Full Download Responding To Domestic Violence: The Integration of Criminal Justice and Human Services 6th Edition Eve S. Buzawa PDF
Full Download Responding To Domestic Violence: The Integration of Criminal Justice and Human Services 6th Edition Eve S. Buzawa PDF
Full Download Responding To Domestic Violence: The Integration of Criminal Justice and Human Services 6th Edition Eve S. Buzawa PDF
com
https://ebookmeta.com/product/responding-to-
domestic-violence-the-integration-of-criminal-
justice-and-human-services-6th-edition-eve-s-
buzawa/
OR CLICK BUTTON
DOWLOAD EBOOK
https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-istanbul-convention-domestic-
violence-and-human-rights-1st-edition-ronagh-mcquigg/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/violence-against-women-and-
criminal-justice-in-africa-volume-ii-sexual-violence-and-
vulnerability-1st-edition-ashwanee-budoo-scholtz/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/behavior-change-in-the-human-
services-6th-edition-martin-sundel/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/violence-against-women-and-
criminal-justice-in-africa-volume-ii-sexual-violence-and-
vulnerability-1st-edition-ashwanee-budoo-scholtz-emma-charlene-
lubaale/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-routledge-international-
handbook-of-domestic-violence-and-abuse-1st-edition-john-devaney/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-stop-domestic-violence-program-
group-leader-s-manual-4th-edition-david-b-wexler/
https://ebookmeta.com/product/the-sage-handbook-of-domestic-
violence-1st-edition-todd-k-shackelford-editor/
Responding to Domestic Violence
6th Edition
To the millions who endure and survive and to those who protect and support.
Responding to Domestic Violence
The Integration of Criminal Justice
and Human Services
6th Edition
Eve S. Buzawa
University of Massachusetts, Lowell
Carl G. Buzawa
Attorney
Barbara Hart
Pennsylvania Coalition Against Domestic Violence
SAGE Publications, Inc. All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. copyright law, no part of this
2455 Teller Road work may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in
a database or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Thousand Oaks, California 91320
E-mail: [email protected] All third-party trademarks referenced or depicted herein are included solely for
the purpose of illustration and are the property of their respective owners.
SAGE Publications Ltd. Reference to these trademarks in no way indicates any relationship with, or
endorsement by, the trademark owner.
1 Oliver’s Yard
55 City Road Printed in the United States of America
London, EC1Y 1SP
ISBN 978-1-5443-5127-8
United Kingdom
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
SAGE Publications India Pvt. Ltd.
B 1/I 1 Mohan Cooperative Industrial Area
Mathura Road, New Delhi 110 044
India
Acknowledgments xix
v
CHAPTER 16 • The Coercive Control of Children,
and the Institutional Response: Contributed by Evan Stark 555
References 621
Index 685
DETAILED CONTENTS
Acknowledgments xix
vii
The Impetus for Change 48
Political Pressure and the Feminist Movement 49
The Role of Research in Promoting Change 51
Early Research 51
The Evolution of Research Supporting the Primacy of Arrest 52
Specific Deterrence 53
General Deterrence 53
The Minneapolis Domestic Violence Experiment 54
The Replication Studies 55
Omaha, Nebraska 55
Milwaukee, Wisconsin 56
Charlotte, North Carolina 56
Colorado Springs, Colorado 57
Miami, Florida 57
Reanalysis and Reaction to the Replication Studies 58
Legal Liability as an Agent for Change 59
Summary 61
Discussion Questions 61
References 621
Index 685
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
F irst and foremost, we honor the individuals who have suffered terrible violence, coercive
constraints, terroristic threats, and enduring trauma or loss of life inflicted by intimate
partners. The authors recognize the courage of those who refused to remain silent, submissive
to the spouses and partners and society that relegated them to closets of shame and despair,
tolerating the unspeakable abuse condoned by society and its institutions of subordination.
We gratefully recognize the courageous people who listened to the voices of survivors
and began the revolution, the movement to end the violence and subordination of intimate
partners. Most especially we humbly acknowledge the battered women who were the first to
step up to expose the scourge of woman battering and call upon the nation of feminist activists
to bring an end to domestic terrorism. The risks they took were enormous. The change they
demanded ultimately transformed (and continues to mobilize fundamental metamorphosis of)
gender roles and rights across the globe.
For practitioners and scholars of all disciplines dedicating your lives, careers, and study to
intimate partner violence and various strategies to protect and serve victims and/or to reform
perpetrator beliefs and behavior, you have contributed immeasurably to this revolution over
the past 45 years of the movement. The authors are profoundly indebted to you and honored
to have played some small part with you as colleagues and teachers. For those signing up to
participate in this justice and liberation movement, we welcome you with a tad bit of envy and
curiosity about your rich opportunities for innovation and investigation and your trans-
formative contributions to the revolution. To those with whom we have labored closely, alas,
you are too many to name. We treasure you. Thank you.
xix
chapters on civil legal protections, child custody, the impact of domestic violence on children,
child welfare interventions, community engagement, victim services, and the role of risk
assessment in societal response to domestic violence. We broadened the focus to reflect the
powerful realization that relying so heavily on criminal justice response may not prove to be as
effective as was initially hoped.
The reader will find considerable changes in this volume from previous editions. Most
notably, there is a greater focus on victims. As a result, there are several new chapters
including the chapter “Special Populations at Risk,” a chapter entitled “Victim Services,” and
a chapter on “Coercive Control.” In addition, because of the growing awareness of the
problem of stalking, we now have a new chapter entitled “Intimate Partner Stalking,” which
focuses on this important issue. There is also a new chapter, “Civil and Criminal Protection
Orders,” and all remaining chapters have been substantially or completely rewritten in
accordance with the growing body of research in the field.
xx ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Eve Buzawa, PhD, is Professor Emerita in the School of Criminology & Justice Studies at
the University of Massachusetts Lowell. She served as Chair of the School from 1995 to 2013,
and Director of the School from September 2013 to June 2016 when she retired. Dr. Buzawa
received her Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of Rochester and her Master’s and
Doctoral degrees from the School of Criminal Justice, Michigan State University. Dr. Buzawa
has authored and edited numerous books, journal articles, and monographs in the field of
domestic violence. She has also served as a Principal Investigator on several federally funded
research projects as well as directing numerous state-funded research and training projects.
