
Spiritans commit to redress scheme for school abuse survivors in attempt to ‘offer atonement'
Blackrock College
and other prominent schools has made a public commitment to paying redress to survivors of
abuse
in the schools.
In an open letter to survivors of abuse by members and employees of the
Spiritan
congregation, Provincial Fr Brendan Carr announced 'a restorative framework which we hope can help all to arrive at a different place in this painful and difficult journey'.
This, he said, was prepared 'with the help of Restore Together, One Voice, and other significant advocates and individuals who were abused in our schools and other contexts, who have engaged directly with us'.
It 'acknowledges the abuses, failures and omissions of the past, refocuses on the present needs of those who suffered and those carrying pain and allows all to look to and find peace and a different and better future where humanly possible'.
READ MORE
The Spiritans, he said, had established a 'finance advisory team, with the expertise to lead a strategic restructuring of the Province's assets'. It would 'fast-track the development of sustainable funding streams, including immediate and medium-term provisions for redress'.
By last November, 359 survivors of abuse at Spiritan schools had come forward, including the 347 disclosed in the scoping inquiry report on abuse at private fee-paying schools published last September.
[
Spiritans accused of putting own interests before those of abuse victims
Opens in new window
]
In the past when it came to redress, Fr Carr said, the congregation 'engaged through what we understood to be the standard mechanism available – legal negotiations conducted between legal representatives for the Spiritans and the persons making the legal claims'.
He acknowledged this 'was not an adequate response for those seeking safe and healing space for victims/survivors'.
'Advocates and victim-led representations have taught us that a different redress scheme was needed – one that was victim-centred, less adversarial and faster.'
He added that, notwithstanding the expected Government commission of investigation into abuse in schools and its pledge of redress for survivors, 'we Spiritans believe we have a moral and collective obligation to respond to and offer atonement' to those 'whose lives were severely impacted'.
The agreed framework contains four elements which, as well as redress, offers survivors meetings with Spiritan representatives who would acknowledge what happened and apologise, as well as therapy and counselling, and a commitment to memorialise both the suffering of survivors and atonement by Spiritans.
[
Spiritans have paid €8.8m in settlements to 125 abuse survivors since 1998
Opens in new window
]
Fr Carr said the redress scheme was 'but one part of our sincere endeavour and commitment to be accountable at this time for what happened in another time'.
'Child sexual abuse is a devastating crime. It shatters the lives of victims and causes deep and lasting harm to families and friends,' he said, adding that such abuse 'also profoundly affects school communities'.
'I want to publicly acknowledge this impact and offer apology and empathy to the current principals, staff, students and parents of Spiritan schools,' he said.
'Too often, you have found yourselves having to respond to situations in which you had no involvement and over which you had no control. I, of course, extend this apology to the volunteers and employees of SET [Spiritan Education Trust], the body that runs Spiritan schools.'
It was his 'sincere hope', Fr Carr said, that by the end of the summer he could 'provide a further, more detailed update of the progress we are making in forging new paths to create a just redress scheme'.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Irish Times
2 hours ago
- Irish Times
Rare and endangered okapi ‘forest giraffe' is born at Dublin Zoo
A rare and endangered 'forest giraffe' born on Good Friday has been thriving, Dublin Zoo has said. This is the third calf of its kind – one of the few members of the okapi species – to be born in Ireland. The yet-to-be-named calf has two siblings in Dublin Zoo, Dalia and Leki, all born to mother Lumara and father Kitabu. Their names reflect the species' origins in the dense forests of the northeast Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), where they are listed as endangered due to 'habitat loss, hunting, deforestation and civil unrest' in the region, Dublin Zoo said. READ MORE Historically, deforestation in the region was relatively low, with 3,100sq km (1,200sq miles) of forest being lost annually, but from 2015 to 2019 the rate of tree-felling in the DRC doubled, meaning a major loss in vegetation for the species. The DRC has suffered from political instability for years, with rebel groups often igniting conflicts across the region. Since her birth, the calf 'has been growing steadily and showing all the signs of good health', zoo officials said. She has spent her first months in the family's nest and has been 'under the attentive care of her mother', they said. This is typical for the infant calves of the okapi species, their handlers said. Zoo goers exploring the African Plains area of the Phoenix Park attraction 'may be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her in the coming days, and see just how much she has grown', Dublin Zoo team leader Helen Clarke said. The family's habitat is near the northeastern African cheetahs and not far from the Asian elephants in Dublin Zoo. The zoo has supported conservation efforts of the species since 2012 with financial support to rangers in the Democratic Republic of Congo. There are about 15,000 to 50,000 okapi in the world.


