergency button thus dictating that the researcher and participant sit very near to one another. Despite the cramped and impersonal interview rooms that appeared to invade upon one’s personal space, this did not, however, hinder the interview process. On the other hand, the frequency with which prison officers walked by the interview door, stopped, and peered through the glass window was at first, unsettling. Although the need for safety was imperative, appreciated, and well understood, there was always a pause taken between myself and the participant, when the officer stopped and looked in. The interview room door always 91 remained closed but not locked. Notably, the interview rooms were not sound proof and therefore, conversations could easily be overheard.

As a feminist researcher, a student, and a non-member of the correctional facility, I chose to alter the inherent balance of power that guides the participants’ lives. By introducing myself and providing some of my personal background, I was able to establish a playing field level with the participants. Likewise, the participants were asked to provide basic background information about themselves. As Brayton (1997) stated:

… having to explain personal experiences and feelings with an outsider allows women the space to critically assess their own lived realities. It reinforces their location as author and expert to the situation. It also potentially gives women the opportunity to safely criticize their community, organization or situation without fear of discovery. (para, 17)

After my self-disclosure was procedurally presented and ethical considerations were covered, the objective was to invite the women to freely share their life experiences in order to establish a comfort level between us (Bosworth, 1999). A semi-structured list of questions was developed to serve as an ice-breaker. Following my own self-disclosure, it was my intention to learn more about the women. The following are some of the questions posed:

 Tell me about yourself  How long have you been incarcerated?  Describe your daily routine.  How would you describe your health and general well-being?  How would you describe the nature of your relationships with other inmates and staff?

These initial questions were intended to encourage the participants to convey significant information in her own words, related to herself and her history. Although non-specific and open-ended questions were utilised to provide a degree of structure to the dialogue, this process allowed me to gain insight into the women’s personal events that they believed were most critical to their life stories. As a feminist researcher, I acknowledged that subjective 92 responses enabled each woman to identify the importance of particular life events and the meaning attributed to each experience.

Throughout the course of the interviews, I continued to utilise the following exemplified semi-structured questions that provided an opportunity for each participant to respond through her own voice, while staying within the framework of my study:

 Some people would argue a woman who takes a life is mad or mentally ill, or just bad; what do you think about this and why?  In times of stress, do you consider yourself a rational or irrational person? Can you recall some situations related to this?  People may think you are a victim, an offender, or both. How do you understand that?

Occasionally, a participant would simply separate from a topic as though she had said all she proposed to say. When this dynamic occurred, I would knowingly ease into another subject area. If the topic left behind was deemed critical to understanding the woman’s identity construction, I, at times, revisited it in another session.

3.16 Ministering Grace Few women are more marginalised than incarcerated women who kill, many of whom have limited or no familial interactions and are thus stigmatised within and outside the prison walls. As a feminist researcher, I treated these women with respect and offered them any small available amenities. However, monetary exchange was not permitted nor were the women granted any special privileges. Given these constraints, I considered that the greatest compliment included the highest degree of compassion allowed in a prison setting. During each interview, I strived to provide the warmest possible welcome by offering a glass of water or a cup of tea or coffee. I would also bring in assorted chocolates following the first round of interviews; however, since gifts were not allowed, the chocolates were given to the prison staff and then placed on my table where the women were allowed to enjoy them during our interviews.

3.17 Conclusion of Interviews: Leaving the Women Behind Letherby (2003) posed the following questions pertaining to the relationship between participant and researcher: (1) What happens when each of the interviews concludes (i.e., does the participant feel abandoned?); and, (2) How does a researcher finally end a relationship or bring closure after completion of the research?

In the case of my study, the women’s personal reactions and responses were dependent upon the nature of the relationship in which we bonded together. Letherby (2003) drew upon an example of “process outcomes” when participants and researchers say goodbye by referring to the “flow of power between the researcher and the researched” (p. 117). One result is that the participant feels abandoned and left to fend for herself. In my particular situation, saying goodbye to each of the women involved some sadness. There may have also been some emotion felt by some of the women who had hugged and thanked me after their last interview. In addition, any notions of abandonment on the part of the women were also difficult to gauge. Overall, as asserted by Bosworth (1999), it appears that during my time spent interviewing the women, a comfortable relationship was established and power was shared by both parties (Brayton, 1997).

3.18 Transcribing Some researchers view interview transcriptions as purely a technical task and may therefore opt to have another person transcribe them (Dickson-Swift et al., 2007). Although the process is laborious, Riessman (1993) argued that transcribing interviews remains the best way for a researcher to familiarise herself with the data. However, challenges commonly associated with transcribing narratives have received little empirical attention (Cameron, 1993). According to Melrose (2002), one of the most frequently cited issues involves listening to powerful stories that can result in an emotionally upsetting experience. Warr (2004) further added that the researcher “absorb[s] the voices and stories of research” (p. 586). Thus, transcribing the narratives required me to listen to the tapes numerous times in order to accurately record information, a process that served to enhance the study theme’s identification process.

The transcribing procedure yielded long hours of listening to tape-recorded narratives, re- listening and transcribing each woman’s story individually. Essentially, the process was 94 further complicated given that information taken from my hand-written notes was also incorporated into the transcribed narratives, which caused me to pause in order to reflect upon and capture relevant mood shifts and voice fluctuations expressed by each of the women. Upon completion of the narrative transcriptions, a copy was printed and bound together with each woman’s court documentations.

3.19 Researcher Debriefing Due to the nature and sensitivity of my research, the Queensland University of Technology, Human Research Ethics Committee required me to attend debriefing sessions with a university counsellor that took place following each weekly prison round of interviews. During these sessions, I acknowledged that there were personally disturbing occasions when the women discussed horrific and traumatic experiences that occurred both in and outside of the prison. My attendance at the debriefing sessions proved to be most beneficial.

3.20 Conclusion This chapter represents the methodological approach to the research. The feminist criminological research endeavour has sought to shift the focus from the concerns of men and introduce the locations and perspective of women offenders. More specifically, feminist methodologies strive to provide a voice to the women. In order to engage the voice of the woman, qualitative methodologies were identified as the primary vehicle to move the feminist criminological research agenda forward.

A key understanding for feminists is that research with women who perpetrate violence is sensitive. Many of the research participants are ethnic minorities and marginalised on several fronts. In entering the private lives of women who perpetrate violence, sensitive topics to include rape, mental illness, and sexual orientation are revealed. According to Renzetti and Lee (1993) invading the private sphere of violent women offenders, means we must remain sensitive to their vulnerabilities. Violent women offenders who are incarcerated are a hard to reach population. There exists a myriad of hurdles in reaching incarcerated women which Patenaude (2004) refers to as gate keeping. These include negotiating with IRBs and prison administrations. Furthermore, once granted permission to proceed, there are often hurdles within the prison itself which serve as a challenge to the researcher. Subsequently, these obstacles have limited qualitative researchers from the pursuit of incarcerated women and as 95

Patenaude (2004) notes most of the research with them has been quantitative. Patenaude’s (2004) observations were realised in this research as two years of negotiation were required to gain access to the women’s prison.

Narrative analysis employing in-depth interviews is a labour intensive venture. Orchestrating interviews with the women required significant interactions with prison staff. Hours of face- to-face interviews were conducted and then transcribed by the researcher resulting in several hundred pages of narrative. In addition, following each interview the researcher reflected on the interview and made extensive notes related to the interaction. Narrative analysis requires the mining of the narratives in search of themes and sub-themes related to the research question and sub-questions. This process required several readings of the narratives to become intimately acquainted with the voice of the women.

Finally, conducting in-depth research with sensitive populations such as women convicted and incarcerated for murder places the women and the researcher at risk for untoward experiences. In discussing victimisations and details of their criminality, the women were at jeopardy of emotional trauma. This researcher was encouraged by the university to meet with a university psychologist routinely following prison visits to debrief. Perhaps the most difficult emotional experience for the women and the researcher was the disengaging from the research or saying farewell.

Chapter Four: Narratives

4.1 Introduction: Bella, Lil, Sarah, and Wendy Chapters Four and Five introduce the narratives of the seven women convicted of murder as they explore and construct their identities. Chapter Four addresses the identity construction for the women who acknowledged their offenses, whereas Chapter Five provides the narratives of those women who denied committing murder. The rationale for dividing the chapters was informed by previous feminist research and theory which ascribed violence as antithetical to femininity and to being a good and proper woman. It was therefore thought important to determine whether acknowledging violence affected the woman’s identity construction. The narratives of the women are supplemented by documented court narratives which while playing a secondary role to the women’s stories are able to place their identity formation in the context of social discourses about violence and femininity that are played out in the criminal justice system and within which the women need to negotiate.

4.2 Women Who Acknowledge Murder: Their Stories In western societies, the legal systems and media have befriended the discourse of normative femininity, as an umbrella within which several dominant constructs reside. The normative frame of femininity operationalises the discourses of victimisation, pathologisation and domesticity which have been discussed in detail in chapter two. Essentially, good women should be clothed in passivity and be inherently nurturing (Daly, 1994). Based upon an equation between passivity and femininity, a woman who kills is far more degraded than when a man commits the same offense (Morrissey, 2003). According to Jensen (2001) the belief that women should be caring, non-aggressive, and certainly non-violent is deeply embedded in western culture where a good woman values the needs of others above her own (Thornton, 1995). The strong social influence of normative femininity is thus positioned as the dominant discourse from which women draw to construct their identities.

One of the earliest studies focusing on how women construct their own identities was conducted by Gilligan (1982) who argued that the self is primarily associated with an attachment to others through relationships and responsibilities. The idea that a woman’s identity formation is developed largely through relationships is now dominant in feminist 97 research (Brown & Gilligan, 1992; Campbell, 1993). Precisely because they define themselves by how they believe others perceive them, women offenders have far more difficulty dislodging stigmatising labels when compared to male offenders (Geiger & Fischer 2005; Sands, 1996). This means that labels can become incorporated into their self-concepts and greatly influence their self-perceptions and self-identities (Mead, 1934). Stereotyped as violent offenders the women in this research experience a cognitive dissonance which surfaces as they attempt to negotiate the gap between their prosocial self-identities and the violent woman label (Burke, 2001). Because these cultural scripts have a far reaching impact on an offending woman’s self-concept, this also acts as an impetus for the rejection of stigmatising labels, and the effort placed in (re)negotiating a favourable identity.

4.3 Bella: I Am More Than My Crime Bella was 32 years of age when she and a male co-defendant murdered an elderly man. Bella plead guilty to the charge. The sentencing document read: “murder following home evasion.” She was sentenced to 21 years with a non-parole of 17 years. Her male co- defendant was sentenced to 19 years with a non-parole of 16 years. Bella had previous criminal charges, all non-violent and related to theft. Bella argued that she had been raped by the elderly male victim two years prior to the murder. Her intent was to go to the victims’ home, confront him and make him pay. She claimed that she never meant for him to die.

Bella alleged that she was intoxicated at the time of the murder having ingested a cocktail of drugs. She contends that if she had not been under the influence of drugs, she would not have resorted to such brutality. The prosecution argued that Bella was never raped and the purpose of her home evasion was to rob the victim at whatever cost. The judge concluded that Bella and the co-defendant’s past drug addiction and the drugs taken prior to the crime may have motivated them; however, it “cannot provide an explanation for what would otherwise be an inexplicable cruel and inhuman attack.” From our initial greeting and handshake, and throughout the three interviews, Bella continually thanked me for allowing her voice to be heard by commenting: “Yeah, I want my kids to know about their mum, this may give them a chance to read about it from my perspective … when they get older.”

During the first interview Bella reflected on her early childhood, her teenage years and the impact of her childhood on her later life: 98

God, where do I begin, it wasn’t easy, but it was home, it was home for me. I went through a lot you know, it was pretty tough going … the abuse … and you know, all that went down with my parents.

Feminist criminologists (see Chesney-Lind & Rodiguez, 1983; Daly, 1992; Gaardner & Belknap, 2002) called attention to the high rates of child victimisation among women who violently offend. Bella vividly recalled her history of abuse as a child and adolescent:

You know, I grew up in a really messed up home; my dad was a violent bloke. I watched my mum get beaten up … my dad used to beat me up too. Mum was hardly around, yeah, because she had to work all the time, so really … my dad could just drink and gamble. Things at home just got worse and worse you know, and when I was 15, the state took me away.

Bella chose not to disclose the nature of the physical abuse she endured as a child but did share the sexual abuse suffered as a teenager: “It was disgusting and unforgiveable what he did to me, back then.” She recalled being raped by her neighbour and the failure of her parents to step in and protect her:

This neighbour’s boy sexually assaulted me, yeah, for three years. It really hurt me inside you know, the physical hurts … but the emotional bit just kills you, it kills you inside! I am sure they knew, but they never stepped in and tried to stop it! They just turned a blind eye to what was really going on. My family was so screwed up at the time, who would have believed or helped me … anyway?

Ness (2010) has pointed out that the majority of research related to violent male delinquent offending focuses on physical abuse while the study of violent young women tends to focus more on sexual abuse. In a similar fashion, Bella chose to minimise the physical abuse she endured and focus on the impact of the sexual abuse.

The relationship between early childhood sexual abuse and women who later violently offend has been well established. Alarid and Cromwell (2006) emphasised that childhood abuse 99 and neglect are associated with violent offending that can lead adult women on the pathway to crime. Similarly, Widom (2000b) found that women who had histories of child abuse and neglect were 2.4 times more likely to be charged for committing violent crimes. Finally, Batchelor (2005) interviewed 21 Scottish women ranging in age from 16 to 24 who had engaged in acts of violence including murder. In her study, she discovered that more than half of the women had experienced childhood abuse of which 40% reported sexual abuse. In Bella’s case, she had endured both physical abuse as a young child and sexual abuse as a teenager. The sustained emotional impact of sexual abuse by her male neighbour in conjunction with her parents’ refusal to acknowledge that the abuse had occurred was a significant focus for Bella:

Yeah, it screws with your mind … shit; I lived at home, regularly being beaten, shit, that was a normal upbringing for me, and mum too! But it got worse for me, yeah, having to face … shit, screwed, raped as a teenager. I was never the same after that; you are never the same. Then mum and dad ignore it all, and next I’m taken away. I don’t think I was angry, but very confused … and yeah, it just numbs you, I was just numb inside and later, a bit later, yeah I was rebellious, I think? It’s the emotional stuff you feel after being raped that really hurts.

Bella elaborated on the emotional pain she suffered from being raped and the personal betrayal exhibited by her parents. Although she reportedly claimed that she was no longer angry, she remained confused as to why these events happened to her as a child and later as a teenager:

When I was young and growing up, back then, yeah … doing the girlie things as a teenager, you realise that kids are the victims here … I now think back then and I was one of them, I was possibly a victim as a child, looking back, yeah. I mean … you don’t think about those things like victim when you are going through it as a kid, but now it’s clearer, yeah, clear to me that I must have been. Back then, I sort of blamed myself in some way, maybe for allowing the rape to happen … I’m not, not angry talking about this, or really 100

when it happened back then … but still wonder why, shit, it had to happen to me.

In the 1990 Canadian report of the Task Force on Federally Sentenced Women (TFFSW), histories of abuse were specified as being the primary defining feature among women who violently offend. According to the TFFSW, 53% of the women had been sexually abused at some point in their life. In later research conducted in the United States, Siegel and Williams (2003) recognised a relationship between women who violently offend and childhood sexual abuse. However, Bella drew no connection between her adolescent sexual mistreatment in relation to her violent offending:

I’m different now, things change, people change and grow up … you know, what happened to me as a child, when I think about it now, really, it had nothing to do with me killing him. I’m in here because, yeah, he pissed me off in a big way, he raped me and I was bloody angry at him for doing this to me, abusing me and stuff … yeah, I was bloody angry … but I just wanted to punish him, you know, that’s it!

At this juncture, Bella addressed a number of poor life decisions she had made including getting married at a young age to an abusive man. Specifically, she spoke at length regarding the physical and emotional abuse she had experienced: “When I was a girl, I was beaten by my dad and raped by the bloke next door and later I married this man … and he also bloody abused me, yeah … talk about the choices I made!” In sharing another battering episode by her ex-husband, she stated:

He was a violent man, he was a real control freak, and it was like I couldn’t speak or do anything you know. Shit, once I had to go to the emergency room and I had to have stitches because he’d beaten the crap out of me. I wasn’t about to press charges because I didn’t know what he would do to me and the kids … I was scared for the kids and me.

Bella continued to talk about her past experiences involving men, namely her father and ex- husband, before directing her discussion to the victim. She alleged that several months prior 101 to the homicide, she had been raped by him: “I know he was this old man, yeah … but he bloody raped me. He took advantage of me and sexually violated me, you know.” Bella added: “I was so angry at him, I couldn’t let that go, I felt this way for months … how dare he! I felt I did what I did at the time because he hurt me, he made me so angry.”

Bella was encouraged to communicate how she currently viewed herself as a grown woman incarcerated for murder compared to who she was growing up and being married:

First of all, I certainly had to grow up quick; you do when you leave home at 15 and have no idea, no idea, of what the hell is going to happen to you. I had to be tougher, as I got older, yeah, just to survive out there.

I had no idea that my ex was going to abuse me … who does when you get married so young. You think everything is going be great, but it wasn’t. I had been through a lot before I met him … so, I probably was tough, just had to be, you know, but he had the upper hand in my marriage … I had my kids to think about. I didn’t start out being this, you know, tough little girl growing up, it just happened; I had to be later on.

Bella continued to share her thoughts related to childhood and adult abuses and how they impacted her identity. She said:

I got so used to the abuse growing up, that I became just kind of hard, toughened up you know, as I got older. Maybe I grew callous. I think being in here and you asking me to tell you who I am now, well it’s weird, because, I’m still the same Bella, as I was when I was a child. I was kind and caring, but things change, people change you. Now, I know I got tougher out there, as I said before, you had to be to survive, but in here, I’m not the tough one, I’m pretty kind and considerate, not angry any more, just doing time, trying to keep to myself a bit … I am just saddened by what went down, the loss of my kids … and yeah, he died.

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You ask me if my childhood impacted on what I did, what I did to him … I don’t think so; it’s a hard one to answer. I do know I had to stand up to him for what he did; I know what being raped is like, you feel helpless and yeah, I was angry back then.

Reflecting back on the murder, Bella expressed more rage towards her victim by strongly stating: “I think … I think when he raped me, I felt helpless all over again, just like before … and this is what I reckon my anger is all about.” Similarly, Edwards (1986) researched the histories of abuse and women who violently offend as they relate to an expression of incapacity and helplessness: “On the whole most violent crimes committed by women are not an exercise in power but an exercise in helplessness” (p. 86).

At this point of the interview, Bella appeared to be astonished to recognise her own callousness while at the same time understanding herself as a vulnerable woman who had identified with a prevailing sense of helplessness throughout her life:

It’s like I want to think I am a strong woman, and I was bloody tough, yeah … I had to be … because I can’t think of one person I could ever rely on. I think my mum wanted to help, but she was too afraid of him.

Bella exclaimed how her ex-husband’s abuse impacted future relationships with others, primarily males: “He used to tell me I was weak and no good, especially when I cried.” She continued to share how she interpreted his abuse as being “stepped on”:

I think he treated me … so badly, made me want others to feel my pain. A few years back, I had met a couple of nice guys, dated them for some time … but I treated them badly … in the end, too.

In further mentioning previous relationships she had experienced with men, Bella recounted: “I had really lost myself and really didn’t care about hurting others; I just knew I wasn’t going to be hurt by them.” As a drug abusing prostitute who violently offended, Bella was determined not to allow herself to be hurt once again. Laughingly, Bella stated: “It’s funny 103 you know … the past few years in here … my softer side has come back, I guess, a bit like the little girl, all those years ago.”

In light of her history of abuse, Bella was asked if she viewed herself as a victim during the time of committing murder as compared to now. Without hesitation, she emphatically responded: “No, no, definitely not!” Although Bella frequently expressed and mentioned her numerous “victimisations,” she did not frame herself as a victim. Rather, the opportunity to harm the deceased was not due to being his victim: “I was angry with him, yeah, he had no right, anger is what probably drove me more than anything, you know.” This accords with Campbell’s (1993) finding that women who have been raped and go on to commit homicide experience intense shame which may eventually lead to anger and violent offending towards their abuser.

Throughout Bella’s narrative dialogues, she associated the term victim with negative connotations and thereby resisted this identity. In research conducted with battered women, Leisenring (2006) concluded that some women reject the victim status due to the stigma associated with the label. As one woman in her sample declared, “if you are a victim of domestic violence there’s still a stigma that goes with it … that you’re a trouble maker, you know … that maybe you brought it on yourself” (p. 318). Similarly, Bella shed further light on her discomfort with the victim identity. She claimed:

A victim can mean you are weak. In here, you can’t show weakness … no way! You know, the counsellors in here have tried for years to have me call myself a victim, it’s crazy. They read about your past and then tell you: “you are now a victim.” Most of the long termers in here, the girls, call themselves victims, yeah; they don’t want to own up to what they did, I guess. A victim means you blame something or someone else, I think. I’m not a victim because I chose to do what I did, but not leave him for dead.

In a recent study, Comack and Brickey (2007) reported that an overwhelming number of women who violently offend acknowledged a victim identity and the impact that victimisation had on their lives. Comack and Brickey (2007) argued that the victim identity was often accommodated by suggesting this may in part be related to “… the availability of a 104 feminist discourse through which to name their victim experiences” (p. 25). However, in a study conducted by Leisenring (2006), 40 women who had experienced intimate partner violence were interviewed in an effort to understand how victimisation impacted their identities. Despite their emotional and physical abuse, several did not identify with the victim discourse thus revealing that each woman had her own definition of what constitutes victimisation.

Similarly, Bella’s narrative revealed a strong rejection of the victim identity and an acknowledgement of her violent behaviour. While acknowledging a life in which she was consistently victimised, Bella would not equate her violent offending with the abuse she endured. While she could have sought to neutralise her violent identity by embracing the victim discourse she resisted this opportunity (see Geiger & Fischer, 2005). Interestingly Bella was not offered a public identity of victim. Bella shared:

I wasn’t portrayed by the court as this big victim you know … they didn’t see me, see me as that. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me … because I think that the worst thing you can do for anyone, is feel sorry for them.

Bella was ambivalent towards her victim status. Loeske (2003) has argued that a woman offender can legitimately be deemed a victim only when perceived by others as being worthy of sympathy. Bella’s portrayal in court as not worthy of a victim status may be related to her refusal to identify with this position as well as her belief that she willingly committed a crime of violence and therefore did not warrant the victim identity.

4.4 Pathologisation: The Discourse of Mad Mainstream and feminist criminological research designed to understand women who kill have positioned pathology as a universal explanation (Allen, 1987; Carlen, 2002; Easteal, 2001; Kirkwood, 2000; Lloyd, 1995; Wilczynski, 1995). Arguably, pathologising a woman who kills serves to further victimise them (Morrissey, 2003). For example, pathologisation often overrides notions of a woman’s volition to kill. Chan (2001) and Morrissey (2003) asserted that women are over-represented as mentally ill when they engage in homicide. In my study, Bella was one of two women who were under the influence of a mood altering 105 chemical when they perpetrated homicide. During the first interview with Bella, she openly discussed her identity as a drug addict:

When I lost custody of my youngest kid, it all changed for me. I just lost it you know … and just turned to drugs, yeah, I was hurting … I was like out of control. Can you believe they took my son and gave him back to my ex … who beat me up so badly I had to be hospitalised. It was so bloody wrong. I had no one to turn to, you know, lean on, help me … and found myself drinking at first and then doing drugs. But, I only did drugs a few years before I did what I did to the old bloke. I was taking all kinds of drugs, just like that night of the murder. I was angry, I was truly hurting, and must have been just … shit … out of control.

Bella acknowledged that losing custody of her youngest child “changed her.” In Granfelt’s (1998) study of Finnish homeless women, she encountered marginalised women, many of whom had their children taken away and others who made a conscious choice to relinquish custody. Given that motherhood is at the very heart of womanhood, Granfelt (1998) argued that giving up children can devastate a woman’s identity and serve as a starting point for her life to spin out of control. This was also Bella’s claim. She repeatedly framed her drug addiction as an agonising brief window of time beginning after she lost custody of her youngest child. She argued:

Yeah, the prosecution … they kept calling me this drug abusing prostitute you know. Seems they forgot about the first 28 years of my life … when I had never been in trouble … no, I never used a drug back then.

The association between substance abuse and women who kill was noted by Jordan, Schlenger, Fairbank, and Caddell (1996). Their research revealed that substance abuse was the most frequently reported mental illness associated with homicide and that it had a significantly higher prevalence than depression or personality disorders. In a later study conducted in England by Singleton, Meltzer, Gatward, Coid, and Deasy (1998) reported that 40% of the women who committed homicide had diagnosable alcohol problems. A comment from Bella resonates with this later study: 106

You know, most of the younger girls in here, there in here for violent crimes, they have drinking and drug problems, you see them around here, they probably won’t come out and say it, but maybe there’s some kind of connection, look at me.

Nevertheless and despite suggesting that her drug use was related to her offending behaviours “out of control,” Bella sought to distance herself from the drug addict label: “Like I said, there are lots of young girls, violent girls in here that are drug addicts you know. They have been doing this since their teens … and most will leave here and keep doing drugs and getting into trouble.” Her idea of a drug addict was informed by what she experienced with young, drug abusing repeat offenders. She removed its reference from her current identity by speaking of the addiction as a former snapshot of herself:

I know I used drugs to blot out my pain, and tied it in with the life I was living, back then. I probably wouldn’t be here today, if it weren’t for drugs. I have been clean in here for years and I’m not going back to that. I did the alcohol program yeah … three times you know, I’m good to go.

You go to the counsellors and talk to them, you’ve got to do it sometimes in here, and I suppose it helped me, really, because I had some problems before I got here.

Bella’s reflections on drug addiction and violence lead to what Presser (2002) referred to as return narrative - an effort to restore oneself to a previous good and moral character. Through this narrative, Bella sought a return to her true moral self, a good woman who is now free of drug abuse. Presser (2002) further noted that offenders who sometimes apply the return narrative can defer to an abnormal mental status during the commission of their crimes. This is evident in Bella’s self-portrayal for although the seriousness of her crime was acknowledged, Bella held her drug addiction to be the reason she was in prison now.

Bella also briefly engaged in narratives related to her history of depression. According to Wilczynski (1997), a woman is often diagnosed with postpartum depression when the 107 murders a child but the prevalence of depression among many women who kill an adult is rarely implicated as a causal factor. Bella stated:

Things were so bad in my marriage. I felt like … trapped and helpless. I ended up trying to, at one time … kill myself, I spent about three months in a psychiatric hospital. It was a terrible time of my life, yeah. When I look back you know … I think I’ve had depression off and on since I was a kid. But, no one was around for me as a kid … that might have said, hey, maybe I am depressed and need some help. Maybe that’s why I was doing drugs later on, I don’t really know.

Bella considered her depression as well as her drug addiction a piece of her past and no longer a part of her current identity. She also did not equate her depression and addiction with a victim identity but rather expressed her disdain of weaknesses or behaviours such as these being linked to victimisation: “No, I have not had counselling in here for depression. No, but lots of the girls do, though. They get on medication and go to the psych program.” Bella also spoke of women who used correctional mental health professionals in an effort to excuse their criminality: “I can’t blame my depression for what I did. You have to face facts, face it, take some responsibility … and move on like I try to do in here. You have to be strong and do the next thing.”

4.5 Bad and Evil: I Never Intended to Kill The bad discourse is frequently referenced in feminist criminological literature regarding women who kill (Chan, 2005; Ferraro, 2006; Morrissey, 2003). In addition, the mass media has adopted the bad and evil descriptors for women who kill (see Cavaglion, 2008; Nyawanza, 2009) and court narratives also engage the bad and evil discourse (Morrissey, 2003; Murphy & Whitty, 2006).

In analysing how women who violently offend frame their identities, narratives are woven into references pertaining to bad and evil constructs. For example, the women in my study frequently described the young repeat offenders as bad and evil, a frame of reference used to distance their own selves from this identity. Further, several of the women appeared to be distressed and preoccupied with the media and courts portrayal of them as bad and evil. 108

The media and courts framed Bella with numerous references to the bad and evil discourse. What especially troubled Bella was being identified as an “evil drug abusing prostitute that killed an old man.” She therefore addressed what she believed to be a short sighted and unfair depiction of her as a person:

I did read some of the news you know … and never once did they say a thing about me being a single mum, a good mum … who had been abused her whole life. They never talked about me working hard … trying to care for my kids without any support. They went right to this thing about me being wicked and evil. Yeah, I think the court was worse in describing me. I don’t know if you can ever get rid of these labels, they stick, you know. I did a terrible thing, yeah, it was wrong to leave him die.

But, does this one act of violence in my lifetime mean I’m this bad, evil … devil like woman? Shit, can that stuff just wipe out a lifetime, where I was good you know, I did the right thing. Ask the staff here; ask my friends and family, you can ask the other girls in here. Is [Bella] … is she an evil and wicked person? No, they’d probably say no, she’s a good woman who once did a terrible thing, she stuffed up.

Bella recognised that she was residing in a moral vacuum described by Krista (1994) as one in which society reserves for the depraved and wicked women who kill. It is clear that Bella was attempting to resist or neutralise her label of a deviant and violent drug abusing prostitute. In Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) analysis of women who violently offend, they found that prostitutes, drug addicts, incompetent parents, and those who perpetrate violence are most often awarded deviant identities. According to Geiger and Fisher (2005, p. 195): “the deviant label will only ‘stick’ to the extent that it “cannot be neutralized, resisted and cast off as alien to the self.” In her narrative, Bella attempted to negotiate a socially acceptable identity and thus shed light on the stigmatism she inherited.

4.6 Domesticity: My Children Are My Life The dominance of normative femininity via domesticity was apparent in the identity constructions of all seven women I interviewed. This held true for women offenders who 109 acknowledged their murder and those who did not. Essentially, the construct of a good mother appeared to be the most influential factor closely followed by being a good woman. In Comack and Brickey’s (2007) study the most coveted future identity was that of being a good mother. Bella addressed her identity in a similar fashion:

I married young you know … at 18 and then had the kids quickly after that. I did everything I knew to do, to be a good wife and mother. He was violent and controlled everything, but I thought a good woman stays and makes the best of it. Besides, like I told you, if I went to the police, it would just make things worse you know. It was always all about the kid’s for me you know. I was there for them and did my best to protect them.

By identifying with the construct of domesticity, Bella perceived that her role was to remain with her husband, be a good wife, and a doting mother. Protecting her children was a high priority:

They have me here, in this hole … you know, for what I did, and yeah, it bloody hurts … but having my kids taken away and not seeing them … is far worse, they need their mum, no matter what I did and what others want to think … I’m not like some of the others in here.

Bella abruptly shifted the discussion from good mother and missing her children to making a comparison of “her verses them.” Here, she was referring to the “other women” in prison serving sentences for violent crimes committed towards children. She vehemently argued that these women had violated their role as a mother. At that moment during the interview, she became notably irritated: “Those girls in here who have hurt children, some of them, their own flesh and blood … they don’t deserve the title of mum; they are the wicked and the evil ones in here, yeah.”

Segregating herself from women who had either murdered or physically or sexually abused their children, Bella referred to them in the following manner: “They are the worst of the worst, you know.” Although Bella acknowledged her offense and the gravity of what she had 110 done, her rationalisation was that harming a child was a far worse crime than killing an abusive male. She claimed:

There’s a lot of them in here who are in the special protection unit … yeah, they’re what we call the tampers … yeah, they tampered with children. Some of them even raped and molested and some even killed their kids, yeah. It’s disgusting, its sick … maybe some are mentally unstable, you know, a little screwy … who knows, but I reckon lots of them aren’t. How could a woman, a mother … be a bloody pedophile? I mean, children are defenseless … I know what that’s like.

Bella took a long pause before continuing:

Being a mum, how could you ever hurt yours or someone else’s helpless child? This is evil and shit, really wicked stuff. There was a woman in here that killed her child and only got six years you know, I can’t understand it … she should have got bloody life! Her instinct should be to protect her child not kill him.

Geiger and Fischer (2005) asserted that there was no label as difficult for women to negotiate as that of being an incompetent or bad mother. As a drug abusing prostitute who had lost her children, it can be argued that Bella was also unable to escape the label of incompetent mother regardless of the rationale given for her behaviour. According to Geiger and Fischer (2005, p. 203), the “master status of motherhood” does not allow women to discard an incompetent mother identity easily. Bella attempted to cast off or neutralise her identity as an incompetent mother by comparing the murder she had committed to a far more evil offense in her eyes - abusing or killing a child.

4.7 Rational or Irrational: Something Just Went Wrong None of the women were asked specific questions as to how and why they killed since this was not the motivation behind my research. However, all the women were posed with the question whether murder was considered to be a rational or irrational act. Bella was quite vocal in discussing this point: 111

Yeah, I think I was a clear thinker until I got involved with drugs. I mean, I had to think clearly as a single mum … and just to survive, you have to be … right! It’s like I told you, I think any woman if pushed to the limit, pushed hard enough, can be irrational and do some shit … crazy things. I think when I tried to kill myself, I was not clearly thinking, no, not at all. But if you want to know why I am here, this man, you know, he bloody raped me, and really hurt me … and all I could think of was you know, making him pay … make him suffer.

It’s like, well, it’s hard to explain … but all I can say it possessed me for months. I know the drugs didn’t help me, I reckon that had something to do with this. But you know, drugs or no drugs, I probably would have made him pay.

These statements suggest that while Bella may position some of her violent behaviour as stemming from an irrational state of mind induced by drugs, she was also adamant that her victim should have to pay for what he had done to her no matter what the cost: “I can’t blame it all on the drugs, you know, I did what I had to do, it was at that time about pay back … yeah, there are some regrets now.” On the other hand, placing emphasis on “payback” which dominated Bella’s discussion can also be a strategy aimed at neutralising the intentional nature of the act by minimising and blaming others. In effect, Bella placed blame on her victim whom she believed deserved to suffer and the references made to numerous violations inflicted upon her served to minimise her violent behaviour toward him in her own identity construction.