Dr. Buzawa’s expertise encompasses the issue of domestic violence in the United States
and globally. She has served as a consultant, trainer, and speaker to numerous agencies and
organizations throughout the world and was the recipient of a Fulbright Award in 2016. Dr.
Buzawa is Past President of the Society of Police and Criminal Psychology, Past President of
the Northeast Association of Criminal Justice Sciences, and past Board Member for the
Academy of Criminal Justice Sciences.
Barbara J. Hart is an attorney, advocate, scholar, organizer, and public policy analyst. She is
among the multitude of women activists who cofounded the battered women’s movement in
the mid-1970s. Commencing in 1978, she shepherded efforts to draft and implement civil
protection order statutes across the country. For 30 years thereafter she fostered an informal
national network of advocates, attorneys, and judges who collaborated in the development of
state and federal law (i.e., criminal, civil, family, and administrative), public policy, litigation
strategies, and “best practice” professional guidelines designed to protect, restore, and liberate
domestic violence survivors. For upwards of 25 years, she directed several national technical
assistance initiatives on “violence against women” and has consulted in numerous venues on
research related to violence against women.
Ms. Hart is a cofounder of several groundbreaking organizations, including but not
limited to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, the National Clearinghouse for
the Defense of Battered Women, the Battered Women’s Justice Project, the National Center
on Protection Orders and Full Faith and Credit, and the Domestic Violence Resource
Network. Ms. Hart has authored several hundred papers on domestic violence, some of which
appear in a collection of her work on the BISCMI.org website.
Ms. Hart established the Batterer Intervention Services Network of Pennsylvania,
convening accountability and monitoring meetings among BIP providers and women’s
advocates. Her efforts served as a national model for collaborative work between survivor
advocates and BIP providers. She organized the first national meeting addressing both the role
of men in the domestic violence movement and standards for BIP services.
She coauthored several sections of the federal Violence Against Women Act(s). She was
on the team that developed the Model Code on Family Violence for the National Council of
Juvenile and Family Court Judges. She convened the panel of representatives from a dozen or
xxi
so Indian nations to produce Violence Against Native Women: A Guide for Practitioner
Action. She also participated in the design and analysis of the first multistate study on batterer
intervention programs (BIPs) for the National Institute of Justice (NIJ).
She served as a consultant and speaker for numerous federal, state, and local agencies. She
has received numerous awards and honors, among them are several from Presidents Clinton,
Bush, and Obama.
In retirement, she continues to write monthly columns for The National Bulletin on
domestic violence prevention.
She was battered. Her partner’s violence propelled her into organizing for justice for
battered women.
1
safe home networks, safe-escort services for college women, and women’s political caucuses.
What they learned as they honed their skills in organizing services for women was extraordi-
nary. Knowledge built on knowledge, and skill upon skills. They embraced the adage—“The
personal is political.” The women’s movement was born in nooks and crannies across the
country.
Betsy Warrior, a formerly battered wife, joined a “consciousness raising” group, Cell 16,
in 1968. Members examined the subordination of women by men within and beyond intimate
relationships. They began advocating for equal pay for women, affordable childcare, and
reproductive rights. The group campaigned against unpaid labor by homemakers, wife abuse,
and the inequality of women in the workforce. Within 1 year, Betsy produced several articles
of economic analysis; the most influential of which was Housework: Slavery or a Labor of Love?
in which she posited that wife beating was an occupational hazard of the housewife who,
because of being deprived of monetary remuneration for her labor, lacked resources and
recourse to escape “male-patterned violence.”
Contemporaneous with Betsy’s experience and 600 miles west, Barbara Hart was being
battered. Persuaded by women colleagues in Students for a Democratic Society, she joined
their women’s consciousness-raising group. She was the only woman in the group to reveal
that she had been battered. The other women were stunned and offered her shelter in their
homes where she devised plans for leaving her violent partner. Stalked and kidnapped several
times by her batterer, she fled across the country to Washington, DC. A childhood friend
provided shelter. Shortly thereafter and in Barbara’s first semester in law school, the house-
mate’s former husband, a severe batterer, abducted the friend’s young daughter. Barbara and
the men in her law school team began lawyering, persuading the criminal and civil courts and
the FBI to restore the daughter to her mother. Eighteen months later, the child was returned.
The team founded a women’s legal clinic at the law school. The clinic fast became a tutorial
on sexual and intimate partner violence, subjects not appearing elsewhere in the law school
curriculum.
Marjory Fields established the matrimonial unit at South Brooklyn Legal Services in
September, 1971. Her education on domestic violence began immediately as most clients were
battered women desperately seeking protection from violent partners. Marjory identified gaps
in the NYS civil protection order law, and successfully prevailed upon state legislators to
amend expanded relief into the law. News of the extraordinary safeguards for abused women
in the NY law spread like wildfire among poverty law programs across the country. A flood of
requests for law reform consultation arose. Marjory met with legal services organizations and
legislators in 34 states to advise on both statutory language and strategy to move legislation to
enactment. In 1976, and thereafter in quick succession, all 50 states and territories enacted
civil protection order laws. See Chapter 12 within.
On a May afternoon in 1972 a woman telephoned Women’s Advocates in St. Paul,
Minnesota. She needed shelter. Sharon Vaughan (2009), a founder of the St. Paul program,
recalls:
The call was … from Emergency Social Services. A worker said a woman was at the
St. Paul Greyhound bus station with a two-year-old child. To get a job, she had
traveled 150 miles from Superior, Wisconsin, with two dollars in her pocket. What
were we expected to do? Where would they stay after two days at the Grand Hotel?
