I go from sound asleep to wide awake instantly and reach for the pager on the stand next to the bed. Its after 2:30 a.m. I grab for the phone and call the hotline operator. I find out that somebody has called in because her partner punched her several times, threatened to kill her, then left. She is at a hotel with a friend. The operator connects us. I start by asking how she’s doing, then we get into the details of what happened. We talk about safety planning for the rest of the night, and whether or not this situation qualifies for an emergency restraining order, and if there is a need to get one. She has already talked to the police several times and she gave them a description of his truck. They have patrols coming through the hotel parking lot every 15 minutes to make sure he doesn’t find her. Throughout the course of the night we speak several times. Mainly to process everything that has happened tonight, the past week, the last 10 years. She has made an effort to break the cycle of violence, now she has a lifetime of work ahead of her.

I worked at two different domestic violence shelters when I was in my mid twenties. The first as a volunteer where I primarily mentored several young boys who were staying in the shelter with their mothers. The second shelter I worked at for almost 4 years doing a variety of things ranging from taking hotline calls, to making hospital and court accompaniments, to working with child survivors of domestic and sexual abuse.

I was frequently asked what it was like to be a man working at a domestic violence shelter. A lot of people also asked why I did the work. Both were really good questions. To the latter it just seemed like a natural extension of the feminist philosophy and politics that I had come into contact with in college and was still grappling with into my mid twenties. As to the former question I always imagined that all crisis work was somewhat similar. At the place I worked the majority of the crisis counselors were young, and this was their first job out of college. The hours were long, and you could expect to be on call at least one night a week (you don’t sleep very well when you expect the phone to ring, or the pager to go off at any second) and the pay was minimal. Yet we had the knowledge of knowing that we working a difference in people’s lives everyday, and we could literally see the differences we were making in our clients’ lives.

Domestic Violence 101

At its core domestic violence is about power and control, and abusers utilize any and every method of control (i.e. emotional, psychological, economic, physical, etc…) to ensure that they get what they want. Furthermore, abusers typically go through cycles where they may act out physically, then apologize for their behavior, promise to not do it again, then do something worse the next time. This pattern can go on for years and years and during this time period the victim is broken in every way imaginable. Many victims escape from their abuser to face a world (and friends and family members) that blames them for staying in an unhealthy relationship, and in many cases victims are no longer equipped with the skills to function on their own because they had lived for so long in a world that was centered around pleasing the abuser and trying to ensure that they didn’t do anything to cause him to get angry. At the programs I worked at it was standard for victims to engage in self-esteem work as part of their counseling. And at times this counseling extended to working with victims on basic life skills, such as opening a bank account, or balancing a check book.

A common misconception about domestic violence is that it primarily impacts poor people. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is a problem that knows no class boundaries. I worked with politician's wives, attorneys, stay at home moms, and countless others. It didn't matter how much money they made, or their partner's made. They were still in abusive relationships.

Two Years Later and Counting…

Its been several years since I left DV work and its very much is in my consciousness. I still think about a number of the children and adults I worked with, and wonder where they are and how they are doing.

Another thing that has amazed me is the number of female friends I have had since starting DV work, who have told me about incidents from their own lives. It catches me off guard that so many people I know in their mid to late twenties have suffered at the hands of an abuser at such an early age. But each story reifies the knowledge that the struggle to confront abusive behavior must continue.

The onus of this struggle must be taken up by other men, since we are by and large the abusers. As the earlier pieces in this series suggested that means taking on not only patriarchy, but racism, homophobia, and the countless other systems of oppression that function to privilege straight men in general, and straight white men in particular.

I welcome other people’s thoughts, and in no way consider myself an expert on domestic violence. If readers are out there that have also done similar work please share your experiences and your thoughts…

A few books that I have come across during my travels that I would highly recommend:

Refusing to be a Man by John Stoltenberg
anything written by bell hooks
Against our Will by Susan Brownmiller
A Language Older than Words by Derrick Jensen