Bella also used the expression “one off” - a notable term mentioned by other women within this study when asked to explain their conceptualisation of rationality and irrationality in committing a violent offense. She asserted:

I think when a woman kills, it’s like a one off … you know. I reckon most women never really think about doing the killing, but they all have a boiling point you know, it can bloody happen! I hear lots of times they are forced to 112

kill to defend themselves, like some of the girls in here … from their husbands or boyfriends.

But for me, it was an accident. I didn’t go there and intend to kill him … leave him for dead … but I wanted to make him suffer; yeah, make him suffer for what he did to me. Sometimes we only want to hurt them … things go wrong and you accidentally kill someone. It’s like, you’re in a desperate situation and it all just goes wrong sometimes … like me, you know. Hey, it happened to me … now look at me, I’m paying back, big time [smiles].

Within feminist criminological research, the irrational nature of violent offending and its impact on a woman’s identity formation was never discussed but Presser’s (2002) study of narratives provided by male offenders may hold relevance. Her study revealed that violent acts were often considered to be out of character by the offender. Presser (2002) claimed that these acts appeared to confuse the offenders as if they were shocked by their own behaviours: “Even after four years it just doesn’t seem real” (p. 89). Presser (2002) concluded that “… the self he knew was not the self that had taken a life” (p. 89).

4.8 Shame Frame: I Was Violated In discussing women’s violent offending as an expressive show of pent up emotions, Campbell (1993) argued that in an effort to reduce the shame brought about from a previous situation like rape, it is sometimes necessary for a humiliated or shamed woman to save face through a resort to violence (Miller, 2008). In Lattu’s (2003) study, women who had perpetuated homicide were asked how they felt about their violent offending. She found that shame often produced a feeling of “not being a normal woman, being a stranger” (p. 10). Through an examination of a woman’s offending behaviour in relation to shame, Gilligan (1996) hypothesised that violence is largely an effort at lessening defamation and that violence can replace shame with pride (Miller, 2008). In the following narrative, Bella expressed her shame and humiliation associated with being raped. She stated:

Yeah, he was an old man and raped me … you know. Possibly him being old … people saying he couldn’t have done that to me; at his age … yeah, right, 113

[frowns and rolls her eyes] that made me angry. I couldn’t let go of what he did to me.

I’m not sure where rational and irrational begins and ends, really … what it really means. I believe I’m normally a rational woman; I think I have been all my life until the drugs kicked in. When I think about what I did, I don’t think I could have done it when I was straight you know. I think the cocktail of cocaine and some of the sleeping pills had some influence on my thinking, at the time. I don’t know if anyone really high on drugs can be thinking rationally, it’s got to screw with your brains somehow … I don’t think I was.

Among the seven women, Bella was the only woman who had a previous criminal record yet during our discussions she only referred to “the one terrible thing I did.” Bella argued:

I never got into violence, no, never ever until this thing I did. The other charges were for stealing and forgery, none of these were me being violent, no. I was just getting money for drugs. You see, maybe I would never have been in trouble with the law if it weren’t for doing the drugs. I think I am a pretty level headed woman … and I can be reasonable when I don’t take drugs, yeah.

In struggling with her status as a violent offender, Bella’s discomfort may have been related to the limited discourses available that explain violent women (Comack & Belfour, 2004). It was thus important to her to emphasise that her previous criminality was not violent in nature.

4.9 Bella Frames Her Identity All seven women were asked to describe who they currently are and if they perceived of themselves differently prior to the crimes they committed. Bella anticipated being asked this question, it gave her an opportunity to express her return to the moral person she believed she was prior to her drug abuse and criminal behaviour. She grinned and stated: “I thought you might ask a question like this … it makes you have to think about yourself more, you know. I’ve had plenty of time in here to think.” She continued:

114

Well, I believe they got it all, all wrong, they got it all wrong. I’m not this evil, witch of a woman, who set out to kill somebody [raises her voice], shit no! It’s like a before and after photo. I lead a good life until … I kind of lost it with drugs and got mixed up in some crime … and now I’m back to who I really am, this woman talking to you today. I tried to be a good mother for my kids, I was back then, and even though I don’t see them, much … I will always be a good mum to them.

Although Bella’s children were removed from her home prior to the murder, she attempted to dismiss this and any other act which challenged her status as a good mother. She passionately discussed how she raised and nurtured her children: “I just got mixed up in drugs; I was trying to cope with awful things at that time, but I always loved my kids.” Bella mentioned that she had minimal contact with her children while incarcerated; however, she believed that she was a good mum and always would be. Arguably, Bella’s emphasis on her identity as a good mother coincides with Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) assertion that being an incompetent mother is the greatest challenge faced by women offenders. Similarly, Ferraro and Moe (2003) claimed that in the struggle to develop positive individuality, good mothering represents the most influential identity. Bella also framed herself as a good daughter. She claimed:

I am a good daughter … my mum and a friend of hers, always tells me that I am good, a good person. I think getting older and having to be in this place … I have become a bit softer of a person, yeah. There are times when I still get angry, but who doesn’t in here [laughs softly], it comes with this place. I will be a better mum, a better daughter after being in here, I know that. In here … it gives you time to think about things, and I’ve calmed down a lot. You have to quickly grow up … a lot in here, this is not paradise.

Bella openly expressed pride in relation to positive personal changes while incarcerated. She acknowledged that there were painful moments in her life; however, ironically it took her incarceration to enable her to regain self-confidence and to disengage in anger and bitterness. She shared:

115

You know that hardness, me being tough, this tough person … I talked about that … what I had, was just like this wall I put up. I was protecting myself. My father and ex were violent and controlling people. I was never able to truly express who I really was or wanted to be. I couldn’t be myself back then.

But what happened in here … yeah recently … I got a couple of piercings [laughs]. In a weird way, it took me to have to come to prison, for me to have time in here, to get back some confidence … it sounds stupid, but that’s what’s happened. This is something I wanted to do for years and just got up the courage to do it, in here of all places to get a piercing!

In analysing how violent offenders construct their identities, Geiger and Fischer (2005) suggested that many will appeal to human strengths and virtues accomplished by framing themselves as being honest and headed in the right direction towards future success. They further distinguished how women offender’s identity construction contains far more accounts of limited self-confidence and evidence of low self-esteem. Bella’s recent body piercings for example, were placed in the context of increased self-confidence and in opposition to previous low self-esteem. Bella also returned to the master narrative of normative femininity via motherhood, by noting that she had plans of becoming an improved woman and was going to be a better mother upon release from prison. “I messed up badly … shit, during that part of my life … but the next part will be good for me and my kids. I’m stronger now … I look forward to it, when I get out of here.”

Similar to the women in Comack and Brickey’s (2007) study, Bella reframed her life experiences and identity through the available discourses and did not frame herself as being helpless but rather acknowledged a conscious choice to violently offend. Bella positioned her violent offending as an act of reparation and as such, she was able to place some distance between the murder and her self-identity.

Bella acknowledged that she would be seen by “others” as a violent person due to her disposition. She denied ever contemplating murder and resisted the label of murderer by explaining that the homicide was an accident. She firmly believed that the prolonged 116 brutality inflicted on the victim was only possible due to her impaired judgment associated with drug intoxication.

As a woman who had suffered numerous hardships throughout her life, Bella positioned herself as being greatly misunderstood and misrepresented. She consistently situated herself within the normative frame of femininity and placed motherhood as her primary frame of reference. Interestingly, she resisted the victim label that correctional counsellors attempted to impose upon her.

4.10 The Court’s Characterisation: The Victim and Offender For all seven women, only their sentencing and available appeal documents were collected through online access. According to an analysis of Robertson-Stainsby’s (2011) courtroom constructions, women who kill are depicted in one of two ways: (a) they are evil and kill to realise personal gain, or (b) they are innocent victims who should be awarded sympathy. By employing narratives to tell legal stories both the prosecution and the defense play a critical role in the way in which violent women are understood.

Morrissey (2003) argued that mainstream legal discourse is dependent upon stock narratives fashioned through the notion that women who kill are either good, mad or bad. In Bella’s case, sentencing documents elaborated on her early victimisation by stating: “… her childhood was seriously dysfunctional.” By reiterating Bella’s own depiction of her childhood, the court alleged:

Between the ages of 10 and 13 she was regularly sexually abused by the 19 year old son of a neighbour, and frequently beaten by her father in what her mother described in evidence as attempts to make the child conform to the ‘old ways’. She left school at the age of 15 when she was so severely beaten by her father, that she was placed into care at the instance of the state.

The court noted that Bella had been placed in a halfway house and “… between the ages of 15 and 17, she had no contact with her mother or father.” In addition, the sentencing document chronicled Bella’s tumultuous and abusive marriage wherein she left the halfway house, worked at McDonalds for over a year and then married: 117

At the age of 18, she married a man who was also of … origin. They lived in … for a period of approximately four years. During this time, she bore him three children. He also beat her and on one occasion so badly that she was admitted to a hospital for the stitching of facial wounds which he had afflicted on her.

The court further stated: “… on another occasion, she spent three months in a psychiatric ward after attempting suicide because of the way he abused her.” In summarising subjective considerations, the court noted: “… one may pity … for the horrendous childhood to which she was subjected and the brutal treatment meted out during her marriage, and for the loss of her children.”

The court’s narrative cited Bella’s victimisations but appeared uncertain of their relevance in her homicide offending: “Each of those things may perhaps also explain the sociopathic proportions of her conduct in the murder.” Bella’s brutality and the fact that she killed a person whom she was not currently in an intimate relationship issued a challenge to the court’s standard victimisation script. Essentially, Bella did not murder an intimate partner within the framework of Walker’s (1984) battered woman syndrome which found the court traversing unfamiliar territory. The victim was a former client which challenged the traditional idea of an intimate relationship. Bella argued: “What I did … well, he was my client; it was just a job to get some money; I was working as a call girl.”

Bella’s long standing drug addiction enabled the court to use pathology to understand her violent offending and this took precedence over her victimisation. The court noted: “In … she was introduced to heroin and rapidly became addicted to that substance” and further acknowledged her failed efforts at recovery: “She tried on at least one occasion to rid herself of her addiction by home detoxification and on another occasion by placing herself under the care of Dr. … a well known specialist in the treatment of drug addiction.”

In essence, the court addressed Bella’s abstinence efforts and then cited her treatment failures: “For some time, she underwent a methadone withdrawal program. But it seems that none of those efforts were effective. At the time of murdering … she was still addicted to heroin and using cocaine and speed.” As a pathology, Bella’s drug addiction was a familiar 118 construct and one in which the court could use in part to understand Bella’s violent offending. The drug addiction pathology resonated more than interpersonal victimisations as the court attempted to define Bella and her homicidal offending.

4.11 The Mad and Bad: More Bad than Mad According to Morrissey (2003), courts and the media rely on victim, mad and bad explanations for women who kill. In this research, Bella received the most graphic representation of being bad. Court speculation that her victim may have endured over four hours of excruciating pain prior to his actual death due to her dismembering assault were a focus in the trial. In Ferraro’s (2006) book: Neither Angels nor Demons, she discussed how women who kill transgress angelic-like characteristics associated with femininity and as a consequence are often cast into evil or monstrous categories. In Bella’s case, the court found her guilty of “… a murder of the most hideous and heinous kind.” In reference to the harm inflicted upon the victim, the judge asserted that: “… was subjected to a vicious and sustained attack, first by kicking him and bashing him, and then with a knife in ways which most civilized human beings could not begin to imagine.” As a result, Bella was cast into the “other” category (see Morrissey, 2003) and distanced from “normal” human beings. The judge concluded by calling the murder an: “… outrageous wrongdoing.”

… [S]he went to Mr. … premises with the intention of using such level of violence as might prove necessary in order to get his money and his valuables. The murder of … whom she knew she could find asleep, alone, and unarmed in his own bed, was premeditated.

The judge’s justification for the initial sentencing read: “It is in my opinion, a sentence for 21 years is at the very lowest end of the range, for this kind of killing, motivated essentially by greed, but involving the brutal and vicious drawn out torture of the victim.” The court acknowledged Bella’s extensive victimisations: “… one may pity … for the horrendous childhood to which she was subjected and the brutal treatment meted out during her marriage.” However, Bella was ultimately portrayed as a greedy drug addict who was bent on revenge. Her behaviour was described by the court as being a “ghastly” and “inhuman” act and while her victimisations and her drug addiction were acknowledged they could not adequately explain the unfeminine characteristics of her violent offending. 119

4.12 Summarisation of Bella Bella’s identity construction begins with the cruel realities of her extensive childhood victimisations and concludes with her struggle to account for a crime depicted as “heinous” and inhuman.” Bella was able to avail herself of a victim discourse identity through her childhood abuse and the intimate partner violence she suffered. However, she chose to minimise the impact of this in favour of an identity as a survivor. This is heard in her disdain of fellow inmates that would clothe themselves in the “abuse excuse.” When asked about the impact of her victimisations, Bella’s standard ploy was to frame how bad things happen to everyone and you just move on.

Bella it seems sought to distance herself from the drug addict identity. Critical to identity formation (see Erikson, 1968; Blumer, 1969) is our perception of how others view us. Bella was determined to ward off any label of drug addict. She did so by contrasting her brief drug use history to the violent young repeat offenders for whom drug addiction and alcoholism is a feature of their lives and has been since adolescence. She further resisted this identity voluntarily completing the prison drug treatment program three times. An addict was a label that Bella would not incorporate into her self-concept.

If the goal of identify formation for women who offend is as Geiger and Fischer (2005) contend as an exercise at establishing a favourable identity, Bella sought to do so through recourse to the normative frame of femininity and her role as a good daughter and mother. Bella spoke of her relationship with her mother that she strives to nurture in spite of the handicap to relationships that incarceration creates. Such attachments to others and relationships are decisive in women’s self-identities who tend to define themselves in relationship to connectivity’s with others (Campbell 1993, Gilligan, 1982; Stern 1990). In addition to her mother’s visits, Bella spoke of friends that would visit and her calls and letters to them. In fact, among the women, Bella demonstrated one of the more expansive networks of ongoing relationships.

The most difficult negative label to negotiate for violent offenders is that of a bad mother (Ferraro & Moe, 2003). In their study of women who violently offended, Comack and Brickey (2007) found that any reference to being an unfit mother was met with strong resistance. Bella chronicled her efforts at being available to her children throughout her 120 domestic violence and in her tireless role as a single mother. This identity served as a master identity (Hughes, 1945) for Bella and as such, she opposed efforts that suggested otherwise.

A further label Bella resisted was that of violent. She countered this identity in several respects. This included her references to how she recognises that the “old Bella” the youth, has emerged now with “the soft and caring side” which she said was lost in her years prior to her offense. She pointed out that none of her previous criminality ever involved a violent act and that her violent offense was influenced by her intoxicated state at the time. Bella also drew distinctions between herself and the young violent repeat offenders. Lastly, she detailed her continued efforts to avoid any violence within the prison.

In summary, Bella’s history is riddled with victimisation, addiction, depression and prostitution. Bella nonetheless prides herself as a survivor and wrestles with her identity as a violent woman who took a life. Her struggle lies in the fact that she cannot embrace the full extent of her offending and does not believe she could have taken a life if she had not been under the influence of drugs. Bella identifies herself as a good mother, daughter, and friend. Relationships are key to understanding Bella. She argued: “Ask the other girls in here and ask my mum and friends who I am … they will tell you I’m a good woman who stuffed up.”

The court depicts Bella more in accordance with her criminality. The brutality of the crime, her drug addiction, prostitution, and previous multiple charges for theft result in a master identity as a criminal. Bella’s child abuse, intimate partner violence and subsequent suicide attempt did foreshadow the identity of a victim and this is reflected in the sentencing judge’s suggestion that “one must pity” Bella in light of these experiences. However, Bella’s failed attempts at drug rehabilitation and repeated drug related crimes cast her as a drug addicted criminal with little potential for change. This sentiment is reflected in the sentencing remarks of the judge: “Any chance of rehabilitation is at best a long term possibility and more probably a forlorn hope.”

4.13 Wendy’s Narrative: A Story of Betrayal Wendy was in her seventies when she killed her husband of the same age. Wendy was charged with murder and plead guilty. She was sentenced to 15 years fixed and a minimum term of 11 ½ years before being eligible for parole. The sentencing documents detailed that 121

Wendy was suspicious of a relationship her former husband had with another woman. It was claimed that Wendy was obsessed with the relationship of her ex-husband and his alleged girlfriend and was concerned that she and her two sons would be excluded from his will. Wendy suffocated and then stabbed to death her ex-husband. The sentencing judge closed with the following remarks: “… the offending here was premeditated and brutal, involving an attack on a sleeping man who as the applicant herself said was “her friend” and being carried out essentially for material gain. The applicant here also went to some lengths to deceive the authorities and to lay a false trail.”

Wendy, the eldest of the women included in my study, was 72 and the mother of two sons when she was sentenced to a maximum of 15 years at the Victorian women’s correctional facility after killing her estranged husband whom she had left 19 years earlier and had been legally separated for 11 years. At the time of the interviews, she was 77 years of age. It is an extremely rare act for a woman in her 70s to commit murder and as a consequence, this phenomenon has not been adequately addressed in the literature.

While there are occasions known as mercy killings when older women murder their chronically ill husbands or partners, Bourget, Gagne, and Whitehurst (2010) found in their study of domestic homicides involving perpetrators 65 years or older that only 3% (or two cases) involved women who killed their male partners. In one case, the victim was terminally ill, and the other case culminated in both murder and suicide (Bourget et al., 2010).

4.14 The Victim Discourse: Thirty Years of Abuse During Wendy’s interviews, her narratives were dominated by alleged victimisation experiences brought on by her deceased husband. She also dwelled upon victimisation at the hands of the police and courts. When unrelated semi-structured questions were introduced, Wendy’s preoccupation gravitated back to her experiences with the criminal justice system and her family.

Following our initial introduction, Wendy chose to share her narrative as it related to her first arrest. She claimed: “You need to know the full story, yes … the full story … for you to have any idea of who I am, and what happened to me … if you want to understand who this woman is … sitting here today.” She further stated: 122

You should know this, it was awful, so awful you know; what they did to me when they came to arrest me. They took me to this bus shelter and sat me in there. It was pouring down rain, pouring heavily, and I only had my slippers on my feet and I can tell from memory that when I got to the police station, they were soaking bloody wet. I was so confused and it seems that’s what they intended, they didn’t care … they wanted me to be confused.

Wendy discussed the drive that night beginning from sitting in the rear seat of a police vehicle as being “frightening, utterly disgusting and disrespectful.” Wendy recalled: “As we were driving along … the one police officer said; ‘Yeah, now that he’s dead, wonder what the house will be worth’? … then they laughed out loud. The bloody cheek of them … the bloody cheek of them!” The conversation of the police officers shifted to what Wendy referred to as being “vulgar.” She continued: “Here we are driving along and they are talking about sex, yes sex … disgusting, it was disgusting … as we passed motels they were talking about which ones would be best for having sex.” Wendy decried the fact and said: “I’m this older woman sitting in the back seat, soaking wet … terribly confused and scared to death … not knowing what was going to happen to me; and I had to listen to this talk, this disgusting behaviour.” While being escorted to police headquarters, it appeared that Wendy’s identity as an elderly woman which she believed warranted respect was overridden by notions of her alleged violent offending.

4.15 Victimised By My Protectors Wendy’s initial opinion of her arrest appeared to set the precedent for the remainder of her criminal proceedings. In recalling her first hours of intense “interrogation” questioning at the police station, she stated:

I was also getting sick at that stage; having to wait around … I was dizzy and had some real stomach pain. I have diverticulitis you see … and by then had diarrhea. I needed my medicine, but they refused to give it to me, even though I was elderly … they damn wouldn’t budge [raises her voice], and they wouldn’t even listen to me.

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In describing the police as simply disinterested in helping her, Wendy continued: “At that stage, I was afraid, I was worried that I was going to have an accident right then and there; and being elderly … that wouldn’t have helped me.” At that moment, Wendy apparently formed an opinion of the criminal justice system based on her first unpleasant encounter with law enforcement that would influence her future interactions with the legal system.

4.16 The Relationship with the Deceased: One of Ambivalence Periodically, Wendy would comment about her relationship with the deceased: “I don’t have a problem talking about our time together … it’s sad, yes, sad that it ended this way” [shakes her head]. While Wendy killed her former husband, the nature of their relationship at the time of the murder was uncertain: however, Wendy implied: “We were friends, yes … he looked after me; he did take care of me, you know.” Although maintaining her own apartment, the court noted that Wendy sometimes stayed at her estranged husband’s home and relied upon him for transportation and other assistance. Due to the scant research pertaining to women who kill their former or estranged spouses, Wendy’s personal relationship with her ex-husband was even more difficult to comprehend. As an example, Johnson and Hotton (2003) reported that women who separated from their partners are less likely to kill when compared to males who separate from their wives.

Wendy’s continued friendship with her former husband and frequent co-habitation is challenged by Wendy’s portrayal of her husband as a perpetrator of domestic violence. Throughout the interviews, she related that the deceased was “a violent husband for 30 years.” She further admitted, however, that the relationship was more amicable during the few years leading up to the murder. Based on her narratives and court records, the nature of their relationship during these years did not suggest the presence of domestic violence.

Despite the nature of Wendy’s relationship with her estranged husband, she could not convince her attorney to allow her to testify in court and reveal that during: “… the 30 years of his abuse I lived through, the case might have gone better for me, more in my favour.” As earlier noted, Wendy repeatedly used the term “domestic violence” as a victimisation defense mechanism that she was familiar with and could draw upon yet never fully elaborated on her experiences.

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Wendy became visibly distressed when she spoke about her legal defense, she claimed: “The solicitor didn’t seem to care that I was slapped and hit all the time, no, didn’t seem to care. I thought that would help me, you know, somehow … by talking about what I went through.” She continued to state that during her marriage, she had to sometimes leave their home and take her two sons to escape from her husband’s violence: “It’s so sad, so very sad, how quickly my boys forget what I did for them … he was a cruel man back then.”

Prior to the introduction of the victim discourse, Heidensohn (1994) asserted that there were limited rationales available to violent women offenders. Now the victim discourse appears to be the most available and comfortable identity for violent women offenders (Comack & Brickey, 2007). While Wendy asserted 30 years of victimisation at the hands of the deceased, she struggled to position the experience as relevant to her homicide offending. She embraced her identity as a victim yet avoided sharing the specific impact this victimisation had upon her life.

4.17 Pathology: They Think I Am Mad, Bloody Mad! The “mad” pathology discourse struck a sensitive chord with Wendy. Wendy rejected her solicitor’s approach in the following manner:

He, well, he started pushing for me to see a bloody psychiatrist … and then of course I would ask why? He would take forever to answer and, all I would get was … nothing, nothing, no definite answer, he was pretty damn confusing.

At this point, she became agitated and raised her voice:

Good Lord, I wasn’t mad, no, as they tried to make me out, I wasn’t bloody mad! I was upset of course at the time; who wouldn’t be … I was just pushed over the edge. But not mad or sick … you know; you know what I mean.

Wendy expressed bewilderment at the insistence for her to see a psychiatrist at the expense of overlooking what she felt was necessary for the court to know. She argued: “It’s like he was ignoring my thoughts and feelings. I wanted to talk about him [the deceased] and what he did 125 to me … he just wanted me to see a psychiatrist. He was going on about me needing help.” When Wendy strongly resisted the notion that she was mad her legal team offered another explanation for her offending – her age:

I was abused for over 30 years, yes, 30 years, that’s a long time … and they just didn’t want to know about it. They started talking about my age you know. Trying to make it seem like my age had something to do with it. I really think they wanted me to come off as this mad old woman … yes, this mad old woman.

Wendy detailed what she perceived as her legal defense team’s unwillingness to incorporate her victimisation into court and was perplexed by their stern refusal to permit her own testimony. She explained:

It’s like they were fixed on this thing … the psychiatrist having to see me; so in the end, I just gave in … really what choice did I have … I reluctantly agreed to see him. But, when I saw what it was going to cost me, I almost changed my mind you know.

The desire to pathologise Wendy can be understood through the work of Worrall (1990) who argued that the defense team’s counsel will resort to domesticity and pathology constructs wherever possible. Wendy’s defense team attempted to position her as an elderly and frail, passive and nurturing mother whose motivation to kill could only be accounted for by mental illness (Worrall, 1990). Ironically, Wendy was one out of five women in this research who had no previous history of mental illness. Therefore, one might argue that her defense team adhered to an observation as identified by Wallace (1986): “People who do not have a history of psychiatric illness or previous convictions for assault, but who nevertheless unlawfully kill another person, must be mentally disturbed because their crime is so uncharacteristic” (p. 47).

When asked to describe herself today, Wendy said:

This place has made me somewhat stronger you know, yes, tougher … but I am older and today very sad, very sad about a lot of things. In here you have 126

plenty of time yes, to think about things. I worry about … well, if I am ever going to leave this place alive.

Out of the seven women in my study, Wendy relied least on the status of being a good mother and a good woman, she indicated:

I was and am today, been a good mum to my boys. Sadly, one of them tells my grandchild that I live up north; I’m supposed to be taking a long holiday. It breaks my heart you know. I am their mum and never did anything to hurt them, just protect them.

Wendy elaborated on what she termed her son’s betrayal. In her persistence to have her victimisation brought to the forefront of her case, she assumed that her two sons would support her. However, she was informed by her solicitor: “… your sons are not going to back you up on the domestic violence.” She agreed that this saddened her and claimed:

He told me that they made statements to the police and that they didn’t back up my story. I was crushed, so very crushed, really devastated … I don’t think I will ever get over that. I was always there for my sons and I protected them, I protected them … I just felt awful. You asked me who I am now, a mum and grandma … and a sad one at that. This shouldn’t have happened you know.

Wendy shared that her solicitor had no sooner informed her of her sons’ betrayals when he announced that her sister from England was being flown to Australia to testify on the prosecution’s behalf. She stated: “I felt just awful … hearing about my sister, hearing what they were doing … it made me sick, it made me sick to my stomach.” Arguably, having her own flesh and blood fail to speak well on her behalf during the trial was a blatant insult to her identity as a good mother and sister.

Wendy’s identification as a victim was challenged and minimised by her own sons and sister. In essence, her description of the “betrayal” by her family cast a dark shadow on her identity as a good woman and mother. During this segment of the conversation, Wendy attempted to distance herself from her sister: “I haven’t seen her in 15 years you know; and she has never 127 been here, what does she know; what does she have to offer them?” Wendy expressed her amazement that the court would absorb the effort and cost of bringing her sister to “testify against me.” Wendy admitted she was fearful of what her estranged sister might say. Wendy was thus positioned with an uncomplimentary and deviant status and faced with the challenge of creating an acceptable identity. If her victimisation defense was questioned and she rejected any references to pathology, the available discourses for explaining her committing murder were limited.

Like Bella, Wendy considered herself to be a non-violent woman with the homicide as a “one off.” Violent women offenders often position themselves as non-violent. Wendy did not recognise herself as being a violent woman, she argued:

I had to stand up for myself and protect my kids back then … but that was it, you know, that was it … I didn’t mean for this to happen, no, I didn’t … I just reached a tipping point. I must have been angry for sure, but it was only a “one off.”

In research conducted by Kruttschnitt and Carbone-Lopez (2006), they attempted to understand the identity construction of violent women offenders by interviewing both victims and offenders in crimes of violence. One of their findings suggested that women violently offend when their faithful partner status was challenged.

In the case of Wendy, her narrative reflected rage due to her husband’s alleged infidelity. She claimed: “I was angry with him at the time, yes … but I put up with his abuse for 30 years and then he goes and cheats on me, he cheats on me!” Even though separated for many years, Wendy positioned her estranged husband’s unfaithfulness as being disrespectful to her faithful partner status and mother to his children. She stressed: “How could he, you know, you don’t do those things, he has sons you know, I gave him two sons.” In my study, motives are not examined; nonetheless, Kruttschnitt and Carbone-Lopez’s (2006) often cited rationales for women’s violent offending as a perceived disregard or a sense of humiliation in relation to a partner’s infidelity.

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4.18 Wendy’s Reflection on Her Life and Identity Throughout my interviews, it appeared that Wendy’s primary identification was with the victim discourse. Specifically, her victimisation encompassed the physical and emotional abuse suffered at the hands of her victim as well as at that of the court and mass media. Wendy spoke of how she would never be able to shed the media label assigned to her as the murdering grandmother: “It was awful you know … they called me the murdering granny, why, what has that got to do with anything? The media kept talking about that … throwing it up in my face, it was not right.” Wendy maintained that she was victimised by the media’s biased representation: “I felt like their first case, ever, of a grandmother who murdered, and I don’t think I stood a chance … I didn’t get a fair trial, no, not once, because of the media, all the slander.”

Wendy seemingly embraced the victim discourse and identified herself as a traditional woman and mother who experienced abuse and was severely traumatised. The victim discourse accessed via battered woman syndrome seeks to gather public sympathy and recognition of the severe psychological distress that prolonged abuse causes. Victimisation defined Wendy’s life and she adopted that identity as an explanation for her extreme behaviour. Conversely, she never communicated anything regarding her childhood and adolescence, employment, or in relation to her extended family. Basically, her narratives resonated with the victim discourse and little else.

Ironically, the pathology Wendy so strongly resisted became a reality in her life: “I was in medical once … right after I got here and they were worried about my depression. I was having these nightmares … I couldn’t sleep and a couple of times I thought about killing myself.” Wendy further elaborated on her psychiatric hospitalisations and psychotropic medications:

I’ve had to go to the psychiatric hospital at times, yes, just to get away from what goes on in here. It can make you crazy, real crazy … you know, being in here with all the other girls. They fight and scream … it’s dreadful, just dreadful. It gets to you, it really does.

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In short, Wendy defined herself as an elderly, tired, and lonely woman buying time until her release. She claims: “I am not sure if I will make it out of here you know, I have to stay until I am at least 85. It can get to you emotionally, you know, spending time in here. You get tired of it, you find yourself questioning “why me?” After taking a deep breath, she sighed and said:

It’s a hell of a lonely place, nothing really changes here; they come and go. I don’t think sitting here today, it really changes you, you know. I’m the same woman that came in here … I will be the same woman when I leave. You get time to think and toughen up a bit; you have to, to survive in here. I keep my head down. Maybe some of them take pity on me, you know because I’m not as young as them, I’m a lot older than most in here, I’m probably the oldest.

4.19 The Feeling of Remorse In speaking of the lingering sorrow due to her offense, Wendy commented: “Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what I did … it was wrong, wrong, but I can’t change it now.” Although Wendy openly acknowledged her offense, she did not, however, assume responsibility but rather blamed the incident on her irrational state of mind. She asserts: “When it happened, I just lost control, I wasn’t thinking straight. I can’t really explain it; it just happened, it just happened, it’s all very confusing.” Thus, one may argue that Wendy’s self-identity in relation to her violent offending is as irrational and pathological rather than as a responsible agent.

4.20 The Court Narrative: Once His Victim, Then His Friend The court argued that Wendy’s offending was not expressive but rather instrumental. It was purposeful and planned. The court did recognise that Wendy had endured many years of victimisation throughout her married life:

It seems that it was not long after their marriage that the deceased’s violence towards the … commenced and continued until the couple separated. The evidence by the eldest son was that the deceased was often goaded by … and pushed to the limit. He would lose his temper and strike his wife. The 130

evidence of both sons made it apparent that the deceased’s verbal and physical abuse of … was a common feature of their married life.

The court’s transcript detailed how Wendy took her eldest son and left home only to later return to the deceased’s home and again become reunited. The court defined the next few years as difficult in light of the continued abuse and determined that Wendy: “… suffered from the deceased’s violent physical abuse and was forced from time to time to have recourses to refuges. In … the couple legally separated.” Although the court acknowledged the abusiveness of Wendy’s estranged husband, the disconnection occurred in consideration of the years prior to Wendy’s offending and the nature of her continued relationship with the deceased:

Notwithstanding the deceased’s previous violent conduct towards her … maintained what seems to have been an amicable relationship with the deceased, often staying overnight at his home, sometimes up to four nights per week, albeit in a separate bedroom.

Further evidence was submitted to the police at Wendy’s initial questioning, she claims: “He was my friend, yes, he was and he helped me a lot. He took me to the doctors and he took me to all my appointments. He was my friend, to the very end.”

Apparently, the court was satisfied that Wendy had been subjected to abuse by her estranged husband but it occurred many years prior to the homicide offense, with Wendy and her estranged husband enjoying an “amicable” relationship the few years prior to the murder. Wendy’s argument for killing in response to intimate partner violence was placed in doubt by the court. Although scant literature is available regarding women who kill their abusive partners several years after suffering abuse, Brookman (2005) identified Wendy’s scenario as an intimate partner homicide since for Brookman (2005) the deceased can be a current or former sexual intimate.

The court accessed psychological and psychiatric evaluations of Wendy as a possible rationale for her homicide offending (Carlen & Worrall, 1987). The court determined that Wendy had become increasingly depressed and anxious since her arrest, however, there was 131 no indication of mental illness to explain her homicidal act. In consideration of Wendy’s age and the prospect of dementia, she was given a mental status examination upon her arrival at the prison and “scored 30 points out of 30 points” which also cast doubt on any dementia- related aspects to her offending.

4.21 Agency: The Jealousy and Greed Casting aside victimisation as an explanation and deferring notions of pathology, the court pursued volition or willingness on the part of Wendy thus identifying a motive to suspect that she acted with intent: “… found out that the deceased had formed a relationship with another woman, but that ended in … the applicant was unaware of the relationship ending and believed or suspected that it was ongoing.”

