Advocacy Beyond Leaving

When things get tough, the tough get going. Isn’t that what the school of cliche phrases says? When I heard this saying during my teen years I always imagined it meant that tough people bolted. They took action. They ran away. I think I imagined that because I believed it took courage and strength (i.e. toughness) to leave a bad situation. What I didn’t think about in those moments was how tough one had to be to endure a bad situation.

Sometimes in life we invite bad situations on ourselves. Sometimes they’re forced upon us and we can’t change the circumstances. Either way, there is a show of strength present in living through something bad. Much as there is great strength and fortitude in leaving or getting away. One of the most difficult things for me as an advocate has been to work with people who either cannot or will not leave abusive relationships. It happens a lot. It hurts my sensibilities sometimes, because my goal is to stop violence and someone choosing to remain in a violent relationship (whatever the reason) leaves me sad. Still, as an advocate my role is not to tell people what to do but to provide a supportive environment to listen while they draw up their own plans.

Futures Without Violence is an organization devoted to stopping violence. They have been kind enough to publish a tool called Advocacy Beyond Leaving. This book is designed to help provide those who stay with resources for safety planning. The guide explains reasons why someone might choose to stay in an abusive relationship as well:

The reason will be unique to each victim. In general, victims remain if leaving will make  their lives or their children’s lives worse, they have no real option or resources to leave, or there are enough positives in the relationship to make it worth putting up with some level of violence and control. When a victim remains in the relationship, her children do too. Even if she leaves their father, the children are still likely to have at least some contact or relationship with him and his family.

The booklet is worth reading in its entirety but it can be used piecemeal to examine certain aspects of staying in abusive relationships as well. Check out the back to see a guideline of points that can be discussed when speaking to someone who chooses to stay.

Most importantly, understanding that sometimes it isn’t possible for everyone to leave is a key step to providing advocacy. Though this is difficult (and I encourage any advocate who has emotional concern as a result to talk with sanctioned and appropriate parties about said concerns, keeping it within privacy guidelines of course) it is ultimately the best way to serve the person who is receiving counseling. While it would be easy to sit on the phone and repeat over and over again that you won’t help unless the individual leaves, it is more fruitful to tell someone that you understand them and that you are there to help through whatever decision is made.

Martin Luther King Day of Service & My Love for Advocates

I belong to several survivor message boards and when I start to feel especially down about my own bad experiences (or I start to feel that I’m “irrevocably screwed up” by them) I sometimes take a deep breath, go over to one of these boards, and try to help other people. It’s a lot easier to use this sort of energy through the internet than it is to do it in a more formal setting, such as over the phone or in a shelter. There is distance, anonymity, a promise of privacy, but also a deeper understanding of equality. Though everyone comes to the forums in different states of health and healing, everyone shares two things: 1) they have been hurt, and 2)they have the capacity to heal. It’s humbling in many ways to be part of a community like that. I find that it also helps my advocacy through outreach, because I see stories and experiences of so many diverse and wonderful people that I know better how to capture the attention of those who must be reached to effect change.

“Why I’m an advocate” has always been a difficult position to explain. At least for me. I’ve sat in rooms and read the testimony of many people who seem able to quickly, decisively, and forthrightly answer that. For me, I don’t think I understood myself well enough when I took on advocacy as a personal goal. I better know, now, that it’s a multifaceted and complex issue, but one which is driven directly by compassion and love for other people. (Even as I, ironically, can’t always let myself trust other people.)  I have known hurt but I have known healing. I have known heartbreak but I have known security and comfort. I want others out there, everywhere, to know the uplifting side of human experience, and to feel part of this same community of growth.

Today is Martin Luther King Day of Service. I want to honor and thank the millions of people out there who are giving their ongoing efforts to various causes around the world, and particularly in the United States, since this is a United States event. (Not to discount those in other locations who are also doing amazing things!) Community change is not a simple matter. It takes personal resolve and strength to make changes. Coming together with those who don’t agree with your position takes collaboration and compromise. Learning to work with people who impart different values is one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced in my advocacy work. It’s not easy but it’s a part of growing. I want all of you advocates and volunteers (as well as full-time paid and non-paid staff and champions) to know how much I respect you and the time, energy, money, love, grease, and sweat you devote to what you do. You are amazing and am very happy to know that you exist and live in my world. Congratulations to you.

