Sly Castaldi, working for change
Sly Castaldi, a University of Guelph alumni, once sat among her peers in the same lecture halls we now occupy and listened raptly as a guest lecturer, the Director of the Stonehenge Therapeutic Community, discussed his work with addiction. Castaldi, riveted by his ability to actively enact change, would soon shape her career with his words in mind.
In her time at the centre, Castaldi has seen the organization go through some monumental changes.
Castaldi has worked for Guelph-Wellington Women in Crisis for 30 years and has been the Executive Director for the last 15. Castaldi began by working part-time on weekends, but she soon realized it was “not so much a job as a calling.” When Castaldi speaks of her job at Women in Crisis, it’s with a calm ferocity that reveals her commitment and passion to the work. When asked about what drew her to the centre, Castaldi spoke about how “this felt like the possibility of change and working towards women’s equality rights was very real and very important.” With every question, her warmth and tenacity make it clear why she has had an impact on countless women.
In her time at the centre, Castaldi has seen the organization go through some monumental changes. What was once a rape crisis line at the University of Guelph in 1977 and a basement apartment for sheltering women who have experienced abuse in 1978 has grown into a vital service operating out of Guelph’s downtown core that now provides services to around 1,400 women a year.
On Dec. 6, 1989 the Montreal Massacre occurred. The gunman claimed he was fighting feminism as he opened fire on women within l’École Polytechnique. Following the tragedy, the reality of gendered violence became undeniable. This tragedy acted as a catalyst for feminist discourse in Canada and as a call to action. Castaldi has borne witness to the rise of the “no means no” slogan and the #MeToo movement and has yet to waiver in the fight to end violence against women, which is the Women in Crisis’ mandate.
However, Castaldi acknowledges that the work can be difficult, with some years feeling as if they’re fighting against a tide of opposition. Castaldi admits with a rueful grin that she “thought change would be faster and more obvious.” Bogged down by the politics of funding, administrative hurdles, and the snail’s pace of social change, ending violence against women is an everlasting, but meaningful, struggle.
Working with vulnerable populations as part of an organization like Women in Crisis requires the patience of a saint and an eye on the end goal, Castaldi concedes, and most importantly, a thick skin. When Castaldi first began working at Women in Crisis, they were battling immense myths about sexual assault, fighting against stigma, and working under a cloak of secrecy. According to Castaldi, it ultimately it boils down to this, “societies are judged by how they treat their most vulnerable populations and we can do better.”
If Castaldi’s positive attitude and philosophy of always working towards change feels too good to be true or an unrealistic picture of idealism in the face of adversity, look no further than the following anecdote for confirmation that it really is about the little things having an impact.
One night, Castaldi calls a restaurant to make reservations and upon giving the man on the phone her name, uncommon as it is, there’s a pause. The man asks incredulously, “Sly? I know a Sly.”
Castaldi, who admits she doesn’t know what possessed her to make this assumption, replies “Did you happen to stay at the shelter when you were little?” The man admits, “I remember you from Marianne’s Place.”
The young man on the phone proceeds to tell Sly that after his mother left his father, and their brief stint at the affiliated Women in Crisis shelter Marianne’s Place, his father understood the severity of the situation, sought counselling, and they were capable of reconciling.
“Watching people get their lives back, in whatever form that takes, piecing it back together or rebuilding it. That’s huge.