The court’s sentencing document framed and detailed a series of “lies” that Wendy had presented: “ … her fear was that the deceased was about to cut her and her sons out of his will in favour of … [former girlfriend].” To support this assertion, the deceased’s cheque book and will were found in Wendy’s possession following the murder. The court therefore established a motive of material gain and shifted attention to the evil discourse in explaining the violent act: “The offending was brutal and involved an attack on a sleeping man.” The court further described the victim’s suffocation and repeated stabbings.

Similar to Ajzenstadt’s (2009) study, where it was found that women can violently offend as active agents with specific goals that include jealousy and financial gain, Wendy was portrayed as an elderly woman who committed a brutal murder for her own selfish monetary gain. One might argue that this was an atypical homicide case due to Wendy’s amicable and dependent relationship with her victim which eventually led to his murder. While the court explored the discourses of victimisation and pathology, her agency prevailed when these discourses could neither account for nor explain her violent offending behaviour.

Although the court depicted Wendy as an abused woman and may have appeared to be sympathetic toward her plight, this did not excuse or explain her homicide. In short, the court ruled that her estranged husband’s alleged affair and the prospects of his girlfriend receiving the proceeds that Wendy believed rightfully belonged to her and their sons were considered to be a case of pathological jealousy and entitlement. According to the court, Wendy 132 purposely and willingly killed. Whereas the prosecution sought to portray Wendy as a jealous and self-seeking woman, the defense depicted her as a good woman who had never been in trouble and a mother who protected her children. Both arguments followed the stock courtroom scripts (Morrissey, 2003). At the time of her sentencing, the court framed Wendy as a past victim who was rational and chose to kill in a brutal fashion.

4.22 Summarisation of Wendy Wendy framed herself as a victim while married. Currently serving her prison sentence, she still identifies as a good mother both past and present even though her sons seldom communicate with her and her grandchildren never visit. However, her assumed identity is met with unexpected challenges. For example, the court did not equate her previous victimisation with the brutal homicide she perpetrated. Apparently, Wendy’s sons and sister sought to strip her of this identity which continues to chip away at her sorrow. She comments: “They hurt me, it’s so upsetting, and it still hurts me … I am their mother, her sister, I was always there … and I can’t understand why they would do such a thing, I just can’t understand it.”

In Alarid and Vega’s (2010) study, they contended that a woman offender can resist stigmatising labels if they have sufficient positive social relationships. At the time of this research it appeared that Wendy had no significant remaining family or social relationships from which to draw.

In conclusion, Wendy attempted to reconcile her criminality as an irrational act and the greatest regret of her life. Still, she resisted any notion that she was a violent woman by portraying herself as someone who lived for her two children, endured decades of abuse in order to keep the family together, and had never engaged in previous criminal activity. Similar to the women participants in Comack and Brickey’s study (2007, p. 25), Wendy was also ready and willing to discuss her experiences of victimisation, but was more hesitant when it came to disclosing her own act of violence.”

4.23 Lil: The Nurturer Lil was 41 years old when she killed her stepfather. As a single woman who had never married, she had enjoyed a successful career in the hospitality industry, had a close 133 relationship with her sister, and assumed most of the responsibility for her frail and housebound mother’s care and support until her death. At the onset, it was alleged that there was a longstanding history of contention between Lil and the deceased dating back to Lil’s childhood when her mother deserted the family to go and live with the deceased. A year or so prior to her committing murder, Lil began treatment for depression and it was also alleged that excessive drinking also became a personal problem at that time.

Lil had minimal contact with her mother growing up, however, later in life she re-established a relationship when her mother developed a chronic illness and required medical treatment and home care. Lil claimed that during her visits to her mother’s home, when she was ill, her step-father would emotionally harass her and attempt to sexually assault her. Lil shared that she feared he would not leave her or her younger sister alone, she believed his harassment would “never end.”

The prosecution presented evidence that Lil drove to the deceased’s home with intention to kill the victim. She killed the victim by beating him numerous times on the head with a brick. Lil maintained she was under the influence of alcohol and has since had bouts of amnesia in relation to the murder. She was found guilty of murder and sentenced to 15 years with a non-parole period of 10 years. Lil was found guilty with the intention to cause serious injury and it was maintained that she did not act out of self-defense. The judge concluded: “There is not sufficient basis for a finding that the killing of the deceased was premeditative… . I sentence you on the basis that it was not.”

4.23.1 I Cared for the Women in My Family In this research, the frame of normative femininity has thus far been on mothering and domesticity in relation to the wife’s role. The capacity and expectation for a woman’s caregiving of her elderly parents is identified across various cultures. In order to understand the master identity construction of incarcerated women, Alarid and Vega (2010) further found that being a mother, wife, sister, or daughter exerted the most influence over a woman’s framing of her identity. For Lil, the identity as a good daughter and care giver dominated her self-identity.

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As noted, Lil had enjoyed her work in the hospitality industry however; she seldom spoke about her career. Apparently, her vocation was not fundamental to framing her identity. In Alarid and Vega’s (2010) study, 65% of the incarcerated women identified themselves with a familial relationship (i.e., mother, daughter or wife), whereas only 10% identified work as being their most important role identity. Throughout the interviews, Lil focused on being the good daughter, the good sister and the family care giver. She claimed:

At one time, I had to look after my dying grandmother. It was a tough thing to watch her die … and then I took care of my mother until she died. I think being single, I think it just kind of falls back to you to look after your family. That’s how it felt for me. It takes a lot out of you … but I believe it’s just what you have to do … as a daughter.

Lil was very protective of her caregiver status and became angered if her motives for helping her family were questioned: “Some said I was this gold digger, just waiting for my mum to die to get everything. I had nothing to gain, no house, no money; it was all his, I was never getting anything … I knew that.”

4.24 Victimisation: Fearful It Would Never Stop Although researchers (Batchelor, 2005; Silbert & Pines, 1981; Widom, 2000b) have well established the relationship between homicide offending by girls and women who have suffered from physical or sexual child abuse, Lil denied any such connection. Instead, she spoke of early neglect by her mother and an ongoing emotional abuse by her victim. She shared:

I was about 13 when my mum left the family to be with him. That really hurt us … we felt abandoned by her … he was so mean to us … I didn’t see my mother for some years later. I don’t think he allowed her to see us.

Lil argued: “He was an awful man; he came into my life later on … and would threaten me and my sister. He’d call us names, continued to threaten us.” From the time her mother left and when Lil later re-established a relationship with her mother, she continued to share the social impact brought on by her mother’s desertion. Lil claimed: 135

When you’re a young girl and your mum leaves, you think you must be the problem … you’ve done something wrong. Maybe I wasn’t a good enough kid or something. You always have this hope that she would come back … she’ll come back and the family will be together again … that’s what we hoped for, my sister and me. It didn’t happen until it was too late for mum, it was too late.

I was so, gosh, so embarrassed at times … that I didn’t have a mum at home, waiting for me when I got home. I felt at that time … I couldn’t talk to my friends or anyone other than my sister about this. I tried to keep it all a secret. I didn’t want anyone to know that I didn’t have a mum waiting for me at home; I just wanted … as a little girl, my mum to be there and love me.

During this discussion, Lil became teary eyed and agreed: “This is still emotional for me to think about it, having to talk about it all these years later … just give me a minute.”

Although difficult to gauge the full impact upon Lil’s later identity formation, her questioning as to whether she was in some way responsible for her mother’s desertion appears to have heavily weighed upon her mind: “We used to blame ourselves for mum leaving us behind.” Possibly, Lil’s perception that she was not a good enough daughter culminated in her determination to overcome this identity through caring for her dying grandmother and mother.

In her narratives, she described how years prior to committing murder, she basically placed her life on hold in order to care for her mother. However, with the increased involvement in her mother’s life came increased interactions with her victim. According to Lil, caring for her mother was extremely challenging: “I had to put up with this … emotional abuse and he’d at times try and hit into me … and later on he’d make all these sexual advancements at me. It was terrible.” She continued: “As we got older, he started to stalk me and my sister … he’d come to where we lived and harass us.”

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Lil’s victim identity was rooted in years of physical and emotional abuse, stalking and harassment. Lil also made reference to sexual advances by her stepfather within the last four years of her mother’s life. She commented:

He would yell at me and threaten me if I phoned my mother or if I attempted to visit her. He would swear and get right in my face … he just wanted us to stay away while mum was getting worse, it was horrible … but I had no choice because I know he wasn’t taking good care of her.

Lil described how she was subjected to several years of harassment: “He would call me and my sister dozens of times a day to harass us. The worst thing was when he would show up at my house.” Lil also conveyed how her stepfather would arrive at her home in the early hours of the morning: “It was like an hour or two before I needed to get up for work … and he would be banging on my door and calling out my name. He wouldn’t let up … until I got up.” Lil admitted that her stepfather knew how fearful and upset this made her: “What was I to do about it? He was my stepfather, mum was under his control, she was very sick … and I constantly worried what he might do to mum.”

Lil relayed an incident of physical abuse wherein she felt entrapped. She claimed:

One time my mum was having trouble breathing, she was coughing and being sick … and here he was … yeah, chain smoking in her bedroom. I got on to him about the smoking and he punched me a couple of times in the face.

At her sister’s urging, Lil reported this incident to the police although she feared that her mother would suffer the repercussions. Lil added that on some occasions while visiting her mother, the deceased would inappropriately touch or grab her which she tried to ignore. Following her mother’s death, Lil concluded that her stepfather’s harassment would continue: “I had this thought, this gut feeling … that he was never going to leave us alone.”

The 1995-2000 England and Wales Homicide Index reports the smallest victim group of who women kill consists of (2%) parents or step-parents. As defined by Brookman (2005) and Davies (2008), “parricide” is a term used to describe the murder of a parent or another close 137 relative. However, one might argue that Lil’s stepfather would not fit the criteria for a “close relative,” and that Lil’s homicide better approximates an acquaintance homicide. The temptation is to frame Lil’s case as a confrontational killing despite the fact that feminist criminologists have not sufficiently addressed this specific, yet small group of women who kill an acquaintance.

4.25 Rational, Irrational: Beat Someone on the Head with a Brick As much as Lil suffered from abuse brought on by her stepfather, she argued that she was most victimised by her own pathologies: “What happened back then … you have to be crazy to fracture someone’s skull with a building brick, that’s not normal is it … it’s not, God, rational.” The following discussion relative to Lil’s homicide highlights her history of depression, alcohol abuse, and to a lesser extent, amnesia, accompanied by a struggle with extensive treatment involving mental illness.

4.25.1 Substance Abuse, Amnesia, and Drinking As previously discussed, drug-related substance abuse has been found to be prevalent within the histories of women who kill (Steadman et al., 1998). But the relationship between substance abuse and women who kill has focused primarily on alcohol. In such circumstances, the challenge for the offender as well as the court rests in gauging how “under the influence” contributes to the actual commission of a violent offense.

According to Lil, she verified that she was under the influence of alcohol at the time of committing murder: “I know I’d had a few drinks that day, more than what I should have … at the time.” She continued to explain the details concerning the year following her mother’s death which lead to the killing. She reminded me:

You know at that time, I just couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t sleep. It would take several drinks to put me down at night. I was really … I was so distraught when she died that I used the booze to just numb myself, I guess, to ease some pain.

However, Lil rejected being labelled as an alcohol abuser or alcoholic. She argued:

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I never drank like that before. I was never in trouble with the law before, no, never had a record. I think I just turned to the booze kind of like a pill, ease the pain and who knows; maybe help me, help me forget.

Like Bella, Lil also separated herself from the young repeat offenders who have drug and alcohol addictions by claiming:

The young girls in here, most of them drink and use drugs … well, most of them do anyway. You hear them talk about it all the time. Some of them are pretty violent at times … and I think, I don’t know, but many of the problems are from some sort of addiction, maybe drugs, taking drugs or drinking.

Although Lil recognised that she drank for relief and for the wrong reasons, she denied that she had a problem in her understanding concerning alcohol abuse: “I don’t think I have a real drinking problem, like an alcoholic, no I don’t have that … it just got out of hand, looking back, I know that now.”

Lil could not completely detach herself from the role of alcohol in her violent offending. For example, she wondered how much her drinking may have contributed to committing murder. Cited in the court was evidence that she had been drinking the day of her offense; however, exactly how much alcohol and how it impaired her judgment could not be assessed. Although Lil believed the crime was irrational, she also believed it was out of her character. She asserted: “That’s not really me, no … I’m not normally like that, no, not at all.” Similar to Bella, Lil questioned whether she would have committed murder had she not been under the influence of alcohol, an essential ambivalence to recognise. In other words, if alcohol impairment was significant, would it remove some or perhaps all responsibility for her violent offending and thus allow her to further distance herself from the identity of a violent woman (Worrall, 1990)?

Subsequently, Felson and Staff (2010) found that alcohol intoxicated offenders were more likely to engage in homicide and assault than robbery, and alcohol played a much greater role in dispute-related violence, a finding that runs parallel to Lil’s behaviour when she was intoxicated and committed murder. Notably, the court acknowledged that Lil drove to the 139 victim’s home in order to confront him: “It wasn’t like I was going over there to hurt him … I wanted to warn him … I wanted him to back off, just leave us alone.” Felson and Staff (2010) contend that there is less fear associated with a potential confrontation when one is under the influence of alcohol.

Lil positioned herself as suffering from co-occurring depression and alcohol abuse. Lil believed her overindulgence of drinking was a symptom of her depression. For example, leading to her mother’s death and the year following her death, Lil was acutely depressed in her everyday life: “Yeah, the death of my mother tipped me over … I was grief stricken, it was a pretty rough time for me.” Lil recalled her lethargy and withdrawal from interacting and socialising with family members:

I am really close with my aunty and sister … and with my depression, the bouts of my depression; I would have to make myself visit them, I really struggled. But, once I got there, I wanted to leave, within minutes of getting there … be alone, and sleep, sleep my time away … it’s difficult to explain this … it’s hard to describe it … I hated feeling this way.

Feminist as well as mainstream criminologists recognise the prevalence of depression among women who kill (Chan, 2005; O’Keefe, 1998; Putkonen et al., 2007). More specifically, Hoffman et al., (1998) found that 29% of the violent women in their Canadian sample had histories of depression.

In further reflecting about “bouts of depression,” Lil spoke of several stressors:

It’s like, my mum dies, then I have this bad breakup with a guy, and next you know my cat dies. When I think back, having the burden of having to care for mum … don’t get me wrong, I loved my mum, but with these others things happening, you know, going on around me at that time … it was tough to handle, it sent me off into this some kind of depression.

Although Lil admitted that she recognised her state of depression was frightening and negatively impacted her life and relationships following her mother’s death, she stated: “I had 140 some good health insurance and eventually got some help from a psychologist. I was seeing … about once a week, for a while.” Lil also mentioned that her psychologist realised the counselling sessions were of some benefit; nevertheless, she remained chronically depressed. As a result, Lil was advised to seek a psychiatrist who might consider anti-depressant medication. She commented:

Yeah, later I was seeing this psychiatrist like every two weeks for medication. I’m not sure if the medications were really helping … considering I was probably drinking about five litres of wine every couple of days. I think looking back now, that I just wanted to forget about things, I almost gave up … come to think of it.

Lil was one of two women in this research who claimed partial amnesia in relation to her homicide act. Interestingly, claims of amnesia are frequently associated with violence perpetrated by women (Evans, 2006) although there is an extreme paucity of research regarding this phenomenon (Hakkanen, Weizmann-Henelius, Putkonen & Laurema, 2008). Lil also elaborated on the frustration of having “missing pieces” of her offense and was especially upset with the prosecution’s determination to deny her amnesia plea.

In Hakkanen et al., (2008) study of Finnish men and women who kill, they found that nearly one-half of the women could not recall various details regarding their offenses. In sum, they suggested that some women may have developed amnesia as a defense mechanism to ward off subsequent shame and guilt and further implied that they may have employed more rationalisations and excuses than men in an effort to distance themselves from a crime perceived to counter the “good woman” construct. Lil argued:

It’s hard to remember exactly what happened to me … what I did; it’s all confusing thinking back. As I said before, I was never violent, I’m not violent, it’s not something a woman would just go out and do … do on purpose … I mean, it’s not in my character … I can’t remember really what happened … except I must have blacked out sometime.

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Lil best captured her victimisation by claiming:

I was depressed; I was really depressed and drinking and not in my right mind you know. You don’t do what I did, go out and just kill a man with a brick, really, if you are in your right mind. I’m not like that; I’ve always been the one who cared for my family.

In particular, Lil’s depression would place her within Worrall’s (1990) construct of a good woman with a disease. As previously mentioned, Lil distanced herself from an alcohol abuse problem. Her narrative suggested that such an identity would run counter to her master status as a nurturing care giver: “I was the one in the family who looked after them … I was there for them, they depended on me to be there.”

On the other hand, Lil sought to position alcohol use as a symptom of her depression: “If it wasn’t for me being depressed, having all those things happen to me, maybe I wouldn’t have turned to drink, maybe.” According to Alarid and Vega (2010), women with drug abuse histories are more likely to relate, in part, with an offender identity due to society’s perception of drug use and criminality. Although residing outside the boundaries of normative femininity, alcohol abuse does not carry the stigma of drug abuse as realised by Bella, and so Lil was able to claim the status of victim more readily.

4.26 Victim Offender: I Guess I Am Both In suggesting that women who commit murder sometimes consider themselves to be a victim, an offender, or possibly both, Lil was asked to discuss what she thought of this general supposition. Without hesitation, she responded:

For some of the girls in here, it’s probably not an easy one to answer … but, he didn’t deserve to die. I know that, he didn’t deserve to die … what I did was wrong. Nobody deserves to have their skull fractured. I feel really sorry for him, I feel really sorry for him. Thinking back … I can’t imagine the pain he must have suffered. I feel so sorry for his children and grandchildren. His grandchildren will never know their grandfather.

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While Lil continued to frame herself as an offender she also continually revisited her past victimisations through her stepfather’s relentless harassment:

I know I hurt people, I know people call me a criminal all the time, I know I did wrong, that’s why I’m sitting here now … you could call me an offender, when you talk about it like this, I suppose.

There was so much more I could have said in court about my mother’s bruises and how he used to hit me. He was just really mean and he hardly got along with anyone in his family. He just preyed on me and my sister and I kept thinking that this will never end.

In Flemke’s (2009) study consisting of 37 incarcerated women who engaged in domestic violence, rage was identified as a trigger which revealed that past memories of abusive experiences surfaced in the midst of arguments and served to further inflame the situation. In Lil’s case, she ruminated that she was haunted with the prospect of her stepfather’s abuse towards her and her sister as never ending: “It became almost like an obsession … thinking about him and what he did to us; it was hard, really hard, to get it out of my mind.” Lil was the self-appointed protector for her sister and was always “there for her.” Although still unclear, Lil suspected she may have gone to her stepfather’s home to confront him. She commented:

It bothers me, yeah, it really bothers me … not being able to completely remember, to really remember … but over the years, some of the pieces of what happened have come back to me. I wonder about it … with the drinking and all, what really happened. I know I killed him and I had to get there, I know that much. Maybe you can put it down to, to bottling it all up, and you know having some drink, well that probably made me explode out of anger. I can’t explain exactly why, but it just happened.

Arguably, Lil’s conceptualisation of her offending lies somewhere between the discourses of pathologisation and agency. While she acknowledged that she “may have” planned her offending, she also claimed that her drinking and amnesia influenced her violent behaviour 143 on that day. Lil claimed that a conscious choice to offend could have been made but it was not well thought out and was further influenced by her alcohol impairment and perhaps her persistent rage toward the victim.

Like the other women in this research, Lil appeared to be most influenced by the framework of normative femininity. She repeatedly spoke about being the caregiver for her grandmother, her mum, her auntie and on occasions her sister. She acknowledged that this was her life responsibility: “My role was always to help … the women in my family.”

When Lil was asked to describe who she believed she was prior to committing murder and who she is today, she replied without hesitation:

I have to say I am a good woman, I always was … back then … it was me who cared for my family and looked out for them. We are a family of women you know, we stuck together. If I didn’t do it, who would? Even growing up, when mum walked out, it hurt us, I had to be strong … but I cared, I still cared about us, about mum and us. I’m not this bad woman that some may think … I never was. I was a loving, kind girl growing up. I loved life and loved people, and most important to me was my family. I think I had back then … and ask them in here, now, I have a kind heart. I’m not perfect, gosh who is? [laughs softly].

In discussing her current identity, she responded:

And, you want to know who I am now … well, I’ll tell you; it’s not that hard to answer. I know I have had time to chill, to think about some things in here, some that I am not proud of, but you know … I keep my mind pretty busy in here. I did something terrible I know, and I feel terribly sad about it, but I’m a good woman who put my life on hold to take care of the one’s I love, I protected them the best I could.

This place makes you tough, tough on the outside, as you have to be … to protect what’s yours, to protect your privacy. You’ve got to stand up for 144

yourself in here, but that’s not a bad thing, you know. It doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person for doing it. I don’t think the real me has changed by being in here, who I was before … is really who I am today. I know a lot more things I keep quiet now, I’m not as chatty as I was out there, but that’s for your own protection.

I’m still a good woman, I’m kind … I’m someone who wants to get home and go on with my life again. I don’t drink of course, that sure has changed being in here. I don’t think I will ever drink again. I am a happy-go-lucky person … after all of this, I want to go home, go somewhere peaceful, be left alone and be with my family … my aunty and see my sister.

Like Bella and Wendy, Lil distanced herself from the young repeat offenders alluded to as being violent and uncaring: “The younger girls in here, they should be taught some sort of a lesson … they fight a lot; you should hear them at night … it gets pretty out of hand … it can get nasty and violent.”

In light of Lil’s desertion by her mother as a child and the ongoing abuse by her stepfather, she embraced the victim identity. She also acknowledged that her depression and alcoholism, while a crucial part of her identity at the time of her offences and linked to her victimisation status, were no longer issues that impacted her self-identity. She continued to portray herself as a kind and loving daughter and sister and struggled to accept the label of a violent offender.

4.27 Court Narrative: A Good Woman with an Illness In a study involving Australian women who murdered, Robertson-Stainsby (2011) claimed that court narratives can tell whole stories. The primary courtroom storytellers include the prosecution, judge, and the defense. The judge’s description of Lil was sympathetically aligned with a woman who espoused the qualities of normative femininity:

For many years, you had a good relationship with a young man. Ultimately, he saw his future in Europe and you saw yours in Australia and the two of you 145

broke up. Your return to … was at least in part directed to the caring for your mother.

The judge referenced Lil’s initiative at re-establishing the relationship with her mother and further noted her support and efforts on behalf of her aunt and sister. His narratives of nurturance and caregiving as well as the importance of her family relationships all speak to a good woman within the normative frame of femininity.

Relying on a medical-legal expert, Lil’s defense appealed to her abusive victimisation experiences and her pathologisation. After records from Lil’s private psychiatrist and psychologist were submitted, her defense team solicited further court appointed psychological and psychiatric reports. Briefly, the defense sought to hone in on diminished responsibility from two angles, her history of dissociative behaviours and her drinking problem:

An examining psychiatrist then recorded a history of two weeks of symptoms including out of body experiences and memory lapses. She told Dr. … [court appointed psychiatrist] she had been experiencing blackouts every few weeks from the start of … and he reported that both Dr. … and Ms. … in their reports support this. Dr. … [court appointed psychiatrist] considered there was a strong likelihood that the applicant’s heavy consumption of alcohol contributed to her memory impairment, but that it was eminently possible that it also constituted a degree of dissociative amnesia which he said was a defensive psychological response by an individual to cope with what otherwise might be overwhelmingly traumatic or stressful experiences.

The defense framed Lil as a distraught woman who struggled with her demons of alcohol, depression, and past abuses. In contrast, the prosecution characterised Lil as a liar who malingered and feigned amnesia. However, evidence pertaining to her depression and drinking were not challenged in seeking to establish intent or willingness:

You can understand people forgetting little things, you can understand people forgetting an episode that takes a few seconds, but to forget all of this, in my 146

submission, you just cannot believe that. How easy is it to be able to say, knowing that she has been there, knowing that she killed Mr. … knowing that she’s done it by picking a brick up and hitting him at least twice on the head, hard with it, knowing that she’s done all these things, why forget, why does she forget?

The prosecutor proceeded to refer to Lil as “a liar” and argued that she conveniently developed a case of “the forgets.”

4.27.1 Summary of Court Narrative Three stories were told, each of which attempted to characterise Lil. First, the judge’s sentencing remarks were intended to depict her as a nurturing person within the framework of normative femininity. Second, the defense portrayed Lil as a good woman with a disease, emphasising her substance abuse and depression and offering her a victimised position through her pathologisation. Third, the prosecution could not deny Lil’s relentless efforts at caregiving and her mental illness in relation to depression and alcohol abuse. However, they challenged her amnesia and contended that Lil exercised agency in her offending. In analysing the three narratives, the jury decided that despite the strength of the victimisation and pathologisation stories, Lil made a choice to violently offend. As a result of this sympathetic depiction by the court, Lil received the most lenient sentence among the seven women.

4.28 Summarisation of Lil Lil’s primary identification remained with her care giving and protector roles, she claimed: “We are a family of women and he was never going to leave us alone.” She understood her role and placed the needs of her family above her own. This enabled her to engage - arguing that the subtlety and chronicity of the abuse she endured was an underlying factor for her depression.

On the other hand, Lil strongly resisted any framing of herself as an abuser of alcohol or as an alcoholic even though her drinking problem was well documented. She positioned her drinking as a secondary issue in her identity construction. Possibly, Lil’s adherence to the ideal of a loving and kind daughter allowed for depression in her grief at the loss of her 147 mother but could not accommodate the label of alcohol abuser. Lil embraced the offender identity and acknowledged that the homicide she committed was an extreme act of violence. It can be argued, however, that she attempted to neutralise the violent offender label with her references to amnesia and intoxication. Lil nevertheless identifies as a good woman who is incapable of violence despite her behaviour toward the victim.

4.29 Sarah: Child and Woman 4.29.1 Victimisation: He Controlled My Life Sarah was 19 years old when she murdered a 15 year old female acquaintance. Sarah plead guilty to the charge of murder. She was convicted of murder and sentenced to 20 years with a non-parole period of 14 years and six months. The victim was a family acquaintance that Sarah had at one stage baby sat. The court hearing relied heavily upon expert testimony regarding Sarah’s mental state with Sarah’s pleas of partial amnesia and ruling out significant psychopathology specifically addressed. The judge concluded that Sarah’s diary entries reflected: “… an abnormal, almost obsessional interest by her in the deceased. I am satisfied you had encompassed her death in your thoughts for a substantial period of time before you finally moved against her.”

Sarah grew up in a home that both she and the court described as troubled. Allegedly, her father was a controlling and emotionally abusive man, and her mother was chronically depressed and detached which lead Sarah to struggle socially, emotionally, and educationally as both a child and a teen. Notably, her educational difficulties were not academically related as evidenced by reports indicating that she was above average intelligence. However, she bullied other classmates and was often truant from school. Although Sarah had moved into her own apartment and was working in a clerical position at the time of the murder, her father still allegedly exercised considerable control over her life.

Although her identity was strongly lodged in victimisation, she never reported any physical or sexual abuse within her narratives. Contrary to court records that alluded to possible physical abuse, Sarah identified emotional abuse from her father as the significant issue in her self identity. Specifically, emotional abuse is:

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… manifest[ed] in withdrawal, passivity, tearfulness, thoughts about one’s own and other’s worthlessness, distrust, anxiety, attention-seeking and poor interpersonal skills coupled with exposure to family violence or evidence of adult criticism, verbal abuse, rejection, blaming, unreasonable demands, and inappropriate punishment. (ASPCE, 1999, p. 3)

This definition of emotional abuse captures much of Sarah’s and the court’s depiction of her childhood. Particularly relevant are the references to adult criticism, verbal abuse, rejection, and unreasonable demands. Sarah’s response to the emotional abuse included behaviours related to attention-seeking and poor interpersonal skills.

Acoca (1999) and Siegel and Williams (2003) established a relationship between child abuse and delinquent girls who violently offend. Batchelor (2005) also examined assaultive behaviours among 21 young women aged 16 to 24 years who had histories of child abuse and who also engaged in violence, including murder. Among this cohort, more than one-half of the women had experienced some form of child abuse.

The pathway between emotional abuse in childhood and subsequent violent offending is absent from feminist criminological literature. This may be due to the difficulty in identifying emotional abuse which is manifest through subtle and subjective childhood behaviours (Australian Psychological Society’s Code of Ethics, 2007), whereas neglect and physical and sexual abuse can be substantiated and measured through bodily examinations.

Sarah expressed that her emotional abuse centered around two themes: (a) her father’s harsh criticism and (b) his control over her life. Clearly, both impacted her dramatically, however, the most difficult to share appeared to be her father’s criticism. She claimed:

My father would make me stay home when he went out with the family. Sometimes he would take me along for dinner, but I would have to sit in the car while they went in to eat. He said before I could go into a restaurant with them, he’d laugh at me and say that I would have to have my face fixed. He’d put all these articles on plastic surgery on this bench, at home. I had to read them and then leave him notes about what I was going to have done, what 149

procedures on what areas of my face … you know, he just went on about it.

Sarah struggled to convey the pain that her father’s criticism and rejection had caused her. She argued:

My father was having an affair, and I would be in bed by the time he came home and he would be gone when I got up. We communicated by notes. He would leave me notes on the bench and I would have to put a note on the bench for him. I could never miss responding to his notes or he would become really angry. I was so afraid, that I always left a note.

By briefly discussing the control her father exerted over her life and how it has continued to influence her identity, she claimed:

I grew up in a house where I felt I was locked in. Even when I went on my own, I was under my father’s rules still at that time … I was working in a job he said to get. I was living on my own and still paying him rent and I wasn’t allowed to go out, other than to work and then I had to check in by phone. He controlled me.

In describing her adolescence, Sarah believed she was deprived of a normal childhood:

I’ve never been to a party and I’ve never got drunk. I have never done any of those kinds of things, never! My life was all about the rules … and I think that’s why I fit in here. I’m used to rules and routines and being told what to do, that’s why I fit in here.

As a result of the voluminous note writing between Sarah and her father, a troubling situation arose. As she progressed through her teens and attempted to seek friendships, her father demanded that she write and extensively explain who her teenage friends were, what their families were like, and where they lived. She mentioned: “He was very methodical and he would have me write about my friends … like everything I knew about them and how I felt about them. I had to categorise my friends.” 150

Sarah spoke of how she kept a diary and wrote notes to herself that detailed personal struggles of growing up which were submitted to the court by her father for evidence. She acknowledged that she was angered that her father would reveal to the court such personal information. She was further infuriated that he would not impart any of his “personal notes” that reflected upon his own actions and thoughts about their relationship. Thus, Sarah’s notes and her diary became key pieces of evidence used in her conviction for murder.

When asked how her father’s victimisation impacted on her identity, she firmly stated:

Sometimes, it’s like I hate him, yes, really hate him … but I can’t get away from him. He still has this kind of power over me. It’s hard to explain this to you. When he would write to me, in here, I would have a girlfriend read the letters first, to see what he said that might upset and hurt me. He was good at that.

Sarah admitted that as a woman she remains in conflict and confused about her identity owing to this relationship with her father:

It’s as though I hated and despised his control and he robbed me of normal childhood experiences. Yet, I still find this comfort in him. When I was taken to jail, I was terrified. But when I saw my dad had taken control and was calling the shots with the lawyers and police, I was like … really comforted. He was calling the shots like he always did and it’s what I wanted. It sounds crazy [laughs], but … I hated his control, but it’s all I knew and all I wanted.

Several years after her initial incarceration, Sarah’s contact with her father decreased dramatically: “Rarely does he contact me now … visit me or anything … he has this new life, new family. Come to think of it, I don’t know where I stand with him anymore.” Sarah reiterated: “All I wanted was for him to love me … that’s all a daughter really wants, isn’t it?”

Another residual of her father’s control was the fear that she could not live and function independently: “I hated him for what he was doing, almost punishing me … but I always was 151 worried, worried he would leave me … just look at what happened.” Sarah spoke of how their relationship prevented her from maturing and mastering life skills she needed to be independent: “I’m afraid to leave this place, you know. I have really become institutionalised … I hate to admit it, but it’s my life. You get told what and how to live, every morning, every day, you know.”

Sarah’s narrative was also directed at what she believed was her family’s victimisation by the media: “I used to get letters saying how Australia hates me … and society hates me. People would harass my family … and throw things at my house … my family didn’t deserve that.” Sarah further commented: “What’s out there for me now … I think there are people that might try to kill me … I really don’t know what to expect, how do you prepare yourself for this, no one can.” At this point, Sarah returned to the issue of her father’s control: “I guess it’s like my father’s control, and as hard as it was, I was safe with him and I feel safe in here.” In closing, Sarah returned to the question of how her victimisation impacted on her self- concept. She agreed:

I am in some way still a scared young girl, that’s how it feels sometimes … who longs for her father’s love. I was hurt, really hurt growing up, living under his control … but I still wanted his love and acceptance, you know.

Although the victim offender dichotomy as applied to Sarah will be discussed later, she had much to say regarding the label of victim:

It’s all about being a victim in here. I am determined not to be seen as a victim. Although … talking about my past with my psychologist, she believes that I am … and I am determined not to be and I get very stubborn about that. Even the crime I am charged for … the psychologists and psychiatrists keep telling me I am a victim of this and that. But, they are just doing their job … I just wait for them [shrugs her shoulders]; to always get around to talking about the victim thing … they like to bring this up in our sessions.

Because of this focus on victimisation, Sarah had constructed her own definition based upon her life and experiences. She claimed: 152

The word victim, I don’t think really implies weakness. I think perhaps more submission, like not standing up for yourself or something. For me though, it’s kind of confusing. I don’t feel like I have stood up for myself, but then I don’t feel I was allowed to. For me that was okay and for me that was normal.