Goodbye to VAWA & A Reintroduction to National Stalking Awareness Month

It frustrates me, as I know it frustrates and angers many others, that VAWA was not reauthorized. As an advocate, I’m frustrated because this limits resources I can suggest, and as a survivor of violence, it just irritates me on the basis that politicians seem, after 19 years of cooperation, to have allowed themselves to be sidetracked away from discussions of human misery and human survival.  VAWA had become very misunderstood in recent months. The media treated it as though it were new and emergent legislation, when in reality, it had been in place for the past two decades, and had been authorized under bipartisan agreement.  Sadly, I don’t know what this is going to mean in the long-term future. Is it possible that private institutions will take up the cause? I can only hope.

Of course, we can make the argument that it’s not just violence against women, but violence against people. This argument is undeniably true but it still seems ludicrous to me to stop helping one population of survivors just because there are other populations of survivors out there.  As you may know from reading this blog, I’m a huge advocate of aiding under-served survivor populations, such as men and people who are LGBTQ-identified. This doesn’t mean that women do not deserve assistance in making their survival easier. VAWA was always a good “first-line” step to helping everybody.

Can we send Congress to VAWnet’s 1-hour course on domestic violence?  I do realize that there is not realistically time to send everyone in Congress to a one hour training for every important subject that comes up, but seeing as this one is near and dear to my heart, I just want to argue for it a little longer.

Incidentally, January is National Stalking Awareness Month. Even if you can’t get involved on a large scale, you can voice the campaign through social media. There’s even a list of twitter and Facebook status update templates you can use. There is also an interactive quiz to help gauge your level of knowledge on stalking. In light of the VAWA failure, I feel more committed to promoting this month than ever. For example, did you know that only approximately 40% of all who are affected by stalking report to the police? That’s a small percentage and one which deserves attention for better future services.

Quiet Advovacy Series #1: Overhearing Tough Stuff

Child abuse is a pervasive problem in the United States. We know this and we accept it yet we don’t want to talk about it. Talking about the harm done to children is difficult. It’s sad, disappointing, and it often touches on a very vulnerable part of the psyche. Kids are vulnerable, and we want to protect them from harm. When they are subjected to hurt, it can hurt us adults as well or it can remind us of our own childhood experiences.

I mentioned in a recent post that it’s very difficult to support loved ones in times of trauma. Part of it is because having to think through the negative things that happened to a loved one can produce secondary trauma or even just a set of difficult feelings. I was having a conversation with a friend in which I pointed out how I get queasy when I think about abuse I know friends survived. It’s not that I don’t feel bad or sad when working with clients but my emotional investment is different. With friends, we have a multi-faceted ongoing relationship. With clients, we have a more limited relationship and I have a very specific role.

Some coworkers talk repeatedly about their childhood beatings. This is their terminology, not mine. It upsets me greatly to have to hear it throughout the day, not simply because they talk about it but because they talk positively and happily about acts I consider abusive.  They sometimes use these conversations to advance the idea that their own children should be (or should have been) beaten. Recently one coworker fondly described being forced to hide under her childhood bed, beaten smacked with sticks and switches, and getting pulled about by her hair and clothes, and seemed to suggest it was all very much deserved for her behavior. I’ve listened to many such conversations in my workplace and find them exponentially difficult to endure silently once they start saying “But it didn’t do me any harm” or “I turned out fine.”

Every time I hear one of those cliched lines, I find myself wanting to say, “But you want to beat your own kids! What do you mean, ‘fine’?” Of course, this is an emotional reaction because the subject is near to my soul, and what I usually end up doing is taking a number of deep breaths and staying silent. I don’t necessarily consider this to be the best approach for handling such moments but I’m at work and don’t always have the luxury of responding in the manner I’d use elsewhere. So I stay quiet.

