Rebuilding broken lives
Conway shelter case manager finds freedom from abuse
Berenice Jungers’ abuser had threatened her before, but the last time, “I saw the evil in his eyes,” she said. “He told me I wouldn’t get out of there alive. He said he would cut off my head and chop my body up in a million pieces, and nobody would ever find me — and I believed him,” she said.
When he went to the bathroom, Jungers escaped and went to a neighbor’s house for help. That neighbor took her to the Women’s Shelter of Central Arkansas in Conway, now Rise House. Jungers spent four months there.
Her stay there changed everything. Jungers, 57, graduated in 2019 from the University of Central Arkansas at age 55 and became the case manager for Rise House, a nonprofit organization.
“I’m very passionate about the work that I do. You can become a survivor and have a career and have a life,” she said. “You’re not defined by that [abuse], just because you went through it.”
Jungers, a high school dropout, had taken a year of college courses before coming to Conway. She enrolled at UCA and graduated in December 2019 with a 3.75 grade-point average while working three jobs. She earned a degree in health education and served an internship at the shelter.
Her former bedroom was made into an office.
“The very place my bed was as a client, my desk was as an intern,” she said.
The shelter created a case-manager position for Jungers, and she was hired Oct. 1, 2019, which was significant to her. October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
Rise House Executive Director Breanne Burton said Jungers “has been a huge asset to our team. Because of the things that she has experienced, she brings a heart and passion to her position as case manager.”
Burton said Jungers “truly cares about our residents and does everything she possibly can to make sure they have the tools necessary to be successful when they leave Rise House.”
Jungers said she was named after a French grandmother, and her first name is pronounced “Bear-uh-niece.” She’s known as “Miss B” at the shelter.
Growing up, she lived with her single mother and two siblings in Dallas, Texas, but she spent summers with her grandparents in Possum Grape, Arkansas. Her mother was “emotionally unavailable” and had a string of unhealthy relationships, Jungers said. Her mother and grandparents have since died.
“My grandparents were wonderful people; everything good, I learned from them,” she said.
But those summers in the small community were not idyllic. Jungers said a relative sexually abused her when she was 8 to 13 years old.
“Eventually, he got older and quit coming around. I survived that, though. I told my mom, but she wouldn’t listen to me. Back then, they shoved that crap under the rug.
“When you go through that, you make poor choices the rest of your life.”
Jungers said she had a string of abusive relationships.
“I was attracted to the wrong kind of men, and I learned to manipulate,” she said.
At 24, she became a licensed practical nurse and was in that career for 29 years. Even though she had a desire to help others, she couldn’t help herself.
“I learned that the abuse left big holes in my soul, and I tried to fill them with everything. I became an alcoholic. I stuffed everything down,” she said. “That’s what I did to numb the pain to be able to stand the abuse; I drank. I drank to oblivion. [One abuser] would beat me with extension cords, and it was horrific. He beat me to a pulp once.”
She was hospitalized with her injuries. A health care worker suggested she go to a domestic-violence shelter, “but was I scared,” she said. “I thought if he found me, he would kill me.”
The boyfriend she was with was “so charismatic that he could treat you so bad … and then be so sweet to you,” Jungers said.
She said that’s the cycle of abuse — after a violent episode, there’s often a honeymoon period when the abuser swears it won’t happen again and treats the victim well.
“It was like a plateau high, a euphoric place, and then everything would cycle back again. Pretty soon, the highs don’t go up as high anymore; pretty soon, it’s all evil and pain.”
She said the man also isolated her — a common characteristic of abusers.
“I wasn’t allowed to touch money; I wasn’t allowed to have a phone,” she said.
At the women’s shelter in Conway, Jungers found the support she needed. She received counseling, immediately got a job and was able to save money for the first time. She got a car and her own apartment.
She said she’s been sober for seven years.
“The past does not define me. I’m a new creature in Christ,” she said. “When you finally get freedom, and you want it, you’ll do whatever it takes to keep the peace you’ve found. I was so pumped that I knew if I kept putting one foot in front of the other, I would get there.”
Jungers considers her job as a case manager “a ministry.”
“We help them rebuild their broken lives; that’s what I do,” she said. “It takes people who have been broken to help people — trauma, sex abuse, every kind of violence, every ‘I’ve already survived that.’”
The shelter offers a sexualassault recovery program, transportation for clients, and personal, legal and childadvocacy programs.
If the residents have mental-health issues or need medication, they can receive services at Conway Behavioral Health Hospital or a unit of Conway Regional Medical Center, Jungers said.
“We have to rebuild that brokenness before we can do case management,” she said.
Jungers helps the residents apply for public benefits, such as food stamps, enroll in GED classes, write resumes and fill out applications for employment. Rise House offers classes on budgeting, how to cook on a budget and more. Clients are asked to save 70 percent of their income.
“It’s really freeing for them to say, ‘Hey, I have a bank account, and it’s in my name only,” Jungers said. “I encourage complete independence.”
She works with the women to find resources they need — from Social Security cards to housing. The shelter also provides services to abused men, but Jungers said they are usually housed through another organization.
One of her success stories is a Honduran woman who came to the shelter.
“There was a lady who came from Honduras; she came illegally and married a man who abused her,” Jungers said. “She stayed at the shelter a long time, got her green card, saved every penny. She has her own house, her own car …, ID card, Social Security card. She and her baby are set up for success. And she didn’t have any family here in the States, so I adopted her and her son as her family. I’m her family. I go over there, and we hang out. She’s a beautiful person. I’m going to teach her how to drive her car.”
Another former resident of the shelter, JJ, credited “Miss B” with helping her, too.
“She loves God, and you can feel the presence of God when you talk to her. It gives me goosebumps,” JJ said. “If you’re walking on eggshells and you have sadness in your heart from being abused, find you a Miss B; find a place you feel safe.”
The shelter has a 24-hour hotline at (866) 358-2265.
Burton said the hotline offers individual counseling, crisis management and safety planning “for people who call and aren’t ready for shelter.”
More information is available on the shelter’s website, risehousearkansas.org.
The past does not define me. I’m a new creature in Christ. When you finally get freedom, and you want it, you’ll do whatever it takes to keep the peace you’ve found”.
Berenice Jungers
CASE MANAGER AND A FORMER CLIENT OF RISE HOUSE
Jungers said she wants women to know it’s not easy, but they can escape domestic violence.
“Every day, I walk around telling people you can overcome; you can survive. ‘Eye of the Tiger’ is like my theme song. We’re meant for so much more. You’ve got to get up and believe in yourself. You’re made for more than this.
“I’m a survivor of life, and that’s what I try to preach to my girls: ‘You’re a survivor. You can rise above what brought you to Rise House.’”