Author Archives: 1of5

Intimate Partner Violence in Georgia, and the Violence Against Women Act

This week in class we discussed the legal considerations of violence, with specific discussion of the prosecution of perpetrators of interpersonal violence (IPV).  Dr.  Kay Levine’s lecture and assigned readings looked at how few domestic violence crimes actually get prosecuted and sentenced in this country.  There are multiple biases (or at least pre-conceived notions) that play into how (or whether) domestic violence crimes are prosecuted and sentenced, such as the belief that a violent crime between two intimate people is somehow less severe than the same crime between strangers; or that a crime between two people of the same socioeconomic class seems to be less “offensive” than an upwardly mobile crime; and that a sexual assault between two people who know each other does not fit the concept of a “real” rape (Grosso, Baldus, & Woodworth, 2010;  Daly & Bouhours, 2010; .

The timing of this discussion was appropriate, after a year of bipartisan bickering in Congress over the reauthorization of The Violence Against Women Act (VAWA).  The Act finally passed in February of this year, after being allowed to expire in 2012, for the first time since it’s initial passage in 1994.   Despite GOP efforts, the law was expanded to include additional provisions to protect members of Native American tribes and those living in such territories (who were not receiving protection previously), and to specifically include people in the LGBT community (who have historically been marginalized with regards to protections from interpersonal violence).  As well, the law includes protections for men and boys, and strengthens federal penalties and further enables prosecution of rape crimes.    The Act funds training of law enforcement, prosecutors, and judges on the realities of domestic violence, and requires that protection orders be recognized in all states and tribal and territorial jurisdictions within the U.S.

Not surprisingly, here in Georgia, both Republican Senators, Johnny Isakson and Saxby Chambliss, voted against the VAWA, as did each of the nine Republican congressmen in the state.  (One representative, Paul Broun, went so far as to vote, along with eight Republican Congressmen from other states, against a resolution to allow the House of Representatives to even consider re-authorization of the Act.)  Only the five Democrats in the state voted in favor of the bill.  Some rhetoric notwithstanding (regarding funding in the face of uncontrolled national debt, and the assertion that domestic violence is an issue to be managed by individual states), in general, Republican legislators have opposed VAWA because of the specific inclusion of Native American women and LGBT women. In fact, they introduced (but failed to get passed) a version of the bill that did not include such language.

Sadly, this knuckle dragging by Georgia legislators is reflected in the state’s handling of domestic violence.   Georgia has consistently ranked poorly in its prevention of violence against women. In 2009, Georgia was the 10th highest in the nation in homicides of women by men, most of which were cases of IPV.  There seems to be a culture of acceptance of violence against women, as being partly appropriate and partly unavoidable, as evidenced by the need to separate myth from fact by the Georgia Coalition Against Domestic Violence, which refutes claims that victims have done something to bring the abuse on themselves, or that abusers tend to be somehow disadvantaged (and therefore excused?).

Why are some legislators so opposed to a law that would fund proven successful efforts at preventing violent crimes against vulnerable people?  Unlike the limitless efforts by the NRA to prevent legislation to restrict availability of certain firearms, we can’t point the finger at an Anti-Female lobby spending huge sums of money to keep women in their place.  It can only be that gender biases and biases against alternative lifestyles still exist in too many minds of the gender that continues to dominate every branch of our government.   Which brings us back to our low rate of prosecution and sentencing of domestic violence crimes.

Related story:  (A photojournal of an IPV incident, by photographer Sara Naomi Lewcowicz on Time Lightbox.)


Curry, T. R. (2010).  The conditional effects of victim and offender ethnicity and victim gender on sentences for non-capital cases.  Punishment & Society, 12:4 (p. 438-462).

Daly, K.; & Bouhours, B. (2010). Rape and attrition in the legal process: a comparative analysis of five countries. Crime and Justice, 39:1 (2010) (pp. 565-650)

Georgia Coalition Against Domestic Violence, 2012. Myths and facts.

Grosso, C. M.; Baldus, D. C.; Woodworth, G. (2010). The role of intimacy in the prosecution and sentencing of capital murder cases in the U.S. Armed Forces, 1984 – 2005. New Mexico Law Review.

Israel, J. (2013). The nine Republican men who won’t consider the Violence Against Women Act. Thinkprogress.

Office of the Clerk, U.S. House of Representatives (2013). (2013).


Resilience after trauma

Why are some folks plagued by the after-effects of trauma while others seem to sail through, acknowledging their grief and loss, but then going smoothly on to the next phase of their lives?  It’s easy to say that this person is “weak” or that person is “strong.”  But how appropriate—or accurate—is it to dismiss someone’s emotional response by such a qualifier?