Unfortunately, that quiet is far too common. When people like me (trained advocates and survivors with firsthand experience of just how badly things can turn out) stay quiet, others can easily come to believe that abuse is healthy.  So I present the proposed two-part guide to handling situations like this one:

1. Respond. My personal goal is to respond calmly, succinctly, and reservedly. In other words, not to overshare and not to respond with too much voice quivering. (That second part is harder than the first.) The response should be an elevator pitch. “You sound like you’re having an interesting conversation.” can lead to a very quick “Abuse and trauma have many forms. Understanding how to prevent them can lead to healthier communities and individuals.”  Of course, the diplomacy of how to get there is still a confusing issue for me. On the one hand, I don’t really want to go up to coworkers and start saying “You were abused! You have to realize!” or “That behavior is totally unacceptable.” It causes many people to freeze up and become unreceptive, but it’s also rude and apt to start trouble in a place where I need to maintain ongoing working relationships. Nonetheless, the response should be made in some form. Even if it’s to ask more about what’s going on. “What made you want to talk about that today?” “What do you think of that after all these years?” Some form of perceptive listening and guided questioning to rev up to a more involved and open dialogue. Ultimately, while I lack the particulars on what to say and how to say it, I know that a response of some kind is necessary. I also know that the individual situation will determine how it will play out.
   
2. Educate. Not necessarily in the same moment or in the same group but make a wider effort to outreach in those locations. In the past, I’ve taken fundraising for my advocacy to work, and I’ve also solicited volunteers (who want to become advocates) through workplace efforts. It’s not bad to share experiences, and leave the opportunities open and available. I’ve done this, also, by leaving symbols of my volunteer efforts at my desk. A quiet reminder of my advocacy life has actually led some people to ask me questions or to seek out services. Honestly, I find not being ostentatious about it is the best. A clandestine magnet or ribbon can go a long way in desk decoration and also in inviting others to ask what it’s all about.

Really, I wish I didn’t have to hear stories I find sad when I’m doing my day job (since my day job is not specifically related to this type of advocacy) but when I do, I want to have my own coping strategy. I’ve still been trying to make self-care a part of that, particularly because the ladies sometimes touch on stories that make me cringe with remembering my own traumatic experiences.

I am not a professional in this field. I merely offer my opinions and thoughts as they occur to me based on my own experiences. I am willing to listen to alternate viewpoints and discuss variant scenarios but I do reserve the right to remove comments and data I find to be offensive and against my primary purpose of helping survivors.

 

Edit: Unrelated, but please go read Fem 2pt0’s Policy Wishlist for 2013.

Helping Friends

It’s really, really, really hard to support loved ones who go through trauma. I know that from so many intersecting perspectives, I might as well be an unsolved Rubik’s Cube of possible advice scenarios.

I find it hard to know how to give good, concrete advice to people who are not clients or customers of my advocacy services in a formal setting. At least sometimes. When it involves good friends who bring up stories about themselves or their other loved ones, the situation is vastly different than it would be if I were sitting with them in an emergency shelter or counselor’s office. Many new advocates are taught to consider what they would say to friends but I don’t necessarily find that advice helpful. I talk to friends with a very different sort of emotional investment than I use to talk to someone with whom I don’t have an ongoing personal relationship. It make sense, of course, because my personal involvement is very different.

I don’t have any particular deep bits of advice or self-care on handling these things right now. This is more about sharing my experience. It’s rough and I sympathize with anybody who has to go through such.

Black Friday through a Black Window

And it officially turns into the holiday season.

Even in families with completely loving members who lack sordid histories, holidays can be stressful times. You might love someone but not want to be crammed into a crowded house with him/her for a 72 hour period while you are also away from your routine comforts. That’s just human nature. I love my sister dearly but would not want to take a cross-country road trip with her in a four door sedan. We’re better suited to a relationship where we hang out in each other’s homes, go shopping, eat meals, and then part ways. It’s not because our connection is broken but rather that we’re the type of people who value our alone time and personal space. I suspect that many people can relate to this when it comes to friends and family both.

If you tack on difficult family members and bad family situations, holidays become less concretely about love and respect and morph into minefields of negative gossip, rumor, and frustration. The cultural messages dictating that Thanksgiving and Christmas are times of peace and love, of family and togetherness do not help ease frustration or mixed emotion for those who have less than flowery experiences of time spent together. I’ve seen it many years in emergency shelters. Families feel sad or lost because they’re not at home or don’t answer the phone calls from former partners and partners’ families. They haven’t done anything wrong by leaving an abusive situation but it hurts when a five year-old asks “But why isn’t daddy here?” or a twelve year-old demands “Can’t I go back to Grandma’s house?” Family is a complex concept, and one worthy of far more scholarly attention than I can devote to it in this blog. Still, holidays arouse these kinds of emotions and experiences for so many, including myself.