I grew up in a really screwy household, but I really don’t see myself as a victim. At that age, who knows what’s right or wrong, you do as your parents tell you, right! But when you sit back and think about it … you know how those bad experiences affected you … in my case, it makes you change … it made me change, I think. You learn something from them and then you move on, you move on, you have to … or you get outside help and move on, it’s about growing up and surviving.

Sarah’s conclusion was similar to Batchelor’s (2005) study in which many girls and women who violently offend reject the status of victim conferred upon them and rather identify themselves as survivors. According to Sarah’s contention, you learn from the bad experiences and then you move on.

4.30 Pathologisation: Steal a Personality, That’s Crazy Since Sarah’s arrest, she has been intermittently treated by mental health professionals who gave her time to question and reconsider the actual onset of her mental health problems. She indicated:

I never had any kind of counselling prior to prison, no, never. There was lots of abuse and neglect and things, you could say, growing up … and I was having some normal problems at school, but I was never seen by a psychiatrist or psychologist, I wouldn’t have even known what they were … what they did.

Although Sarah’s school records indicated that she was chronically truant, disruptive in class, and considered to be a bully herself, she added: “Maybe I should have got some help back then … but I didn’t think I had a real problem … who tells you these things, really … [raises her voice], how the hell do you know?” 153

Sarah remembered when she was taken into custody and was later interviewed by a psychologist and further recalled receiving a cascade of mental health services on that day. Chan (2001) argued that there is an ever increasing presence of mental health professionals in the courtroom, a practice that continues in the incarceration of women. Furthermore, Chan (2005) later reported that women homicide offenders receive more mental health professional referrals than their male counterparts. Sarah described her experience:

I was seen by a number of psychiatrists and psychologists and I’ve been, God, hospitalised … several times. I’ve got this sleep disturbance, not sure what you’d call it … I’ve had it for the past five years, or more … definitely since I’ve been in this hell of a place. I get terrible nightmares, yeah. Not much I can do about that is there? [grins]. I probably get three to four hours of sleep a night … and I’m always tired in here. The psychiatrists outside, they tell me I suffer from some depression and what you call … maybe some posttraumatic stress disorder. I’m still trying to figure that one out [laughs].

Although Sarah recognised that she suffers from “some form” of mental illness and would welcome additional help, she believes that such medical assistance is restricted to incarcerated women who are deemed more psychologically impaired than her:

The staff at the hospital … really do try to help you, they try … but their time is limited … they have to send you back too early into treatment … that happens to me. Some of the other girls in here, you could call them really ‘troubled’ … they have some sort of priority, I guess.

I have these nightmares and troubling thoughts at times … they know I need more counselling, but it’s so hard to get it here. Sometimes I have suicidal thoughts … a lot of the times I do; but it doesn’t mean like, I’m a crazy person. In here you can wait months or years to see someone.

Sarah elaborated on her depression, sleep insomnia, and need for counselling but nonetheless struggled to identify her problems as mental illness. According to Sarah, the media made references throughout the court proceedings to her being insane. As then, Sarah strongly 154 rejected these inferences and still does not identify her insomnia, posttraumatic stress disorder, and depression with a persona of insanity or madness. She argued:

I took someone’s life because I was trying to steal [her] personality … I mean this is a strange concept. How the hell do they know this stuff, where do they get it? A personality is not something that you can take from someone, God no!

Sarah further elaborated her belief that depression, sleep, and troubling thoughts were simply a reaction to all she had endured and not due to a pathology:

I was sent to jail when I was 19 … my family is still screwed up, probably because of me. I have been harassed and beaten up in here … what I have gone through really; I think most people would feel depressed, really depressed! Live in here for a short time and really know what they’re like. I’ll never be able to have a normal life after this. I don’t think this is crazy or madness, you know, how I can feel at times, really, this is my reality.

In Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) study of female offenders’ identity negotiations, they found that numerous women flatly rejected the stigmatising label of mental illness. Although they could accept the “labels of prostitutes and druggies, they vehemently resisted the psychiatrist and prison social worker’s label of insane” (p. 201). In part, the absolute intolerance for these labels accounted for one woman in Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) research arguing that:

The [prison] psychiatrist was giving me shots. He was destroying me. I wanted out! I preferred not to deal with [him]. If you are insane, it follows you all of your life. The difference between prison and psychiatry is that in prison, you have a date when you come out. God forbid! They give you electric shocks! (p. 201)

In light of her traumas, Sarah identified herself as someone who needed the support and assistance of mental health professionals. However, she rejected any reference to her being labelled as “insane.” Chan (2001) and Morrissey (2003) argued that the insane label is 155 quickly affixed to violent women offenders, allowing their deviance to be medicalised and psychologised. Sarah drew a clear line between her adjustment to trauma and mental illness.

4.30.1 Rational or Irrational: Can You Tell Me What That Is? Similar to many other violent offenders, Sarah accepted being identified as an offender and struggled to reconcile with the violent nature of her murder (Comack & Brickey, 2007). Sarah was one of two women who claimed amnesia for segments of her crime. She argued:

Yes, I know what happened; I know it was violent … but it’s what people think out there and maybe in here to, about me … some do … I’m sure, yeah, they think I am violent. People don’t know the whole thing, the real story, they don’t understand it.

Common to all of the women in this research Sarah was at pains to distance herself from violence. “I am not a violent person myself, really, violence just fills this place. I wouldn’t hurt a fly. I mean, I’m a vegetarian because I can’t stand the thought of killing an animal.” Sarah also spoke of frequent confrontations since her arrival at prison: “I’ve had injuries and broken bones from attacks … I have never fought back. I’ve had my nose busted from the times I’ve been struck in the face. It’s crazy around here; you’ve got to keep out of trouble.”

As noted earlier within Lil’s narrative, there is a higher rate of amnesia among women who violently offend when compared to their male counterparts (Evans, 2006). Despite the prevalence of this phenomenon, feminist criminological researchers have not rigorously pursued the significance of amnesia in women who kill. For example, women who kill their children have been proven to have the highest rates of amnesia (Husain, Anasseril, & Harris, 1983). It is speculated that the act of murder, its aberrance for women and its antithesis to domesticity may be related to the amnesia, and allow for a more positive self-identity to be maintained.

Even though the nature of Sarah’s offense was an extreme act of aberrance, she could not reconcile this with her identity as being a non-violent young woman. Unlike Lil, Sarah had not been under the influence of alcohol and did not have a documented history of blackouts and dissociative states. Nevertheless, she claimed no memory of the “physical” act of murder 156 and continued to define herself as a non-violent offender: “I may have been partially responsible for the violence.” Sarah was constantly reminded of this disconnect through her nightmares and a belief that they were somehow related to the crime but were too fragmented to be subject to her interpretation. She was also reminded by the treatment efforts of her correctional counsellors and during her psychiatric hospitalisations that their goal was to assist her in the retrieval of these memories.

As a result, Sarah stated: “I have recovered small bits and pieces, but what happened the months before and the crime itself is still all a blank to me.” Sarah continued to speak of a therapy group that she has resisted attending and referred to as cog-skills. She claimed: “Everyone has to go to it at some point. They force you to confront your crime … and recall all of the details and then demonstrate some sort of remorse.” Sarah shared her years of frustration with trying to remember what really happened and how this group would only serve to further aggravate her. She argues:

The cog-skills group is focused on the crime; yeah, it’s all about the crime. I have not volunteered yet, to hang out with the other girls, no, no way … and if it means never leaving here, well, I just won’t go. I mean shit; I admit I committed a crime, what more do I have to say about this?

4.31 The Court’s Narrative: Framed as a Bad Girl, a Self-Fulfilling Prophecy 4.31.1 Complex and Unexplainable Being only 19 years of age when she committed homicide, Sarah presented the court with a rare phenomenon, a young woman who kills a non-intimate. Mouzos and Rushforth’s (2003) research within Australia identified that 62.4% of women killed an intimate or other family member while an earlier study conducted by Wallace (1986) indicated that of the Australian women who killed, 81.2% of the victims were a family member. Similarly, the Homicide Index (HI) of England and Wales reported that only 9% of the victims of women were acquaintances of the offender (HI, 1995-2001). An extensive review of the literature regarding girls who committed homicide was conducted by Heide (2003) who found only seven studies which examined this phenomenon. This analysis revealed young girls 157 primarily killed intimates and when this was not the case, their homicide offending typically involved a male accomplice in which a murder occurred in the course of another felony.

As a very young woman who murdered a teenage girl acquaintance, Sarah challenged the court’s knowledge of women who kill. Relying on universal explanations, the court narratives and sentencing results (Stubbs & Tolmie cited in Chan, Chunn & Menzies, 2005), employed stock narratives (Morrissey, 2003) and the normative frame of femininity serving as a guiding discourse, with a focus on victimisation and pathologisation.

The sentencing documents for example, relied heavily on the appointed court records of a psychiatric evaluator and a prison psychologist who worked intensively with Sarah. They read:

She details a home life that is characterised by conflict between her parents, frequent criticism, and denigration of herself and emotional and perhaps physical abuse from both parents. Her mother preferred her oldest sister and suffered from significant mood disorder, especially at the time of her birth.

Physically, Sarah was obese for most of her life. Beginning in primary school, she was largely marginalised with few close friends and was frequently teased and bullied. Her writings support the notion that she developed a very poor self-image which at times referred to loathing of herself and her situation. In short, the notes support her description of feeling unhappy and miserable all of her life. This was supported in the judges sentencing comments which reveal a level of sympathy for Sarah: “At one level, it is possible to feel a considerable measure of sympathy and sadness for you as a young person whose level of self-esteem was so low, and who possessed a deep seated sense of self hatred.”

However, the court also presented an image of Sarah as an angry and violent young girl – an image that did not emerge in her narratives. Most of this characterisation was drawn from either school records or from extensive documentation of her prison psychologist: “[Sarah] … sees herself as the bad kid, the trouble maker, and the person who failed everyone’s expectations. As to why she did bad things, she replied: “They expected me to be bad and so I was. I stole things from everyone.” 158

Within psychiatric evaluations were references to manipulative and violent behaviours: “Forensic experts … describe … as being manipulative and “frightening.” The judge commented: “… school records speak of commission of theft and other vengeful or aggressive activities.”

Having dispensed with Sarah’s victimisations as an explanation for her offending, the court investigated the explanation of mental illness via the discourse of pathology (Chan 2001; Morrissey, 2003). Although the court records acknowledged Sarah’s continued treatment for depression, it did not equate Sarah’s depression with her offending. The court reinforced Sarah’s assertion that she had no mental health intervention as a child or prior to her offending.

The theme that dominated the court’s narrative was that of Sarah’s agency. Credence was given to victimisation and pathology, however, these were found to not be as convincing as her identity as a calculated murderer:

Your scheme involved a number of steps and some time in its execution, with each action carefully undertaken so as keep your victim under your control and without arousing either her suspicion or that of anyone else. For my part, I find the deliberation and malevolence with which you acted extremely disturbing.

The tone of the sentencing document shifted to reflect Sarah’s pathological obsession with the victim in order to further distance her from a frame of normative femininity:

… the material before the court in relation to your planning is the total absence of any suggestion or impression that you ever gave any thought to the individuality or the humanity of your victim or any sense of the significance of the taking of a life.

The judge made one of several references to her calculated and selfish behaviour, positioning her as a non-sympathetic offender: “You appear to have been totally self-absorbed, concerned only with your own life situation, feelings, and desires.” Although amnesia was 159 acknowledged as a confounding issue for much of Sarah’s crime, the judge expressed his ambivalence in relation to it being feigned rather than genuine. Essentially, amnesia was dismissed as a mitigating factor given the overwhelming written information which detailed the planning of the murder. Pathological amnesia was thought to have little relevance to her crime.

The court agreed that Sarah was a victim as well as an offender. Upon closer analysis, however, the court records were more reliant on Sarah’s agency as an explanation for her violent offending, despite documentation which communicated her various victimisations. In addition, the court acknowledged the mental health expert’s contention that Sarah had a pathologic personality disorder. Interestingly, the judge spoke as a mental health expert who embraced Sarah’s pathology: “What has emerged however, from all the material, in my opinion is that you suffer from a deeply entrenched personality disorder.” This pathologisation by the judge was not enough to render her a sympathetic victim by the court.

In summary, the court’s sentencing document concluded: “It can be stated with absolute confidence that you were a very unhappy young person. Whilst it would, in one sense, be comforting to ascribe that state of affairs and your behaviour to your background circumstances and intra-family conflict.” The judge however, recognised the complexity of homicide offending by a woman: “… no such simple explanation of your conduct is available.” The judge further commented: “… in some ways it is not a young woman on trial for an awful murder. At a fantasy level, she is still a young child in trouble.” In brief, Sarah was broadly framed as a disturbed young woman from a chaotic and abusive environment, a woman who suffered from a personality disorder who nevertheless planned and executed an extreme act of violence.

4.32 Summarisation of Sarah Sarah’s identity as a victim was primarily in relation to her early child abuse. Currently, the emotional extent of her abuse has been such that she continues to negotiate with her adolescence. In her narratives, she referred to herself as a “lost child” and as a woman “still longing for her father’s approval and love.” In addition, she spoke of insecurities that she believes will not allow her to resume a life on her own outside the prison walls. The prison psychologist labelled Sarah as “institutionalised,” a characterisation with which Sarah agreed. 160

Although Sarah’s childhood behaviours and homicide offending are indicative of significant pathology, she strongly resists any inferences to mental illness. Rather, she recognises her depression, sleep problems, and intrusive memories, but will not allow these troubles to rise to the level of pathology.

Similar to the women in Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) study, Sarah refused to accept the label of “insane” even though it was offered. Regarding the murder that she admittedly acknowledged, she accepted only “partial” responsibility based on her claim to amnesia as well as the mishandling and misrepresentation of the facts. Currently, Sarah perceives of herself as being a young woman who was robbed of her childhood and has no hope for the future upon release from prison.

4.33 Chapter Summary The women who volunteered to share their stories in this chapter embraced to varying degrees the identity of an incarcerated violent offender. They were encouraged to communicate their individual identities and an understanding of how violence became situated within their lives through the primary open-ended question: “Tell me who you are?”

Feminist and mainstream criminological researchers have provided significant data that characterise women who commit homicide as primarily young, largely ethnic minorities, and as single mothers who kill an intimate. Volumes of research have been committed to understanding a violent woman’s victimisations to include abuses and pathologies. In western societies, for example, the woman who kills is typically depicted as a victim, mad, or bad. Predominately absent, however, is a systematic consideration of how these women frame their identities and conceptualise their violent offending. The major themes and sub- themes situated across the narratives of Bella, Wendy, Lil, and Sarah were derived from the master discourse of normative femininity, specifically, the constructs of victimisation, pathologisation, and badness. It was these discourses within which they had to negotiate and from which they framed their identities and lives. All rejected insanity but they did want to be seen as legitimate and sympathetic victims.

Although the four women acknowledged varying degrees of victimisation ranging from childhood abuse and neglect to intimate partner violence, only three of the four internalised 161 victimisation as their predominant self-identity. For these women, victimisation was a difficult identity to assert, especially given the brutal and often planned nature of their homicides. A variety of strategies were utilised as a consequence and the discourse of normative femininity was most called upon to explain away their offending through recourse to domesticity (Lil), good mothering (Bella and Wendy), and domestic or family violence (Wendy, Bella and Sarah).

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Chapter Five: Narratives of Claire, Jean, and Jennifer

5.1 Introduction Similar to the four women introduced in Chapter Four, the three women in this chapter were convicted of murder and are serving lengthy prison sentences in the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre. Although two did not actually commit the homicide offense, they were, nevertheless, accomplices, whereas the third woman was convicted of perpetrating the murder. As will be presented, the women’s backgrounds vary dramatically and their identities are dependent upon information they chose to share in their narratives as well as information that was revealed in the sentencing and appeal documents.

5.2 Claire: “Women in here get ten years for murder: I’m innocent and get twenty-three” Claire was 38 years of age when she was charged for the murder of her husband. Claire was found guilty and it was noted by the judge: “You procured his death and arranged for him to be murdered.” She plead not guilty. The court alleged that Claire had solicited two young male acquaintances to murder her husband. She had no previous criminal charges. She had reportedly complained to these two male acquaintances that her husband had physically abused her and sexually molested her daughters. It was alleged that upon her husband’s death, she would inherit almost one million dollars and with that in hand, she agreed to pay her accomplices commission. Claire received the lengthiest sentence of the three offenders. The judge asserted: “Your planning extended over several weeks. You transported the two killers to and from your home. Your initiation and contribution clearly warrant the highest punishment of the three.” She received a sentence of 23 years with a non-parole period of 18 years.

Although Claire’s narratives did not communicate anything pertaining to her childhood or adolescence years, she did state that she was born and raised in England, and her father was a retired military officer. The only other reference to her biological family was in mentioning that her father had travelled from England to attend her trial and “was shocked at the verdict.” Nothing is known regarding Claire’s mother or siblings.

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In the mid-1990s, Claire married and moved to Australia where she and her husband (the deceased) raised two daughters; the eldest of whom was fathered by another man (no circumstances regarding this birth were divulged) and the youngest was their own biological child. At the time of sentencing, Claire was 39-years-old and her daughters were five and eleven. Apparently, Claire was engaged in ongoing employment and was a part-time supermarket staff member at the time of the murder. In addition, she was a professional international athlete during her 20s and early 30s who won the European championship in her field. Another vocation included that of a dog breeder where she routinely attended dog shows. Claire mentioned that she also volunteered in numerous community activities and organisations over the years.

Claire’s narratives were intent on communicating a victim identity via the criminal justice system “that convicted an innocent woman,” as well as from her husband’s abusiveness: “He wanted sex all the time. He would come home during the day and demand sex, and I would say ‘no’ and he would force me to have sex.” In the court’s sentencing document, Claire testified that on the day of the crime: “I was going home to confront him about the sex;” instead, she discovered her husband’s dead body.

In addressing the larger issue of domestic violence, feminist criminology implies that domestic violence is an abuse of power (Hegarty, Hindmarsh, & Gilles, 2000) and Claire’s husband’s alleged sexual demands fit this depiction. More specifically it is estimated 10% to 14% of all married women experience marital rape (Russell, 1990). In a later study, Randall and Haskell (1995) reported that this act accounts for 25% of the total rapes experienced by women. Browne (1993) and Campbell (1989) also conveyed that between one-third and one- half of battered women are raped by their intimate partners at least once. However, it appears that studies are basically non-existent in which the relationship between marital rape and women who violently offend are examined.

Nevertheless, Claire defined herself as an angry and bitter woman who was victimised by the criminal justice system which has continued throughout her incarceration. Interestingly, six out of the seven women in this research also positioned themselves as victimised through an inept, over-burdened, and biased criminal justice system rather than or as well as, a victim of domestic violence or marital rape. 164

In research regarding violent men and their identity construction, Presser (2002, p. 161) wrote extensively about the struggles men face within the criminal justice system. For example, “the criminal justice system was a foe in the majority of the narratives” based on the criminal justice system’s personification as a powerful well connected enemy that could define the men. In the narratives of the men that Presser (2002) interviewed, she related how their socioeconomic situations did not allow them to wage a good battle against this powerful foe since they were delegated a public defender. In most cases, the men acknowledged that the criminal justice system became their greatest struggle which “seemed to consume the narrators and dwarf other battles” (Presser, 2002, p. 165). Similarly in this research, each of the women, some more vehemently than others, fought against the foe of a criminal justice system. Claire’s battle with the criminal justice system, more than another woman in this research, consumed her as much as it did the male offenders in Presser’s (2002) research.

Like five of the other women in this research, Claire had never had a criminal conviction prior to being found guilty of murder. Her initial exchange with the police was her first face- to-face interaction with any law enforcement officer:

I immediately called the police when I found my husband … and they did come quickly. But what got me, was when I went to get the phone to call his parents, this officer come over and said to me that they don’t need to know right now. I mean, I thought that bloody strange … their son is dead, on the floor and they tell me not to call his elderly parents!

Claire described the next several hours as “a bloody nightmare.” Similar to Wendy’s experience, Claire was apparently escorted to the police station with little explanation yet was subjected to hours of questioning: “Really, it was like a bloody interrogation.” Following is her account:

They had this female police officer talking to me at my home. I kept asking her to call my in-laws … and she became really defensive and said: ‘No, we will do it later.’ The police were insisting I go to the police station. They were very pushy. They said I wasn’t a suspect, but it was for my own welfare. So, what am I going say? I had to believe them, right … but I got concerned 165

for my two girls. There were no adults in the house and they just had me leave my girls alone, in the house and took me down to the police station. I was really upset and of course getting pissed off. It’s like I had no say in anything!

According to Claire, she was treated harshly at the police station and described in detail the several hours she spent there being questioned. She claimed:

They put me in this little room, they made me sit there, here I am staring at the walls … and they kept coming in and out. They’d ask me some questions and the next thing, someone else comes in. As I said, it was a bloody interrogation, now when I think about it more … and they tell me not to worry! [raises her voice].

I was hungry and thirsty and mentioned this, but they ignored me. There was no water or coffee, no one offered me anything, and that just got to me. The questioning seemed to go on for hours and I had no one, not a single support, a lawyer or anyone there with me. What am I going to do, get up and walk out? They suck you in … you have no say or control. But it’s interesting to learn that since I’ve been in here, many of the long termers tell me this is what happened to them too. It seems to be the thing police do to you. We think it’s to wear you down, you know … and break you somehow … and make you trip up in what you say.

Claire’s anger peaked when she claimed what happened when she returned home from the police station. She argued:

Well, they finally take me home after spending hours down there. I get home and emotionally feeling drained, really bloody confused too … here I was dazed and confused and trying to comfort my girls and try and talk to them about what had happened … when the police tell me they have to take my eldest daughter back to the station for questioning. I mean she is 11 years old and being hauled off all frightened and confused.

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Claire detailed her disbelief and the panic she experienced with her daughter having to be questioned at the police station and her staying behind. At this moment, she raised her voice and stated:

She was without her mum, me, her mum for six damn hours, at a strange place and with strange people … and from what she told me later they apparently questioned her like an adult and like a criminal. She said she was scared, really frightened … she’s only a child … you know that this is not right … how dare they!

Claire imparted other experiences surrounding the first 48 hours following her phone call to the police who she deemed insensitive and demeaning. As noted, the police said they would notify the deceased’s parents. Claire conveyed what she believed actually occurred:

You know, the police lied … they never called his parents. They were listening to the news on the radio the next morning and heard about it. They came right over. I was bloody furious … and they get mad at me for not telling them. They were too upset for me to try to explain what really happened … so much for the police helping out [laughs sarcastically]. I thought the police were supposed to be your friends not your enemies in cases like this. Aren’t they supposed to be there to help and protect us … and then they go and let two old people down … their son had been killed … and they go and learn about something like this over the radio. I was furious!

Claire’s victimisation experiences migrated from her initial arrest through the two years she spent awaiting her committal. She first spoke of her experience with her legal team, commencing with discussion about her defense attorney. She further related that she had a total of “a few hours” of time with her attorney:

I sat in prison two years you know, and finally I get this female attorney. I saw her for the first time on the Friday and the committal was the following Monday. I couldn’t believe it! At the hearing, my barrister asked the cop who arrested me, if there was any evidence against me … and why I was arrested. 167

The cop, really had no answer, he just looked at her … couldn’t really give us an answer. He just shrugged it off … well, that’s what it seemed to me at the time.

I believe I should have been acquitted right there, but my barrister said: ‘Let’s go to trial. We didn’t talk much; she really didn’t seem to give a shit. But I was so angry; really bloody angry by that time … she never spoke to me beforehand about this … going to trial, what it meant or anything … nothing! I had no idea what it meant, really.

So then the next thing I noticed, she packed up her stuff, took it off the table and left the courtroom without really talking to me. She nodded to me; she just gave me some sort of glance. So I’m sitting there and I’m thinking ‘Shit, what just happened?’ I had never been in trouble with the law and I had no idea what goes on in court. I thought she was supposed to defend me, but she didn’t bloody get to know me. She comes to meet me here, three days before the committal and all she talks about is what I should wear and how I should look and how I need to act. That’s it! There was never any talk of me going to trial, ever, nothing whatsoever.

Claire asked permission if she could talk more about the actual trial itself with her rationale being: “This will help you, writing this stuff … it will help you understand who I am, really who I am, if you know what I had to go through, and why I think and feel this way.” A new attorney and team were acquired in which Claire indicated that she was initially relieved that she had another female attorney even though she said she felt some resentment against her first attorney. She commented:

I got another female as part of my legal team. Yeah, I had some strong reservations at first, considering what I experienced with the other one. I just hoped she would understand me more, because she was a woman, she could be a mum too, you know, well … that’s what I thought back then.

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Claire’s trial lasted approximately four weeks. She spoke about the rapport she had developed with her newly appointed defense team:

You know, this team didn’t know me at all, maybe they read about me, who knows … it was pretty well publicised my case … and at first you could tell they weren’t sure of my innocence or guilt. But, after the first week, the female attorney comes up to me and said, ‘We honestly believe you are innocent … because of all the bullshit and crap that we’re hearing in this courtroom’. Now, that took me by surprise, her comments. But, I have to say, I was bloody relieved to think someone, finally, was on my side.

At the beginning of her committal hearing, Claire claimed that she and her father were assured by her defense team that she would be found not guilty due to a lack of evidence. According to Claire, the events that followed were utterly beyond belief. Three weeks into the trial she recalled:

I’m sitting there in the courtroom, everything going on around me, my life was just a blur … and then I look across at my attorney to see what she was doing, you know, trying to get an idea of what was going on. And here she was sitting there sound asleep. Her head was dropped a little, so I stared at her for a few minutes in bloody disbelief, I waited … I couldn’t bloody believe it … and she didn’t open her eyes or even move, she looked dead … meanwhile the prosecutor, I think, he was talking about something … and here she is sleeping or whatever, in the courtroom, she’s supposed to be representing me, right? [Claire shakes her head in disgust].

Claire detailed what she believed was a gross mishandling of evidence and procedure that was rampant throughout the four week trial. The extent of this error was such that her attorney petitioned six times to have the jury dismissed. When the verdict was read, Claire conveyed:

I actually collapsed in the dock, when they read out the verdict. My God, it was something I’ll never forget, when they read it out [shakes her head]. My 169

legs gave out. I couldn’t move I was just numb. I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it … with no evidence, none at all to convict me … here I was being found guilty.

I still don’t know why they made me sit and wait another three months after the verdict was read, I had to wait that long before I was sentenced. It’s like I said, I worked my whole life, I have never been in trouble with the law before and the police and the court abused me, they just abused me. And it hasn’t stopped there.

Clearly, Claire’s master identity was that of a victim. Specifically, her larger life’s experience was bypassed as she intently focused upon the criminal justice system, her foe and abuser. She argued:

I’ve had six years, in this hell hole … to think about all that has happened … and who I am, who I truly am and some other things, you know. I have to say that this is the first time; really … I have really talked about it, to anyone. You know, especially someone like you, you’re outside of all of this. You’re not one of them.

Like George (2010) who devoted a chapter in her book pertaining to living with loss, Claire also spoke passionately about the loss of meaningful relationships with her children and her family. She pondered and said:

You asked me who I am, today sitting here. I have to think this through, thoroughly [she pauses, looks around the room]. I think of this situation, you know … my past and who I was, out there. What I did … and then there’s me here, now; who would have ever thought I would end up living in a hell of a place, like this. This was not part of the big picture, no way. Sometimes, when I wake up of a morning, it’s like I ask myself, “Am I really here, living in this terrible place?” You can call it a “before and after, type of movie.”

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Here I was, a mother, a good mum who worked and volunteered in my community. I would often help out, with the kids, support them you know … and when I could on weekends, go out and help out in the local community, whatever was happening around home. I had never been in trouble, never with the law. I was a well-known athlete … back home … and even here locally; I think that speaks for itself … you know, the type of person I was outside … and I’d like to think I was well regarded too.

Look around you … listen to the way they talk to us, it’s not just me … I have been reduced to a number, a number and a prison routine. Always, and still is, most important to me was being a mother you know, a good mother to my girls. Now I see my kids three to four times a year, if I’m lucky [laughs sarcastically]. I can’t call them … freely; you’re always being watched. The prison makes these stiff rules, even for mothers in here. I can’t mother from in here, can I … none of us can. I can call myself a mum, to you or whoever, but I can’t be one, can I? Not while I’m in this shit hole … that destroys you, not being able to be with my girls, it eats away at you, no matter how strong you are. It destroys you inside; it takes from you any self-worth you might have. I hate it, I hate this place [becomes slightly emotional]. Look at what I’ve become. I don’t like what I see in the mirror and the person I am.

Claire further spoke of her new way of “thinking” and how her “personality” had changed since incarceration. She claimed:

You know, I have become simply a number, that’s really it! I respond to my number over the speaker system. You’ve probably heard them call out numbers and last names on the speaker, while you’re here. It’s like my whole life is controlled … by them. I can see what they mean by getting institutionalised. I never thought much about what that meant … now, now I do. I’m letting them think for me. You get up in the morning, you have to do certain things during the day, and the lights are out by a certain time at night … they control you. They aren’t letting me think for myself, are they, we’re like puppets [shakes her head and slightly grins]? 171

In sharing her perception of the impact that incarceration has had on her and the fear of losing what remains of her self-identity, she stated:

If you want to know who I am, I guess I’m what they call me, a prisoner with a number. My name is called over the speaker and I go to wherever. I’m sort of mechanical, if that makes any sense? Or maybe you could say, more like a dog, an animal that has to be obedient. The longer I’m here, the less I feel like a mother or like a human being. They steal your soul in here, yeah. I no longer compete in professional sports and I don’t volunteer at the community centre or do stuff for my kids. That’s taken. That’s who I was out there, that’s who I was.

So you ask me now, how do I feel, years after living here? Well I’ll tell you … I’m angry, very angry. I’m lonely; it’s hard to make any friends in here, it’s tough going you know … and to trust anyone here, you’ve got to watch your back. I’m really tired, tired of living this [throws her arms up in the air]. This isn’t how I was! This wasn’t me. I worry about this. I mean, am I going to stay this way till I die? Because of this place and the people in it, all of them; will I be bitter and alone years from now … and God help me, when the time comes when I am released? This really worries me.

What about my girls, I’m certainly not going to be the mum they knew before this terrible thing happened, am I? Prison has changed me, it changes you. It’s taken my life, you know. Seriously, I think it’s changed me on the inside, it’s hardened me so much, and come to think about it, I really don’t like what I’ve become.

5.3 Pathology of Mind and Body Although much has been written pertaining to demographic variables (see Hardesty et al., 1994; Hoffman et al., 1998) and the possible causal relationship between mental illness and women who kill (Chan, 2005), minimal information however, is known in relation to mental illness and its impact on the identity formation of women who choose to kill. In my study, two of the women had histories of mental illness prior to committing homicide, whereas four 172 developed mental health problems following their crime, during their criminal proceedings, and eventual incarceration.

The question is not so much why the women developed mental health problems or the extent and type of mental health disorders but rather how the illness serves to inform their identities. In George’s (2010) book in which she shared her personal experiences and the lives of fellow inmates, a chapter is devoted to the impact of physical problems faced by the women. Similarly, Claire began to speak of her victimisation in relation to mind and body pathologies and how they served to form her identity: “I never suffered from any physical or mental problems that I ever was aware of before I got to this place.” At the time of our conversation, she had been incarcerated at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre for approximately six years. In referring to health issues, Claire centred more on her “chronic depression.” She claimed:

Well, I never saw a counsellor of any kind you know, before coming in here. I never thought I needed to, but maybe, now I think with time; looking back, as I’ve had all the time in the world in this place to think this through … I’ve learned that maybe I had some real depression issues … not only now but it could’ve been all of my life, and I didn’t realise it.

In recounting her depression experiences while incarcerated, Claire said:

Well, apparently, I’m a level three psychiatric patient, whatever that really means [shrugs her shoulders]. When you hurt yourself, they classify you as some kind of a suicidal risk. Since I’ve been here, I’ve had about, what I’d call three long stays at the psych unit at the Thomas Embling Hospital.

You get escorted there and when you get there, they treat you pretty good. They seem to treat everyone about the same, from what I can tell. I’ll stay like, sometimes for about six weeks. I can tell you, that my first time there in 2003, were like the best weeks of my life. Sounds really sad, doesn’t it? But it took that time … getting away from this shit place, for me to find out who I really was. Just before they moved me there and my first two weeks in Thomas, I really wanted to die. I stopped talking to people, I didn’t want to 173

have anything to do with them, and I stopped eating too. It was rough going for me, come to think of it now.

She also spoke of how she sensed herself as “not feeling human.” “I’m just a number and like a dog on a leash that has no control.” She continued:

I just stopped feeling in here. I was never like this on the outside, you know. I was always active and busy and laughed a hell of a lot [smiles]. I got hard in here, I toughened up … you’ve got to in order to survive, and I recognised it happening to me, but I couldn’t turn it off. You just can’t turn it off. Like I said, I’ve become someone I despise.

By identifying herself as feeling despondent, Claire admitted that she would welcome help for her depression:

You know, there is no rehabilitation in here, none whatsoever. Come to think of it, what the hell does it really mean [laughs out loud]. Yeah, the prison talks about rehabilitation a lot, but not much goes on as I can see. We don’t seem to be a priority, us long termers. Sure, they have programs in here, but they are geared for the short termers, not us long termers. What about women like me that are truly depressed and are here for a long time?

In speaking more about prison programs, Claire had come to believe that no suitable medical program was available for someone like her. She argued:

Well, you see, they have this drug and alcohol program … you get in a group and see a counsellor with some of the other girls here. They all sit around and talk; you know all that kind of stuff. They keep telling me I have to attend this group. I think to myself, why? You want to know why I have a trouble with this? It’s because I’ve never smoked in my life, never. I’ve never used drugs and I rarely ever drank. I reckon this program is for the younger girls that come in and out of here, the young drug abusers and some of them are alcoholics or they’ve got some sort of a drink problem. So, this so called 174

rehab program, it’s not for me, what good is it going to do … so what am I to do; I have to sit it out, don’t I?