There is a young woman who is very dear to me.  Let’s call her Bella, because she is beautiful.  Bella suffered repeated acts of emotional and physical violence as a child.   I say “suffered,” as if the events are in the past.  Certainly she is physically “safe” now—as much as any one of us is, anyway. But occasionally at night she calls me in a gut-wrenching, sobbing panic because she is desperately afraid to be alone.  And she says she can’t remember a time when she didn’t hate her own body.

Despite these paralyzing moments and self-deprecating thoughts, she has had quite a few amazing successes.  In the absence of role models during her adolescence, she still developed a business acumen and work style that many people twice her age could learn from.  At the age of 21, she has two jobs. (She recently texted a picture of her new business card that says, “Manager.”) She’s also in school.  And last year she negotiated one helluva deal on a new car.

But when Bella isn’t successful in a particularly difficult class, she doesn’t really believe that it’s because growing up she had to divert her attention away from learning how to learn because she needed to concentrate on surviving childhood.  Instead, she reduces the problem to, “I’m guess I’m just too stupid,” and stops answering her phone for a couple of days.

So much more is known now about the pathophysiology of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), depression, and anxiety than was known when I was Bella’s age.  Our class this week discussed the effects of violence on victims.  The assigned readings provide insight on critical differences between individuals who develop PTSD and those who demonstrate “resilience.”  There is much to support the hypothesis that both genes and environment are key players in predicting emotional response to traumatic events.  Sapienza and Masten (2011) cite positive adult relationships and effective parenting (among others) as correlates of resilience in young people, while Binder, et al (2008) in an earlier reading, implicate genetic patterns that predispose someone to developing PTSD in the face of certain life events.

Bonanno (2011) suggests that resilience is not as rare as was previously thought, and that previous recommendations for anyone who experiences a traumatic event to do “grief work” were flawed.  With this understanding, I can appreciate my good fortune that I was emotionally unscathed after each of two situations in which I was held at gun-point, quite sure I was about to die—once at the hands of a stranger during an armed robbery, and once by my (now ex-) husband.  My mother, with her wry wit, says to me, “Oh, you’re tough as a boiled owl!”   Perhaps. But no one can tell me that I am anywhere close to being as strong as Bella, who, in the depths of an acute episode of depression and anxiety one holiday weekend a few years ago, sat alone in her apartment for two dark days doing battle with her insurance company until she finally got “approved” to get the help that she urgently needed.

As a nurse and clinician, I can clearly see the benefits of understanding how and why any given individual might be at greater risk for developing long-term mental illness after being subjected to violent acts.  I can validate for Bella that her depression and anxiety are neither a result of any failure on her part, nor an indication of a hopeless situation.  And that’s good—she needs to know these things, and to have them repeated to her often.

But being a nurse is not my only role.  I’m also the mother of a young adult who hopes to raise his own children in this world one day.  And I’m bringing up the very rear of the Baby Boomer generation, so I think about the people who will take care of me as I age, and about what I can do now to help them as they progress in their lives.   We all share the grief and pain when someone perpetrates violence on another.  We may not all have the same experience, but we are all hurt when one of us is hurt.  When Bella’s heart is breaking, the world she and I share is darker, less bountiful, more contracted.  And so we share a moral (and practical) imperative to shore each other up and provide what is needed, when it is needed, and how it is needed, sans judgment and marginalization.

In other words, Bella, I will always be there when you need me to remind you that you’re smart, interesting, beautiful, and relevant.  Likewise, as my hair gets grayer and my bones become more brittle, I know you’ll do the same for me.

Binder, E. B.; Bradley, R. G.; Liu, W.; Epstein, M. P.; Deveau, T. C.; Mercer, K. B.; Tang, Y.; Gillespie, C. F.; Heim, C. M.; Nemeroff, C. B.; Schwartz, A. C.; Cubells, J. F.; Ressler, K. J. (2008).  Association of FKBP5 polymorphisms and childhood abuse with risk of posttraumatic stress disorder symptoms in adults. Journal of the American Medical Association,  299: 11 (1291-1305).

Bonanno, G. A. (2004).  Loss, trauma, and human resilience: have we underestimated the human capacity to thrive after extremely aversive events? American Psychologist, 59: 1 (20-28).

Sapienza, J. K.; Masten, A. S. (2011). Understanding and promoting resilience in children and youth. Current Opinion in Psychiatry, 24 (267-273).