For years I had internalized the idea that Christmas was magical. And by magical, I mean that it would always end up being a good day no matter what other horrors or bad things preceded it. Everything would be great. No fighting, no sickness, no dying, no sadness. I also firmly believed in my youthful naiveté that my magical understanding was global. Nobody could be sick or sad. No one would fight or die. Not a single soul anywhere in the world. This illusion broke apart for the first time when I learned about friends who had not been visited by Santa Claus (despite believing in him) and when I heard from classmates who had been spanked, grounded, or otherwise punished at Christmas time. I don’t know if I recognized the disconnect between my magical facade and my actual holiday experiences. Somehow I think I was too young. This revelation had far more power in my adolescence when I started to avoid family gatherings.

Besides, my family Christmas experiences were mixed. We’d have a great time on Christmas Eve. Everyone would be cozy while reading stories and finalizing ornament placement on the tree. Sometimes Christmas mornings were wonderful. Other times they were nothing but in-fighting with yelling and accusations. Sometimes they were slightly more violent. Extended family visits could take the same tracks but with a number of younger cousins running around and having none who were older or close to my age, I usually would find a quiet chair and read alone. Sometimes I’d write stories. Typically, though, being alone until dinner was my tactic for getting through most of those celebrations. As anyone dealing with large groups of children will tell you, there was a lot of turmoil. Fighting, arguing, playful violence, and loud voices were common. It’s certainly not abnormal but it stressed me out, made me feel frozen and miserable in many circumstances. Among the most difficult were the times when my younger cousin (younger but similarly sized) would attack me and I would be blamed and punished for his attacking me. Then we’d all have nice dinners and open packages and smile and take photographs and be happy. I suspect this is a fairly normal holiday experience with a large family gathering, though. I share it not because I think of this as the worst possible scenario for a holiday (far from it, actually) but rather to show that I’ve got a varied set of experiences when it comes to the holidays.

At a certain point, after my grandmother passed away close to Christmas (just a couple days before), and I began to realize that my family had not actually always been kind to me, I started to flee from celebration. I didn’t want to be reminded of going to a funeral two days before Christmas. I didn’t want to think about how her death caused all of the positive family traditions to be as much broken apart as the negative ones. I didn’t want to sit through dinners of civil conversation when I knew that I had been abused by the people with whom I passed dinner rolls. And this is where I think that complexity regarding family becomes very, very important. I love them. They love me. I’ve done less than awesome things, such as lying to them, or failing to help out as requested. Some of them verbally and physically abused me for years. But I’ve also done good things for them and they’ve shown love and kindness to me in ways that go beyond the bounds of mere obligation. Again, it’s very, very complicated. I would not suggest to someone else that they have to recognize the good their abusive family members did for them. (This being different from having them characterize an abuser as a person with flaws and virtues.) I simply wish to state that I recognize that about my own situation. It doesn’t necessarily make it any easier to handle going home at holiday time. In fact, I generally avoid it as much as possible. This brings about its own measure of guilt.

Because this is a time of the year that causes increased stress and grows the potential for difficult emotions, I’ve formulated a list (what a surprise, right?!) of tips that I’ve used to help myself get through hard spots. I don’t want to suggest that these are things you must or should do. These may not be things that work for everybody. This is merely what has worked for me and I want to share my experience.