One of the advocates borrowed a highchair and stroller and we took them to the
apartment that was our office. These were the first residents we sheltered. The two-
year-old destroyed the office in one night because all the papers were tacked on low
shelves held up by bricks. His mother didn’t talk about being battered; she said she
wanted to go to secretarial school to make a life for her and her son. She tried to get
a place to live, but no one would rent to her without a deposit, which she didn’t
have… . After a couple of weeks, she went back to Superior, and every Christmas for
Meanwhile, Tillie Black Bear of the Lakota Sioux Rosebud Nation formed the White
Buffalo Calf Women’s Society, a spiritual group of women seeking safety, justice, and well-
being for women and children on the reservation. They housed battered women and children
in their homes. They honored battered women in the traditional “women’s dances” at cele-
brations of the Rosebud Nation. Tillie regularly packed her van with Society members and
her daughters for what was to become regular trips to Washington, DC to educate Congress
and various federal agencies of the entrapment of battered women in relationships with violent
partners and to seek support for funding of battered women’s programs.
In 1974, Betsy Warrior wrote Working on Wife Abuse (later entitled Battered Women’s
Directory), the first international directory of individuals and programs advocating for battered
women. It was 30 pages long. Eight editions followed, with the last in 1989; it became 300
pages. The Directory provided statistics on wife abuse, articles on the history of work on behalf
of battered women, discussion of the motivations and utility of male-patterned violence, a
review of the legal options available, papers by men working to combat sexism by counseling
abusive men, and a bibliography on woman abuse as well as advice from emergency room
doctors treating battered women. It included guidelines for setting up shelters, hotlines and
support groups for battered women. Published long before the age of computers, email, and
social media, the Directory became an important aid to networking among communities of
women organizing to end intimate partner violence.
Deep in the heart of Texas, Debby Tucker and friends started the Austin Rape Crisis
Center in 1974. Within 2 months of opening the Center in the Episcopal Seminary, the room
which had been used as a bedroom for overnight “crisis line” volunteers was converted into
emergency housing for women raped by their husbands or partners and afraid to go home.
Visiting priests suggested that the Center needed more suitable arrangements to shelter
battered women. A committee was formed, and by June 1977, the Austin Center for Battered
Women opened.
Activists in Oakland, CA and NYS filed class actions against their respective police
departments in 1976, charging gross failure to protect battered women and to comply with
arrest laws. Scott v. Hart sought a change in the Oakland Police Department nonarrest policy
on response to domestic violence. The OPD’s “Training Bulletin on Techniques of Dispute
Intervention” stated that the role of law enforcement is as a “mediator and peacemaker” rather
than an enforcer of the law. The OPD settled in 1979, agreeing to stop training officers to
avoid arrest in domestic violence cases, to treat each case on its own merits, to allow the
plaintiff’s attorneys to do weekly squad trainings with the police, to hand out resource cards to
victims, and to donate money to local battered women’s shelters. The NYPD similarly settled
Bruno v. Codd before it went to trial. The two lawsuits inspired advocates for battered women
to confront the nonarrest practices in many other locales. Laws authorizing warrantless arrest
upon a determination of probable cause in domestic violence misdemeanor cases were enacted
thereafter.
In 1976, battered women’s advocates in Pennsylvania concluded that an alliance of all the
shelters and domestic violence service centers in the state could harness their collective power
to transform the consciousness and discourse of the public about domestic violence, to engage
all sectors of the community in efforts to stop the violence, to expand justice-making within
the legal system, and to gain funding for support of domestic violence programs. They also
recognized that each organization had much to learn from each other for building programs
that would provide battered women with the support and resources needed to escape the
violence and to achieve safety, security, and justice. To these ends, they formed the first
statewide network of domestic violence programs, the Pennsylvania Coalition Against
Domestic Violence. One intense conversation of the founders was—What do we call this
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 3
phenomenon of wife abuse in a way that might be more politically expedient, or in other
words—less radical or feminist, as we approach governmental bodies for law and policy
changes in addition to funding, and as we reach out to philanthropic sources, the public, and
battered women. “Domestic violence” seemed to work. The term was vague, but it didn’t
describe any other phenomenon in the public discourse of the time. They believed that
“domestic violence” could be readily understood to be violence toward women by their
intimate partners. The name distinguished the issue from “family violence” which until that
time focused on child abuse. The term was a hedge against anti-feminist attacks. It was clear to
the founders that much political work would be necessary to convince the public that women
were suffering dreadful violence and coercive controls by their current or former husbands or
boyfriends. At the time, common belief was that women were exaggerating or causing any
partner-based violence they experienced. Some Coalition members objected to what was seen
as pandering to the victim-blaming beliefs of the dominant culture. The pragmatists prevailed.
The term “domestic violence” is now understood world-wide to be, at the very core, violence
against women in intimate partnerships, and it now includes recognition that men and
people in bisexual and same-sex relationships may also be targeted for abuse by their intimate
partners. (Other terms for “domestic violence” have been adopted. “Intimate partner
violence” became the “term of usage” advanced by researchers, and “gender-based violence” is
the term in process of reaching movement recognition for the “woman abuse” or “wife abuse”
of movement origins.)
In Bethel, Alaska, a community accessible only by cargo planes and fishing boats, in 1977
a group of women, later known as the Tundra Women’s Coalition, began outreach and
education on the alarming incidence of sexual assault and other violent crimes against women
in their community. That fall, they opened a crisis-line in the home of a volunteer. They
renovated a Quonset hut leased from the town and opened a shelter for battered women and
children in 1979.
In Boston, batterers were calling battered women’s hotlines, some attempting to locate
their abused partners and others ostensibly seeking help to end their violence. Women’s
advocates at Transition House and Respond asked their male partners and friends to do
something with the men battering intimate partners. The men—most in their mid-
20’s—responded, sometimes with trepidation, but with deep concern that whatever they
developed would not further endanger battered women. In 1977 they founded EMERGE, the
first abuser education and group counseling program for men in the world. Accountability to
battered women was a fundamental organizing principle. To that end, EMERGE reached out
to the battered partners of their clients to inform them about the EMERGE curriculum, to
support women’s safety, to inquire about risks to survivors posed by abusers, and to refer
survivors to battered women’s programs. The EMERGE collective sought feedback on their
work from both battered women and women’s advocates.
