Domestic Violence
Journal of A Vista Worker
Jill Baker, VA '92

When I was invited to participate in this VISTA Reader project, I struggled for several weeks trying to decide what to write. I knew I could talk about the poverty I experienced as a VISTA or the isolation of working at a project 700 miles from home with the closest VISTA volunteers almost 70 miles away. Or I could write about moving from the suburban Midwest to the rural South and the resulting culture shock. Any of these topics would have been easy to write about, and I did try to write about them, but the words just weren't there.

After much agonizing and many crumpled sheets of paper, I finally realized that what I needed to write about was the experience I have had working as a VISTA in a domestic violence program. I remember the reactions I received from other VISTA's at PSO when I said I was going to be doing outreach at a shelter. Most said, "Oh, that's interesting" and left it at that. But when I told this to several women, they were suddenly sharing their own personal stories with me: rape, violent husbands, childhood sexual abuse. This was something I had not expected. These women did not look like victims, but if you looked closely, in their eyes you could see shadows of fear, shame, guilt, pain, anger, innocence stolen, trust broken, self-esteem shattered. Later, these women and I talked about Loreena Bobbitt slicing off her husband's penis and I heard understanding and saw looks that said, "That could have been me."

This was the start of my VISTA experience, but there is more to tell. There is my experience going to court as an advocate for one of our clients. After 20 years of abuse she decided that she had had enough. Now I sat with her as, voice shaking, she described to the judge how she had been kicked, hit, slapped, raped and insulted for years. Then I held her hand as her husband angrily denied his violent behavior and challenged the legality of my presence in the courtroom. As her advocate, the judge let me stay and our client was awarded the protective order she had been seeking. Finally she had been heard, and more importantly, believed. The first leg of her journey toward freedom from abuse was over and the change in her was amazing. The woman who left that courtroom was stronger and more confident than she had been in a long time.

I have seen injury. Black eyes, bruises from being thrown into walls, cuts and scratches, broken, swollen lips. One woman's husband had beaten her so badly that the emergency technicians initially thought that her neck might be broken. Fortunately, this wasn't the case, but as a result of her injuries, her life will never be the same, she has trouble concentrating and problems with her vision going in and out of focus. She is also scarred from previous beatings. An arm that was broken by her husband has never healed properly. There is a large bump where the break was. There is a scar on one cheek where a ring her husband was wearing scratched her when he slammed his fist into her face. And these are only the physical scars - the emotional ones go deeper and last much longer.

And I had to write about the children. They are witnesses to domestic violence and are frequently (silent) victims as well. Theirs are the saddest stories as they are dragged into the cycle, unwilling participants. Much damage is done. Boys from violent families often grow up to be abusers, the girls often end up in abusive relationships. Man controls, woman submits - this is the form of love they are taught.

But there have been glimpses of hope. one evening there was a celebration at the shelter after a resident and her abusive husband appeared in court for a preliminary hearing. The judge decided to pass the case on to the grand jury with a charge of malicious wounding. This was the first time in 15 years of marriage and abuse that she has followed through on charges against him. This time he almost killed her. This time he will not get away with it. So pizza was ordered and shelter residents and staff toasted her success in court. Shyly, the woman's daughter announced that when she grows up she wants to open and direct a battered women's shelter. We all agreed that this is an admirable goal. The celebration continues.

Later that evening, however, I find myself hoping that this little girl (young woman, actually - she is almost a teen) does not get to fulfill her dream of starting her own shelter. I hope that when she is an adult, there won't be a need for battered women's shelters. I told this to mother and daughter the next day. They looked at each other and smiled. Yes. This is one dream they hope does not come true.

As I write this, I have been a VISTA volunteer at this domestic violence shelter for almost 13 months. One year didn't seem like enough time to do the work that needs to be done, so I have extended my stay.

As I write this, OJ Simpson sits in jail in California, accused of murdering his ex- wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and her friend, Ronald Goldman. America has been given an alarming wake-up call - domestic violence does not happen in just poor, undereducated families. It is happening in million-dollar homes in Los Angeles. Indeed, domestic violence knows no bounds.

As I write this I am still angry about a column I read in yesterday's Richmond Times-Dispatch. The male columnist has declared that all the recent hype about domestic violence is nothing but "myth, bad stats, and general misinformation." The ideas he puts forth in his column are dangerous and seemingly random, a clear and blatant example of the backlash. A letter to the editor is definitely in order!

So despite the poverty, the isolation, the different culture, and other challenges I have faced and will continue to face as a VISTA, I will stay a bit longer. There is more work to be done. It is the eve of a new day.