1. Set boundaries. If it seems obvious, that may be because it is. Nonetheless, actually making the commitment to create and honor boundaries can be very difficult. Determining those boundaries in advance is important because it helps me to know when I’m getting close to a bad point. So if I tell myself, “I will go to Christmas dinner but I will not stay past 9 PM,” it sounds reasonable and workable but someone begging and pleading with you to stay later can easily derail such ideas if not firmly established. (Of course it can still be the case that things don’t work out as planned, and this should not be used as an excuse for self-punishing behaviors or thoughts, but it’s something to use as a learning experience.) I try to set boundaries on conversational topics. For instance, if someone starts telling me I’m failing because of my relationship status or career choice, I will end that conversation and walk away. That’s one of my most important boundaries, actually.
2. Have an escape plan. It seems a little sad to me that I have to create an excuse to get out of family holiday events but I think it also means I’m better able to relax into those situations, knowing I have a way to get out if I need to. A plan that allows me to save social face, and prevent angry disturbances is usually best. My typical way of handling this is to have someone on board to send me a message with unclear information so I have a reason to call them and get more details, at which point I can use them as a means to leave if needed. It is dishonest, certainly, but it is also a polite method of preserving the peace, and in many cases, I actually think that it’s okay to keep myself safe and well in those situations. I also handle this by making plans for a specific time so my visits at holiday time are limited. “I’ll need to be home by 9 PM, so I need to leave no later than 5 PM, etc.
3. Rely on self-soothing techniques. You might think I’m talking about getting all boozed up but I’m not. Especially at these types of events, I avoid alcohol like the plague. (Not that I’m much of an imbiber to begin with.) Instead I refer to those things that help me through other bad spots, like the ten second count, deep breathing, stepping away, and having internal dialog to respond to negative comments from others with reassuring positive ones. “You’re a terrible daughter” turns into “She’s upset and stressed out and you know this is not true.” It doesn’t really mean it hurts less. It merely means I have the strength to get through the situation.
4. Have alternative celebrations. If I consider family time to be largely an obligation rather than a celebration, I figure that I still need to have time and space to do actual festive celebrating. This means I set up plans with friends and people I’ve invited into my life as caring and compassionate individuals. I might have a party, or I might merely sit with them and watch bad Christmas specials. The point is that these other events bring me a kind of joy I may not be able to experience when I go home. I have actually tried to help clients recognize that they are entitled to joy and to know that they’re “allowed” to create it for themselves if they so desire.  Actually, there have been many times when I’ve been both happy and excited to engage in celebrations with clients who seem to be genuinely enjoying themselves. It makes us all feel better to find joy where we can.
5. Realize that I have another family. Much like I have learned to create alternative celebrations, I have tried to encourage myself to realize that my friends are every bit my family as well. And these are people whom I trust and love and who respect me and care for me in a way that my blood family may not. (This is not to say that my blood family doesn’t love me or care about me, but my friends care for me in a different way.) I try to remind myself of this fact because I do believe that my output of joy and intake of love are linked to own well-being and my own efforts, but that there are people out there who care for me. And even if there aren’t right now (though there are) that I can seek them out in my own time.

Of course, I still struggle greatly with celebrating holidays with family. These bits of advice help to mitigate my problems but they don’t cure me. I’m probably never going to feel completely at ease with going home at Christmas or Thanksgiving. (If I go at all.) I certainly hope that won’t be the case for the rest of my life and I work to try to make it less and less of a problem but right now, the reality is, it’s just a time when I suffer mixed, difficult feelings. I sympathize greatly with people who have hard times with the holidays (whatever the reason) and I wish them the best.

I am not a professional in this field. I merely offer my opinions and thoughts as they occur to me based on my own experiences. I am willing to listen to alternate viewpoints and discuss variant scenarios but I do reserve the right to remove comments and data I find to be offensive and against my primary purpose of helping survivors.

Safety Planning

People who are experiencing relationship violence can make a safety plan whether they choose to stay in or choose to leave the relationship.  If you are an advocate working with a client, make sure he/she feels safe and comfortable before discussing how to develop a strategy:

• Can the client talk right now? Is it safe to talk?
• Does he/she want to work on a safety plan?
• Are all considerations being discussed, e.g. does the client have any special needs or concerns that should be explored?
• Does the client understand the safety plan he/she created? Can it be followed even in a moment of crisis?

Technology and internet safety planning are vital.  With the ubiquity of GPS-enabled devices (smartphones, tablets, and cars) it’s very important to be aware of how devices work and what can be done to create an additional level of protection with them.

There are a number of states and localities with anti-violence projects. These are coalitions and agencies which connect to stop violence against people who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, or queer.  As an advocate I’ve worked with many people who have reported violence in a variety of relationship circumstances. While nobody should ever have to experience intimate partner violence, many people who are in same-sex relationships face additional social and life challenges as a result of abuse.  These should be considered in creating a safety plan.