Irish Times
6 hours ago
- Irish Times
Trump accuses Obama of 'treason' and 'trying to lead a coup'
Locals in Dungloe have nicknamed a local abandoned housing estate as "the Titanic", as it has been sinking since being completed in 2007. Video: Joe Dunne


Irish Times
10 hours ago
- Irish Times
Dating in your late-30s? Frozen eggs and more will be on the menu
'Just so you know, I've frozen my eggs .' She delicately perched herself on the chair opposite, just as the waiter handed us the menus. I took a quick scan to see if I was missing something. Were frozen eggs on the menu? At the time, I hadn't been on a date in more than eight years. I was just turning 30. Yes, dating apps and the internet existed back then, kids, but what had developed since was a whole new world of etiquette, games, language, and coded behaviours that I was about to be submerged in without a life jacket, trying not to drown. Dating in your late-30s? Frozen eggs and more will be on the menu. Let me be clear: I didn't want to be out there dating again. My five-year relationship had ended – we tried, but it was done – and I started dating out of pure panic. Who would date me? A single father, a stand-up comedian, still sharing a home with his ex? Take a number for that queue ladies. READ MORE My first date, I thought, went well. A quick drink before my gig, nice chats, cool vibes. I closed the date with what I believed was the obvious line: 'I'd like to do this again'. The scrunched-up look on her face still cuts me to the bone: 'You'll probably want to play the field first.' What did that mean? Surely if there's an attraction, we meet again, no? Later that night, the text arrived: 'I just don't want to be your first one back'. It seemed like if I tried, I was doing it wrong, and if I tried to be open and not try, I was still doing it wrong. One date took place in a park. Takeaway coffees, tight schedules – just a 30-minute hello. I left thinking: there's no way we can know anything about each other in 30 minutes. How wrong I was. In that half-hour, she had determined I wasn't ready for a long-term relationship or to have more children within two years. She was on a schedule and I didn't make the cut according to the WhatsApp essay I received the next morning. Bear in mind: we didn't even know each other's surnames. [ 'I was overheard saying my date wasn't very good-looking. Now he's blocking me' Opens in new window ] I did, however, meet some amazing people. And while it's not the official point of dating, I've made some brilliant friends. Some of the biggest laughs came from evenings with a fellow single parent. There's nothing like bonding over shared trauma after sneaking out of the home she still shared with her ex, so we can sip non-alcoholic beers, talk about parenting, Bluey, and how we don't understand why people hate their own children. And then there were the others – evenings of intimacy with some like-minded creative type, someone who got you the second they kissed you. They carried your heart, told you there was nothing wrong with you – before vanishing back to wherever they came from. 'The men don't help themselves. I've seen the profiles: Leitrim jersey; balaclava; holding a fish.' Photograph: Getty Images Of course, there are the truly embarrassing moments. Like driving home late from a gig in Galway when someone I'd never met in person messages: 'House is free, it's my birthday, I've chosen you'. So, at 2am, I'm dropped off on a road, 'could be fun, dude,' says my driver. Ten minutes later, I am pacing around an estate in the rain while her messages have stopped. How do I explain this to a Garda convinced I am not scoping out a house to rob? Taxi, home. The next morning: a flood of texts. Expletives, apologies. She'd fallen asleep. What woke her? The candles she'd lit had set the curtain on fire. She woke up in the smoke and had to put out the flames. Then: 'Are you free tonight?' Followed by her anger at my rejection: 'You can't be serious – that's it?' I get it. Women are scarred by men's behaviour. Many dating conversations were spent listening to stories of ghosting, or about the latest post on the Facebook page Are We Dating the Same Guy? where women post who they're seeing to see if there are any red flags. And the men don't help themselves. I've seen the profiles: Leitrim jersey; balaclava; holding a fish. If not, they can't seem to keep their tops on. No wonder 'the ick' exists. That said, women have their quirks too. Profiles that read like job descriptions: 'You better be able to make me laugh and be emotionally available'. Pick one. Also, loving dogs is not a personality. Neither is wellness. Or yoga. Or your gym pics. [ Online dating: 'Irish people are terrible on the apps' Opens in new window ] Don't worry, I know I'm the problem. Being a comedian doesn't exactly scream stable, grounded individual gliding calmly through life. That's why we do what we do. Does it sting when someone you liked ends up engaged to an accountant? Yes. But also, no. I can't change who I am. And who I am is complicated. 'Do you feel the need to be funny all the time?' is a common date question. The answer? No. I get paid to do that. And sorry if I'm not funny on the date. That guy you saw on stage? I created him. He comes out when I want. I also hear: 'I have to be careful what I say now or you'll use it in your act'. The ego behind that? That you'll say something so genius I'll scrap decades of work just to fit it into my set? Not to mention that I've yet to be on a date with anyone who is funnier than my seven year old. Let me be clear: nothing anyone has ever said to me has made it into my act. However, it may end up in a column.