Claire voiced that she was particularly upset with the lack of available mental health services:

I have been here for about six years and I’ve had about six different psychologists [jokes sarcastically]. Six in six years, God! I’m not sure why, but they come and go all the time around here; they can’t seem to keep them here. I just gave up [shrugs her shoulder] on seeing them, it’s a bit like ‘here we go again’. I get really tired of seeing new counsellors, having to start all over again, talk to them about my life, tell them how I’m feeling and what’s going on with me. It can drive you crazy [shakes her head]. I mean, some are nice and they mean well, you know … but I think they just burn out and move on.

Like most of the other women in my study, Claire spoke highly of the kind staff and the service they received at the Thomas Embling Hospital: “I am treated like a human being there, people such as the doctors and the nurses, they listen to you and they care for you ... no matter who you are.” Claire maintained that between her psychiatric hospitalisation and living in prison, she was forced to struggle with depression on her own and without medication:

I don’t have any choice do I? In here you have to put up and shut up. They don’t provide any service in here for me, nothing, they don’t give a damn. Trying to get counselling is too hard and takes so much time; you just figure the hell with it.

The purpose of this research was to capture the identities of the women who strived to construct a framework from the available discourses, of who they had become after being labelled a violent offender. For several, the victim discourse was rejected because, for them, it implied weakness and was considered to be an excuse. For Claire, a focus on victimisation beyond the criminal justice system related to her ongoing mental illness and failing health. As previously mentioned, she was a professional international athlete who prided herself in 175 her stature and fitness and during our conversations she presented as a physically strong and muscular woman. However, she continually described herself as being in poor physical shape due to inadequate health care since her incarceration, an ongoing issue for women inmates (George, 2010). In short, Claire views herself as a “40 year old woman in a 60 year old body.” She believes that she needlessly suffers from physical pain and has an ongoing fear that some conditions, namely her back injuries, are progressing without ever being addressed by the prison system. She maintains:

Well, I have these ruptured discs in my back … and I can’t get them looked at. No one seems to want to help me here. They have got so much worse since I‘ve been in here. I can understand why they don’t hand out pain pills all of the time, I get that, I know some of the girls in here abuse these things … but there are other ways of helping someone like me. And to think about asking them to get some x-rays done, God that’s a laugh. It’ll never happen, never!

More specifically, Claire spoke of her health care needs that go unmet:

As women we have health care needs that get ignored, all of the time in here. There are rarely gynecologist visits, and we all should be looked after in this area, we’re not getting any younger. We don’t get good dental care or get our eyes checked regularly. If you try to get looked at, you basically line up and take a number, get in line, like the rest. It’s like, you’ve got to get in a line and if you’re lucky, your number gets called out. God forbid if you have a chronic condition … because you won’t get the help in here that you need.

Finally, Claire provided more examples which she referred to as “shit and poor” medical and mental health care. Claire asserted:

Well, you wanted to know who I am, sitting here today, and I’ll be sitting in this place for a hell of a long time. I’m depressed, I’m depressed most of the time in here, and my body, well it’s a physical wreck. I reckon I have aged about 20 years in only six years in here. I’m like a depressed old woman, 176

that’s me. My mind’s numb and my body is no longer strong, it’s no longer in good health or shape.

In discussing her incarceration experience as a woman serving life for murder, George (2010) reported that her experiences with the physicians, as a rule, were insensitive and the turnover among physicians was a chronic problem. She further claimed that many women will avoid the prison physicians and will therefore either treat themselves or one other. Reflecting on her life sentence and the inattention to health needs, George (2010) stated: “The hastening of death might not be so bad a thing” (p. 135). Like Claire who received the lengthiest sentence of the seven women in my study, one might argue that for a woman in her 40s who was given 23 years in prison, this may feel like a life sentence.

In speaking her mind, George (2010) was of the opinion to never hold out hope for good things, this way if they happen “they are a pleasant surprise” (p. 135). Interestingly, throughout Claire’s discussion there was a tone of resignation as she spoke of her ongoing depression and failing physical health.

Claire’s master identity and the discourse from which she drew upon the most was that of victimisation. Essentially, she asserted that she had been victimised by an unjust legal system, physical and mental health problems, and the claims that her husband demanded “unwanted” sex during their marriage.

5.4 Wife and Mother Very little is known about Claire’s husband and their marriage other than the limited information provided from court documents. Claire maintained that she had a typical domestic arrangement but conveyed very little else. Basically, she claimed to have arranged her work schedule in order to be actively involved with the children’s activities and gave any spare time back to volunteer in community services. She also tried to keep up her athletic career but had to scale back significantly once she had children. In addition, neither the court records nor Claire ever addressed or discussed the issue of her eldest child being fathered by another man. Essentially, Claire spoke of her motherhood within the following context:

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I changed to do the night shift at the store. I wanted to be around for my two girls during the day and for their school activities. Kids keep you pretty busy you know, and my daughters were involved in lots of things. They kept me pretty busy, but that’s what you do when you’re a mum. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In referring to her family life, she further stated:

We worked hard, both of us, we worked really hard … and we had a nice home. We kept busy, really busy as a family. My in-laws were good people, they were a big part of our life … and pretty close to us and our girls.

In discussing more about her daughters and their relationship, Claire indicated that her work, marriage, and having a nice home were all important pieces of her life. However, she found her identity was primarily associated with her love and care for her two young daughters:

I built my life around my girls. I changed jobs, my work hours, my shifts … pretty much gave up my sport too. I made it all fit around what they needed, my girls are my priority, it’s what you do, you know. I had good and loving parents growing up and I learned from them the importance of being a good parent, and being a good mum to my daughters.

Claire’s narrative of good motherhood was used like Bella and Wendy to offer a different identity to that of victim while still residing within the normative frame of femininity. Very quickly, however, her narrative shifted to how her incarceration and “these false charges” impacted on the close relationship she once shared with her children:

I feel pretty inadequate as a mother now. It’s gut wrenching really. I’m never sure when I will see them in here. I don’t like the idea of having them to see me this way but … I can’t get letters and things sent to them from in here. It’s almost impossible. I think they block me, you know. It wouldn’t surprise me. Since I’ve been in here, someone else has had to take over my responsibility, as a mother and carer. I don’t know what they’re up too, what they do each 178

day … I can’t reach out and hug them. It’s up to someone else … and that hurts me so much.

How this line of thought greatly influences the incarcerated woman’s self-concept and hopes for the future is difficult to gauge. In her book, George (2010) discussed how on one day a woman may be intricately involved in every detail of her child(ren)’s life, the next day, someone else is caring and comforting them. According to Bernstein (2005), many mothers who are serving long sentences fear that their children will have moved on, left them behind, and eventually, perhaps, forgotten them. In attempting to understand this dynamic, O’Brien (2001) and Pollock (2002) suggested that such painful and gloomy possibilities linger in the mother’s heart and mind. In Claire’s case, her daughters will be mature women when she is released from prison and may have left her in the wake of their lives. In response, Claire stated:

I pray to God, that my girls will know me; that they will want to hug me and they will see me and remember me, still as their mum … and even love me when I get out of here. I look forward to that day and yet I’m afraid of it. This system … living in here, it took them away from me.

Claire’s identity is obviously framed around an inept criminal justice system, her husband’s sexual abuse, chronic debilitating depression, and unremitting health problems. While it is her physical and mental health conditions that have come to define her identity as evidenced by her narratives of feeling much older than her chronological age, depressed, and diseased, it is her master identity as an innocent victim of a corrupt criminal justice system that most motivated her. For example, when given the opportunity to engage in open-ended questions regarding her life and experiences, she inevitably moved the narrative back to her innocence, the specifics of the murder, and her continued victimisation by the prison.

Like all of the mothers in my study, Claire felt that her criminal identity undermined her identity as a mother and the loss of this identity was a constant and painful thought. Towards the end of our interview, she expressed her helplessness and hopelessness in relation to her children, her health, and her future:

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I am pissed off … I’m bitter, very bitter and bloody angry. I’m just so tired of it all. They have worn me down so much … you get up in the morning and wonder, who the hell you are … and I wonder, I think about it … if I will ever leave this place. If I leave this place, will I be sane? I hate this place.

5.5 Summary of the Court In order to preface the court’s depiction of Claire, a brief mention of the charges filed against her is necessary. First, evidence was submitted that implicated her in two previous attempts to end her husband’s life a month prior to his death. One incident involved her intentionally cutting the brake line from his vehicle and the other involved an attempt to run him off the road while he was riding his motorcycle. Allegedly, both attempts were conducted at Claire’s request by one of two men who were convicted of her husband’s actual murder. However, the prosecution argued there was a substantial body of evidence tying Claire to both attempts as well as the actual murder.

The court provided only a brief mention of Claire’s claim that her husband had allegedly sexually abused her. In addition, both assailants informed the court that Claire had repeatedly disclosed that her husband was a pedophile, had abused both daughters, and therefore did not deserve to live. Once again, this abuse was not substantiated by court records: “Not only did the applicant bring about the murder by painting her husband as a child molester and cruel husband … .”

Unlike the other women in this research, the court showed little interest in Claire as a person who had a past and present history, focusing entirely on her alleged crime. Essentially, the court repeatedly emphasised “lies and shifting accounts” of events that happened and was preoccupied with volumes of substantiated evidence linking Claire and the two male assailants (who twice failed to end her husband’s life). In light of this evidence, a woman who was seemingly victimised and mad was bypassed; rather, the court focused upon her agency and argued that Claire sought her husband’s demise in order to collect a large insurance settlement. In fact, the police determined that she was the sole beneficiary of her husband’s estate and would receive approximately $900,000. Thus, the court argued that the murder charge was justified based on intent, and a motive of financial gain and greed was obvious. 180

5.6 Summarisation of Claire Claire rejected the label of criminal and sought to establish her identity within the normative frame of femininity as being a good wife, mother, a victim of the criminal justice system and an ailing prisoner. She continues to maintain her identity as a hard working and giving woman who had never been in trouble with the law and positions herself as a person who was falsely accused of murder. From her viewpoint, her life was stolen, she is quickly aging, and she is sick in mind and body. Claire constantly fears that she will be forgotten by her two daughters; she has little hope for the future, and works hard at portraying a victimised master identity.

Although the court granted Claire the benefit of a psychiatric expert, there was no relationship established between her depression and her crime. Therefore, her references to sexual abuse and her husband’s child abuse were dismissed. As a result, Claire was deemed as a “bad,” woman “who killed as a man would for greed and financial gain,” thus casting her outside the buffer of normative femininity. Like Sarah, Claire’s calculated and well documented planning of her victim’s murder reinforced her identity in the court as evil and bad.

5.7 Jean: No Body, No Weapon, No Witness Jean was 52 years old when she was arraigned on a single count of murder for which she plead not guilty. Jean was 50 years old when it is alleged she killed a female acquaintance that was at the time intimate with her boyfriend. The court framed Jean’s offense as motivated by pathological jealousy. There existed evidence of Jean’s ongoing harassment of her victim due to repeated phone calls and her surprise appearance at the victim’s apartment on a number of occasions. Jean’s not guilty plea centred on the argument that no body or weapon was found and there was no witness. She was found guilty of murder and sentenced to 18 years with a fixed non-parole of 13 years.

Jean, one of three children and the mother of two adult sons, was born in Australia in 1947. Although nothing is known about her past marriage, she was well established as an industrious private housekeeper who was employed several years prior to her conviction. She was reportedly held in high regard by family, friends, and clients. In addition, accounts 181 pertaining to community involvement as well as commitment to her children’s outside home activities were provided.

In 1997, Jean was taken into custody and found guilty of an acquaintance homicide; and received an 18 year prison sentence with a fixed 13 year non-parole period for the murder of her former boyfriend’s lover. On occasion when her narratives revolved around the issue of the crime itself, Jean would eagerly and consistently communicate her innocence by constantly commenting: “There was no body, no weapon, no witness.”

During the first interview session, Jean was afforded an explanation pertaining to my research and information about myself. In turn, she was encouraged to share a little about herself, however, she chose to discuss her case and subsequent victimisation: “I was used as a scapegoat you know, that’s why I’m here. They needed a suspect and they provided the court with a sloppy case.” Most upsetting to Jean was her disillusionment with the judicial system and her conviction:

You don’t go and put someone in prison for half of their life without them being found guilty, without reasonable doubt, do you now. Isn’t that what they tell you … this is supposed to be about fairness. They tell you, you’re supposed to be innocent until proven guilty … look at what happened to me?

Jean further shared how the first couple of years following her arrest were very bitter and resentful. She claimed:

I had all of this time to think about this reasonable doubt thing. There was no body, no witness, no weapon … really there was nothing … and it’s like the jury had trouble convicting me. I saw some of the female jurors, they were sobbing. Come to think of it, sitting here with you now … if we had been talking a few years back, I would have been a different person. Back then, I was really furious that I was convicted when there was all this doubt. It was all I could talk about and it became who I was. I was an angry woman who felt betrayed. I felt it and acted it. I felt betrayed by the justice system … our legal system; yes it truly let me down. 182

Jean indicated that her anger toward being falsely charged was further fuelled by being introduced into a corrupt and inadequate legal system. Her initial encounter was, of course, with the police, who arrived at her home in the middle of the night. Upon questioning, she noted that she became worried and therefore made a random phone call to a local female lawyer whose name she looked up in the phone directory. According to Jean, she could not communicate effectively with this lawyer: “I couldn’t understand a word she was saying; she was confusing me, talking about things I didn’t understand … so I changed, I got rid of her, good riddance … and got some help from Legal Aid.” Apparently, her Legal Aid counsel was just as disappointing. She commented:

I get this solicitor, another one who seemed not interested in my case [shakes her head in disgust] … didn’t care and was so unprepared when they spoke to me. Wasn’t even familiar with the case. Now, you have to understand, by this time, you could imagine, I was getting pretty worried.

By this time, I was now scared and angry. Here I am, I’m charged with something I didn’t do … and I get legal counsel that is too busy and who doesn’t even care to hear me, not want to know about my side of the story. It’s like they have their own set of rules and agenda. Sort of just listen and stay out of my way.

After speaking with her sons and friends, Jean was determined that she needed to seek a private lawyer: “I was really disappointed that I couldn’t rely on the public legal system to help me. I mean, we pay them to be there for us.” Her disappointment quickly spilled over to the private legal system.

A lawyer who practiced within Jean’s neighbourhood mentioned that he required a retainer up front; therefore, she handed him her cheque book. Jean argued:

He took out about $12,000 … almost right away you know, out of my account. I have to say, that I felt good about him, and I really believed that he was going to work hard for me. It was like; finally … someone was going to help me get through this legal stuff. 183

As a harsh reality, Jean relayed the following experience:

So, I get a call from my lawyer and he said he’s got this high powered barrister to come and work on my case. I was pleased and really happy to hear this. We get to court, I see the barrister and I’m feeling okay about everything; well, the best I can feel considering what was going on. The barrister then gets up to speak. I’m sitting there, waiting to see how things go with this barrister. As I said, he stands up and said to the judge: “We would like an adjournment.”

He then walked out of the court room. I’m sitting there with my lawyer, dumb founded, and thinking what happened? He got up, yeah and said a couple of words and left me sitting. For him to say that and then walk away; it cost me about $3,000 and I could have bloody done that myself. That made me angry, I got upset too. By now, between the barrister and my attorney, my money, my life’s savings was gone. I’m thinking like … where the hell did it go, what good did it do for me?

My savings was gone and now my solicitor was going to go after my house for more money. I owned my house and he was after it. I had to go back to Legal Aid or come up with more money for the private attorney.

Nevertheless, the lawyer came to see her about selling her home in order to fund her legal costs and reportedly stated: “I have a mate in real estate and we should let him sell your house to raise money for your legal fees.” In struggling with this request, Jean shared: “By now I didn’t trust him at all … and if I lost my home, I would have nowhere to return when I’m released.”

Jean conveyed numerous specifics surrounding her decision to not sell her home and again having to go back and engage a Legal Aid team. She also detailed the trial and its outcome as she understood the proceedings. Similar to all of the women in this research, Jean felt betrayed by the legal system and depicted public defenders as being overburdened and 184 unavailable. Jean claimed that she met only for a couple of hours on two occasions with her Legal Aid lawyer:

I was surprised, really! He spent most of his time telling me what to wear for court; as though I have a lot to choose from while in here … he told me how to behave, you know, how to look at the people in the courtroom, keep my head up, and look remorseful, and I said ‘For what?’ He said to appear interested … something like that. He gave me some advice on what I should do when I get into the court room and then he insisted I don’t take the stand.

This advice and courtroom recommendation from legal teams was a common thread among all seven women in this research, as was the recommendation that they don’t take the stand. For example, Jean and Wendy both remained convinced that if they had not been coerced by either their legal team or sons to not testify, their testimonies may have resulted in a lesser charge, or in Jean’s case, she is convinced her charges would have been dropped. At the closure of Jean’s trial, her attorney apologised and commented: “I’m sorry about this and we will appeal.” Jean said she responded with: “I said you’re sorry … you’re sorry … and I get 18 bloody years!”

Perhaps most crushing to Jean’s failed confidence with the judicial system was a follow up comment by her lawyer shortly after apologising to her about the outcome. Jean claims her lawyer continued with: “Some cases you know, do not go as expected, as we planned.” She said: “Then he had the hide to say to me, as upset as I was at that stage … and in shock … I couldn’t believe it … he said: “Sometimes the case goes to whoever can lie the best” [shakes her head].

With regard to her appeal hearing, Jean commented: “What else could I do, except put in for an appeal … so with his help, we did. I had lost all faith in our legal system by now, but I had to give it a go.” Although Jean followed through with an appeal, she argued that during the appeal: “They made me sound 100 times worse! They referred to me as this mad, sort of crazy woman [frowning and shaking her head], who could have gone out and shot this woman 20 times.” Jean acknowledged that occasionally she wondered if she had sold her home in order to fund a private lawyer, would she today be a free woman. Interestingly, in 185

Leonard’s (2001) Californian prison study of battered women who killed, she found that there was no significant sentencing difference between those who hired private counsel versus those who engaged a public defender.

Jean’s identity revolved around her status as a victim from the time of her arrest to her first two years of imprisonment. While other women namely Bella, Lil, and Sarah, claimed victimhood across their lives, Jean’s victimhood only spanned the 10 years since her arrest and incarceration.

She believed that her innocence coupled with her court experience resulted in an angry and bitter attitude that defined her and dictated much of her behaviour. Although she recognised that this was not a true reflection of herself, she also realised that she had to “move on,” and “get on with it” and “work out my time.” This lead to Jean’s master identity which was defined through her relationships, work, and goodwill towards others. The value she placed on relationships and her efforts at being industrious and helpful are compatible with the normative frame of femininity. More than any other woman in my study, Jean found relationships to be critical in her life and maintained close friends both within and outside the prison.

In Campbell’s study (1993) of expressive and instrumental violence, women were found to define themselves through relationships more so than men. When addressing her relationships, Jean stated: “Well, my sons and my family have always been behind me 100%.” She further recounted how her sons were always supportive and stood by her side throughout the arrest, sentencing, and appeal process. She shared that their love and support “helped me to stay focused on doing my time, by working hard in here and getting home to them.” She also reflected on her sadness of not being able to be a good grandmother to her grandchildren:

My sons and their wives work all the time … and it’s a long drive here, just for a visit. They always want to bring the grandkids up to see me, to visit for a while … but I’ve asked them not to bring my grandkids here; I don’t want them to be exposed to this type of place. This is not a place for kids.

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Jean qualified her stance in the following statement:

I’m not a criminal, no, never [shakes her head] … I haven’t done anything wrong … and I don’t belong in here. I don’t want my grandkids to know me as a criminal. I don’t want them to think I committed any crime. They don’t need to be around this awful environment, it’s not right for them to see this.

Regarding her friends, Jean commented: “My friends are really … they are my lifeline, while I’m in here.” She further mentioned that she takes every opportunity to phone them and added that one of her elderly male friends visits her regularly. At this point, she related how ashamed and embarrassed she felt to discover that prison officials had stripped-searched her 75-year-old male visitor: “You know what, he told me that he understood and it really didn’t bother him that much. It’s awful.”

Jean identifies herself as a kind person and a woman who avoids conflict. She has not crossed the threshold of normative femininity which forbids violence (Daly, 1994; Lloyd, 1995; Naffine, 1996). As she contended:

You know this is a violent place … it’s noisy, girls screaming and fights breaking out, it happens around you all the time. Just the other day I saw two young girls really going at it, God knows what for this time, but it happens a lot. There’s always something happening here.

In keeping with our conversation, Jean shared two episodes in which she refrained from violence. She claimed:

We don’t have much money, no matter how hard you work here … and we can’t have many things in here. We’re limited to like a shoe box, it can hold your letters and things like that, and that is it, really. But one of my cell mates borrowed my fan without asking and she broke it. She tried to fix it and messed with it, but she couldn’t make it work. That’s when I was really angry, I don’t have much in here, and she didn’t ask me to borrow it. But then 187

I had to laugh at her stupidity, because here she was … she was hosing it down thinking that would fix it [shakes her head and rolls her eyes].

As with all of the women in my study, Jean made reference to some of the violent young inmates who will “attempt to provoke you and try to make you fight them.” She shared:

A couple of days ago, I came across two young girls fighting each other. Swearing and hitting into each other. Then, they get into me. I’m trying to help and they turned on me. They were calling me names and got right up to my face, egging me on … but I can’t afford to get into trouble, no one can in here … and I don’t want that kind of reputation in here. You get into a fight and it sticks, you get known around here as a trouble maker, I don’t want anything to do with this.

Jean gave the following advice regarding the best way to cope with a long sentence:

Don’t let it get to you … you can’t let it … you’ve got to keep out of the … girl’s and the guard’s way; keep your head down … keep away from anything like the gossip. You don’t trust anyone, really. But I will help others in here, some of the girls are quite nice, some of the young short termers so I’ll lend a hand, help them out, if I can … I’m a bit older and a bit wiser.

But, on the other hand, you’ll hear and see terrible things, all the time in here, but you have to turn away, you can’t afford to get involved. It’s a nasty place in here. I stay busy, I keep really busy; I do what I can to pass the time and if its work, I’ll take it. It all helps in passing the time around here.

Like Lil, Jean perceived herself to be a nurturer who consistently invests in the lives of other inmates. For example, she befriended many short termers who were not violent or prone to causing trouble. As such, she claimed to be considered as a motherly and reliable woman within her cell block: “I’m really someone they can depend on.” She explained:

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You know, I try to help the others. I got a call recently from a friend who was just released after serving 10 years. She was in here for a while and then they transferred her out. I was always there for her … and here she is calling me and still looking for support. Here I am, I’m in here and she is phoning me for support [smiles]. She told me that it’s been a hard adjustment for her. She said she gets fearful of going out and she gets lost a lot when driving. But I had to laugh, she made me laugh … its funny [gives a soft laugh], because she wants to drive all this way and visit me [smiles], in here, the place she left.

Although Jean distanced herself from the young violent offenders, she spoke empathetically toward some of them. She believed:

They are just in and out of here. Most of them in here now, they have drug and drinking problems and they fight a lot too. Some of them have real anger problems too. They seem to get caught up with abusive men and some have come from really violent families. Sometimes I can talk to them, just lend a hand and hopefully help them, but that’s very different than running with them. That’s something I won’t do.

Jean continued to speak of the prison drug problem and related two situations where she went to the aid of young women who had overdosed: “One of them … one was in a coma, and I thought for a minute, God she was dead! I held her in my arms and called for help, otherwise who knows what would have happened to her.” Jean mentioned that she had been “falsely accused” and was doing time and yet these girls were in prison due to circumstances they couldn’t control. She commented:

I feel bad for some of them. I don’t know if they will ever get their life back on track, if ever. I have, what, less than four years to go here … and I assure you will never be back in prison, never step foot in this place again. But I think, if you were to go and ask them, they’d probably tell you, that they will never be able to stay out of prison.

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Arguably, Jean’s identity is in keeping with the normative frame of femininity. She positions herself as a good natured, compassionate, and caring woman who tends to her cell mates and has a heart for the younger repeat offenders. She expressed the strong relationships she had with her friends and family and how she strives to keep the lines of communication open. Although she acknowledged that she sometimes becomes angry with other inmates and occasionally at odds with officers, she never retaliated: “I think the staff and the girls in here that really know me would say I am a pretty good woman. Like I said, my family and friends are 100% behind me.”

Jean’s identity as a worker competes for her master identity. She has been a hard worker all of her life, paid her home off, and had a thriving housekeeping business prior to her conviction for murder. This work ethic appears to have followed her to the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre. She claimed:

You know that I work seven days a week in here. I do the kitchen, some of the gardening … you name it I’ll just about give it a go. And as far as I know, I probably earn more than any woman in here, roughly about $79.00 a week. The key to me staying pretty normal is by staying busy and keeping my life outside, keeping in contact with what’s happening outside … as much as I can.

In providing a further rationale for working long hours in prison, Jean explained:

I prefer to be busy because it makes my time go quickly. It sounds crazy, but my time here has flown by … and it’s because I am busy all the time. I try not to slow down, I do get tired, I can get exhausted, but the minute you have too much time to think about things, it gets hard. I think you have to stay busy and then get the hell out of here.

Jean took pride in discussing her busy prison work schedule: “I am known as a good worker around here and I’m trusted.” She provided detailed examples in light of her work habits. Interestingly, she has already begun to think about the apparent heir to her job. There is an inmate with approximately 10 years remaining, who she plans to groom to take over her responsibilities: “Yeah, I’ve told her that if you work hard, you will get a good reputation 190 around here and you will be less prone to get into trouble. All I can say so far is that it’s worked for me.”

In keeping with a life free of aggression, Jean’s identity draws from the normative frame of femininity as a nurturer who treasures her relationships both in and outside of the prison. Seemingly, Jean has applied the narrative of domesticity to her imprisonment in terms of caring for her cell mates and living a neat and ordered life in which her cell has become her home. Interestingly, she leaves for work and comes “home” in order to tend to others at the end of her day in which she alluded to as her “mothering” of the younger women.

5.8 Pathology: “Many women here get help for depression and nerves: I don’t need that kind of help” Although Jean strongly denied any history or present mental health disorders, she addressed the issue as she perceived it happening to other women. For Jean, there was never any mention of a psychiatric or psychological evaluation conducted at the court’s direction which is apparently the standard for most women who kill (Chan, 2001). In my general discussion with all the women, the following statement was incorporated into my research: “Most people would consider murder an extreme act of aggression or violence and hard to comprehend.” Jean immediately responded by addressing violence and mental illness in other incarcerated women:

Well, I know, there are a lot of violent women out there, for sure. Some of them are in here now. But if you’re talking about me … and what they wrongly accused me of doing … well, all I can say is that I have never been a violent or an aggressive woman, no never have. I’m not, even with what goes on in here.

You just have to ask the people at home and in here and you’ll know that. I think the women that get violent, especially the ones I see around here, they probably are, well some of them are mentally sick, it’s like, for them to have done what they apparently did; they have to have some serious mental problems, don’t they?

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Jean was further asked if anyone had ever suggested that she see a psychologist or a counsellor (both during her arrest and subsequent incarceration). Laughing aloud, she responded:

No, no, not at all … why would they do that? It would be a waste of time for everyone … and somebody, one of the other girls in here that needs to see someone would lose out, if I took that space. It’s been about, well, probably 10 years now since I got here and I haven’t seen anyone yet. I have no need or intention, why would I? I’m coping in here, a lot better than some of them [smiles].

Jean expressed some ambivalence regarding whether or not all women inmates who used services for mental illness really need them:

I know some of the women in here have real mental problems, pretty serious if you ask me. Some of them probably should be out there in Thomas [the psychiatric hospital] not in here. But there are others in here that just line up, they get in the line to get any kind of pills they can. I can’t understand them, and really, I’m not sure they all need them.

Jean credited her own continued “normal” state of being as based on working, staying busy, and keeping in tune with the outside world and her close relationships. She did sometimes wonder how she maintained her mental stability despite all that had happened to her.

Reinforcing her normality, Jean spoke of the rehabilitation program nicknamed “Cog Skills” in which several of the other women in this research avoided attending because they would not admit to their crime. Like Sarah, Jean mentioned that every woman incarcerated for a violent crime must complete cog skills in order to become eligible for parole. Jean explained: “I was told by staff about two years ago that I would not need the group; and not to worry about it, I was doing fine. I’ve never done it and it looks like I won’t be doing it either.” On the other hand, she spoke about her two years in remand where some women were “falling apart” or seeing psychologists and psychiatrists and others were taken to psychiatric hospitals: 192

You know, I am emotional and I do get upset at times. But, I deal with it; you just have to in here. I stay busy … I work and I keep my mind busy. If you sit around and chat and gossip and think a lot, you come unglued like the girls in remand did. Ten years and I’m still pretty normal [smirks], not bad when you compare that to some of the other girls in here.

Jean further communicated her antidote to mental illness. She explained:

Seriously, when you come to think about it, because I get up and work seven days, I don’t have enough time to sit around and think, gossip and get depressed. I usually look after the garden at the unit, cook meals, and have to do the washing when I get in from my jobs. If some of the other girls in here would do more work, to help themselves … maybe this would help a lot of them; especially those who go for counselling and line up for the pills, and the girls who seem to hurt themselves to get some attention.

Given that pathology plays a prominent role in violent women offending, Jean spoke about how she was initially suspected of having an alcohol or drug problem by referring to the “cookie cutter” approach of one size fits all: “Everyone gets cog skills and drug counselling whether you need it or not.” She continued:

It’s like they automatically go there, they point the finger at you, and without real proof … they ask you all about your drinking habits and taking drugs. I have never used a drug; I don’t take drugs and I’ve had a rare drink or two, but that’s it. But here they are trying to fit you into a drug and alcohol group. Why waste their time and money? If you don’t take the stuff, why do the program?

Although Jean’s comment ran parallel to Claire’s report of a similar experience, this approach to rehabilitating incarcerated women is deemed understandable when considering the high correlation between those who violently offend in relation to drug and alcohol abuse. Essentially, prison administrators focus on substance abuse treatment given the inherent assumption that drug and alcohol involvement is the expectation, not the exception. 193

Jean’s identity as a murderer stood as an absolute insult to her sense of self that has seemingly dissipated over the years. As cited earlier, she realised she had to stop the anger and bitterness and move on, rejecting also the identity of mentally ill: “Some women in here use this as an excuse, that they’ve got something wrong with them, you know mentally.” She repeatedly referred to herself as being normal and not in need of any counselling. Her adamant denial of any need for counseling or rehabilitation could be resistance with regard to questioning her own mental state. In addition, it can be speculated that being busy was simply an effort to avoid thinking about her alleged crime. Finally, she may have recognised that mental illness is an explanation for a woman who kills and therefore believed she needed to distance herself from this perception.

5.9 The Court’s Perspective Jean’s sentencing and appeals documents read very differently from the four women’s narratives (i.e., Bella, Lil, Wendy, & Sarah) presented in Chapter Four. Specifically, Jean’s trial was monopolised by case law as she declared: “No body, no weapon, no witness.” Therefore, this case posed a unique legal challenge among the three women who plead not guilty since the other two women were implicated their accomplices. For Jean, the court did not resort to overarching narratives of victimisation, pathologisation or evilness but rather depicted Jean’s behaviour as foolish and selfish.

The prosecution’s narrative depicted Jean as a jealous woman who had a tumultuous sexual affair with a boyfriend:

Without warning, [the boyfriend] moved out and became a boarder with a female friend [the victim]. He never told [Jean] the address, but he had the girlfriend’s phone number on her business card which was in his wallet.

The court continued to document a series of events that portrayed Jean as a jealous woman who would harass the girlfriend and disrupt the relationship. The victim had a silent number to which Jean “made several nuisance phone calls.” Upon filing a charge against Jean for harassment and stalking, the victim stated that “she came to know the voice of …. .”

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On another occasion, the boyfriend was in bed with the victim behind locked doors. Allegedly, the victim got up to use the bathroom but came back to tell her boyfriend that Jean was in the lounge room, at which point he got up and saw Jean standing there. Supposedly, Jean wanted to talk with the boyfriend but he left instead by climbing over the back fence and staying the night with a friend to avoid being further “harassed.” As noted in the court records on this occasion, the police arrived, but no charges were filed. Jean left the premises but: “… later returned to the house and the two women spoke in the garden. The [victim] … was looking for [the boyfriend] and after [the victim] went inside, [Jean] kept knocking on the door.”

The prosecution sought to further define Jean through her jealousy and inappropriate behaviours. On one occasion: “The [victim] was drinking with [the boyfriend] at the … hotel when [Jean] approached him and asked him to return and live with her.” An incident a few months later found: “[the boyfriend] was drinking with friends when [Jean] approached him and asked him to come back and live with her and then continued a dispute over money.” Shortly following this incident: “[the boyfriend] was staying the night at the apartment of the deceased. The porch light was on, there was a knocking at the door, and [the boyfriend] could see through the window that it was Jean.”

The two court documents appeared intent on establishing Jean’s erratic and inappropriate relationship with the boyfriend and the victim thus establishing a motive which introduced a host of forensic evidence linking Jean to the murder. Basically, the court reported little of Jean’s larger life and experiences apart from references to her housekeeping work and status as a mother. Unlike Bella, Lil, Wendy, and Sarah whose life experiences were more fully recorded in Chapter Four, no medico-legal, psychiatric and psychological court documents were cited in Jean’s case. The prosecutor and sentencing judge depicted her as a woman engaged in a turbulent four year relationship whose jealousy lead to a calculated murder.

5.10 Summarisation of Jean In summary, Jean currently identifies herself as a good mother and a diligent worker with no prior criminal charges who stands falsely accused and convicted of murder. This identity has continued to define her across the past ten years. She maintains that she is a “normal” 195 woman who has never experienced mental health or substance abuse problems, and her formula to ward off such issues and any of life’s turmoil is to stay busy and work hard.

