Domestic violence, depending upon the perspective, conjures variant and often competing meanings. It may signify a political objective to a politician seeking stiffer penalties for abusers. Perhaps domestic violence represents hatred for an adult male whom was victimized as a child. It may even mean a biased belief from an upper-middle-class woman, refuting that domestic violence transpires in indigent societies only. For me, it represents a predominantly ignored sociological problem facing every nation, socio-economic status, religion, race and sexual orientation. Despite the amount of court cases clogging our Criminal Justice System, domestic violence seems to be written-off as a rarity or victim provocation. Just recently, an in-law's comment "She must have done something to deserve it" to my description of a victim suffering minor brain damage because of multiple and prolonged strangulations by her abuser stupefied me. My shock to this insensitive comment bewildered my in-law. In fact, many reading this article have been abused at some point in time in their life.
I work as a shelter advocate at a local domestic violence shelter. Though my 2 and-a-half years doesn't qualify me as an expert nor a veteran, I've witnessed enough humanity to realize a full compass of emotions. It's certainly no picnic taking a crisis call form a distraught mother whose daughter was murdered by an ex-boy friend. Just as heart wrenching is working with a client whose face and body bare witness to frenzied abuse in the way of multiple lacerations and cigarette burns. It's necessary to understand that domestic violence is only one of many issues facing the majority of shelter clients. Alcohol/drug addition, lack of education, past/childhood victimization, poor financial management, unemployment - to name a few - plague most shelter clients.
When I first began, I believed it would be easy to detach myself from theses situations. After all, I received an exemplary education and training that honed this. Detachment at first came easy, I prided myself on this. Encountering each successive situation, however, seemed to soften me. Soon enough, my emotional spectrum turned from detached professional to "man-hater." After all, wasn't because of them that domestic violence. I truly felt compassion and anger for these victims, and I would often berate myself for not doing more, not advocating enough. It was during this time in my emotional spectrum that a group of us founded a transitional living housing for women and children exiting crisis shelters. After all, most victims return to their abusers because they can't locate affordable housing. My co-founding efforts would definitely address this need . . . right?
As months transpired, I continually witnessed women and children returning to their abuser, despite the transitional living program and a litany of other social service agencies and programs geared towards this segment of the population. It almost seemed many clients rarely utilized these agencies, and if they didn't, most wouldn't complete the programs to assist them in becoming independent. To watch a mother work very hard to successfully secure employment for the first time in years, as well as locate safe and affordable housing, and then to have to be the advocate to inform her she needs to leave shelter as illicit drugs were found in her room is nothing short of frustrating. Shelter clients with no history of drug and/or alcohol abuse is the rare statistic. Taking all of this in, I still told myself there's something I'm missing. Something I'm forgetting to do. Something I'm forgetting to say . . . why is my advocating for victims' rights and independence failing?
As I was in the process of wrapping-up my co-founding responsibilities, I experienced a profound epiphany; successful advocacy required survivors to work harder than me at becoming independent. Advocacy is about presenting options and letting survivors choose their path, regardless of any obvious outcomes. Advocacy is accepting, unconditionally and without judging, the opinions and choices these survivors make.
Almost overnight my "man-hater" emotional spectrum status registered anger at myself for being so naive and irritation towards victims making repeated mistakes. After all, abusers are successful because they have participants that enable their behavior. The tragedy in the cycle of domestic violence isn't just that a victim subjects him/herself to repeated and elevated levels of violence, it's also the truly innocent victims that are repeatedly exposed to danger - the children. Not only are children victims of an abuser's actions, they're also victims of poor choices made on their behalf.
It would take months of journaling and a purging of emotions before I softened. Although I'm no longer angry with myself or irritated with victims, I can't deny that I was naive. The quintessential truth about domestic violence is that it will always exist; there is not a shortage of willing aggressors nor compliant participants. At this stage in my work I've heard and witnessed every argument about why so many return and endure abuse, many of which are undeniable points that do make leaving abusive environments extremely difficult. The fact remains, however, these victims have made very poor choices.
These aforementioned survivors are the stories and faces of domestic violence, and despite a gamut of readings on my emotional compass, I do enjoy advocating for them. Knowing that victims have made bad decisions, I also recognize that as humans we are called to serve others, regardless if our advocacy efforts change their life. Every human is worthy of dignity and respect, even if efforts are done in vain. My work in domestic violence has taught me that being an advocate is extremely emotional, frustrating, agonizing . . . . I guess the pursuit of justice is rarely an easy path.
No comments:
Post a Comment