San Antonio Express-News (Sunday)
Reflecting, ending cycle of domestic violence
The recent inaugural commencement ceremony for the specialty Reflejos Court was the smallest graduation class I’ve ever witnessed: Four.
It was also the most meaningful.
Held Aug. 27, the ceremony marked the culmination of a life-changing program for the graduates: Patrick K., Christopher S., Rebecca G. and Alicia A. The graduates embodied the court motto “redemption through accountability” in their journeys through the five phases of the pretrial diversion program that focuses on healing, stabilization and change.
Their excitement palpable, the graduates’ gratitude to Judge Rosie Speedlin Gonzalez, who presides over Bexar County Court-at-Law No. 13, and her team were heartfelt. Without this court that provides wraparound services, they would have a misdemeanor on their criminal record and remain trapped in a vicious loop of domestic violence and substance abuse.
This was their second chance — and they embraced it.
Dressed in purple cap and gown, each graduate took to the podium to reveal how their lives were transformed through grace. Instead of being judged, they were supported.
The list of invasive requirements was heavy, requiring time, effort and emotional vulnerability. The odds were stacked against them, but they looked at their reflejo — or reflection — faced their demons, resisted the urge to quit and embraced the tools provided by the court.
They had lost their way, Speedlin Gonzalez said, but they now have the tools to reflect and not react. “Graduates, you always had the answer within you — always,” she told them.
The first of its kind in Texas, the court that was launched July
31, 2020, focuses on misdemeanor domestic violence offenders with a history of substance abuse. The court offers adults charged with a Class A misdemeanor for assaulting a spouse or other family member the chance to reform and get their cases dismissed. Not all are accepted and some abscond, and after 90 days are removed, becoming fugitives.
Speedlin Gonzalez and her multidisciplinary team strike a tough-love approach. It was clear during court dockets via Zoom that some participants struggle
while others thrive. They work through the program’s myriad requirements, applying for each phase. There is a strict curfew — in one phase from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. And some are monitored by GPS and are only allowed to leave home to go to work, therapy or other program requirements.
Each path is unique, but all participants sign an intense 21-page contract and work with community organizations for therapy, support groups and other services. For one man who failed to show for drug screens, a sanction of a one-page paper was required. For another, there was a promise to get a temporary break from a no-contact order so he could see his son on Father’s Day. But first, he needed to get in compliance with the program. The father was overjoyed. A woman who didn’t have a stable home was required to move to a shelter and get a GPS monitor.
One man, excited because his phase four application had been approved, offered words of inspiration to others on the docket in June: “You guys have no idea how good it feels — in a few months, you’re going to have a totally new look on life. You’re going to absolutely love it, just like I love my new life.”
One of 16 currently working the program, he is still trying to get the required 90 sober days so he can be included in a January graduation ceremony.
To create the court, Speedlin Gonzalez had to win support from state and local leaders. Quantifying results will take time, but the graduation is a sign local leaders were right to support a new way to break cycles of rampant domestic violence.
Funding is limited. The court’s two-year goal is to screen 75 participants and admit 50. But this court isn’t about numbers. It’s about valuing and changing real lives — one at a time — and focusing on the offender. Far from the norm, there is promise in this trauma-informed approach that recognizes that most offenders have been childhood victims of abuse — and are real people trying to find their way.