Unlike most domestic violence organizations in the country at that time, Refuge House
was organized in 1977 as a traditional social service agency rather than as a grassroots,
explicitly feminist, organization. The victim advocate in the office of the state attorney in the
2nd Judicial Circuit of Florida, Beth Rom-Rymer, was the inspiration for the shelter in the Big
Bend area of northwest Florida. Newly arrived from Chicago, Beth was familiar with the
burgeoning shelter movement there. She put out a call to community leaders, urging the
critical need for a domestic violence shelter. The five individuals who accepted her invitation
to a planning meeting represented the Leon County Commission, the community mental
health center, the state attorney’s office, the sheriff’s office and Florida State University. The
group anticipated that securing start-up funding would be challenging. It was not. They were
encouraged to apply for a grant from the federal Law Enforcement Assistance Administration
under the auspices of the local Community Development Block Grant agency. They did and
were immediately awarded a $10,000 grant. With this seed money Refuge House rented a
house and hired a director.
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 5
language access, immigration representation, and crisis hotline support. While many programs
attempted to deliver comprehensive assistance, few were able to provide a full range of service.
More than 11,000 requests for service could not be met; 68% of which were for emergency
shelter or housing. Funding shortfalls resulted in the loss of almost 800 components of program
services across the country in 2019; for example, 109 programs reduced or eliminated legal
advocacy or representation (National Network to End Domestic Violence, 2020).
The battered women’s movement has forged a revolution that circles the globe. The
societal response to victims of domestic violence and offenders—of all races, faiths, economic
classes, physical and mental abilities, genders,1 sexual orientations, and ages and in thousands
of neighborhoods from massive urban environments to remote rural enclaves—challenges
men’s age-old prerogative to hurt, demean, control or otherwise subjugate their female
partners. In addition to the proliferation of community-based services for victims, the revo-
lution includes three other major components that are the focus of this text: (1) criminal and
civil laws and justice system responses to domestic violence; (2) resources to protect and
restore abused women and their children and to hold perpetrators accountable and committed
to intimate partnerships free of violence and other coercive controls; and (3) the development
of a vast and exponentially growing base of knowledge on every facet of abuse and corre-
sponding societal responses.
By 2018, police in the United States were arresting women arrested for abusing male or female partners
more than 507,000 people for domestic violence is increasing. “Dual arrests” of both partners routinely
crimes annually (Reaves, 2017). Most arrested for occur in a minority of jurisdictions.
domestic violence are male, although the number of
Battered Wives is written not only for those working to change the law, reform social
agencies, provide housing for battered women or the victims of this form of male
violence, but every single one of us who needs to understand this phenomenon lest
those fortunate enough not to have been victims participate unwittingly by our
silence in the perpetration of this crime… . Battered women must speak up, and this
book should make it easier for them to do so, and easier for all of us to hear and
respect what they have to say.
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 7
nonbattered and battered women were significant and included drug and alcohol abuse,
psychiatric emergency service, community mental health assistance, state hospital admissions,
and psychosocial labeling. The responses of medical personnel to women identified as bat-
tered were prescriptions of minor tranquilizers or pain medicine. As to referrals for psychiatric
services, only 4% of the nonbattered women were referred compared with 15% of the women
identified as battered. Further, medical personnel frequently characterized women with
“pseudopsychiatric” labels in the absence of overt psychological disorders. The researchers
conclude that these erroneous labels appear to stick, and the patients thereafter suffer stigma
that diminishes future referral options and impedes the delivery of effective treatment.
The activism of the Flitcraft and Stark (a medical doctor and sociologist/social worker)
team in the domestic violence movement began in the summer of 1975 when they visited an ally
in the anti-war movement in St. Paul, MN, Sharon Vaughn, the founder of the Women’s
Advocates shelter, above. The experience was so profound that Anne, who was in medical school
and required to undertake a research project, chose original research on wife abuse rather than
research in process with her faculty mentor. She was required to undertake a literature review
on her topic as a first step in the approval process for her project. She found one article only, in
Lancet, cataloguing injuries sustained by women visiting an E. R. while in shelter in the United
Kingdom. Within 3 years Anne was testifying before the US Commission on Civil Rights and
Congress. She remains astonished that federal policy was based on her exploratory student
research. The hearings were a springboard for her advocacy for battered women with the
American Medical Association, the American College of Physicians, and beyond. Anne and
Evan also became cofounders of the battered women’s program and the University of Con-
necticut Health Care Center’s Domestic Violence Training Project in New Haven.
Arguably, the researcher most read by advocates and the public is Lenore L. E. Walker.
The trajectory of individual domestic violence episodes derived by Walker, a clinical psy-
chologist, from a sample drawn from her clients, became the almost universal explanation of
the experience of battered women and the motivation of batterers upon the publication of
Walker’s The Battered Woman (Walker, 1979). The book became a best seller, read by many
advocates who shared Walker’s findings with colleagues providing a broad array of services to
battered women or perpetrators. It was the book cited with authority by credentialed psy-
chologists and expert witnesses for much of the following 15 years. Walker found a three-part
explanation of battering inflicted by men on their intimate partners: phase 1, “tension-
building” in the batterer; phase 2, an explosion of violence; and phase 3, a period of tranquility
or at least nonviolence, named “the honeymoon phase.” “Tension-building” included
increased agitation, heightened criticism, or threats targeted at the battered woman or her
children, greater demands for service or subjugation, an uptick in surveillance, expectations
that the battered partner would meet the batterer’s unspoken need even before he had
formulated the need himself. When tension was high, some act of the battered woman or
stressor in the work or family life of the batterer would cause a tipping point at which time the
batterer would inflict one act or an extended episode of physical violence. If the violence ran
its course (i.e., if it wasn’t interrupted by some powerful third party or event like a police visit
to the home, or the survivor appeasing the assailant sufficiently by her obeisance or pro-
testations of fidelity, or the batterer’s physical exhaustion precipitated by the infliction of
violence), the abuser would possibly become contrite or experience a period of calm which
sharply contrasts to the “tension-building phase,” or the batterer performs some task long
promised but unfulfilled, or the assailant becomes (from his perspective) romantic, which often
is experienced by the battered woman as “make-up” sex or rape. Any of the seemingly contrite
behavior of the abuser ostensibly provides the victim with a period of rest and a reduction in
vigilance. This three-part process became widely known as “the cycle of violence.”
