Author: Rebecca Councill

As one of those who have been around in our field pretty much since its inception, I came into our work at one of the darkest times in my life. There at the beginning, I got to be part of something that I did not know was to grow and develop into what it is today. Never had I been at the advent of something.

Then, which was 1975, I had my great, “for a woman,” nice middle management job at the research and training arm of Texas Department of Mental Health and Mental Retardation in the Texas Medical Center where one of my station did not make policy. Policy came down from on high.

This was the beginning of the resurgence of the women’s movement. Women would ask me if I had seen this coming and gotten ahead of the curve. Nothing could have been farther from the actual reason. My unstable marriage needed the comfort of knowing I and the children could survive if the rug were pulled out from under us.

I endured a long and terrible divorce. Like being on a roller coaster screaming to get off, but not being able to until the ride was over, the ride finally stopped. I staggered to the platform. Little did I know then what working to help end violence, abuse, and control of women following would be my life’s work.

The lesson learned is sometimes darkest days guide us to new meaning, value, relationships with wonderful, talented, ethical, and dedicated others. And in so doing, women got to hold the wrench and to create policy.

Although we would not teach children math using only the odd numbers, as schoolgirl I was taught history (his-story) learning only about men. One of the joys of my adult life has been reclaiming “herstory” by learning about the lives of my foremothers.

Two of my favorite women are Sarah and Angelina Grimke, sisters from South Carolina born into a white wealthy slaveholding family who rejected that life and moved north to became abolitionists and women’s rights advocates.

Unfortunately, my early attempts to add women back into the historical narrative were very whitewashed. My current effort is learning about the amazing contributions of women of color. For example, an early feminist of North America is a Mexican woman named Juana Inés de la Cruz (1648-1695). She was a poet, writer, philosopher, and Hieronymite nun who advocated for the education of girls.

I’m grateful that Women’s History Month gives us an opportunity to learn about these important women and their remarkable stories. We stand on their shoulders.

On January 19, 2021 police officer Sarah Cortez wrote an opinion piece (“Want police reform? Put yourself in a cop’s boots”) that argued against defunding the police and made the case for the primacy of the role of the police when it comes to answering domestic violence calls. Although I appreciate her service, I don’t share her opinion. As an advocate working in the domestic violence field for over 25 years, I have seen the unintended consequences of addressing domestic violence through primarily a punitive police response.

Clearly, the police have a role to play in the domestic violence response. However, their skill set is narrow, and everything looks like a nail when you have a hammer, or a gun. Rather than call for de-funding the police, I would make a call to re-allocate funds to advocates to form a partnership with police that would increase safety and access to services for victims and their partners who use violence.

In my work with the Harris County Sherriff’s Office, I have heard law enforcement working in the family violence unit express displeasure about responding to domestic violence calls, believing they did not have the skills or training to successfully handle such situations. In pilot projects that teamed officers with advocates the police were most often impressed with what the advocates could add to the interaction, increasing the safety of all involved, including the officer. Qualified social workers can help de-escalate mental health crises that law enforcement officers don’t get nearly enough training for but are expected to provide.
Relying on police officers only for domestic violence response is especially problematic for communities of color. Women of color often hesitate to call the police on their violent partners for they fear a lethal outcome. The victims want the violence to stop, but do not want their partners killed before their eyes or face an often-racist criminal justice system. Since they cannot call the police, the domestic violence remains unresolved.
There also needs to be more options other than jail for a partner who uses violence. In jail they cannot contribute to the financial support of their families or learn skills in anger management or how to address issues of power and control.

Advocate intervention can prevent future escalation of crisis by providing connection to resources and advocacy. Social workers are trained to assist citizens in a non-lethal, non-coercive manner. Social workers are also trained to listen to the victim and let her wishes guide the intervention. The police still have a role to play in removing or arresting the violence offender, but that cannot be the end of the interaction, but rather the beginning. Victims need long-term safe housing, trauma intervention, and a multitude of other services. Otherwise, root causes are unaddressed, and the violence continues, along with the urgent calls to the police.

Re-allocating police funds does not mean abolishing the police, but rather providing the police with appropriate advocate partners who have a different and complementary skillset. Currently, nonprofit domestic violence service providers are underfunded and over-burdened. Having access to increased funding would allow us to serve more clients more efficiently and effectively. A newly envisioned partnership between police and advocates would benefit victims and improve the relationship of the community to law enforcement.

The multi-generational pain of violence within families demands innovative solutions. Calls for either defunding or abolishing the police only fall short of what is needed. We need a reallocation of money and resources and the addition of trained advocates to respond to domestic violence calls. The lives of domestic violence victims, and police officers, depend upon it.