A dirt smeared little girl climbing my chain link fence said emphatically, “My Daddy beats my Mommy.” This changed small talk over a cigarette to information on the shelter that gave me a fresh start. For the life of me I couldn’t remember the name of the shelter, just the address. I know that address by heart; it was my first home coming back to this city. The name was gone but the address rolled off my tongue as if I still lived there or something. I don’t though; I live domestic violence free and have since 1994. (The address to the center is not confidential. The building is marked with the name. For me, that name means safety.)
The lady out side of my fence was barely more than a child with two small children of her own, both shoeless, one in pajamas and the other in desperate need of a bath. She said she left in a hurry and was waiting for a ride. While it was just small talk she said she’d forgotten her lighter when she left in such a rush. I didn’t catch the hint. It was her 4 year old daughter that filled me in.
When I told this pre-woman she was better than being beaten she didn’t flinch. She didn’t have a look of disbelief nor surprise. It was as if it bounced right off her ears and rolled into the street behind her. She never heard me. She might have been in shock I mean she did just rush out of her house with her children to avoid getting hit. I also recognized a look of shame on her face after I told her about the shelter. She lost eye contact with me for a second but a few sentences later she looked at me with very empty eyes, like nothing would ever change, like this is how her life is going to play out and there’s nothing she can do to change the course. I know that feeling. I know that look too because it’s flashed across my face more than once. But the look on my face today is very different. It’s funny because while I never thought I deserved to be beaten I certainly never thought I was above it either. Perhaps that’s what she was thinking. I don’t deserve to be hit. I’m also not above being hit.
Who is above being hit? How “good” do you have to be to live in safety? What would have to change inside to make a person leave a domestic violence situation? Does it matter if he or she has been a prostitute on Hollywood Blvd for the last 10 years, that they’ve taken every drug known to man, that they’ve seen and done things that they’re horribly ashamed of? No, it doesn’t matter. “You’re better than that,” means you as a human being should be treated as a human being regardless of past mistakes and failings. Does “you’re better than that” mean the person has a spotless background and has never committed a crime and is an upstanding citizen? No, “better” involves movement, it implies progress, a turn from worse to better and eventually to good. Your life may not be the model of “good” today but it doesn’t mean that it can’t improve. As long as your heart is beating there is time for change. As long as you’re breathing there is time for “better,” better for you and for your children.
When the young woman’s family rolled up I told them what the domestic violence shelter did for me, how they brought me via private vehicle from Louisville, Kentucky to Indianapolis and housed me, fed me, helped me find a place to live and helped me stay away from my ex-husband. I told her the exact address and about how clean it is and how safe it is. I told her that only now do I enjoy domestic peace. I hope she uses this information. Tomorrow is mother’s day. A domestic violence free home would be a great mother’s day gift to herself.
These are my hurried thoughts on what happened outside my fence today.
Domestic Violence Stops In My Home
Saturday, May 12, 2007-1:59PM EST
Wow, how cool to think you might have been a stepping stone of sorts along this woman’s pathway toward restoration of her self-image, and healing! Good for you, Austin, for helping a total stranger. One never knows what good a word spoken at the right moment might do. I hope she checks out the homeless shelter, rather than caving in and going back to her “man” (bully.)
What a wonderful thing you did for that woman. So many people ignore domestic violence. They’re usually the same people that ignore child abuse and elder abuse.
I hope she’s able to go to the shelter. I hope she’s able to leave that “man”. I hope she’s able to rebuild her life.
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Austin
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I’ve threatened abusers before but not even they should be beaten because it’s not like they’re going to learn their lesson. They’ll feel as powerless but in order to regain some sort of feeling of power they’ll go and abuse someone else. Not even they should be beaten then set free
That story brought tears to my eyes. And your final line was something I would like to see used as an ongoing Mother’s Day campaign.
As a sidenote, my brain kept sending out “Wait! you can’t tell the address of the shelter!” information; that, I think, is because I worked for several years at a domestic violence shelter whose address was confidential, and I’m assuming the one you spoke of didn’t have a confidential address. (And the funny things the neighbors thought about what all of those women were doing going in and out of that house at all hours! Quite a few were *certain* it was a crack house…. although why the police should take people *to* a crack house, I never could discern.
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No, the address isn’t confidential but it is highly secured.
“take people *to* a crack house” yeah, that would kind of be odd huh? Here let me give you a ride! LOL
This place is so clean too, clean, quiet, but most of all helpful. They brought me here from KY via private vehicle. The shelter in KY drove me half way and a worker from the shelter here brought me the other half of the way. It was quite amazing. And I had a private room. I forgot to add that part. I didn’t have a roommate. It was me with a nice, and I do mean nice, room to myself.
Yesterday I started not to get out of bed. I had nightmares something awful and laid in bed for an extra long time. Had I not gotten up I would have missed the chance to celebrate my life of freedom and pass on information that might get her on the road to hers. I was so happy I got up.
Austin