Crisis center braces for holidays
The call for help during the pandemic has been heartbreaking. The Rowan Center has seen a 40 percent spike in hotline calls over the past nine months.
A Zoom discussion with two experts on sexual assault has pivoted into a therapy session with tips that could be useful for anyone, at any time, particularly during the holiday season.
“The biggest piece of advice I give someone who is trying to make themselves a safe satellite in somebody else’s orbit during the holidays would be the same thing we teach about being trauma- informed,” explains Luke Robbins, who oversees counseling for the Stamford- based Rowan Center. Don’t cross the line. Yes, that can mean not assuming it’s OK to bring up religion or politics in a conversation without checking first. But personal filters have a way of getting compromised by a cocktail of emotions and seasonal stimulants, even sugar.
Respecting the line has much higher stakes when it comes to sexual assault. The call for help during the pandemic has been heartbreaking. The Rowan Center has seen a 40 percent spike in hotline calls over the past nine months.
So Robbins offers advice on healthier communication. He explains how he uses the five “love languages” at the Center, in his private practice and in his personal life.
When he and his wife recognize a conversation is about an emotional topic, they pause to ask, “Is this a listening conversation or do you want feedback at some point?”
“It sounds strange, but if everyone would do that, so many arguments between well- intentioned couples could be avoided,” he says.
He shorthands the five love languages as “words of affirmation, acts of service, gifts, touch and quality time.”
Robbins has revealed a bit of himself, so he addresses me through the computer and says, “I ask you to be brave ...”
“Say your wife comes home and through no fault of yours she’s had a bad day. You’re not in the doghouse, but she’s had a rough day. What is your default thing ( he snaps his fingers) you go to try to make her feel better, to show her love, to cheer her up.”
“To try to listen,” I respond, internally torn on whether this is truthful, and still pondering the scenario where this is “no fault” of mine.
“That is quality time,” he explains. “You give the time without deciding how it is going to be spent. You take direction from her. Give her space to speak.”
He divulges that his reflex is to wash the dishes, an instinct he inherited from his father. Everyone wants clean dishes, but it’s not what his wife desires in such circumstances. She’d prefer he sit with her and their toddler.
It’s all about getting on the same frequency as the other person, which may not mean, for example, bringing flowers.
Then Robbins makes a confession to the third person in our discussion — Rowan Center Executive Director Mary Flynn.
“Mary doesn’t know that I’ve been doing this with her.”
“I don’t know where he’s going with this,” Flynn responds, clearly as curious as I am.
Robbins joined the Rowan team 15 months ago. Rowan has the most challenging of missions, to provide safe harbor to survivors of sexual assault. As Flynn later explains, she ends many of her days bearing the weight of dark thoughts about “what people do to each other.”
“So Mary,” Robbins asks his boss, “which of the ( love languages) when you’ve had a bad day makes you feel happiest, the most appreciated, the most encouraged?”
“My husband doing the dishes,” she offers wryly, evidence that every soul is nourished differently.
Then Robbins discloses “where he’s going with this.” The answer involves a different kind of dish.
“And what have I done in every conversation we’ve had in the last year when you share with me you are stressed and overwhelmed?
“I say, ‘ What can I take off your plate?’ ”
Flynn recognizes the gesture: “That’s exactly right.”
Robbins explains that he tries to mirror Flynn’s generosity to her staff to offer aid and encouragement. These are echoes of three words she uses in defining the agency’s mission: empathy, respect, boundaries.
They are wise strategies to bring to the holiday table in the days ahead. Flynn and Robbins keep reinforcing that success in relationships is possible when “the person is well- intentioned.”
Of course, crisis workers deal with the consequences of the worst intentions. Robbins doesn’t flinch from acknowledging the statistical reality that as we speak, somebody, somewhere, is being abused.
Robbins was pitching the idea of virtual counseling in
January, two months before COVID- 19 triggered social distancing. There are drawbacks, such as limitations in therapists’ ability to interpret body language. But it has also diminished anxiety for survivors wary of seeking help in an office space.
Aware that the isolation of 2020 has left some clients trapped with their abusers, agencies have added lifelines for those seeking help who may not be in a safe place to speak out loud. At Rowan, anyone searching for services can email counseling@ therowan center. org.
Thanksgiving is never a day off in their line of work, so the hotline ( 203- 329- 2929) is active all day, every day. It’s a season, even in years without the coronavirus, during which they have come to anticipate an uptick in calls.
Rowan serves eight towns in lower Fairfield County, but there are agencies like it throughout Connecticut. The state hotline ( 1- 888- 9995545 in English and
1- 888- 568- 8332 in Spanish) connects callers to local services.
“The holidays are tough on a lot of people and we want them to know ... we are there,” Flynn asserts. “The reality is we can help people.”
Our therapy session has ended. Their work, unfortunately, never ends.