As battered women began to deny that phases 1 and 3 happened or to discern other
patterns of violence unique to their batterers, or as battered women experienced no such pattern
to the abuse, whether predictably repeated or not, the strength of Walker’s explanation abated.
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 9
alone. They needed the cooperation of the rest of the criminal justice system for domestic
violence intervention to be effective. Conversations expanded. “Coordinated Community
Response” became the approach chosen by many communities. CCRs, as they were
commonly known, became the forum for many criminal justice agencies (e.g., police, bail
system, pretrial services, jail administrators, prosecution, courts, probation and parole, crime
victim assistance agencies) and the battered women’s program to sit down together to:
consider their respective missions, philosophy and goals, to hear about the processes and
strategies used by the various agencies to implement their mandates, to identify any conflicts
or tensions that might be compromising their work, to estimate the effectiveness of the
current state of policy and practice within and between the agencies, to listen to feedback of
battered women and advocates about their experiences in navigating the CJS and changes they
recommended, to establish a clear mission and goals for the CCR, to examine their respective
policies and procedures, forms (e.g., intake, reports, assessments, evaluations, checklists,
brochures and other marketing products, etc.) as to their complementarities or conflicts, and
to propose changes to the overall design and implementation of the entire CJS, to acquire
funding to make the changes, to gain “buy-in” of the leadership of each agency, to access
funding to cover the costs of changes proposed, to construct an implementation timeline and
process, and ultimately to make the changes and evaluate the coordination of the whole CJS.
Both the vision and power of the leaders of the CCR must be clear and robust to move this
whole process along. Likely leaders are often presiding judges or executives in the police or
prosecutor’s office.
Organizers learned that patience is required, as is fortitude, for the process is slow and
change is often incremental. And even when the process is completed, the persistent adher-
ence to the resultant policies and procedures requires supervision, periodic training, and
transparency of all participants in the CCR for “a domestic violence crime is rarely fully
resolved with the first intervention.”
The Domestic Abuse Intervention Project (DAIP), through the leadership of Ellen Pence
and Michael Paymar, became the authority on CCR development. See the DAIP website for
further description of CCRs. PRAXIS International, the City of St. Paul, MN and DAIP
developed the Duluth Blueprint for Safety in 2007 which they describe as “a first-of-its-kind
comprehensive approach for addressing domestic violence in the criminal legal system”
(PRAXIS International, City of St. Paul, MN, and Domestic Abuse Intervention Project, 2007).
One final community collaboration. Men began to organize to forge a world free of
patriarchal domination and violence against women and girls. The National Organization for
Men Against Sexism (NOMAS) began as a loose-knit spontaneous social movement in the
early 1970s. In 1975, a group of men who were enrolled in a women’s studies course at the
University of Tennessee held what they announced as “The First National Conference on
Men and Masculinity,” in Knoxville, TN. Annual conferences followed. M & M was informal
in its structure. M & M became NOCM, the National Organization of Changing Men. It
adopted a pro-feminist, gay-affirmative, anti-racist philosophy supporting the enhancement of
men’s lives. Its successor organization, the National Organization of Men Against Sexism
(NOMAS) has a global reach and continues to encourage social activism and analysis across a
range of anti-sexist men’s issues, including ending violence against women.
In the late 1970s, the Batterer Intervention Services Network of Pennsylvania, an affil-
iation of education and counseling programs to engage men who batter their wives and
girlfriends in the process of change toward nonviolence and equality in intimate partnerships,
was organized. Programs were struggling to figure out the approaches they should take to
facilitate the process of change, not only for men who used violence and abuse to control their
partners, but also for men who wanted to create partnerships with women based in equality
and respect, free from sexist beliefs and practices. They recognized that all men, not just
battering men, benefit from living in a “culture of control”2 of women, and that all women,
not just battered women, endure the oppressions of patriarchal dominance and the limited
· The right to be treated with dignity, respect, and · The right to restitution from the offender.
sensitivity.
· The right to prompt return of personal property.
· The right to be informed.
· The right to a speedy trial.
· The right to protection.
· The right to enforcement of victims’ rights.
· The right to apply for compensation.
In 1982, California was the first state to amend their constitution to guarantee crime
victim rights. Every state has since enacted a crime victims’ bill of rights, and most have
incorporated victim rights into their constitutions.3 Battered women were intended to share in
these rights.
Notwithstanding this reform, it was apparent that victims continued to receive short
shrift from criminal justice agencies. The culture of the criminal justice system subordinated
the interests of victims to those of sector components. Victim preferences as to arrest,
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 11
prosecution, sentencing, incarceration, and reentry were largely ignored. Research reported by
Cannavale and Falcon confirmed that victims of crime were not being treated well by the
criminal justice system. Thus, victims were not cooperating with prosecutors, resulting in
unsuccessful prosecutions (Cannavale & Falcon, 1976). Advocates began to understand that
securing “victim rights” as a matter of law would not eliminate victim resistance absent changes
in criminal justice system policies and practice. At the very least, the movement demanded that
criminal justice response to domestic violence must be similar to system treatment of other
crimes of violence. This approach was known as “normalization.” But “normalization” was not
likely to be successful without “buy-in” from leadership at the top. Only when all sectors
demonstrably respected victim interests and included victim input in decision-making was it
possible to gain the cooperation of victims in the criminal justice process.
The first opportunity for gaining critical leadership support at the highest levels came
with US Attorney General William French Smith’s appointment of a “Task Force on Family
Violence” in 1982. The Task Force held hearings in six major jurisdictions around the
country. One thousand people gave testimony. In preparation for the hearings, a cadre of
leading advocates devised and distributed a “think piece” for local activists to consider in
drafting their testimony. As a result, testimony was similar at each hearing, and the com-
monality of themes across the country enhanced the credibility and power of victim and
advocate testimony. A report was issued from the Task Force in September 1984 (Task Force
Members, September, 1984). It was met with great acclaim. The report overview highlighted
three improvements foundational for criminal justice reform on family violence.