Jean’s identity as a hard worker and a woman who bought and paid for her own home and helped support her adult sons is captured in her narratives. Jean believes that she has now moved beyond the bitterness and anger that she felt during her first couple of years in prison, and served her time well and will be released in a few years to return to her home and industrious ways. Jean spoke of the victimisation as a “bad chapter out of her book of life,” but she has hope for the future. Her master identity is that of a hardworking and caring woman as befitting the frame of normative femininity.

Conversely, the court’s depiction saw little relevance in Jean’s larger life and focused on the events leading up to the crime. Based on the women’s cases in Chapter Four, if Jean had acknowledged the murder, there would have been more emphasis placed upon explanations for her offending behaviour from within the narratives of mad, bad and victim. Jean was thus not afforded the customary considerations of a woman who accepts her offending. The court was driven to establish motive and guilt at the expense of examining the complexities of her life.

5.11 Jennifer: “It’s complex: It’s very complex” Jennifer was born and raised in Egypt where she grew up in a large loving and caring Muslim family. She had an arranged marriage to the victim, her husband who was also of Egyptian descent, and who had been residing in Australia for several years when they first met. After travelling back to Egypt, he and Jennifer had a customary introduction and married in accordance with tradition. Six months following their marriage, Jennifer immigrated to Australia to live in her husband’s home.

Jennifer and her male co-defendant, who was her brother-in-law, were found guilty of the murder of her husband. At the time of the murder she was 36 years old. The victim was discovered burnt to death in his car. Jennifer argued that the victim committed suicide. Her defense argued that she was held captive to a mid-Eastern culture and community in which the deceased was able to physically and sexually violate her, leaving her little recourse. However, the prosecution contended that Jennifer and her co-defendant were having an affair. 196

The court determined Jennifer had accumulated significant amounts of sedating medication which she allegedly placed in the victims’ last meal. Her co-defendant proceeded to follow the victim to a location, dosed the victim’s car with petrol, set it alight leaving the victim to die. The judge claimed: “Yours was not a crime of passion committed on the spur of the moment, it was a cold blooded premeditated murder.” Jennifer and her co-defendant received a sentence of 21 years with a minimum of 16 years before eligible for parole.

Jennifer shared that although she had a difficult time in transitioning to the western culture, there were several Egyptian families living in her neighbourhood which helped her adjust to her new life. After she left the immediate area, however, her language and the city’s enormity became a challenge. Due to alleged financial necessity, Jennifer sought employment and was forced to work in numerous suburbs away from her family home. In speaking about the long commute to a commercial cleaning company, she described the work as being “very hard.” In addition, Jennifer had to contend with her husband’s extended family residing in their home in which she expressed that much tension existed. The mother of two children, a boy and a girl, Jennifer was 38 years old when convicted of murder.

To reiterate, this research was not conducted to address a specific crime or motive. It is however, helpful to set the context in which Jennifer was convicted of murder. Essentially, Jennifer was romantically involved with her brother-in-law, an accomplice who was charged with the actual act of murder. Jennifer’s criminal role included planning the murder in which she allegedly obtained sedating medication that she administered to her husband before he left home whereupon her brother-in-law intercepted the victim and proceeded to murder him. Throughout the interviews, Jennifer never refuted involvement in the crime yet felt compelled to point out that she was not ultimately responsible for the murder. Her reoccurring phrase was “its complex,” a complexity fuelled by the misrepresentation of her by the media and the courts.

The ambivalence regarding Jennifer’s full or partial responsibility is a key point that serves to lessen or worsen a woman’s depiction as a violent offender with full responsibility having a greater assault on the normative frame of femininity. Although only a small body of literature exists about women who violently offend and/or kill with male co-defendants, they have typically been found to play a secondary role through drug related crimes and robberies 197

(see Adler, 1975; Ward, Jackson, & Ward, 1979) and where a murder subsequently occurs. Criminologists, including Ward et al., (1979), challenged such assertions which stereotypically portray the woman as being coerced by her involvement with domineering and controlling men (Alarid, Marquart, Burton, Cullen, & Cuvelier, 1996). For example, Welle and Falkin (2000) identified two reasons for women to commit a violent crime with a male co-offender as the romantic and non-romantic hypotheses. While the romantic hypothesis is based on vulnerabilities and manipulation in one’s relational dynamics, the non- romantic hypothesis is grounded in a relationship in which the woman is abused or threatened to participate.

Jennifer began our discussions by defending herself as a good wife and loving mother, identities she believed were both assaulted by the media as well as the court. Because normative femininity largely informed her identity, she was particularly angered at the media’s representation and spoke at length regarding their slander of her character. Jennifer argues:

I was seen as an animal, as evil, as a cold blooded killer. They see me as this bitch, this terrible person, who didn’t care about my kids and my family. They said I only cared about myself. I am a normal person … a normal person. I am a mother who is suffering to see her kids. They don’t tell you the truth. They do not know what is the truth!

As discussed in Chapter Four, Bella, Wendy, and Sarah also grappled with media portrayals of their violent offending and portrayal as evil and bad. Like Bella, Jennifer concluded that the media does not tell the whole story.

You see, I was painted as a sly and wicked woman. The media did this to me. When I first got here, other prisoners kept shoving newspaper articles about me under my door. Lies, just awful lies … and this is what they know and think about me. They don’t know me; they don’t know what happened to me. They read the paper … and the media does not know me, it lies.

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5.12 Domesticity Among the married women who had children, Jennifer made the least comments about her role and identity as the mother of two. However, there were a few occasions when she spoke of how she missed and worried about them: “I miss them very much. I want to be there to care for them and cook for them and watch them grow, but I am here … how can I be a good mother when I live here?” Jennifer also became somewhat emotional when describing the guilt she felt for being unavailable to her children, and feared that in light of the murder charge and media stories, that she would lose all rights to her children:

I saw this male psychologist the prison sent me to. I did not want to tell this man, a stranger … my personal things, no. But, I was really worried that if I was irrational or if he called me crazy, that I would lose custody of my children. So, I never really said what I was thinking … and feeling like. It was hard to talk to a man about my feelings and problems; it was very hard and very uncomfortable for me.

Jennifer shared her identity extensively as a wife as well as her relationship with her extended family. Arguably, she was combating the assaults on her identity as a good and faithful wife. She commented:

I knew this man [the victim] for only three weeks, and then we get married. I left everything, everything … I left a loving home and family. My custom is that I must honour and support his family. My mother-in-law, she lived with us and his other family was always coming and going. I worked hard all day, and I come home tired and had to cook for the whole family and serve them … and I ate when they were finished. I have to do all of this … I was a good wife. All the housework was mine, I had to do this to keep my husband happy … I had to wait on his mother.

Jennifer expressed her struggle to adhere to her cultural domesticity dictates while also being expected to step outside of her comfort zone and engage in the western culture. She stated:

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Each morning I take all these buses to get to work and work hard all day … and then I come home to be abused by him and his family. He had a good job, but I work to help pay for his family who was coming and going. I had to work. He was paying to bring his brother and his family to Australia. He was helping to pay for his brother’s education. I had no say, I had no right, and I just go to work and come home and work to keep him happy.

I give up my family and home, my culture … to suffer abuse by his family. But, this is what is expected. People in the community, they talk about you if you do not follow custom. You cannot talk to anyone at the church, the doctor, or anyone about things, because it comes back to you. This happened all the time to me. I did not know who you trust, I did not know.

Jennifer described her relationship with her children as one of tenderness that brought her the most joy and satisfaction. She wanted to be known as a devoted wife to her husband and his family. However, she acknowledged how the marital and extended familial relationships were deceptive to those looking in from the outside:

My husband was made out to be perfect. His co-workers and his family, they all testified to his goodness and faithfulness. No one said anything bad about him, no one … and look what they do to me [raises her voice]. They do not tell you the truth!

5.13 Victimisation During the interviews, Jennifer divulged that her husband was an abusive man, a long time secret she had kept to herself: “He would come home and demand sex every night. It did not matter how tired I was or I did not want to do this, he made me … wives in my culture have to do this.” Essentially, Jennifer was depicting Russell’s (1990) description of marital rape. She attempted to discuss this with her female physician, also a Muslim woman: “But … [her physician] would not say much and just listened to me; she knows this is the way it is … and there was nothing she could do about it.” Jennifer further relayed her entrapment to a cultural mandate and a community that condones such acts by claiming: “I could not go to the police, no! They would not do anything. I had this fear in my heart; it would all come back to me. I 200 was trapped.” Jennifer also alluded to her husband’s verbal and physical abuse and argued:

They all saw him outside the home. They said he was good a man … and no one knew what I was going through. No one saw him slapping me or heard him screaming and yelling at me, no one heard. Maybe the neighbours did hear him, but like I said, they cannot do anything; it is in our culture to obey my husband.

She stated that she wanted to file a police report on numerous occasions:

I go and tell my in-laws my problem, I tell them many times what was happening; I believe they knew what was happening to me. I tell them I am going to call the police and they talk me out of it, they stop me. I regret now that I did not call the police.

In a study conducted by Ajzenstadt (2009) pertaining to Israeli and Arabic women who violently offend, it was found that Arabic women who perpetrated violence, especially towards a husband or family member, were met with more aberrance and cultural abjection that carried a heavier burden of guilt and shame than an Israeli offender. Jennifer’s alleged acts violated not only a western frame of femininity but also the cultural frame of domesticity. As such, she sought to balance out and explain her experience even though neither the court nor the media referenced her entrapment and victimisation. She asserted:

I want people to know the whole story. It’s complex; its complex … it is hard to explain this, you need to know the whole story. They see a wonderful man, a father who loves his family, and me … they see as an evil bitch … this is what was told. They did not tell everyone what my life was like, no, no one really knows except me. No one asked me for the truth.

In this research, all of the women were asked about their thoughts with regard to the victim and offender dichotomy. Jennifer spoke of how the prison demands a woman to show remorse and to accept responsibility for her life and crime, a betrayal yet a lie that must be lived with. She claimed: 201

I have never spoken about the abuse to anyone … the psychologists and staff here they would see it as an excuse. That is why we hate the cog skills group … we all have to go and do it. This group forces you to talk about what you did … who you hurt and to show remorse. We are not allowed to be victims in here, but some of us are.

Jennifer’s perceptions and experiences ran counter to those of Bella, Lil, and Sarah who were encouraged to embrace their victimhood. For example, Bella rejected the victim identity in favour of accepting responsibility for her offending and sought to distance herself from inmates who would lean on their victimisations. On the other hand, Lil and Sarah were able to incorporate victimisation into their identities. Interestingly, the three women who denied their offending are the same women who were not afforded a victim identity. Their claims were never espoused within the courtroom.

The theme of criminal justice system victimisation was also prominent within Jennifer’s narrative. Specifically, being held at the mercy of an over-taxed and seemingly insensitive justice system speaks volumes to a woman’s self-worth and societal values. The criminal justice system can victimise women offenders by labelling them as criminals, and determining their innocence or guilt which will dictate their future. In Jennifer’s case, her depiction was blemished with what she termed as inadequate information and unsympathetic handling. Jennifer as well as Lil buffered their contentions by recognising that the system has inherent flaws, and they were both careful not to criticise the jury or judge. In particular, Jennifer unleashed several scenarios: “I felt abused, really abused.” She continued:

I asked my lawyer when I went for bail; I ask him … Do you think I will get bail, what’s the chance? Do you know what he said to me? It depends on the man behind the bench; if he had a good day … you are lucky. If he had a bad day, then you have bad luck. So it means if he had a good night with his wife or if she kicked him out of bed, he’ll be putting this on me. I mean it’s not only my lawyer, I hear this from everybody. I hear it from the officers in here before a hearing; they say “good luck.”

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Jennifer related that such commonly heard comments convinced her that she was being treated as guilty due to her characterisation by the media. Once again, the women had little connection and time to spend with their public defenders. In Jennifer’s opinion, she believed that this accounted for why her claims of victimisation by the deceased were glossed over and never presented during her hearing. Another assault felt was based on the unavailability of Jennifer’s legal counsel: “It’s like a few days before the trial and I get like 45 minutes to talk with them. The public system doesn’t give you time and good counsel.” Along with the majority of the other women in my study, Jennifer firmly believed that private counsel would have resulted in more favourable outcomes. She commented:

Private legal help is expensive. Many women have to use legal aid however it does not tell who we are, it does not help us. Money talks … it helps you get the best legal team … and you probably get a lenient sentence or you get none at all.

According to Jennifer, her problems with the criminal justice system have continued over the past four years since her failed appeal. As she related, however, the lingering problem has centred on marital assets and most importantly her concern with her two children’s well- being who were presently residing with friends. This situation angered her as identified in the following:

The fate of my children are in the hands of the public lawyer … and I wait months to have them contact me. Nothing! I think they do this as they see me as an unfit mother and this irrational woman, it is not right! Nothing should take so long and be so hard. It’s like I said, if I had money, I would have this behind me, but all I can do is hope and trust it will work out for me.

5.14 Ashamed In defining herself as a shunned woman, Jennifer stated: “You know the whole community talks about me. My brother and sister-in-law who bullied me … and my children have told me they are happy, I am here where I belong. This hurts me.” She continued to speak of how the shame is such that she can never return to her community:

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The community… they will always, always want to judge me, now. I have this criminal record and they will never allow me to overcome this. I feel they do not want me back, ever. This is so sad for me now, where do I go? Who will give me a chance? Who will be there for me?

This shame carried over into her treatment, she commented:

A lot of the staff are men here … a lot of men. I cannot sit down and talk with a male psychologist or doctor. I cannot do this. Because of my accusers and what they said about me, the lies … I can’t practice my faith here. They will not allow this, I am a trapped woman.

Some women who are violent will leave here and go home to their cities and friends and family; they will go to their home and people who love them. They will be forgiven, no more fear for them. What they did is in the past, it is in the past behind them. I can never do this as a Muslim woman. I will always be a marked woman.

5.15 Not Like Them While all seven women in this research were deemed to be criminal and violent, they all sought to distance themselves from this identity. One way to do this was to detach themselves from the violent young female repeat offenders and there are remarkably similar analogies used by all of the women to separate themselves from the “younger repeat offenders.” Jennifer explains:

The big difference between the long termers and short termers is that we will never be back. We are not violent like they can be. Some made a mistake, but do not reoffend and come back here. I know you will never see us again, women like me back in this place.

As discussed earlier, Jennifer, like the other women in my study, spoke about a cycle of crime and violence: “There are drinkers and drugs and you see … what makes it hard there is no place in the community for them. If the prison was rehabilitating them, they would not 204 keep coming back here, would they?” Jennifer further described the scenario: “You see, for them, it is food and shelter, and they have security that they do not have out there because they are unwanted.” At this moment, Jennifer appeared to recognise that her life somehow mimicked the repeat offenders in that she too had no community or home to welcome her back. However, she did not share in their violent identities which she firmly sought to establish during all of our interviews.

5.16 Court Narrative Court records that were gathered from Jennifer’s initial sentencing and appeal documents delved a little deeper into her personal struggles when compared to those of Claire and Jean’s. Namely, the court pointed out that Jennifer struggled academically and failed to complete her education. The court also acknowledged the stressful family dynamics that impacted on her life with particular attention directed toward her limited command of the English language and the challenges this posed.

The court’s first attempt at establishing Jennifer’s identity was by introducing her relationship to the alleged accomplice in the murder, the brother-in-law who Jennifer never mentioned in her narratives. The court began by submitting evidence from neighbours that they frequently saw Jennifer and her accomplice being “romantically involved.” For example, one neighbour testified that: “ … and [Jennifer] would walk arm in arm and kissing and that she never saw Jennifer and the deceased behaving in such a manner.”

The same neighbour commented: “A few weeks before the murder I was talking to [Jennifer] and she said her and her husband had a big argument and that the husband asked his mother whether he could divorce her.” Upon further questioning, the neighbour testified that before the co-accomplice arrived at their home: “Jennifer and the deceased appeared to be very happy, but that changed after his arrival.” In addition, the court submitted testimony from employees in the cleaning business who worked with Jennifer and her co-accomplice. According to one co-worker: “They acted like a couple of newlyweds, always holding hands and always together.”

To further accentuate the nature of the relationship between Jennifer and her brother-in-law, the court introduced proof that she was not only sexually involved with him but had evidence 205 that an abortion had been performed identifying the co-accomplice as the biological father. According to the court documents, Jennifer was allegedly having a very public romantic relationship with her deceased husband’s brother. The court also established that Jennifer appeared to be happily married and there was no evidence to suggest otherwise, until her accomplice arrived.

Having determined that Jennifer was engaged in an openly intimate relationship with her accomplice, the prosecution sought to portray her as a woman who wanted to get her husband out of her life by carefully plotting his demise over several months with the help of her accomplice. It was alleged that she methodically obtained medications for feigned anxiety and sleeping disorders in order to sedate her husband and proceed with his murder. In closing arguments, the prosecution described Jennifer and her accomplice’s behaviour as appalling. The murder involved Jennifer placing sedating medication in her husband’s food and drink at the evening meal and then sending him out to the car. The accomplice waited until the victim had passed out at the wheel, drove to his car, doused the victim and car with petrol, and then ignited it. In the sentencing phase, the judge addressed Jennifer and the co- accomplice together and then independently:

It is hoped that the drugs which he had ingested in some ways diminished what would otherwise have been the excruciating pain of incineration in a fire accelerated by the use of petrol. The two of you chose a horrendous method indeed to carry out this wicked crime. You must be sentenced for the cold blooded murderers that you are.

In contrast, Jennifer argued that her husband’s death was a suicide attempt. Nevertheless, the court brought forth a number of witnesses to attest to the victim’s demeanor in which he was overwhelmingly described as an upbeat, happy, and pleasant man with an impeccable work ethic and no history of depression. In trying to understand Jennifer’s rationale for the murder, the judge established a motive and further identified Jennifer as unfeminine, evil, and wicked woman:

Your counsel described your relationship with … your brother-in-law as inducing a state of infatuation which overcame reason. Whilst this may 206

provide some explanation of your actions, it in no way excuses them. This was not a crime of passion committed on the spur of the moment. It was a carefully calculated, premeditative, cold blooded murder.

Perhaps the most damning statement lay in the judge’s reference to the larger community’s reaction to her crime: “Finally, the court must express the community’s denunciation of this most wicked of crimes.”

The court’s brief identity of Jennifer sought to systematically tear down the self-identity that she had built by casting doubt on any victimisation by her husband. Rather than portraying Jennifer as a faithful wife and partner, the court established that she was having a sexual affair with her brother-in-law. In the judge’s sentencing comments, he alluded to how Jennifer’s offense would impact on her children and noted his misgivings concerning her status as a good mother: “If your children have returned to Egypt or do so in the near future, you will be deprived of such consolation of having your family near.”

The court did not seek a medico-legal expert opinion that would rule out any explanation of pathology. Although Jennifer had, in fact, seen her primary care physician for sleep and depression problems, these issues were neither recognised nor pursued. In other words, pathology and victimisation were not considered; rather, the court opted to rely on Jennifer being bad, evil, and willing, citing references to Jennifer’s “wicked, evil, and horrendous” behaviour. The court therefore framed her as a selfish woman who planned and brutally murdered her husband. In addition, the court highlighted Jennifer’s betrayal of her husband in such an openly and flamboyant manner in which the crime was shocking and “denounced by the community.”

The court did lend some sensitivity to Jennifer’s cultural and personal problems by employing the discourse of domesticity:

Your principal function in the family was as a homemaker. You provided the primary care for your two children and looked after the household which included not only your immediate family and your co-offender and also your mother in law from time to time. 207

The court also called attention to some of Jennifer’s past and current health problems. Jennifer addressed her handicaps as an “Egyptian woman” in a western culture and a prison where she is the sole inmate of Egyptian descent. The court reinforced her comments: “Because of your limited grasp of English, you will experience added difficulties in prison by reason of cultural and language differences. Although these may well diminish with passing years … .” Understandable was the judge’s assumption that Jennifer would acculturate within the prison in time, and the language barrier would lessen. Interestingly, this was what Jennifer feared the most, losing her true identity as an Egyptian woman.

5.17 Summarisation of Jennifer In Jennifer’s interviews she never made reference to the murder, and there were no questions asked in an attempt to direct the conversation towards the crime. In fact, her victimisation by the courts and through her incarceration monopolised her conversations. She did, however, also identify herself as being victimised by a culture and community saturated in patriarchy which entrapped her into a hostile and secretive environment. In terms of sexual and emotional abuse by her husband, this was not substantiated by the court and evidence was, in fact, presented to the contrary. This is not said to discredit Jennifer’s narrative but rather to suggest that she reached for a discourse in which she was familiar. For example, Heidensohn (1994) proclaimed that victimisation gives women who kill a language and a means in which to assert themselves.

Jennifer also identified with normative femininity particularly through the identity of motherhood and domesticity by sharing that she was deferential towards her husband and his extended family according to cultural dictates. She provided numerous examples of where she placed her husband and mother-in-law’s needs before her own, an expectation of her culture’s social frame for a wife and one in which she seemingly adhered to although increasingly begrudgingly. Jennifer’s identity as a mother was echoed through her continued concerns and efforts to assist the children: “Not being with my children is my greatest sorrow.”

As a Muslim woman, Jennifer’s identity appeared to be threatened when she spoke of being cast out of her community and how the prison had also discriminated against her cultural beliefs. As an example, she addressed the prominence of male staff that practiced what she 208 considered to be unwanted and unnecessary strip searches. In addition, she claimed that her religious needs had been neglected and had since sought solace in a Catholic nun: “This is not a place for a Muslim woman, like me.” Jennifer mentioned the fact that there were no Egyptian - Arabic speaking inmates or staff and that she was fearful of losing her dialect: “I am forgetting how to write in Arabic.” Underlying her concerns and fears, she referred to her “exile.” She expressed: “I am a woman now without a home and without a family. I’m becoming less Egyptian and I’m not sure where I will fit one day, how I will feel.”

After several hours of interviews, Jennifer’s narratives revealed a number of themes pertaining to her identity. First, her master identity is presented as that of a victim and her victimisation was to be found in her marriage, her legal proceedings, and her incarceration. Second, she perceives of herself as a loyal wife and devoted mother, and finally, she believes that she has been discriminated against as an ethnic minority living in a western culture.

Jennifer also described herself as being overwhelmingly sad and depressed and in need of professional counselling. As discussed earlier, however, she avoids seeing a psychologist or psychiatrist because she doesn’t want to be labelled as mentally ill or irrational, for fear she will not be able to see or regain custody of her children. Jennifer added that her life is characterised by fear: “I used to be a strong woman, but now I am full of fears.” One of her most emotional comments was: “I think I am becoming institutionalised, yes … and it is getting worse.” All of the seven women in my study were asked: “How do you see yourself today and the woman you were before entering the system?” In response to this question, Jennifer replied:

I was a happy young woman in Egypt with a family who loved me very much … and it all changed … it all changed, it went wrong… when I had to marry him and move to this country. I don’t think my life will ever be happy, never be happy, ever again.

5.18 Conclusion The narratives of the three women in this chapter were monopolised by their victimisations. The victimisations included marital rape for Claire and Jennifer who also spoke of her 209 victimisations in relation to cultural dictates. However, all three positioned victimisation by the criminal justice as their primary source of victimisation. All three women maintain their innocence and voiced how the system designated as their protector became their abuser.

Jennifer and Claire maintain a master identity as victims. Jean began her narrative with establishing her innocence and the court’s injustice towards her. She further relayed how she was consumed with anger and bitterness during her first few years following her conviction. However, she shed that master identity in favour of an identity as industrious and nurturing woman. Jean’s narrative was monopolised by her work ethic and healthy relationships with other inmates, prison staff and friends and family. Additionally, she is the only woman among the seven that convincingly conveys optimism for the future.

The women who denied offending embrace the victim discourse. As innocent women falsely charged, the victimisation discourse may serve as the only available social discourse to them. As innocent women, there was not a recognised need to establish themselves as good women or to combat a deviant label. However, the women in Chapter Four who acknowledged their offending were presented with a different task. In order to establish a favourable identity they sought to first depict themselves as good women in accordance with the discourse of normative femininity. Identities as good mothers and nurturers were paramount to combat labels of bad and evil. They acknowledged their victimisations in relation to the criminal justice system. However, this identity did not arise to the level of a master identity for the women who maintained their innocence and occupied far less of their narratives. The most obvious distinction between the two groups of women lies in the pleas itself. The women, who acknowledged their offending, offered rationales for their offending and had to counter that combination of acting both against the law and their nature.

Interestingly, the sentencing documents portrayed the women in this chapter in a similar vein as the women in Chapter Four. The court argued that Jean killed urged on by her jealousy. It was determined that Claire stood to receive nearly one million dollars in life insurance. The judge and prosecution established greed as the motive. The motive was enhanced when in the testimony of the two alleged accomplices, it was communicated that Claire had engaged the two accomplices in two previous attempts at her husband’s life. According to the court, Jennifer was determined to be driven by her torrid affair with her brother in law and the 210 desire to have her husband removed from the landscape of her life. The court countered Claire’s and Jennifer’s accounts of their marital rape and thereby would not afford them victimisation. The court did acknowledge Jennifer’s struggles related to her cultural mandates. Interestingly, the court did not rely on the medico-legal experts as they did in the case of all four women in Chapter Four.

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Chapter Six: Analysis

6.1 Introduction There are inherent challenges in presenting an enormous amount of qualitative data into a succinct, rational, and appealing account. For example, Chapters Four and Five contain over 100 pages of narrative. One such challenge is to avoid the tendency to simply paraphrase, rather than interpret and attempt to make sense of the data. As a result, any straightforward accounting of the data will fall short of an analysis. Additionally, this thesis deals with subjectivities in identity formation and self-perceptions which are not readily quantifiable. This chapter presents the analysis of the data as derived from the two data chapters with respect to the research question and sub-questions.

Research Question: Which social discourses dominate in the identity formation of women incarcerated with murder convictions?

Sub-Questions:  Will there be a resonance between the stories told about the women in court and their own stories regarding their lives and offending behaviours?  Are there key differences between women who acknowledge their criminality and those who deny their violent behaviour and the discourses with which they identify?  Will one discourse dominate in the women’s identity construction?

What follows are the interpretation, analysis, and synthesis of the data. The interpretations seek to attribute meaning to the spoken narratives of the seven women. The analysis is the process of fleshing out the themes, trends, and patterns. The analysis further requires consideration of what was discovered in relation to what was expected to be realised. In the analysis, also presented is what stood out as well as what served as a surprise. Lastly, in the synthesis, is the attempt to answer the research and sub-questions with the goal to arrive at conclusions and further understandings with supporting evidence.

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6.2 Hidden Identities It is necessary to establish a critical issue before engaging the actual themes arising from the narratives. A review of the literature contained only one feminist criminological study that specifically pursued the identity construction of women who perpetrated violence (Comack & Brickey, 2007). Most of the cited studies focused upon the motives and characteristics leading to the offense with an occasional reference to some aspect of identity. The samples utilised in existing studies were found to be heavily weighted towards women whose violence was related to their victimisation. For example, many of the subjects who perpetrated violence were themselves victims of intimate partner violence. The samples were further characterised with women who were marginalised within their homelessness or status as prostitutes. Some of the studies referenced in the literature review, consisted of samples that did not include any homicide offenders. Other studies revealed homicide offenders were dispersed among other acts of violence to include behaviours such as slapping, kicking, and striking with closed fists.

The seven women in my study are a unique sample in other respects. As cited earlier, four of the seven consist of the “other third” of women who kill; those that murder outside the realm of a violent intimate relationship or the killing of their child. This is the group of women offenders of which we know very little. The following analysis also pursues a seldom researched topic of identity construction, with a rarely studied group of women who are incarcerated for convictions of murder. Since my study includes scant existing literature with a similar sample or focus from which to compare and contrast, these unique features are necessary to reinforce. Assumedly, the identity construction for a woman on probation for slapping and shoving or even attempted homicide will be different to that of the incarcerated woman convicted of murder.

6.2.1 Identity Construction: Beginning from a Difficult Position There are several theories of identity construction that serve to guide the analysis (see Blumer, 1969). Symbolic interaction theory, for example, suggests that identities are moulded by how we believe others perceive us and Erikson’s (1968) identity theory reinforces the importance of how we believe others view us in the construction of our own self-concept. Hughes (1945) also established that some identities serve as master identities which overshadow lesser identities. Similarly, labelling theory via the work of Mead (1934) 213 is also relevant since she argued that certain labels are to be coveted while others are to be rejected. Finally, Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) research on violent women offenders suggests that these women have troubled identities, and their goal is to negotiate a favourable identity.

A critical notion for understanding the identity construction of women has to do with the importance of relationships. Feminist psychologist Carol Gilligan (1982) has written extensively regarding the identity development of women, and has highlighted the significance of relationships in women’s identity formation. She advocates that a web of interpersonal relationships is more essential to women than men who tend to be more comfortable with their individuality. One of the prevailing thoughts is that through socialisation, girls tend to identify with their relationally centred mothers. Further, Cross and Madson (1997) assert that girl’s relationships are characterised by cooperation within their intimate relationships whereas boys are more anchored in competition. Mann (1996) also suggests that the psychological well-being of girls and women is associated with close family relationships.

Arguably, the seven women offenders in my study began from a very difficult position in discussing their lives and identities. In addition to serving lengthy incarcerations, their convictions of murder implied they willfully took the life of another. All women have been clothed in these identities by those who sit in judgment of them, specifically the courts but also the media, family and friends and society more generally. As has been depicted throughout this analysis, there exist stock scripts and social discourses that strongly influence the identity formation of women who kill.

Those who have fallen the furthest among all violent women offenders are those that the courts claimed made rational choices to kill. They have been ascribed identities to be rejected (Mead, 1934), and further realise that they are perceived as bad or evil women who have sorely transgressed the boundaries of normative femininity. They have a far greater challenge in negotiating a favourable identity than most other violent female offenders. They are by conviction, murderers who are serving lengthy prison sentences. In my research, each woman was individually interviewed and seated in a small prison office next to a stranger and subject to prison staff passing by and gazing into the room. It was from this circumstance that seven women drew from their life’s experiences to inform me of who they are. 214

6.2.2 A Tale of Two Identities This analysis proposes that three master identities dominated the women’s narratives: victimisation, good mother and kind and nurturing woman as realised through the discourses of normative femininity, most specifically via the discourse of victimisation. Every woman acknowledged some features and measures of victimisation; however, some rejected victimisation as a master identity. What is demonstrated is how convincingly victimisation served as one of two major themes situated within the narratives of all the women. Briefly, victimisation was claimed through past relations of harm via child abuse as well as a context for the offending through intimate partner violence. Pathology was also embraced as another way in which women could claim the position of victimisation while injustice by the criminal justice system dominated the narratives of several of the women and served as a further way of deflecting the identity of violent offender via a claim to victimisation. All three of these victimisation experiences permeate the narratives.

6.3 Victimisations as Past Abuses It is well established that physical, sexual, and emotional abuse is prevalent in the histories of young girls and women who perpetrate homicide (Batchelor, 2005; Hoffman et al., 1998; Widom, 2000a). It is similarly well established that there is an association between childhood victimisation and the development of the subsequent psychopathologies such as posttraumatic stress disorder, mood disorders, and substance use disorders (American Psychiatric Association, 2000; International Classification of Mental and Behavioural Disorders, 2000). Both of these diagnostic manuals which guide western diagnostic representations cite childhood victimisations as significant risk factors for PTSD, depression, substance abuse and personality disorders, all of which are associated with women who kill. This association between child abuse and psychopathology is realised in three women, Bella, Lil, and Sarah who acknowledged childhood victimisations and experienced substance abuse, depression, and in Sarah’s case, a personality disorder.

Bella, Sarah, and Lil, had experienced childhood abuses ranging from sexual and physical to emotional abuse. Briefly, Bella endured sexual, physical, and emotional abuse; her father was alcoholic and a man whose home was marred with his violence. Sarah’s abuse was the more subtle emotional abuse. For example, her father would criticise her appearance, socially isolate her, and exercise absolute control over her life. Finally, Lil’s mother deserted 215 the family and moved in with a man who prohibited any contact between Lil and her mother for a number of critical developmental years of her life. Lil recalled that she felt responsible for the desertion as she believed she may not have been a good enough daughter. She claimed she was constantly ridiculed by her peers for not having a mother at home.

Within the court narratives, reference to childhood abuses is given careful attention. Within the narrative data, it is noted that the prison counselling staff also displayed an awareness of the women’s childhood abuses. According to Bella, Sarah, and Lil, the prison counsellors exercised consistent attempts for the three women to share these traumatic experiences and claim such identities. The court’s attention to childhood abuses and the counselling staff and chaplains persistent efforts to have the women engage their abuse, speaks to the significance relegated childhood abuse in the explanation for violent offending in women.

However, despite this, all three women rejected a victim identity in relation to their child abuse. Bella, whose abuse was arguably the most extensive and prolonged, was the most adamant in rejecting this as a master identity. She joked how every prison counselling session eventually arrived at the topic of her childhood abuses. Bella’s perception was that the prison counsellors seemed intent on her coming to terms with her abuse and its continued impact upon her life. Bella noted her standard response, which served to shift the topic, was simply not to engage her history of abuse. Sarah communicated similar experiences with prison counselling which seemed to gravitate to her father’s control and cruelty as well as her mother’s lack of attachment with her. Lil spoke of how prison counsellors as well as her private psychologist and psychiatrist would on occasion draw the relationship between her childhood abandonment experience and her depression and drinking. All three women experienced a concerted effort to assist them in adopting victimisation as a master identity in relation to their childhood abuses and to understand the connection between these life’s experiences, their psychopathologies, and their sense of self.

