DV Advocacy & The Process of Processing

At the beginning of February I began a 40-hour, month-long training to volunteer as a domestic violence advocate for this amazing organization, Home Free (If you’re considering making a joke about whether that means I’m advocating for DV, stop and think for a minute. Then, if you still find the term confusing, do a search for “domestic violence advocate” or “DV advocate,” and you’ll quickly be enlightened.). It’s got me thinking about a LOT of issues that I want to discuss, and, now that I’m finished with my grad school apps, I have the time to do just that. But for now, rather than talking about any particular DV issue, I want to talk about talking about it.

Like I said, this training has brought up a lot of issues for me. In training we’ve talked about, in some detail, about some of the horrific things (and I’m talking about emotional and financial abuse tactics, as well as the physical and sexual abuse that many people envision) abusers do to survivors. It’s a very important part of the training process. One of the most important qualities posessed by advocates is that they get it. Advocates, and allies in general, need to have a very concrete understanding of the dynamics of abuse/oppression to be effective. But knowing that doesn’t make learning these realities any less intense. Thinking about some of stories we’ve heard makes me physically sick. Now, add to that the fact that I generally find information very empowering and really love to share that feeling of empowerment. The result is that I come home from these trainings with a very, very strong urge to tell anyone and everyone close to me everything I can remember from training. Partly because I feel like I need to debrief in order to really process what’s been told to me. Partly because information sticks with me better when I share it with others. Partly because I see how problematic our society’s general refusal to discuss and validate survivors’ experiences can be, and I want to work against it immediately. Partly because this is so important to me right now and, consequently, I really want the most important people in my life to understand. And partly because it sometimes feels like if I can just vomit this information onto anyone around me, the sick feeling in my stomach might go away.

This can be a real problem. While the people I care the most about do, for the most part, have a deep passion for social justice, DV and sexual assault can be a really, really emotional (and sometimes triggering) topic. And, as much as they believe the work I’m trying to do is important, they didn’t sign up for this work. I’m the one who decided I wanted to spend 12 hours a week learning about it. I’m the one who decided that I am currently in a place where I am capable of processing this. Not my girlfriend. Not my friends. Not my coworkers. But at the same time, my primary method of self-care when I am upset is to go to my personal support network. I talk to my friends, family, partner, and even the occasional interested, sincere acquaintance. I’m trying my best to find other ways to process, thus my sudden renewed interest in twittering and blogging. But it’s been difficult, and will probably become even more so as/if I begin to work directly with survivors (I say “if” because I may end up primarily working in with Home Free’s teen advocacy services, which primarily involves educational outreach in local high schools. So I may end up spending most of my time doing presentations on healthy relationships, consent, and dating violence, rather than helping survivors file for restraining orders and the like.). Vicarious trauma is a very real consequence of working as an advocate/ally. As hard as this has been so far, I still haven’t really had personal interactions with survivors about their experiences.

The other big issue this has brought about for me feels a little silly, despite the warning we were given at the beginning of training that it’s a pretty common response. As we’ve talked about the dynamics of abusive relationships and the effects of trauma, I find myself reexamining my relationships (past and present), those of my friends and family, and the general behavior of people around me. I’ve thought a lot about my last serious relationship and the abusive tactics that both my partner and I used. I don’t know if I’d go as far as to classify it as an abusive relationship, but we definitely used abusive tactics. And, while I can’t speak for her, I left the relationship somewhat traumatized. While learning about the effects of trauma, I find myself thinking about a few persons who seem to embody a lot of these effects. I know concrete details about the trauma some of them suffered, but for others there may not have been any particular trauma at all. It’s kind of upsetting at times to find myself looking at everything through these new lenses. And part of that is the constant thought that I’m simply projecting what I’m learning onto the world around me and my past. But it’s also empowering in a strange way. A lot of advocacy training is, as my friend Pooja put it, “Training on how to be a good person.” I already find that, in small but important ways, I’m becoming a better listener. I’m better able to support people close to me in what they’re going through. I’m more aware of the power of my language and of validating other’s feelings and of just sitting with someone without trying to fix anything.

I don’t really have anyway to conclude what I’ve put here. More than anything else, this is just me trying to put words to my experience and feelings. Which I think is important. And, while it’s definitely less “formal” than what I had envisioned putting on here, I want to put it here anyway. Because I believe that personal narratives aren’t given enough credit in the academic/intellectual world. And because it’s (currently) the best way for me to express these thoughts.

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