Detailed recommendations followed for each sector of the criminal justice system,
offering an ambitious framework for change. One recommendation that was particularly
helpful in establishing the legitimacy of victim inclusion and victim advocate participation in
domestic violence criminal process was: “The full participation of the victim is necessary at
all critical stages of the criminal justice process. To obtain that participation, a coordinated
response should include a victim advocate… who educates the victim about the operation of
the criminal justice system and makes referrals to appropriate services and victim compen-
sation programs; keeps the victim informed on the progress in the case; and ensures that the
victim is consulted on decisions regarding plea bargaining, sentencing, and restitution” (Task
Force Members, September, 1984, p. 22).
The findings of the Minneapolis Police study on the deterrent effect of arrest for
domestic violence perpetrators that same year gave exponential impetus to reform within law
enforcement (Sherman & Berk, 1984b).
Congress passed two pieces of significant funding legislation in this time period.. The
Victims of Crime Act (VOCA) provided states block grants by which they could distribute
revenues to criminal justice system agencies for system improvement, including system-based
and shelter-based victim advocacy. States were given discretion in deciding how to distribute the
funds allocated to them. The “Family Violence Prevention and Services Act” of 1984 provided
for population-based grants to states to fund “core services” (e.g., emergency housing, food,
transportation, counseling, and childcare) of domestic violence programs. It also funded the
National Domestic Violence Hotline and five national technical assistance centers.
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 13
In fact, while the goals of justice reform initiatives, and many others innovations reported
within this volume, are to transform societal response to affect justice and safety for domestic
violence survivors and accountability and desistance of perpetrators, the efficacy of new laws,
policies, practices, and programs is hard to measure directly.
First, defining the “success” of the work of any sector or individual in the civil and criminal
justice systems is difficult. Thus, “success” is not easy to measure. Beyond this, “success” is a
complex phenomenon. Does one evaluate a particular practice or a cluster of practices in a
sector, the method of delivery of the practice, the timing and consistency of professionals
utilizing the method, the differences and similarities of the perspectives of supervisors and
clients, the comparative importance of the practice in the overall goals of the sector, etc.? Is it
measured by victim satisfaction? And how is “success” defined in constructing meaningful
research about each and any of these issues?
One approach to investigating “success” is through case studies. This method, which is
really oral history or documenting work of professionals, is little more than an anecdotal
description of intervention strategies and outcomes. While storytelling is a crude method of
exploring “success,” yet it can be helpful in identifying apparently effective practices that can
be the basis for building theory and constructing tools for more scientific measurements of
“success.”
Professional Performance Evaluation. Three case studies reveal the importance of oral
history for defining “success” in evaluation of the performance of individuals in one sector of
the criminal justice system. Here, law enforcement.
Case study 1. A police officer noticed that an acquaintance looks peaked and
distressed. Upon approaching her for conversation, he discovered that she had a
black eye. She reported that her husband punched her the day before. The officer
proposed to arrest the husband. The survivor strongly opposed. She told him that
unless her husband was incarcerated for a long period after conviction, she would be
in greater danger, even lethal danger, if the husband was merely convicted of one
simple assault. However, if arrest could potentially achieve a long-term custodial
sentence, the survivor would enthusiastically support the prosecution of her
husband. The officer agreed. With the victim’s assistance, he began a course of
surreptitious investigation into all the crimes of the husband within the statutes of
limitations. He identified upwards of 20 misdemeanors. The prosecutor agreed
to take most to trial. The wife cooperated. The prosecutor persuaded the bail
commissioner to hold the husband in custody pre-trial. The husband was
convicted and sentenced to 99 years in prison. The survivor, her family,
professionals in the criminal justice system, and the public agreed that the
outcome of the police action was a success. Yet, the amount of police labor was
extraordinary and not sustainable—and not suitable to universal application.
However, one element of police action—the principle that police officers listen to
victims and incorporate their preferences into decision-making—clearly was
successful and susceptible to routine practice by responding officers. And if
considering the efficacy of investigation or evidence collection, the officer’s
conduct was highly successful. If measuring victim protection, the officer would
earn high marks.
Case study 2. The senior officer in a remote state trooper barracks offered to
transport a battered woman anywhere within a 2-hour radius of her home at any
time. The battered woman called upon the officer three times, twice to drive her to
her sister’s and once to a shelter. The survivor accessed safe, permanent housing
while at the shelter. Two years later, she advised the officer that her husband was
leaving her alone and had not assaulted her since her move to shelter. Protection was
Case study 3. A battered woman, the wife of a police officer, was considering the
possibility of seeking a protection order against her husband. She did not want her
husband to lose his job, but she feared he would as they lived in the same mid-size
city and in the district where the husband was employed and assigned to patrol. The
attorney suggested that she could arrange an interview for the survivor with the
Deputy Chief to tell him: • why a protection order was not incompatible with the
husband’s continued service, • the wife’s belief that her husband would obey a
standard protection order, • that she was going to ask that he be evicted from the
marital home. The attorney and survivor met with the Deputy Chief. He agreed to
retain the officer despite the protection order, but on three conditions—the husband
would meet for a counseling session weekly with the Deputy Chief, the husband
would transfer to another patrol district, and there would be no violations of the
order. The wife agreed. An order issued. Counseling occurred weekly for the first 4
months of the order. The husband agreed to reassignment. At the end of one year,
the order was dropped and the parties reconciled. Five years later, the husband was
still employed as an officer, there was no repeat violence, and the marriage was
working by all accounts. By several measures of success—the survivor’s consultation
with her attorney and the Deputy Chief, the protection order, and the counseling
with the employer were all successful. Only the husband’s compliance with the
protection order would typically be a marker of success, once again revealing
that measuring success must be nuanced to fairly assess the impact of system
interventions.