Each woman shared her resistance to this particular victim identity. Bella suggested that she had overcome this specific trauma. While she did not deny the experiences, providing detailed accounts of some incidents, she concluded: “Yeah it happened … you get over it … then you need to move on.” Lil ascribed to another rationale for rejecting the victim identity. In reflecting upon her mother’s abandonment, Lil shared that she does not believe she is a 216 victim of child abuse. Lil elaborated upon how counsellors informed her that parental abandonment was indeed neglect, but Lil seemed reluctant to consider her mother as neglectful. She did not believe that the abuse she experienced was significant enough to rise to the standard of victimisation. This was also found in Leisenring’s (2006) study of women who perpetrated violence in the context of intimate partner violence and who did not believe that their abuse was bad enough to position them as a victim. Leisenring (2006) concluded that each woman possessed their own standard for defining what constitutes violence and subsequent victimisation.

Sarah grappled more than the other two women to reconcile a relationship with a victim identity. She spoke extensively of the ambivalence she felt and continues to feel towards her father: “I hated him and yet, I relied on him comforting me. It’s like my anxiety and fear left when I saw that my father was involved with my lawyers.” However, she also demonstrated difficulty in this identity being foisted upon her as the only option - as her master identity. “A victim….it’s all about being a victim in here. Bad things happen to all of us and it’s not like it makes you a victim!”

As noted previously, and following Loeske (2003), victimhood is often only bequeathed when one is perceived as being worthy of sympathy. Interestingly it was Bella and Sarah’s murders which drew the most public outcry. Bella was accused of first maiming and then torturing her elderly victim before setting his home ablaze, while Sarah was vilified for killing a young girl. Both women were aware of the media and public’s absolute disdain of them. Given that identity formation is largely associated with how one believes others perceive them, and that Bella and Sarah were well aware of the social contempt for them, their rejection of a victim identity may be because they believe themselves undeserving of the sympathy associated with the master identity of victimisation.

6.3.1 Victimisation Identity as Realised Through Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) The victimisation experience most often associated with a woman who kills is that of intimate partner violence (Brookman, 2005). Within the majority of mainstream and feminist criminological research, intimate partner violence focuses attention on the motive and the offender’s relationship to the victim, as opposed to how the experience impacts on identity. It is significant that five of the seven women in this research were married and four 217 acknowledged intimate partner violence. It serves to inform us of the power of this discourse for women, both as an explanation for their offending and in the shaping of their identity.

As discussed in Chapter Four, Bella was abused by her former husband to such a degree that she was treated at a local hospital for the injuries she sustained, some of which required stitches. Similarly, Jennifer claimed during her court proceedings that her husband had abused her both physically and sexually. Likewise, Claire informed the court that her husband demanded daily sex and on the day of the murder, she in fact, had planned to confront him regarding this issue. Furthermore, Wendy documented that her former husband abused her physically and emotionally for many years during their marriage.

Detailed within the data chapters are the court’s findings in relation to intimate partner violence acknowledged by the women. Although the abuse that Wendy and Bella suffered at the hands of their husbands was well established by the courts, Jennifer, Claire, and Bella’s abuse in relation to their victims was not confirmed by the court and rather was positioned as a fabrication. In fact, evidence introduced into court served to counter the stories of abuse alleged by all three women. The difference between their self-identity as a victim of abuse and the courts narrative that the abuse did not exist serves to inform their master identities.

Wendy’s and Bella’s victimisations were undoubtedly extensive. As noted, they both endured years of mistreatment in which Bella required hospitalisation and Wendy’s abuse rose to the level of a master identity. However, they dealt with this past experience in very different ways. Bella dismissed the intimate partner violence as an experience that defines her. While she related how the experience lead to depression and attempted suicide, this occurred years before the offence and does not define her: “I’ve put it behind me. Yes, I had the experiences, but it doesn’t define me. You just ‘move on,’ you can’t be a victim all of your life.” Bella defines herself as a survivor and approaches her victimisation as a tough experience that she was able to overcome. Similarly, while Claire’s narrative briefly addressed her husband’s sexual demands, they were not tied to her self-concept and identity.

In contrast, Wendy’s entire identity was defined by victimisation related to her experience of domestic violence at the hands of her victim as well as her subsequent treatment by the criminal justice system. In the same way, Jennifer related her marital rape and physical abuse 218 to a larger identity of victimisation that was intertwined with her cultural position as a Muslim woman.

Flemke (2009) and Wesely’s (2006), studies of women who perpetrated violence against their abuser found that the women readily identified themselves as victims. However they also spoke of their anger and rage at the time of their offending, and of reaching a tipping point where violence was the only option. Bella is the woman who has most strongly resisted the identity of a victim. She is adamant that she does not wish to be known as a victim and believes the victim identity is over worked by her peers. Like the women in Flemke’s (2009) and Wesely’s (2006) research, Bella spoke of how for months after her rape by the victim she ruminated over the humiliation and shame caused by it and that this finally yielded to anger and rage. She determined: “I was going to make him pay for what he did to me.” As with the women in the Flemke (2009) and Wesely (2006) studies, Bella had reached her tipping point and her acknowledgement of this diminishes her claim to victimisation.

6.3.2 Pathology as Victimisation In the literature, pathology or mental illness is consistently seen as associated with victimisation by attributing homicide by a woman to a deep seated disease of mind or body. For a number of decades, feminist criminologists have called our attention to the desire by the criminal justice system to pathologise the woman who kills (Carlen & Worrall, 1987; Chan, 2001, 2005; Wilczynski, 1997). When comparing depictions of men who kill with women who kill, Wilczynski (1997) argues for example, that men are deemed bad yet normal whereas women are posed as mad and abnormal. It is also argued that the pathologising of the woman who kills further victimises her by robbing her of the capacity to willingly kill (Morrissey, 2003).

Although open-ended questions were not submitted that specifically addressed pathologisation as a particular narrative or identity, all of the women in this research were asked if they considered murder to be a rational or an irrational act. Keeping in mind that four of the women acknowledged their offending and three argued for their innocence, the question was intentionally kept to the act of murder and not their act of violence. The question was prompted by Smart’s (1976) assertion that violent offending by men is often considered as a rational act, whereas similar violence committed by a woman is typically 219 deemed irrational. In support of this contention, two of the women had been subjected to the courts’ medico-legal experts and some women also had ongoing associations with either prison psychologists or psychiatric hospitalisations throughout their incarcerations.

Pathologisation was a familiar identity to the women in this research. Three of the women were diagnosed with mental illness - Lil had clinical depression and alcohol addiction, Sarah had a personality disorder, and Bella had experienced depression and drug addiction. During their court proceedings and in light of ongoing prison counselling, these diagnoses were well established. Claire, Wendy, and Jennifer have all been treated for depression during their incarcerations. Jean is the only woman who has not undergone any mental health intervention.

Sarah resisted the identity of mad the most vigorously of all of the women. In particular, she was outraged at the judge’s references to her possessing “a serious personality disorder.” Her indignation was twofold. First, “Who is he to be making a psychiatric diagnosis?” Second, she spoke at length regarding her difficulties in understanding a concept as vague as a personality disorder and was confused by the conflicting evidence and disagreement among medical experts in her case. Sarah spoke of how a personality disorder “doesn’t make sense.” She also considered this label as more derogatory than her current diagnosis of depression and was further upset with the poor prognosis associated with this disorder, “it was like this life sentence.”

Lil was in treatment prior to her offending for major depression. She suggested that depression was her primary problem and drinking was secondary. Her psychiatrist (who she met with monthly), and her psychologist (who she met with weekly), both offered testimony that substantiated her severe depression. Court appointed experts also confirmed Lil’s depression and alcohol abuse, however she has since discarded these identities. She spoke of her depression and drinking as being situational and a reaction to her grief at the loss of her grandmother and mother. Although Lil admitted that she has struggled with sadness during her incarceration, she equated this with a normal reaction to loss. In noting her continued struggles with sadness, she asserted: “I get depressed, but it’s not who I am you know.” Lil normalises her depression to avoid being identified as an irrational woman prone to mental illness. 220

Bella realised that her depression was extensive during her marriage which eventually resulted in a suicide attempt followed by several weeks of psychiatric hospitalisation. Although she spoke of her depression as being a past page in her life, she had, in fact, sought help for her drug addiction prior to committing the murder. Similar to her childhood victimisation, Bella approached the addiction as something she experienced but has since overcome. She further resented the frequent references to her addiction especially in light of its very short life span. In her estimation, the media and the court highlighted this behaviour well beyond its relevance to her offending or her identity.

Bella refused to identify with pathologisation or the mad discourse and claimed: “The mental health thing is used as an excuse by lots of the women in here for their crimes. They don’t want to take responsibility and hide behind their depression and drugs and things.”

Conversely, Wendy has embraced the pathology identity by defining herself as an old, tired, and depressed woman. Prior to her committing murder, she had no history of mental health interventions, but since entering custody, she has had continuous care. At one juncture, she made light of her annual visits to the psychiatric hospital for “a vacation.” In sharing her experiences, Wendy reflected that the depression she felt may be associated with the guilt she feels about her offending. More heart wrenching has been the rejection of her sons and her sister. Specifically, she spoke of her fears, anxieties, and sleeping disorder associated with the thought she may die before an opportunity for parole arrives. During my last meeting with Wendy, she tearfully stated: “I’m old and depressed and I think I’ll die in here.”

Assumedly, Wendy’s continued depression is related to Culbertson and Fortune’s (1986) finding that women serving long prison sentences tend to view themselves as simply objects and numbers. When combined with their sense of loss, this results in a felt expression of hopelessness and despair leading to depression for some. Wendy’s depression was not associated with her violent offending but she has been chronically depressed since incarceration for her offending.

Claire’s depression shares similar features. Prior to her court proceedings, for example, she had never used the services of a mental health professional. However, she eventually succumbed to depression which began during the litigation and climaxed following her 221 sentencing and incarceration. Her initial psychiatric hospitalisation of two months was due to severe depression. Claire had become despondent, stopped eating, and recalled having no energy.

Claire indicated that during her initial hospitalisation, a few weeks elapsed before she was able to communicate with staff in any meaningful manner. Eventually, she claims that she came to recognise her depression and that she had been depressed throughout her adult life: “I guess I always had depression and just tried to stay ahead of it, but finally, it caught up with me.” Interestingly, Claire does not define herself through her depression but rather spoke of it as it was explained to her, as a biological problem and something she has little control over. She believes that depression may have challenged her as a mother and in her professional life even though she was unaware of it at the time. By accessing a discourse of pathologisation Claire has sought to reconstruct her identity prior to her offending. While Claire has denied her charges, it is a possibility that she has engaged the idea of lifelong depression as a rationalisation for her offending. She spoke of the depression as something she couldn’t control, a disease that seemed to be there across her adult life. She has received continued treatment for depression since her offending and is arguably victimised by depression. It has also become a part of her identity.

The rejection of the mad discourse for some women who perpetrate violence is not well understood. One suggestion is that it is the stigma associated with mental illness which may deter identification with it. Geiger and Fischer (2005) found an outright rejection to references to insanity while Comack and Brickey (2007) also found that while the women in their research were prepared to acknowledge their struggles with depression, anxiety, and stress, being labelled as “disturbed” or crazy was strongly resisted (p. 16). References to crazy and insane appear far more offensive to an identity than to be known as depressed or anxious. In fact, Comack and Brickey (2007) contended that the mad identity was resisted with the same level of intensity as a “violent” woman identity.

In summary, the narratives suggest that some mental illness identities are more acceptable than others. Labels of an alcoholic, drug addict or in Sarah’s case a “severe personality disorder” were to be resisted. Lil minimised the extent of her drinking problem, but fully embraced her depression. Bella several times reminded me that her drug addiction occurred 222 late in and life and across just a couple of years. Six of the seven women in this research accepted that a mental illness was part of their prognosis but few accepted this as part of their ongoing identity, seeking to minimise its impact on their sense of self.

6.3.3 Victimisation Out of Context A number of the women discussed rape by their victim as either a feature of their lives or as an event leading up to their violent offending. From a feminist criminological perspective, Hegarty et al., (2000) advocates that rape inherently depicts an abuse of power and reminds us that rape can occur within the context of a marriage. Jennifer for example, chronicalled her husbands continued demands for sex and framed these demands within cultural expectations that she always be available to meet her husband’s needs. She spoke of how her occasional refusal resulted in his slapping her and throwing her around the bedroom. This abuse continued for several years and Jennifer acknowledged her immediate family was aware of this. However, Jennifer contends that within her Muslim household, this behaviour was not met with outrage, but a rather passive acceptance. Similarly, Claire reported that in the two to three years leading up to her murder conviction, her husband sought sexual relations increasingly more often and while he initially refrained from physical confrontation, over time, he became more forceful and she was forced to engage in unwanted sex. Claire described a pattern where her husband would arrive home unexpectedly and expect to have sex.

Finally, Bella described being raped by her victim at the time she had been his companion, as an arrangement made through a “call girl agency.” She repeatedly relayed her anger and disgust at this occurrence. Bella drew an analogy between the helplessness she felt when raped by her victim, the physical abuse by her former husband, and the rape by her neighbour when she was a child.

The court in each instance addressed the rapes. Among the three women, Bella’s case was the only one wherein the rape was associated with the motive for offending. However, the court submitted a range of evidence that served to counter Bella’s allegation of rape by the victim. Bella was enraged with the prosecution’s denial of her rape experience and was further victimised by a court that served to discount her experience. This rape is the experience which Bella embraced as a victim. She had been brutally assaulted by her former 223 husband, and emotionally, physically, and sexually abused as a child, however, Bella presented these as bad experiences that happen, which you get over and move on. In contrast, Bella was outraged both that the victim had raped her and that the court dismissed her experience.

As a Muslim woman confined to a family and community that turned a deaf ear to her problems Jennifer’s marital rape served as a further element of her larger victimisation identity. Jennifer, at one point, likened herself to a domestic and sex slave, who was forced to live in a foreign place and work to provide for her family and submit herself to a violent husband’s sexual desires.

In contrast, Claire’s marital rape defined her far less. Claire noted this experience but did not engage with it in our conversations. It was also cited very briefly within the sentencing and appeal records. A reading of the court transcripts records Claire’s depiction of her husband as a good man. It speaks of their partnership to raise the children. It further describes the relationship she maintained with her in-laws, which was described as supportive and one of warmth and closeness. None of this negates Claire’s claims to marital rape, as domestic violence is often a well maintained secret. However, the court positioned these findings in contrast to Claire’s claims of rape.

There are few explanations available to women convicted of murder, apart from the binary approach to the phenomenon wherein the woman is either a victim or offender (Banwell, 2010). Heidensohn (1994) for example, interviewed women who perpetrated homicide within England in the late 1960s and repeated this inquiry nearly thirty years later. She was struck with a re-occurring theme in victimisation heard in her 1990s study which had been absent from her previous research. In the late 1960s Heidensohn (1994) noted that the victim discourse was not yet an available discourse. However, she points out that by the early 1980s, the victim discourse had become a familiar explanation for women who kill. In her assessment of the prominence of the victim discourse in her second cohort, Heidensohn (1994) concluded that violent female offenders now had a language and means of asserting themselves. Here was an explanation for their offending which allowed them to claim the identity of a victim.

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Claire and Jennifer both denied their offending. Nonetheless, they were charged with murder and ascribed negative labels. Claire and Jennifer’s goal, as with all of the women in this research was to present themselves with a favourable identity (Geiger & Fischer, 2005). Their discussion of victimisation in relation to rape is an attempt to evoke a sympathetic response. Likewise, a history of victimisation can be utilised to take the focus away from them and onto their victim.

It can be argued that Claire, Jennifer, and Bella reached for the most familiar discourse of victimisation in order to help them construct their identity. In Bella’s case her victimisation can be interpreted as an explanation for her offending. Jennifer and Claire both also reached to establish identities as victims of sexual abuse, which the court did not accept. Reaching for the familiar victim identity in their narratives was thus not to help explain their offending, since they both deny committing the crime. Perhaps it was simply the only way they understood to position themselves sympathetically to the court, and to move focus from their violent behaviour to the violent behaviour of their victim.

6.3.4 Victimised by the Criminal Justice System: The Master Foe Four of the women in my study possessed master identities as victims of the criminal justice system. Importantly, this identity is not discussed in any of the feminist literature on violent female offending though it is a feature of research pertaining to the identity formation of violent male offenders.

In her research Presser (2002) found that many of the violent male offenders had assumed a victim identity with regard to their relationship with the criminal justice system. She described a personal battle which preoccupied the men to the extent that their victimisation by the system overshadowed all other identities. Presser (2002) argued that the criminal justice system was perceived as a powerful and formidable opponent with an ability to affix the label of a violent offender to them. Once classified as a violent offender or criminal, the men believed that any of their claims of moral integrity or goodness fell upon deaf ears.

Most significantly, the three women who plead their innocence, Jean, Claire and Jennifer, waged a similar battle with the criminal justice system as Presser (2002) noted of the violent men in her research. This struggle consumed their narratives and arose to the status of a 225 master identity. Jean’s victim identity via the criminal justice system abuse of power was most pronounced when she reiterated that the court “had no witness, no body, and no weapon.” Jean believed that the court had to have a scapegoat and that this role fell upon her. Following several hours of dialogue, I walked away knowing little of Jean’s identity and life apart from her victimisation by the criminal justice system and her work ethic. Jean as with all of the women was encouraged to express life experiences and communicate her identity, but she was seemingly unable to move much beyond the rage associated with her false conviction.

Like Jean, Claire also plead not guilty and also like Jean her master identity was that of a victim of the system. In our conversations, Claire and Jean were both encouraged to move beyond this identity and explore their larger lives and experiences; nevertheless, the conversation continually drifted back to this victimisation. Jennifer’s victimisation was further realised on a daily basis in what she referred to as gross violations of her cultural norms. As a Muslim woman, she spoke at length of how her dietary and religious needs were largely ignored. Perhaps the greatest affront pertained to regular strip searches which further violated the dictates of her culture. These insensitivities by the prison are positioned by Jennifer as a further example of her continued victimisation which greatly distresses her and from which there is no recourse.

All seven women expressed varying degrees of victimisation by the criminal justice system. Six of the seven women remain angered and embittered by their experiences which began at the time of their arrest and continued throughout their incarceration. Beyond the ire of the three women who believe they were falsely charged and convicted, three of the other four women who plead guilty note daily that they are victims of injustice. Most notable was their experience with public defenders and the primary cause of their dissatisfaction with the system was the unavailability of legal counsel. This particular indignation was heard across all seven narratives and it can be argued the women had nearly identical experiences in this regard.

In particular, two of the women stated that over the course of up to two years, they were provided only a few hours to speak with their counsel. Most women alleged that as a rule their counsel would not return calls or respond to their written requests. In addition, all seven 226 women expressed resentment at having been stripped of their own voice. Several women conveyed that they desired to take the stand on their own behalf but were strongly encouraged not to do so. In Robertson-Stainsby’s (2011) analysis of court records involving women homicide offenders incarcerated in Australia, she reported that none were afforded the opportunity to testify on their own behalf. The women in my study spoke of a further stripping of their identity by being told how to dress and the tone of voice to use when being addressed.

All of the women were engaged to varying degrees with the belief that the reason they were convicted of murder was due to poor legal representation. They all believed that if they had taken the stand and been allowed to speak on their own behalf, the outcome would have been different. Claire echoed this thought with the following remark: “I had to be someone I wasn’t and should have been true to myself.” Essentially, how their self-talk after several years of incarceration has impacted on this aspect of victimisation identity is difficult to ascertain. Nevertheless it does speak to the ways in which they understand both their own actions and their belief that if only they had been given the opportunity, the truth of their experience would have helped in understanding their actions. Moreover, that understanding would have led to a lesser conviction than murder. It was obvious that some of the women remain far more preoccupied with this injustice, especially Jean and Jennifer.

To some extent, convictions of murder and long sentences may account in part for the victimisation, anger, and even rage that several years post sentencing continues to organise their identities. Although studies conducted by Geiger and Fischer (2005) and Comack and Brickey (2007), did not report a victimisation identity in relation to the criminal justice system, their research consisted of very different samples. They were not women convicted of murder and serving long prison sentences.

6.4 The Master Identity of Normative Femininity: The Good Mother and Appropriate Woman Normative femininity serves to define women in western cultures and mandates that appropriate femininity be gauged by a woman’s goodness, empathy, and caretaking of others (Worrall, 1990). The taking of a life stands in stark contrast to the constituted woman of goodness and as such, incarcerated women convicted of murder have not only committed a 227 heinous crime but have also assaulted their identities as appropriate women. The seven women in this research appeared to be most keen to visit the identity they had tarnished the most in the hope of neutralising the damage. In striving to understand the identity construction of women who violently offend, Comack and Brickey (2007) reported that women’s identities were flexible and included being friends, intimates, and employees. The women in this research bypassed these lesser identities in favour of first addressing the breech in their status as appropriate women.

6.4.1 The Most Coveted Status: The Good Mother Seated within the frame of domesticity, Schur (1984) referred to the good mother as the most coveted master identity for women offenders. In this research, five of the women were mothers whose narratives were monopolised by references to their good mothering. It was such a frequently discussed identity that it would meet Hughes’ (1945) criteria of a master identity. Part of the reason for this as Schur (1984) asserted is that if a woman fails as a mother, she is cast into the categories of badness and evil. Geiger and Fischer (2005) agree and declared that the most difficult negative identity for violent female offenders to overcome was that of a bad mother. Of all of the women, Bella suffered the greatest assault on her status as a good mother.

In fact, Bella spoke of being doubly damned by her choice a few years prior to committing murder, of entering a life of drug addiction and prostitution. It was these behaviours and not the murder which were responsible for her losing custody of her children. Bella chronicalled her struggles with addiction and past abuse, as well as her dismay that her children were returned to her ex-husband. She noted with irony that her children were awarded to the man who beat her so severely she required hospitalisation. Bella, already labelled a bad mother prior to the murder, struggled to dislodge the bad mother label emphasised by the court. The double damnation thus referred to her label as a drug abusing prostitute, and a woman who killed – either of which positioned her as a bad mother, but together she was ‘doubly damned.” All seven women were asked what they hoped for in the future, Bella exclaimed: “I want to be a good mum.” In her narratives, Bella spoke adamantly of a full reconciliation with her children and for them to one day learn the truth of her life.

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As detailed in Chapter Four, Wendy’s status as a good mother was also compromised when her two sons’ testimonies served to depict her as a selfish and argumentative woman. In terms of the alleged domestic violence, her sons testified that she “goaded” her husband into hitting her. Even Wendy’s sister in England portrayed her as a difficult woman and basically supported the sons’ affidavits. In recounting her family’s depictions, Wendy stated: “I was numb, just numb.” When Geiger and Fischer (2005) contrasted men and women whose parenting has been challenged, they concurred that men can more readily cast off the bad father label than a woman’s bad mother label which can often lead to depression and low self-esteem, as the women in this research also testify.

Like Wendy, Jean was the mother of adult children. Jean however did not identify with a label of a bad mother. In fact, Jean said very little of her children apart from the assertion that they fully supported her and that they have a meaningful and continued relationship. Claire and Jennifer had young children. As with Bella they were extremely distressed with labels of bad mothers. Both countered the label with arguments related to how the court system itself, rather than their actions, were responsible for this label. As innocent women who are incarcerated, they are unable to mother their children.

Claire was tearful and spoke of how she feared her daughters would not desire a relationship with her. Jennifer spoke of how she had been stripped of any visage of a good mother. She has been afforded no input into her children’s care and supervision. She is saddened with the prospect that the absolute separation coupled with the Muslim response to her incarceration may result in her never having a relationship with the children. Both Claire and Jennifer blamed the courts for this unjustified label and its long range impact. Interestingly, Bella and Wendy were compelled to construct a case for their goodness as mothers whereas Claire and Jennifer resorted to blaming the court for the unwarranted title. While the response to the label varied, the result was similar. The bad mother label lead to sadness and was met with a challenge. This was unlike the men in Geiger and Fischer’s (2005) study who were labelled as bad fathers and were able to more easily cast off the identity.

6.4.2 The Good Wife and Domesticity Two of the women Bella and Wendy, spoke of their identities as good and faithful wives. According to Bacon and Lansdowne (1982), domesticity dictates that the good wife is a 229 loving woman who takes care of the needs of her husband and family over her own needs. Bella spoke of how she identified with the good and faithful wife discourse and chose to remain with her abusive husband, as she believed a good wife should. She further reflected upon her mother’s abuse: “My mother stayed with my abusive dad and I thought this is what I should do.” Upon reflection, Wendy and Bella came to realise that their commitment to the construct of a good wife, served to keep them locked in an unhealthy and abusive situation. Bella at one point alluded to the abuse as “sort of my normal” since she had been raised in an abusive environment. Wendy attributes her age and generation to be largely responsible for her remaining in the abusive relationship, fleeing, and then returning.

In our last interview, Wendy disclosed that even following her separation, she continued to work diligently at maintaining communication and a relationship with her husband: “I’m old fashioned and I believe once a wife always a wife.” This partially accounts for Wendy’s dismay that her former husband became involved with another woman despite their ongoing amicable relationship. Her identity as a good and faithful wife was disregarded, however, and she tearfully asked: “How could he do this to me?” It can be argued that Bella who was divorced and Wendy who was separated for years from violent partners, still expressed some continued regard for the faithful wife identity. Both women noted their mother’s model of domesticity as an identity which they had adopted, and which demonstrates the influence that the discourse of normative femininity holds in western societies.

The identity as a faithful wife and partner was also echoed in Jennifer and Claire’s narratives. Claire spoke of how she set aside her athletic career and worked at a menial job to accommodate her husband’s career. As noted, she worked a shift that would enable her husband to invest in his work. Claire identified with her ‘proper’ English upbringing as determined largely by a father who was a career military officer and a mother who was a homemaker. Jennifer imparted her role as a Muslim woman, in relation to her husband, family, extended family and the home. Jennifer expressed she had come to resent all that domesticity demanded of her. She spoke of being entrapped into a system that did not coincide with the western culture in which she was submerged. The social discourse of normative femininity resonated with her in relation to the good and faithful wife who is master of the domestic sphere. However, she recognised that her culture maintained an 230 extreme commitment to the discourse that was not manifest in the western culture with which she was surrounded.

6.4.3 Normative Femininity and the Nurturer A key feature of domesticity is the woman’s role as a nurturer in which Lil represented the perfect example. To reiterate, Lil lived a life in which her desires were diminished in order to care for her grandmother and mother until their demise. Her nurturing did not stop there since she continued to support and care for her aunt and sister. As she proclaimed: “We are a family of women.”

As suggested by Lloyd (1995), a woman who kills has violated two fundamental laws. First is the taking of another person’s life while the second is her breach of the bounds of normative femininity that define a woman as passive and nurturing. Arguably, this accounts for much of the reason the women spent so much time reaffirming their status as good women. Referring again to Mead’s (1934) conception that there exist identities to covet and those to reject, an identity in accordance with normative femininity is the most coveted for women. This is particularly true for women who have killed.

Normative femininity is the yardstick by which women who violently offend are judged by others and more importantly how they judge themselves. Two examples demonstrate the influence of this discourse upon society, the media, and the courts. First, women who kill but who also model domesticity are perceived as less of a threat and are therefore less demonised. We can see this most clearly when we compare Lil with Bella.

Lil epitomised nurturance, whereas Bella was depicted as an unfit mother who worked as a prostitute and was addicted to heroin. Therefore, Lil received far less negative attention in the court by repeatedly being portrayed as a caring and selfless woman. In contrast, Bella was demonised by the media, and the court proclaimed that she had little hope of rehabilitation. Interestingly, Lil and Bella both killed elderly male acquaintances in a brutal fashion, and both were under the influence of a substance at the time of the crimes. However, Lil’s nurturing prevailed not just in how she was depicted, but in her conviction where she received the shortest sentence of the seven women. Similar to the nurse in Huckerby’s (2003) analysis, one might argue that Lil was perceived through a more sympathetic lens. 231

Before closing the discussion regarding normative femininity and its influence upon women’s identities, the following sub-question can be approached: “Do differences exist between the identity constructions of women who acknowledge their offending as opposed to those who deny their offense?” Not surprising, the three women who denied their offending did not internalise the same dramatic fall from the good woman identity as those who acknowledged their offending. They share the label of a woman convicted of murder and reside in the same prison; however, the urgency to revive an appropriate woman identity was less pursued. The disrespect to their good woman status was countered with their identities as victims of an inept criminal justice system, society, and the media. They would most likely argue: I’m a good woman who was falsely accused.

6.5 Identities to be Resisted In this research all seven women sought to distance themselves from a violent identity. Similarly, Geiger and Fischer (2005) concluded that a violent identity was resisted with the same level of contempt as the mad identity. Although the motive or specifics pertaining to their offending life were never pursued, open-ended questions were introduced in order to understand how women conceptualised violence. It was felt that even those women who denied their offense could respond to violence in these general terms.

In light of the process of establishing a favourable identity, a disassociation with violence is understandable. According to the Federal Bureau of Investigation (United States Department of Justice, 2002) women are responsible for only 17% of the acts constituted as violent and only 10% of the homicides committed in the United States. While perhaps the women in my study were not familiar with the FBI’s research, they realised that violence is dominated by males and society deems violence an inappropriate behaviour for women. As a consequence, women sought to neutralise the violent identities ascribed to them.

“It was a one off,” was a term used by three of the women (Bella, Lil, and Wendy), who acknowledged their commission of murder. The frequency of its use and its apparent significance renders the term relevant for this discussion. The women were referring to their violent behaviour as an irrational act in which they lost control. More importantly, a single act does not support a violent self-identity. Wendy shared that when she realised her former husband, the victim, had been unfaithful: “I just couldn’t believe it; I was shocked, I couldn’t 232 even see straight.” Similarly, Bella spoke of her anger and rage: “I just lost control and the drug cocktail I took had something to do with it.”

A second effort used to avoid a violent woman’s identity was to position themselves in contrast to the violent young repeat female offenders with which they were incarcerated. They spoke of how these young girls were in and out of prison, and how they will never break that cycle. Sarah spoke of how she had been repeatedly taunted and assaulted by these young offenders and further noted that she even had her nose broken. All seven women concurred that the young girls thrived on instigating trouble within the prison and were to be avoided. Several of the women embraced Jennifer’s analogy that these violent girls will continue to commit crimes and face subsequent incarcerations; however, “long termers like us, never come back to prison.” Identifying bad and violent women as ‘other’ and rationalising how they are different was a consistent exercise to neutralise their own violent identities.

When describing their violent young peers, the women spoke of how the “young girls” were on a trajectory to a life of crime and turmoil. This pathway theory of violent offending by young girls (Chesney-Lind & Rodriguez, 1983; Gilfus, 1992), has served as the primary explanation for offending women which contends that a relationship exists between a girl’s violent victimisations and their subsequent engagement in violence (Joe & Chesney-Lind, 1995; Gaardner & Belknap, 2002). Interestingly, this was not the case for the women in this research with just Bella having any previous charges which were non-violent in nature.

6.5.1 Murderer: An Identity to be Resisted The absolute resistance to an identity of one who willingly chose to kill is significant since none of the women in this research chose to embrace a conscious behavioural choice to kill and the accompanying label of a murderer. Among the four women who acknowledged their homicides (Bella, Lil, Sarah and Wendy), each was careful to erect a platform from which they could argue they were not culpable agents.

Bella addressed her intent to make her victim pay, to make him suffer for the sexual abuse he perpetrated. However, she carefully crafted a situation which ballooned out of control and her victim died. Further, Bella points to her intoxication and conveys her belief that had she 233 not been under the influence of “a drug cocktail,” that the murder would never have occurred. Bella’s narratives reflect her ownership of her problems and life’s experiences and how she has climbed from the ashes of abuse and addiction as a survivor. Bella rejected the victim identity as it relates to her victimisations. However, Bella seemingly cannot reconcile her identity with a woman who murdered.

Wendy clung tightly to her sense that the murder was a “one off.” She called it an “irrational moment” in which she simply snapped out of control. Sarah and Lil both also claim they were amnesic to many of the details surrounding their offending. Sarah argued that what happened was complex: “I’m only partly responsible for what happened.” Lil deferred to her heavy drinking on the day of the offense.

The court’s evidence was sufficient for the jury to rule convictions of murder. The intent here is neither to engage a legal treatise challenging intent as based on motive nor to weigh the evidence against the women’s positions. However, that stands in contrast to the work by Ajzenstadt (2009); Comack and Brickey (2007); Flemke (2009) and Geiger and Fischer (2005), who found that some of the women in their study were prepared to own their violent offending but their conclusions were drawn from samples incorporating lesser acts of violence. It appears that it is easier to discuss one’s anger, jealousy, and volition if you did not commit murder. Also, in these studies, the few women who did commit murder did so most often within the immediate context of their victimisation by a violent intimate partner. The women in this research with convictions of murder, arguably, suffered more damning identities than that of a violent offender. To elaborate upon suspected motives of anger, jealousy, and financial gain serves only to further challenge their efforts at constructing a favourable identity.

I would argue irrationality, intoxication, amnesia, and complex scenarios are targeted to cancel or at least dilute the identity of an inappropriate woman who engaged in the unthinkable. The willful taking of a life and label of murderer is to be resisted.

6.6 The Court’s Voice A sub-question for this study is “How does the court construct the woman’s identity and does it do so in concordance with the woman offender’s self-identity? Morrissey (2003) and Chan 234

(2001) have both been frequently cited as researchers who reinforced the symbiotic relationship that the court has with the normative frame of femininity and with the medico- legal experts. Perhaps, Morrissey (2003) best articulated the court’s adherence to the stock explanations for women who kill as victim, mad, and bad. In the case of Bella, Lil, and Sarah, the court was careful to seek out and identify childhood abuse and neglect as victimisations. The court also detailed the intimate partner violence that Bella and Wendy experienced during their marriages; however, their childhood abuses and past intimate partner violence did not rise to a level where the court sought these as an explanation for the offending. As noted earlier, the court also countered the intimate partner abuses that Jennifer, Claire, and Bella claimed were a feature of the immediate context of their offending. The court’s familiarity with victimisations realised through intimate partner violence as well as childhood victimisations was markedly present within the court transcripts.