Also, remember when working with clients, to emphasize that they are not at fault for the abuse they suffer. Abuse is always someone else’s decision and actions. The same can be said for providing support for friends and family. Safety planning is a tool to help those who suffer injustice; not a means to make them feel responsible for abuse.

Staying

Why do we ask victims Why do you stay? Why don’t we ask abusers why do you abuse? 

Anti-violence advocates frequently engage in this dialogue. I understand why, as I’ve asked the questions myself.  We don’t want to victim-blame.  We sometimes want to focus our frustration at the people who actually do the hurting.

Yet, had no one ever asked why do you stay we would not have any understanding of the reasons and complications that make it hard or impossible to leave an abusive situation.  Much as I would advocate that we should very definitely ask abusers why do you abuse, I think we should ask the question. Of course, it should be a fact-finding mission, not one set up to incite blame or pressure.

What this means is that we really need to listen to people who report violence. We need to be present, focused, and aware of what they’re telling us. Maybe the information about why they can’t leave or don’t leave is already in the conversation we’re having. Think of how these sort of questions might be answered in an advocate’s conversation with a client (even if the questions themselves are never asked) Does she threaten your children? Does he say he’ll harm your pets if you go? Do you lack finances to be out on your own? Do you feel like you don’t actually deserve any better? 

I happened to come upon a link to a discussion about this subject and found it interesting how people responded to the original poster. The discussion seems to be more about understanding what actually constitutes violence than specifically about the reasons people stay. Still, I’m glad people are talking about the difficult subject.

Partners in Prevention

I am resharing this post from Fem2pt0 for DVAM.

Breaking the Cycle: Standing Up Against Domestic Violence

 

Perpetual Prevention

“For every death attributed to cancer, America spends $794 in prevention, intervention, and research; heart disease, $440; and for AIDS, $697. These are all worthwhile investments and should continue. For every death attributed to violence, we spend $31.”

Source: http://www.preventchildabuse.org/advocacy/downloads/PCAAmericaAdvocacyGuide.pdf

What are the implications of this report? Anti-violence prevention work is not a priority over other public health and safety concerns? Our society doesn’t recognize the degree to which violence IS preventable? There is an underlying belief that deaths from violence aren’t common? Or maybe people believe that we all recognize already the degree to which violence is present in our world and we don’t need the same sorts of campaigns and prevention to stop it from becoming lethal. Perhaps apathy is at the heart of such matters. It’s difficult to draw out a single theme from this small bit of information but it does align with the understanding we have that child fatalities from abuse are not uncommon.

“A nationally estimated 1,560 children died from abuse and neglect in 2010. This translates to a rate of 2.07 children per 100,000 children in the general population and an average of four children dying every day from abuse or neglect.”

Source: http://www.childwelfare.gov/pubs/factsheets/fatality.pdf#Page=2&view=Fit

As an advocate I often think “But don’t we all know this already?” which isn’t really a fair thing to put on other people. I work with these statistics and data constantly. To me, the’ hidden’ problem of child abuse is not hidden and I see its devastating effects as clearly as I recognize that we don’t actually talk as much about these problems openly as I’d like.

It’s hard to talk about child abuse. It’s especially hard to talk about deaths caused by child abuse. I say this because, by and large, people don’t want to think about kids getting killed. Pondering on children being murdered or beaten to death is sad and frightening. Much as discussion of any sort of abuse can be painful and horrible. But we have to talk about it in order to understand and prevent it.

Every April when it’s National Child Abuse Prevention Month, there are numerous campaigns and discussions about helping to keep kids safe. When the blue ribbons and pinwheels fade out, the conversations tend to lose their clarity and focus. We shouldn’t have to have specific months of the year to highlight prevention because prevention should be an ongoing activity. While I certainly don’t disapprove of having additional media awareness I’m disheartened that we don’t keep this kind of awareness in a brighter light. (I think the same could be said for most public health and safety awareness, though, from the aforementioned cancer to preventive health tips such as teaching people to take better care of themselves.)

Part of the reason I began this blog (aside from wanting to work through my own trauma and share my experiences) was to keep prevention at the forefront of advocacy efforts. It’s not easy, honestly, to find ways to communicate these facts and ideas but I’m still going to try.