It feels “good” to care for domestic violence survivors; to
offer cell phones or other goods to shelters and programs; to donate money to
deserving organizations that do shelter, counseling, advocacy, and support for
victims of extreme harms. But there’s a reason why these victims take so long
to leave hurtful relationships, it has nothing to do with strength or weakness
and everything to do with our values.
We don’t value domestic violence programs or services. If we
consider our monetary focus as value, in the United States it’s simple to see
we value sports and entertainment to the tune of hundreds of billions of
dollars. When we ask domestic violence programs to constantly find government
grants or fundraise to survive tells us a lot about the lack of value we have
for these services, and in the issue as a whole. Workers in domestic violence
agencies get paid poorly, get little recognition or support, and many key
services are staffed by volunteers (and sometimes interns) with little
training.
History plays a big part in our apathy toward domestic
violence. It’s been a strong value for things in the home to stay in the home.
Sayings such as “a man’s house is his castle,” enforce ideas of patriarchy and
control on their own. The book, “Domestic Tyranny” by Elizabeth Pleck details
historical responses to domestic violence in the United States noting, “the
Puritans regarded outside intervention as disruptive, justifiable only to the extent that is restored family order.”
Yet this small community in colonial Massachusetts set out
to “reform the moral code” and address family violence in the mid-1600’s. They
did so through church-based courts. The practice ended in the early 1680’s when
Great Britain instituted colonial law.
Therefore, in some ways we cared about domestic violence in
the 1600’s - for about 40 years. Similarly, in the late 1800’s, the United
States had several “Societies for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children” which
worked to address family violence. This movement also lost momentum after 30-40
years. However, the care we showed in those years is similar to the care we
have today. We like to cover our asses within professional communities by
making sure we follow guidelines but don’t press much farther than that for
fear of stepping on too many toes.
It’s no small coincidence that law
enforcement communities only started to step up their response to domestic
violence after Tracey Thurman sued the Torrington, CT police department for
failing to protect her from her violent husband (and won a $2.3 million
judgment). We care about losing money, and it’s a great motivator for change.
But it is a strange place we find ourselves today regarding
how we address domestic violence. Funding, though minimal, exists for agencies
serving victims and survivors of domestic violence. Very little financial
support is provided for any work to guide change in domestic violence
offenders.
For much of society, abusers are seen as incapable of
change. It is easy to demonize their behavior by focusing on things like I mentioned
in Part One of this article: to maximize the external harms and minimize our
culpability in societal support for violence against women and children. Since
we do not believe domestic violence offenders are human beings, we don’t think
they can change - we certainly do not want to provide money to agencies and
programs to try and stop violence and abuse.
We’re a “lock ‘em up and throw away the key” sort of
country. Out of sight, out of mind – right?
Domestic violence intervention programs (aka batterer
intervention or other similar designations) are disorganized, poorly connected
to each other, often have superficial linkages to domestic violence counseling
and support agencies. We often use piecemeal models of intervention based more
on individual facilitator whim than concrete and effective tools and
educational lessons. We have very shoddy research on such programs, for the
most part, that investigate agencies and programs that use national models –
yet the national models themselves are not researched for effectiveness.
Then we have to consider what it even means to be effective
in domestic violence work: does it mean a victim/survivor gets out of an
abusive relationship and lives happily ever after? Does it mean an abuser
doesn’t get arrested again?
A radical notion about domestic violence is that it is not a
mental health issue, it is not a substance abuse issue – it is a BELIEF issue; an
ENTITLEMENT issue. One could even argue it is a SPIRITUAL issue involving an
individual’s values and meaning in life that sit in places of personal
advantage and superiority. How do you measure those things? By surveying people
using 1-5 Likert scales? That seems a poor method of capturing how someone sees
value and meaning in their relationship with their partner and children.
I suppose we could conduct more longitudinal studies that
survey victims/survivors (and perpetrators) over several years – but surprise!
There’s no money in that, very little funding, or very specifically directed
funding sources that target traditional research methods.
Maybe it is the fact that domestic violence is an
entitlement and belief system issue that keeps us from caring about ending it,
or preventing it, or talking about it in a useful manner. Many societal values
are superficial – they involve rituals and practices that put a high priority
on being happy at the expense of being human. The so-called “American Dream”
was about acquisition, after all, not about relationships of care, health, and
support.
Previously discussed, Pleck details in her book that
historical systems of policy intervention in family violence have lasted 30-40
years. Perhaps we are at the end of that timeline in current history. It seems
unlikely services for domestic violence victims and survivors will just end. It
seems increasingly likely they will stagnate and miss working within
communities to change societal beliefs.
It sadly appears there is little desire
to coordinate domestic violence intervention services for abusers as being a
critical part of ending domestic violence as a whole. We seem to be increasing
our ability to at least have the awkward and uncomfortable discussions about
oppression. Maybe we might start to see that intersectionality is a key to
understanding how to intervene in violence.
It is my hope we truly start to care about domestic violence.
Frequently, I say I like to think about how people in a hundred years will look
back at the work we do today. How will they will see the failures and successes
in our responses? It keeps me moving forward in this work despite the
disheartening avoidance of facing the issue in real and authentic ways.
Note: “Domestic Tyranny” by Elizabeth Pleck can be found at http://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/catalog/87bwk5bk9780252029127.html
More information on “Thurman v. City of Torrington” can be
found at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thurman_v._City_of_Torrington