These case studies demonstrate that “success” can be measured and illustrated on an
individual case basis. Thus, one of the important lessons learned in the early days of criminal
justice work by the movement was that relationship-building is essential to effectively advocate
for battered women.
Contemporaneous with building relationships in aid of improved criminal justice system
response, advocates engaged in civil legal work to protect survivors. The movement was also
committed to enhancing other systemic responses to the needs of battered women. To that
end, advocates undertook myriad law reform initiatives. Among these were preserving the
privacy and maintaining the confidentiality of battered women.
Privacy and Confidentiality Protection. Preserving the confidentiality of communications
between survivors and battered women’s advocates in domestic violence services was a
stunning “success” of the movement. In 1982, the first confidential privilege statute protecting
the conversations and records of battered women was enacted in Pennsylvania (Title 23, Part
VII, Chapter 61, Section 6116). Unlike the doctor–patient or psychologist–client privilege,
the advocate–survivor privilege is “absolute.” This means that none of a battered woman’s
communications with advocates about matters related to her victimization and wherever they
might occur (e.g., the shelter, the court, a restaurant, or a doctor appointment) is protected as
long as the conversation in a public place is conducted in a manner that appears to be pre-
serving privacy. Neither the police, the prosecutor, or a judge can compel the advocate to
disclose the contents of the communication or the contents of the file kept by the local
program. Even the conversations the survivor has with other participants in the activities of
the domestic violence program are protected.
When Bell Atlantic sought approval from the PA Public Utility Commission for mar-
keting a new software—Caller ID—advocates immediately recognized privacy problems with
disclosing the phone number of the caller. With Caller ID as proposed by Bell the phone
number and name of the shelter would be revealed to batterers when women called their
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 15
husbands, for example, to assure husbands that the children and the victims were staying in a
safe and secure facility after leaving. Cross directories would have enabled batterers to
discover the otherwise confidential addresses of shelters, enabling them to stalk and even
kidnap survivors. Advocates insisted on privacy protections whereby any caller could block
the transmission of their phone numbers at no cost. In 1990, the Commonwealth Court of
PA ruled in favor of the advocates’ position that unblockable Caller ID would be “an
unwarranted intrusion into the privacy of telephone customers” (New York Times (1992),
January 23, Section D:10).
Advocates sought and obtained “address confidentiality” for battered women through a
records protection and mail forwarding service. Washington’s Address Confidentiality Pro-
gram (ACP) statute was the first, enacted in 1991. Currently upwards of 40 states have
adopted this privacy legislation.
Battered women’s programs also filed a brief in the case of Planned Parenthood v. Casey.
Advocates presented an argument before the US Supreme Court that the Pennsylvania law
that restricted abortion by requiring spousal notification of a husband prior to a woman
obtaining an abortion created an undue burden on battered women survivors. The Court in
1992 struck the spousal notification requirement, thus preserving a woman’s privacy in
matters of reproduction.
VOCA, FVPSA, and VAWA, 3 federal grants programs for victims of crime, prohibit
sharing personally identifying information about victims without informed, written, reason-
ably time-limited consent. VAWA and VOCA also prohibit disclosure of any individual victim
information without written consent. Advocates and attorneys for battered women and other
crime victims prepared preliminary drafts and strongly supported these regulations and
legislation.
The National Network to End Domestic Violence (NNEDV) continues this legacy in
social change and systems advocacy for survivor privacy. See the NNEDV Technology Safety
Project https://www.techsafety.org/.
Unquestionably, the battered women’s revolution has been a “successful” leader in
initiating and implementing privacy and confidentiality protections. This endeavor is but
one of many civil law safeguards for domestic violence survivors achieved by the
movement.
Notwithstanding these individual and systemic successes, policymakers and practitioners
continue to be very interested in ascertaining evidence-based information on the prevalence,
frequency, and consequences of domestic violence. Social scientists have looked to aggrega-
tion of criminal justice data to assist in understanding the scope of domestic violence which
was, until quite recently, deemed insignificant and not worthy of substantial allotment of
revenues to affect changes in law and practice. By way of example, the amount and trends in
assaults and killing by intimate partners has offered invaluable, albeit limited, insights.4
Aggregation of Uniform Crime Report data over the last four decades shows a decline in crimes
of violence in the country, including the prevalence of domestic violence homicides.
Decreases in spousal homicides have been substantial since the enactment of VAWA in 1994:
husbands, 1995 (267/year) to 2018 (119/year) or a 55% decline; wives, 1995 (732/year) to
2018 (519/year) or a 29% decline. Yet, in 2018 wives were 81% of the victims of spousal
homicide, up from 73% in 1995. Thus, although fewer wives were killed in 2018, wives
remain at far greater risk of being killed by husbands than are husbands by wives.5 However,
the trend to lower homicides is not stable; numbers of homicides were up in the period from
2014 to 2017, but have decreased since 2018 (FBI Crime Statistics, 2020a).
Civil protection orders (CPOs) are a legal approach that was crafted to aid battered
women in erecting barriers to physical and virtual access by battering husbands (Benitez,
McNiel, & Binder, 2010). The most prevalent provisions of relief awarded in CPOs, eviction
of the batterer, “no contact” orders, and restrictions on custodial access (e.g., supervised
visitation and exchange orders), are intended as safeguards against batterer access and
CHAPTER 1 • INTRODUCTION 17
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
“Here, I have something better than that,” cried Tavia, who had
been watching Dorothy’s clumsy efforts to unloose Joe’s bonds.
She fished frantically in the pockets of her jacket and brought forth
a rather grimy ball of cord and a penknife. This she held up
triumphantly.
“A good sight better than your fingers!”
“Oh, give it to me, quickly,” cried Dorothy, reaching for the knife in
an agony of apprehension. “Oh, it won’t open! Yes, I have it!”
With the sharp blade she sawed feverishly at the cords.
They gave way one after another and she flung them on to the floor
of the cave.
Joe tried to get to his feet, but stumbled and fell.
“Feel funny and numb, kind of,” he muttered. “Been tied up too
long, I guess.”