According to the narratives provided during this research as well as those provided by the court, a range of medical legal personnel were involved in several of the women’s cases. In Lil’s case, her private psychiatrist and psychologist provided testimony, Wendy’s defense insisted that she be examined by a psychiatrist with the prospect that age related dementia might be identified, and Bella’s past psychiatric treatment and her failed efforts at drug rehabilitation were also detailed. Lengthy quotes from the written psychiatric and psychological evaluations and courtroom testimonies by the medical legal experts were captured in the court sentencing documents.

Similarly, several experts were sequestered to either support or counter Lil and Sarah’s claims of partial amnesia. Given the universal explanation of pathology as a justification for women who commit murder, it can be argued the presence of medico-legal experts is highly regarded. In short, their reverence supports Chan (2001) and Morrissey’s (2003) contention that these experts have established a strong foothold in the courtroom and serve to perpetuate the discourse of mad.

In carefully examining the court narratives however, it is clear that the judges sought this information to rule out the “usual suspects” of victimisation and pathology. Given that none of the women’s pathologies or victimisations rose to the level of a rationale for their offending, the court had to look elsewhere and traverse the rationale less often associated 235 with women who murder - that of agency. Subsequently, the court pursued intent for each of the seven women. As a result, the court depicted the murders as heinous, vile, and inhuman, and the women were further labelled as wicked, selfish, and depraved in accordance with the discourse of bad and evil.

6.6.1 The Court and Normative Femininity The court exercised its familiarity and comfort level with the frame of normative femininity. Incarcerated women offenders were ostracised for their selfish deeds that left their children “motherless.” For example, the court was preoccupied with Jennifer’s extramarital affair with her co-defendant who happened to be her brother-in-law, whereas Bella received the greatest chastisement for her dramatic fall from normative femininity to a drug addict and prostitute who lost custody of her children. In Lil’s case, however, her good nurturing resulted in little character assassination. Interestingly, as noted, she received the most lenient sentence despite her crime running parallel to Bella’s who was awarded a much lengthier sentence. Finally, the court determined that Wendy and Claire killed for monetary gain. A few brief references were made to Wendy’s possession of her victim’s insurance and banking documents, and Claire’s receipt of a nearly one million dollar life insurance policy. These motives were cited as matters of fact with no vivid adjectives attached to the behaviour such as were used to depict Bella, Claire, and Sarah’s offending. It can be concluded that a far more emotional judgment was leveled at those behaviours that transgress the frame of normative femininity such as addiction, prostitution, and extra-marital affairs.

6.7 Summary The scant body of literature regarding women who kill is drawn largely from an analysis of those who murder intimates and are focused upon the offender’s motive, demographics, and characteristics. Since 2000, feminist criminologists have increasingly utilised women’s narratives; however, their samples have not been limited to women who kill and more importantly, the women’s self-identities have been largely ignored.

The challenges faced by incarcerated women in dealing with their identity construction are multifaceted. Following Blumer’s (1969) assertion, women charged with murder are quite aware of how they are viewed by society and they do their best to counter these portrayals by recourse to positive identities of good mothers. Similarly, and following Gilligan (1982) and 236

Campbell (1993), the women in this research suffered from fragmented attachments and recognised the scorn associated with their offending even among family and friends. While Bella and Jean worked hard to keep their outside relationships intact, Sarah’s sadness that her attachments with her family were troubled and fading was palpable.

Unexpectedly, two master identities emerged and dominated the narratives shared by the women in this research. The women who acknowledged their offending largely framed themselves as good mothers and good women. Those who denied their offending gravitated to identities of victims of the criminal justice system though it was observed that none of them could fully accept their violent offending or the identity that went with it. Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, they constructed a partial block or rationale ranging from amnesia, intoxication, and irrationality that could not render them as culpable agents. Perhaps accepting full responsibility for a murder is the grand breach of normative femininity and closes the door to any attempts at negotiating a favourable identity.

According to Kirkwood (2000), women’s violence has been disregarded, downplayed, or explained in terms of victimisation. Women who kill have also been labelled as deviant, bad, and evil. This study seeks to learn what social discourses are available to offset these weighty labels and what can alter these perceptions. I would argue that normative femininity as realised through domesticity was the path chosen by the women in my study. For example, self-depictions of good mothering, faithful wife, and nurturer were pursued wherein women deemed bad seek to be recognised as good.

In Chapters Four and Five, it was further noted that the majority of women identified themselves as being good women within the prison. Some of the women spoke of helping new inmates adjust to prison life; “a good woman cares about people and tries to help others,” was often heard. Jean expressed an identity as a nurturer for younger inmates. Apparently, the goal is to be known as a good woman who had never been in trouble before, or as stated by Bella a good woman who “made a terrible mistake.”

The three women who denied their offending (Claire, Jean, and Jennifer) were nonetheless convicted of murder and awarded the customary deviance label. In their spoken innocence, they did not recognise a breach in their good woman identity as understood through the lens 237 of normative femininity. Thus, they had little repair work to do and rather chose to focus upon their identity as a victim of the criminal justice system. How this victimisation arose to their master status identity was evident in their pre-occupation with their cases.

In this research, a murder conviction that implied a bad or violent identity was overwhelmingly resisted. Among the seven women, only Claire had committed prior acts of reported violence; two previous attempts at her husband’s life which first surfaced through testimony by her two paid accomplices. As women who generally lived lives void of violence, a blanket label of bad and violent seemed to be unwarranted. Both Bella and Sarah spoke of this myopic view of their lives and crime. For example, Bella repeatedly urged me to look at her entire life rather than the three years prior to her offending.

In a study conducted by Alarid and Vega (2010), 104 first time female felons were compared and contrasted in order to determine their overall self-identities. The majority of the women appeared able to reject self-identities as felons and criminals and arrive at a favourable identity as alluded to earlier by Geiger and Fischer (2005). Interestingly, the women in my study struggled to cast off the deviant labels ascribed them by the court, media, and the societal discourse of normative femininity. The women in the Alarid and Vega (2010) and Geiger and Fischer (2005) studies were not victimised by the media and society to the same extent of the women in my study, who wear a murder conviction as a Scarlet Letter (Hawthorne, 1850).

In order to distance themselves from a deviant identity, the women compared and contrasted themselves with the young violent women who were repeat offenders. They sought to establish this sub-group as role models of deviance. The women realised that all of the references to them as deviant could only be challenged by communicating their inherent goodness as in accordance with the dictates of normative femininity. The women shared their larger identity as that of good women, but feared society could not reconcile this identity with their offense.

6.8 Personal Reflections After absorbing my analysis, one might surmise I was overcome with the setting and allure of the violent offender sitting before me. Perhaps I lost objectivity given this was my first major 238 endeavour engaging women who kill. During the years that have passed, I find myself thinking more and more about the women I came to know. Although one or more women may have since been released; I wonder and I am concerned about what life holds for them. Incidentally, over the course of my research, there was a book written and a movie produced about one of the women.

Reluctantly, I concur with the courts that all seven women made a rational choice to violently offend; however, I am not so sure that all intentionally killed. In part, my hesitance lies in the impression that these women are more like my next door neighbours, rather than women who brutally beat an old man to death or methodically plotted their husband’s demise. Out of the six first time offenders, they are indeed correct in their assertions that they are different from the young violent repeat offenders that I often passed by on my visits with the women. In short, I believe that their commitment to never again violently offend is true. Any pensive examination of Bella or Sarah’s lives echoes the abuse and pain of their victimisations, whereas Jennifer reminded me of the complexities of their lives.

Several years have passed since my dialogue with the seven Australian women. I have travelled to the United States where I now reside and have pursued a passion which I hold the seven women responsible for birthing within me. I continue to visit women convicted of murder and more recently sex offending serving time in maximum security prisons in an effort to try and understand them.

6.9 Conclusion In my original solicitation for participants, the cut off criteria allowed for women who had engaged in acts of violence specific to charges of manslaughter, robbery, and rape. Surprisingly, only women with murder convictions stepped forward, although there were far more possible subjects at the facility who were convicted for other crimes of violence. My understanding is that seven women volunteered to set the record straight. Bella spoke of her desire to tell her story: “So maybe one day my kids can read it and find out who I really am.”

I further surmise that I was viewed as an objective outsider and here was an opportunity to present the continued injustices that had befallen them. Much of the narratives of Jennifer, Sarah, and Claire were devoted to continued issues they were experiencing with the criminal 239 justice process and prison. Another possibility lies in the fact that all the women who volunteered had exhausted all appeals processes and they were not in jeopardy by revealing their stories.

There exists a limited number of studies of women who violently offend or kill that employ narrative analysis. Among the studies engaged, the focus was primarily the pursuit of motive. Another key research question examined the nature of the relationship between the woman and the victim. Some samples contained no women convicted of homicide offenses whereas other samples included homicide offenses among other acts of violence to include assault and armed robbery. The majority of samples examined women convicted of intimate partner violence. Few of the studies had a focus specific to identity construction. However, within these studies the women offender’s narratives often revealed relevant information to the identities of women who perpetrate violence. Lastly, given the dearth of narrative studies specifically pursuing the identities for female violent offenders, Presser’s (2002) research with males was included. Presser’s (2002) research was specific to identification of the narrated identities of men who perpetrate violence.

My experience was not as I had anticipated. For example, I was given the opportunity to meet the “other third” of women who commit murder and the women did not match the demographics I was expecting. Although there were victimisations and pathologies, they did not include the victim/offenders as portrayed by Mann (1990). Rather, the women were culpable agents for whom we know very little about. Apart from how society, media, and the courts defined the women, I strived to learn through their personal narratives how they defined themselves.

Equally as surprising, the women chose to defend more than define themselves. Subsequently, very little is known about their larger lives and identities. As a result, I have come to reconcile that each woman spent a few hours with me in order to negotiate her favourable identity (Geiger & Fischer, 2005). Essentially, painful labels had adhered to them, and they now had an opportunity to try and dislodge them. Finally, I became vividly aware of the influence that victimisation and normative femininity have upon the identity construction of women who have committed murder.

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Chapter Seven: Conclusion

7.1 Introduction In this final chapter, the research approach, the sample’s distinctiveness, and implications for broadening the understanding of women who murder are discussed. An approach was employed to engage an extremely difficult population to reach, women who are incarcerated and a small sub-group of seven women convicted of murder. To the best of my knowledge, there have been no qualitative studies conducted in Australia or other western societies that contain the actual spoken narratives of women serving long sentences for murder. For convictions of murder under Victorian Law, intent to kill or cause grievous bodily harm must be present (Victorian Law Reform Commission, 2002). All women in this study were convicted of murder.

7.2 Approach to the Research I conducted extensive interviews with seven women who were convicted of murder and serving prison time at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre in Melbourne, Australia; however, I intentionally avoided certain inquiries in several respects. First, much of the Australian and larger western feminist criminological research regarding women who kill has focused upon their motives and methods behind the homicides. Secondly, focus has typically been on the nature of the relationship between the women and their victim/s. For example, extensive data bases related to female homicide offending (i.e., demographics and characteristics) have been maintained and depicted in Australia, Canada, England, and the United States. Beyond the statistics, Australian feminist criminological inquiry has further expanded upon our understanding of the woman who kills, through content analysis of court records. Examples include Wallace (1986), Mouzos and Rushforth (2003), and most recently Robertson- Stainsby (2011). However, the actual voice of the female homicide offender remains largely absent from the existing research. With this in mind, I strived to formally introduce the voice of women who killed through their personal perceptions and by stepping beyond the quantitative data and qualitative record reviews.

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7.3 Significance of the Study Due to the uniqueness of my sample and its research approach, approximately two years of determined effort was undertaken in order to gain access to this small sub-group of seven women convicted of murder. Inherent roadblocks to secure approval to conduct studies with incarcerated women is well established within feminist qualitative research and researchers may be discouraged from traversing the bureaucratic maze necessary to work with them. This has certainly hindered our knowledge regarding the phenomenon of women who kill and as such, research is largely limited to data taken from court records or from women who are either on parole, probation, or in halfway house settings. In short, minimal research which incorporates women’s voices has been generated from within the prison walls.

This research is also unique in that it is one of the few studies which examine the voices of incarcerated women who kill, to understand how they negotiate their violent offender identity. Only two of the cited studies were limited to a sample of women who committed homicide. While others included women who killed, they were interspersed with other acts of violence, and as such their findings cannot be generalised to the phenomenon of the woman who kills.

Moreover, criminological research regarding women who commit homicide tends to focus upon the two-thirds that kill an intimate. Four of the seven women in this research to include Lil, Sarah, Bella and Jean killed non-intimates. Bella denies having a sexual relationship with her victim apart from her alleged rape by the victim. As such, her offending may not fall within the realm of an intimate partner homicide as defined by Davies (2008, p. 122), which includes a “current or former sexual relationship with the victim.” It can be argued that Bella’s rape is not associated with intimacy. In this case the majority of the women in this research did not kill an intimate.

A feminist methodological approach was the key feature utilised to provide a voice to the very personal and everyday life experiences of women who kill, particularly those who are marginalised by society in light of their status as women who have been found guilty of murder. Feminist researchers must delve into the private and sensitive realm of a woman’s life. Narrative analysis was chosen as the most appropriate methodology because it affords an opportunity for participants to make sense of the events and actions that have taken place 242 in their lives. Essentially, an analysis of the women’s narratives provided a platform in which to explore the ways in which these women constructed their personal identities and unique experiences (Lloyd, 1995).

7.4 Findings A key finding lies in the considerable influence of normative femininity on both the available stories and on their power in defining appropriate female behaviour, specifically via the scripts of domesticity. Women convicted of homicide are immediately cast into a pejorative status. An exception suggested by Campbell (1993), however, is the woman who commits homicide due to victimisation by a violent partner or by succumbing to a mental illness. In these cases, she may emerge as a good woman who killed in relation to her abuse or pathology.

None of the women in this research were afforded this identity. Although some were victimised and others had documented mental illnesses, their murder convictions rose to the level where these explanations were impractical and other available identities were lost to them. This led to the women working very hard in their narratives to establish an identity as a good mother, wife, and/or daughter identity - a response directed at tipping the scales to a more appropriate model of womanhood.

Equally compelling was the impact of victimisation which influenced to varying degrees the identities of all seven women. As noted, some encountered mental illness, specifically depression and substance abuse, and others childhood or intimate partner victimisations. Unexpectedly, however, was the more dominant theme related to the criminal justice system which informed a master identity of victimisation for some of the women. After three extensive interviews with Jean, for example, little was known about her identity apart from her victimisation by the police and courts. Although encouraged to share her larger life and experiences, Jean was compelled to revisit her innocence and subsequent victimisation, a narrative that epitomises Presser’s (2002) finding that the criminal justice system is a mighty foe which becomes a very personal struggle for many male offenders. This was an identity previously missing from research on female narratives.

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In order to become more familiar with the courts identity construction and its relation to the women’s own personal identity constructions, sentencing and appeal documents were accessed. It was clear that the court was most comfortable with, and most likely to adhere to, explanations for women who kill in relation to normative femininity. Like Morrissey (2003) this research also discovered that the court methodically attempted to rule out the usual suspects of victimisation and madness and was careful to cite references to past abuses that leaned heavily toward medico-legal experts. However, in this research, explanations of abuse and mental illness were not found to be adequate enough to offer an identity beyond that of willful murderer. As a result, all women in this research were found to have killed their victims with intent and volition.

In sentencing documents, adjectives were cast about that could arguably be seen as intended to strip away any good woman semblance of normative femininity. In other words, the women and their crimes were framed as wicked, evil, heinous, grotesque, unthinkable, and selfish, much like the damaging repeated references to their selfishness and recklessness in relation to their children. Years later, inferences to: “you abandoned your children,” “you left your children motherless,” and “your selfishness overshadowed the needs of your children” continued to follow the women who spent much of their narratives trying to counter these identities. The gap between the courts defining of the women and their own self-perceptions is wide.

The court endorsed identities for the women in accord with the universal understanding for women who kill of victim, mad, and bad. This is realised in the depictions of Sarah, Bella, and Lil as victims of child abuse. It is further realised in the recognition of victimisations by violent intimates and references to mental illness. However, the court had in its chamber women charged with murder which implies intent and volition. The victimisation identities acquiesced to master identities couched in evil and bad which seemed more befitting purposeful killing. The women were depicted by the prosecution and in sentencing statements as bad mothers. They were cast as greedy self-absorbed women for killing for financial gain. Two of the women were deemed as blinded by jealously. Bella was referred to as a drug abusing prostitute with little hope of redemption. The women were shrouded in identities alien to the good woman of normative femininity. Their offending positioned them as violent women who meticulously planned to kill. 244

The women’s self-described identities were void of any references to greed, jealously, selfishness, and bad mothering. All of the women vehemently rejected an identity as a violent offender. Nothing within their narratives hinted of a bad or evil temperaments. Their master identities were anchored in the kind and gentle woman of normative femininity. Victimisation also served as a master identity. Those women who acknowledged their offending engaged the victim discourse in declaring they did indeed offend, but were victim/offenders. One can speculate the victim/offender identity serves to lessen the impact of the court’s depiction of them as cold and calculated murderers.

Not well-known is the relationship between disparaging identities and associated stigma attributed by the courts and the women’s evolving identity as an incarcerated woman. Far less is known of their identities following release and whether the court and media’s depictions continue to influence their identities over time. Jennifer believes the negative labels render her an outcast from her Muslim community. Sarah fears her identity as one who murdered a young girl will follow her, the remainder of her life. Subsequently, she desires to remain incarcerated. Wendy has succumbed to chronic depression as she ages in prison. She is haunted by her portrayal as a grandmother who chose to kill and the court’s decree she killed for greed. The women interviewed had been incarcerated between a quarter and midpoint into their sentence. For many, the court and media’s depiction of them continued to influence their lives and identity. They defined themselves as a mere number, depressed, and with little hope for the future.

However, some of the women have seemingly been able to lessen the impact the court’s narrative has upon their identities. Bella, Lil, and Jean increasingly view themselves in a more positive light and speak of their hopes and plans for the future. A key consideration would be that Bella, Lil, and Jean had strong ongoing support from significant others. Claire, Wendy, and Jennifer lacked such support and consistently voiced that supportive counselling or therapy was a rare commodity in long waiting lists and a frequent turnover of counselling staff. Their identity negotiation was contingent upon their internal thought and perhaps support from peers. This contingency did not serve to enhance self-esteem or yield hope for the future.

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An important area of exploration in this research was in relation to whether the women differed in their narratives in relation to their identity as innocent or guilty of their crime. The key difference seemed to be that the women who plead innocence portrayed master identities as victims of the criminal justice system. In their innocence, it can be argued there was no felt need to reaffirm their goodness as a woman. While a slight digression pertaining to how their incarceration served to victimise their children was uttered on occasion, this too was intended as a further example of their victimisation by the criminal justice system who separated them from their family. In also attempting to understand this preoccupation, it was argued that this victim identity was the only available discourse left for the woman convicted of murder who alleged their innocence.

Another important area of discussion was the way in which pathology served as an explanation of convenience for some of the women. For example, while Lil, Bella, and Sarah would not identify with mental illness in terms of depression and personality disorders, Lil and Bella sought to embrace pathology in relation to their substance abuse as it accounted, in part, for their murder. Both women believed that they may not have committed their crimes if they had not been under the influence. Similarly, Sarah and Lil claimed partial amnesia which might also be understood as a pathological explanation of convenience. Although the women in this research acknowledged their past and present experiences with the pathologising discourse, they relied on the lesser pathology of addiction as a rationale to explain their offending and avoided at all costs the identity of mental illness. At the time of the interviews, several of the women were also either taking medication or making periodic trips to the psychiatric hospital to be treated for depression. Jokingly, Wendy considered her annual trip to the psychiatric hospital as a “vacation.” While only two of the women had been diagnosed with a mental illness prior to their offending, six of the seven had since come under the care of mental health experts.

One of the most significant findings of this research dealt with the universal explanation that automatically cast women convicted of murder into the evil and bad identity which defines them as other, inhuman, and not normal. The bad identity has been less a factor in the identity construction of women in studies where the samples were not homicide offenders. Scenarios including samples of marginalised women who violently offend (e.g., the homeless and prostitutes) and those who kill intimate partners were cast outside the frame of normative 246 femininity, but not as far outside as the woman convicted of murder. Thus, the identity construction of women in previous studies has been more expansive and fluid than the women in this research who were fixed upon restoring a good identity by recourse to either victimisation or pathologisation, or by asserting elements of their identity beyond their violent offending but within the construct of normative femininity, such as good mother, good daughter, good wife. Arguably, women convicted of murder suffer from severely handicapped identities.

Among the four women who acknowledged their offending (Bella, Lil, Sarah, and Wendy), a recurrent theme was that none assumed full responsibility. For example, Bella and Lil believed that intoxication was a key factor, Wendy claimed that her offending was a “one off” in that she had lost control of her emotions and behaviour, while Sarah maintained she was only “partially” accountable for the crime. None of the four women acknowledged a conscious and rational decision to kill. Instead, they expressed irrationality and were drawn to minimise their offending through substance abuse and amnesia.

A review of the literature has established that agency or a rational choice to kill has long been avoided as an explanation for women offenders, with justification locked into victimisation. As strong as the evidence may have been and the acknowledgement that the four women did in fact kill, they were still unable to accept that they made a conscious and calculated choice. Although feminist criminologists have argued that agency is an available explanation for a woman’s homicide offending, the influence of normative femininity appears to prevent violent women from embracing such an identity.

7.5 Limitations of Study The first and most obvious limitation lies in the small sample size (N=7). Small sample sizes do not lend themselves to generalisations. This limitation is buffered somewhat by the extreme dearth of research with incarcerated women who kill, especially those that are convicted of murder. Another limitation is related to the homogenous nature of the sample. This is demonstrated in the absence of any Indigenous women in the sample when it has been established that within Australia, Indigenous women are vastly over-represented among female homicide offenders. This sample is further unique in that only one woman had a criminal history. Drug and alcohol abuse while present among two women in this study, was 247 under-represented among women who kill. These unique features all serve to limit a generalisation of the findings.

Another limitation lies in the absence of studies that seek to understand the identities of women who kill from which this research could draw. Two studies cited Brownstein et al., (1994) and Leonard (2001) engaged samples limited to homicide. However, Leonard’s sample was limited to women who killed their violent intimate partners and Brownstein’s sample engaged women involved in the drug trade and neither focused upon identity.

A felt limitation had to do with the flexible format of the interviews. In keeping with my intent to provide a voice to the women, the narratives often veered far from the research question. The semi-structured questions I had prepared to assist in a refocusing when necessary, failed to prevent this wandering or fixation upon a person or situation. These narratives did not fall within the major sub-themes and served to further complicate the analysis.

7.6 Implications for Future Research The basic premise of my study reinforces the assertion that the universal explanations of victimisation or pathology may not apply to all women who kill given little is known about their identity construction. Apparently, women who are convicted of murder fall outside the realm of established demographics and characteristics associated with those who are sentenced to lesser charges for homicide.

While the intention of this research was neither to gather narratives surrounding the women’s experiences with the police and courts nor to ask open-ended questions pertaining to their encounters, nevertheless, incidents involving the criminal justice system emerged as a dominant theme. For example, there were stories of alleged police victimisation, and the women tell of their individuality being stripped in the court. They were told how to dress and behave, and they were all advised not to testify. Reportedly, the women went through months and sometimes years of litigation, yet only a few hours of time was spent with their public defenders. Across the women’s narratives, their court experiences consistently served to validate one another. Notably, Robertson-Stainsby (2011) reported among 18 Australian female homicide offenders whose court records were analysed, none of the women testified 248 on their own behalf. It would be useful to know if this is a consistent practice across all Australian jurisdictions and, if so, what underlies the practice.”

Another implication associated with a convicted murderer identity for women is the long term consequences of imprisonment. Sarah, the youngest of the seven women frequently alluded to the belief she had become institutionalised and had fears upon being released. Sarah was concerned that she could never have a normal life. Part of the reason for this was that Sarah who killed a young girl, was aware that she was still being attacked through the media.

Similarly, Jean was also portrayed as a vile and crazy killer in the media and she has resigned herself to a life outside of prison where she will be limited to staying home and working in her garden. She often wonders if her neighbours will welcome her back. To varying degrees, all seven of the women in my study expressed anxieties related to their release and most agreed that they will always carry the stigma of their criminality. For Lil, Bella, and perhaps Jean, there will be supportive family and some friends as evidenced in visits and phone calls they continue to receive. Conversely, Jennifer worries that her Muslim community has deemed her an outcast, and Wendy, as the eldest, fears if she survives prison, her sons will have rejected her and leave her homeless and without community support. The implication is the prison may not possess the staff, programming, or be cognisant of the impact that a murder conviction has on the futures of women who kill especially given their lack of anonymity due to the small numbers and intensive media attention. Furthermore, it would be interesting to learn of the long term outcomes of the women post-release.

All of the women in this research were labelled as bad and evil. The impact of these labels is significant given that our identities are largely informed by how we believe others perceive us. This hapless victim or vile offender dichotomy informs the identities of women who kill, and the frame of normative femininity remains the gold standard by which women are judged. Until a woman’s violent offending is recognised in the social vocabulary, this practice will continue.

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7.7 Suggestions for Future Research 7.7.1 The Criminal Justice Experience of Women Charged with Murder To varying degrees, all of the women had frustrating and demeaning episodes with the criminal justice system. With the exception of Jean, the other six women utilised a public defender. Initially, Jean engaged a private barrister; however, this consumed her finances to the point where she soon deferred to the public system. Some of the other women spent more than two years in litigation from the time of arrest until their conviction and transportation to prison. Most argued that their public defender visited no more than a few hours with them, whereas others similarly stated the public defenders were unavailable and rarely returned their calls or frequently changed defense team members. In particular, all women were discouraged from testifying on their own behalf and none felt they were reasonably informed of this decision.

Most probably, such accusations come as no surprise given that the criminal justice system is greatly taxed, and stories involving public defenders who manage hundreds of cases are routine across western courts. Therefore, a recommendation for future research would be to interview women charged with homicides, through both quantitative and qualitative methodologies in order to capture their criminal justice experiences. Thus, several questions can be raised: “How does this practice differ for those women charged with murder from lesser acts of homicide?” “How does the court experience with women charged with murder differ from those of men?” Two of the women were distressed to the point of having a “nervous breakdowns” during their criminal proceedings that required hospitalisation. Therefore, are there safety nets that can be implemented to support women during this litigation period? A descriptive study of the experience would be informative and assist in supporting necessary reforms.

The seven women in this study all expressed some level of anxiety and fear regarding their release and reintegration into the community. Their concerns are compounded by the fact that they are convicted murderers. Women who are convicted of murder confront more challenges in regards to re-entry than women convicted of lesser charges (e.g., vehicular homicide or manslaughter). A question remains, as to how do women convicted of murder adapt to release. Were their fears real or imagined? It may be helpful to conduct follow-up studies of women convicted of murder at varying intervals and analyse outcomes. Very little 250 is known of their experiences following prison and information in this regard may help in programming to prepare these women for release.

7.7.2 Mental Health Intervention Once again, the women in my study convicted of murder represent only a small sub-group of women who kill. Six of the women had undergone mental health interventions during court proceedings and two had received treatment prior to committing their crimes. More importantly, six women remain in mental health treatment. At the risk of further pathologising these women, it could be argued that this particular phenomenon is too weighted to ignore. It would be helpful to survey the attitudes and beliefs of prison staff regarding depression and mental health interventions for women convicted for extreme acts of violence.

7.8 Conclusion Briefly, this research explored the identity of seven women by examining how they constructed their identities and with which social discourses they identified. Comparison was also made between the court’s portrayal and the women’s own constructed identity as well as the identity formation among the four women who acknowledged their offending (Bella, Lil, Sarah, and Wendy), and the three women who denied their offending (Claire, Jean, and Jennifer).

I was immediately confronted with two unanticipated findings. First, the demographics and characteristics of the women did not align with the dominant literature. Second, the women did not convey in great detail their experiences and how they served to form their past, present, and future identities. Their identities were far less expansive than anticipated.

Basically, their identities were fixed upon the related themes of victimisation and normative femininity and I was unable to move their narratives beyond these two themes. Within time, however, I began to better understand that the women all sought to re-establish their identity as good women and to distance themselves from their bad and evil identities. The three women who plead their innocence were forced to engage in combat with their accuser - the court, whereas, the four women who acknowledged their offense had to wage a battle with 251 normative femininity. Essentially, women convicted of lesser acts of violence have less repair work to do to reconstruct a positive identity.

In this research there were lessons to be learned. For example, Jennifer captured the phenomenon of a killing by a woman in her assertion that universal explanations of victim, mad, and bad are often inadequate as their lives and offending are far more complex. The courts are strongly influenced by normative femininity and there exists an evident reliance upon the medico-legal experts. The courts also recognise that a woman who kills can make a rational and calculated choice to do so, something which western society has yet to fully understand.

Problems abound within the criminal justice system beginning with arrest, and continuing to trial, and incarceration that tend to victimise women who kill. Feminist criminological research continues to focus upon women who kill intimates with far less known about women who kill acquaintances. Finally, one is reminded that these are women first and foremost and not simply a crime or statistic. During my time spent with the women, I was reminded of this on numerous occasions by Bella who stated, “I’m more than just a crime … I’m more than just a crime, Kate!”

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Appendix

Participation Information Sheet Letter of Invitation Date:

To Whom It May Concern My name is Kate Whiteley-De Graaf and I am a student at the Queensland University of Technology in Brisbane. I am researching women who are serving long sentences for a violent crime. My research is to learn about you as a prison inmate. I will be speaking only to women serving long sentences for violent offences because there is little written about this. I would like to have three meetings with you over approximately two months. The meetings will be casual and personal. Each meeting will be for about one hour. This will include a break if you need one.

Our Meetings  The meetings are only between you and me.  You can pick which questions to answer.  If at any time you are uncomfortable, the meeting can be stopped.  If it is okay with you, I would like to tape record our talks.  After each meeting, I will type up what you said and bring it to our next session for you to read or if you want me to read the transcript to you, I will. You are free to make any changes you want.  If what we go over is acceptable to you, I will keep it for the research. No copies are provided to anyone at the prison.  What you and I talk about is kept under lock and key ay my university.  No one else has access to your story and I am the only person who will write it.  Do not tell me about any crimes you committed of which the police are unaware of.

277

This study is about how you describe yourself and how you understand violence. Speaking with me will not impact your prison sentence.

Consent Form Enclosed with this letter is the Consent Form. If you would like to be a part of this research, please write your name at the bottom of the form where it asks the participant to sign and date. Please do not worry about the witness signature on the bottom of the page. I will sign it in your presence at the beginning of our first meeting. You will receive a copy of the signed Consent Form. I would appreciate the opportunity to meet with you and learn about who you are and your life’s experience. If you would like to work with me, please return the attached envelope.

Prisoner Response Form The Prisoner Response Form seeks to know when you are available to talk with me. I will contact you (via post) regarding when we can meet after you get back to me. If you would like to meet with me and further discuss the research before committing to be a part of it, please let prison administration know this and I will attempt to make contact with you.

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. I hope that I will hear from you soon.

Kind Regards Kate Whiteley-De Graaf School of Justice Studies Queensland University of Technology Brisbane Qld 4059 278

Consent Form

(Please Print) I______agree to meet with Kate Whiteley-De Graaf from the Queensland University of Technology in Brisbane. I understand we will discuss my identity and life experience.

Kate has provided me with all the information necessary to understand her research project and my participation. I have read and kept a copy of the “Information Sheet-Letter of Invitation.”

I agree to participate and:

 I understand my role and what it involves  I know that a counsellor is available to me should I become upset following a meeting  I recognise that this project will not benefit me directly, but may help other women offenders  I can leave the interview at any time  I understand the purpose of the research and I agree to speak with Kate  When the research is completed, I may have a copy of it  I know that what I share is confidential and no one else has access to this information  I agree to the publication of this study  I understand that my actual name will not be used; however, given the small number of women convicted of violent offending, it may be possible for someone to identify me if they searched public records

If I want to speak to Kate about this research, I will tell prison management. Kate will then make arrangements with prison management to contact me. I can also contact the Secretary to the Department of Justice Research Ethics Committee, PO Box 4356QQ, Melbourne Vic 3001.

Signed by you: (the participant) ______Date: ______279

Signed by an independent witness: ______Date: ______

Address of independent witness:

______

Signed by the university researcher ______Date: ____

280

Prisoner Response Form

Dear Kate, I would like to take part in your research. During the months of February and March, these are the best days and times for us to meet. I understand that our interviews may take an hour or more. I will send this form along with my Consent Form and wait to hear from you via the post.

DAYS TIMES DURING THE DAY

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Name: ……………………………………………………………………………………………...

Signed: ……………………………………………………………………………………………

Date: ……………………………………………………………………………………………..

281

Letter Confirming Interview Time

Date:

Dear:

Thank you for agreeing to work with me. Based upon the days and times you sent me, I would like for us to meet three times as follows:

1st Meeting………………………………………………………………………………….

2nd Meeting………………………………………………………………………………….

3rd Meeting………………………………………………………………………………….

If these dates and times are not suitable for you, please let the prison administration know and I will work with you on re-scheduling.

I am looking forward to getting to know you.

Kind Regards

Kate Whiteley-De Graaf

School of Justice Studies Queensland University of Technology Brisbane Qld 4059 282

Follow-Up Letter to Prison Management

Correspondence forwarded to:

Dame Phyllis Frost Centre Tarrengower Prison

Date

Name of Centre Manager Centre Manager Address

Dear

Please find enclosed an interview schedule for the following weeks (………….). I have also provided letters to be given to the women who have agreed to participate in my research listing the dates and times we are scheduled to meet. Would you please forward these letters to the women through your internal mailing system.

Thank you for your assistance.

Yours sincerely,

Kate Whiteley-De Graaf

Ph.D Research Student School of Justice Studies Queensland University of Technology Brisbane Queensland 4059