Domestic violence left out of Me Too
Advocates say abuse by partner often minimized
Five weeks into her marriage, Peri Johnson, a college student, was writing a paper on her computer when her husband angrily shut it down.
He was upset that she was doing better in school than he was, that she had invited male friends to their home, that she didn’t follow his rules. She said she tried to leave, but he blocked the door. She said he grabbed her, threw her down and took her car keys, effectively imprisoning her in their house for 48 hours.
At the grocery store where she worked, she became fodder for wisecracks. Johnson — a Marine, a survivor and now, it seemed, a punchline — brushed off the comments.
“I just ignored it,” she said. “It just wasn’t worth it. I had to work with these people and do my job.”
Thirty years since Johnson was teased, domestic violence is still trivialized. Last month, a Snapchat ad asked users, “Would you rather: Slap
Rihanna or punch Chris Brown?” (Brown assaulted Rihanna in 2009.)
“Once again, domestic violence is minimized ... not treated as the crime it is,” said Ruth Glenn, president of the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence.
More than six months ago, the Me Too movement exploded with a neardaily deluge of accusations against high-powered men. Intimate partner violence, which one in three women experience, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, has been largely absent from the Me Too media coverage.
“The way the Me Too movement has gotten some traction has, in many cases, been around workplace violence, and I think that is a little bit less stigmatizing than intimate violence,” said Sherry Hamby, a University of the South psychology professor and founding editor of the American Psychological Association journal Psychology of Violence.
Me Too’s hashtag was meant for anyone who experienced harassment or assault — a broad range of abuses that could be committed by any type of abuser. Many who shared Me Too on social media did not name their perpetrators.
Domestic abuse happens in intimate relationships. Those aware of a survivor’s relationships could more easily identify the perpetrator, and the survivor could face retaliation.
Johnson, 55, a licensed counselor, said she did everything “right” after she was abused: She left her husband. She filed for divorce, got a permanent restraining order and never returned.
But she said she still felt blamed for what happened. When she talked to coworkers about it, they asked what she did to provoke him.
“Why do you assume I did something?” Johnson said. “What did you think I did?”
The fear of leaving
Johnson is a rare case. Many survivors don’t leave when the abuse begins.
“Unless you’ve been a prisoner of war, you don’t understand,” said Glenn, who works at the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence to change public opinion and public policy. “The constant message you get from the abuser, the constant message that you get from our culture ... is that you should leave. The practicality is I can’t leave. I am afraid he’s going to kill me if I walk out the door, I’m afraid he’s going to take my kids, I’m afraid he’s going to close all the bank accounts, I’m afraid that he’ll find me later and shoot me.”
In 1992, months after Glenn left her abusive husband after 13 years of marriage, he tracked her down and shot her three times, once in the arm and twice in the head. He spent four months as a fugitive before committing suicide.
“There is a lack of understanding and a lack of empathy for victims of domestic violence,” she said.
‘It took a dark turn’
The reasons women choose to stay with an abusive partner are infinitely complex, advocates said. Some fear for their families’ lives or believe the abuser will “go back” to the way things were, because abuse often does not begin right away.
“I was probably about 10 years into the relationship,” Keysha Lleras, 36, said of the first time her husband pushed her. “From there, it took a dark turn and became more and more physical, more and more mental.”
Lleras said her husband checked receipts, closely monitored her whereabouts, once bit her arms and face and grabbed the steering wheel from her while she was driving. She said she was reluctant to leave because she loved him, and she hoped the birth of their child would change him.
Ultimately, she said, it was concern for her daughter’s well-being that motivated her to end the relationship. She and her husband are separated.
Debunking the myths
Me Too was bolstered by celebrities. In contrast, few high-profile women have spoken publicly about their experiences with domestic violence.
A Me Too-style movement could help debunk common myths about domestic abuse, as well as pressure the criminal and legal systems to make things easier for the victims, advocates said.
“Every time you go to court, a (victim) is taking time off work, a (victim) is having to find child care for children if they’re not in school, they’re missing opportunities, they’re losing money, and they’re having to go through this traumatic experience and retell their story,” said Melissa Paquette, director of the Domestic Violence Law Project at Safe Horizon, an advocacy organization based in New York.
A custody case in the city may not go to trial for three years, Paquette said. An order of protection may not go to trial for two. Although low-income survivors qualify for a free attorney, most others do not. Advocates said survivors need:
❚ Police to believe them and take them seriously. A National Domestic Violence Hotline survey in 2015 found two-thirds of survivors said police wouldn’t believe them or would do nothing.
❚ An expedited process in family and criminal court.
❚ Lawyers who specialize in abuse cases.
❚ Protections to ensure employers won’t penalize survivors for taking time to go to court — or to receive counseling.
“There is a stigma surrounding domestic violence,” Lleras said, “and that’s only going to be fixed if we continue to tell our stories.”
Johnson, who led a very private life after she left her husband, said she’s talking now because she isn’t “afraid anymore.” Though she said it’s not necessary for all survivors to tell their stories, she wants them to know “the fear can go away.”
Eventually, Johnson said, “there will be some peace.”