“But, Joe, you must stand up—you must!” cried Dorothy
frantically. “Come, try again. I’ll hold you. You must try, Joe. They
will be back in a minute! Never mind how much it hurts, stand up!”
With Dorothy’s aid Joe got to his feet again slowly and painfully
and stood there, swaying, an arm about his sister’s shoulders, the
other hand clenched tight against the damp, rocky wall of the cave.
The pain was so intense as the blood flowed back into his tortured
feet that his face went white and he clenched his teeth to keep from
crying out.
“Do you think you can walk at all, dear?” asked Dorothy, her own
face white with the reflection of his misery. “If you could manage to
walk a little way! We have horses in the woods and it would be
harder for them to find us there. Try, Joe dear! Try!”
“I guess I can make it now, Sis,” said Joe from between his
clenched teeth. “If Tavia will help a little too—on the other side.”
“I guess so!” cried Tavia with alacrity, as she put Joe’s other arm
about her shoulders and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Now
something tells me that the sooner we leave this place behind the
healthier it will be for all of us.”
“Hush! What’s that?” cried Dorothy, and they stood motionless for
a moment, listening.
“I didn’t hear anything, Doro,” whispered Tavia. “It was just
nerves, I guess.”
They took a step toward the entrance of the cave, Joe still leaning
heavily upon the two girls.
A horse whinnied sharply and as they paused again, startled, a
sinister shadow fell across the narrow entrance to the cave. They
shrank back as substance followed shadow and a man wedged his
way into the cave.
He straightened up and winked his eyes at the unexpected sight
that met them.
Dorothy stifled a startled exclamation as she recognized him. It
was the small, black-eyed man, Gibbons, known to Desert City as
George Lightly, who stood blinking at them.
Suddenly he laughed, a short, sharp laugh, and turned back toward
the mouth of the cave.
“Come on in, fellows!” he called cautiously. “Just see what I
found!”
Joe’s face, through the grime and dirt that covered it, had grown
fiery red and he struggled to get free of Dorothy and Tavia.
“Just you let me get my hands on him!” he muttered. “I’ll show
him! I’ll——”
“You keep out of this, Joe,” Dorothy whispered fiercely. “Let me do
the talking.”
Three other men squeezed through the narrow opening and stood
blinking in the semi-darkness of the cave.
One of them Dorothy recognized as Joe’s former captor, a big,
burly man with shifty eyes and a loose-lipped mouth, another was
Philo Marsh, more smug and self-sufficient than she remembered
him, and the third was Cal Stiffbold, her handsome cavalier of the
train ride, who had called himself Stanley Blake.
It took the girls, crouched against the wall of the cave, only a
moment to see all this, and the men were no slower in reading the
meaning of the situation.
Stiffbold’s face was suffused with fury as he recognized Dorothy
and Tavia, and he took a threatening step forward. Philo Marsh
reached out a hand and drew him back, saying in mild tones:
“Easy there, Stiffbold. Don’t do anything you are likely to regret.”
“So, ladies to the rescue, eh?” sneered Lightly, thrusting his hands
into his pockets and regarding the girls with an insulting leer.
“Regular little heroines and all, ain’t you? Well, now, I’ll be blowed!”
“Young ladies, this isn’t the place for you, you know.” Philo Marsh
took a step forward, reaching out his hand toward Joe. “You’re
interfering, you know, and you’re likely to get yourselves in a heap o’
trouble. But if you’ll go away and stay away and keep your mouths
closed——”
“And leave my brother here with you scoundrels, I suppose?”
suggested Dorothy.
The hypocritical expression upon the face of Philo Marsh changed
suddenly to fury at her short, scornful laugh.
“Scoundrels, is it?” he sneered. “Well, my young lady, maybe you’ll
know better than to call honest people names before you leave this
place.”
“Honest people! You?” cried Dorothy, no longer able to contain her
furious indignation. “That sounds startling coming from you, Philo
Marsh, and your—honest friends!
“Do you call it honest,” she took a step forward and the men
retreated momentarily, abashed before her fury, “to take a poor boy
away from his people, to hide him here in a place like this, to torture
him physically and mentally, to attempt to make him false to all his
standards of right——”
“See here, this won’t do!” Lightly blustered, but Dorothy turned
upon him like a tigress.
“You will listen to me till I have said what I am going to say,” she
flung at him. “You do all this—you honest men,” she turned to the
others, searing them with her scorn. “And why? So that you can force
Garry Knapp, who has the best farmlands anywhere around here—
and who will make more than good some day, in spite of you, yes, in
spite of you, I say—to turn over his lands to you for a song, an
amount of money that would hardly pay him for the loss of one little
corner of it——”
“Say, are we goin’ to stand here and take this?”
“Yes, you are—Stanley Blake!” Dorothy flamed at him, and the
man retreated before her fury. “And then, when this boy defies you,
what do you do? Act like honest men? Of course you do! You
threaten to ‘put the screws on’ until he is too weak to defy you, a boy
against four—honest—men! If that is honesty, if that is bravery, then
I would rather be like that slimy toad out in the woods who knows
nothing of such things!”
“Hold on there, you!” George Lightly started forward, his hand
uplifted threateningly. “You call us any more of those pretty names
and I’ll——”
“What will you do?” Dorothy defied him gloriously, her eyes
blazing. “You dare to lay a hand upon me or my friend or my
brother,” instinctively her arm tightened about Joe, “and Garry
Knapp will hound you to the ends of the earth. Hark! What’s that?”
She paused, head uplifted, listening.
They all listened in a breathless silence while the distant clatter of
horses’ hoofs breaking a way through the woodland came closer—
ever closer!
“Garry!” Dorothy lifted her head and sent her cry ringing through
the woodland. “We are over this way, Garry, over this way! Come qui
——”
A HORSEMAN BROKE THROUGH THE
UNDERBRUSH. IT WAS GARRY.
THE END
THE DOROTHY DALE SERIES
By MARGARET PENROSE
12 mo. Illustrated
By MARGARET PENROSE
By AGNES MILLER
By MARGARET PENROSE
By ALICE B. EMERSON