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Alliances of police, social service workers and volunteer advocates are working to break the cycles of yesterday's nasty little family secret. A woman makes a nighttime phone call to police, who arrive at her home to find her faced marked with an angry bruise. My husband hit me because I didn't know how far away the moon was, the woman told officers. Her husband, a schoolteacher, explained that his wife never listens,” and had failed to read an article on astronomy that he had clipped.
His department is putting together a comprehensive victims’ assistance program similar to those already in use in neighboring Redondo and Manhattan. Hermosa officials plan to fund their program with a grant from the Beach Cities Health District, which has earmarked $100,000 this year for measures to combat domestic violence. A 1998 study by the National Women Abuse Prevention Project found that physical abuse resulted in more injuries to women than rape, muggings and auto accidents combined. The FBI reports that domestic violence claims the lives of four women each day. Month of Light The Beach Cities Health District is turning a spotlight on domestic violence issues with a “Peace by Peace” educational campaign during October’s Domestic Violence Awareness Month. As it did last October, the health district is offering a series of workshops for law enforcement and health care professionals, and for anyone who may be exposed to violence. The sad fact is that domestic violence does exist in this community,” said Jo Ann Woodward, president of the health district’s board of directors. “It takes a community-wide approach to make people aware of the problem, and to find solutions.” The workshops will cover areas such as self-defense for women, safe dating, building healthy relationships, and how to talk to our children. The month’s activities are also meant to intensify the spotlight on domestic violence, which shrinks when it is exposed to the efforts of law enforcement, and the public’s eye.“ There’s a theory of visibility,” Straser said. “The more help there is for the victims, and the more the issue is publicized, the more people will feel that they can come forward”With Hermosa on board, all three beach cities will boast substantial victims’ assistance programs. Plans call for Hermosa to share grant money with Redondo, where trained civilian advocates accompany police on calls, help’ victims find community resources from therapy to a live-in shelter, and offer support during the prosecution process. The three-year-old program currently uses 25 on-call volunteers, who go out on three or four calls a week and carry a hefty caseload of follow-up work, said coordinator Dennyse Clark. Crucial Effort The approach in use in Redondo and Manhattan serves as a linchpin in efforts to help the victims, said Mike Hertica, a retired Torrance police lieutenant who trains officers to deal with child abuse and domestic violence.“ Most police agencies see their mission as putting criminals in jail, period,” he said. “The more enlightened ones see that the mission is much broader. And this kind of work actually enhances the ability to arrest and prosecute, because the stronger the victim is the less likely she will be to change her mind.”A number of police and social service officials agreed that the widely reported case of ex-football star OJ Simpson greatly expanded the public’s awareness of domestic violence.“Absolutely,” Hertica said. “It raised a tremendous level of awareness and empowered women to talk about what is going on. Statistics show that the reporting of domestic violence by the victims went way up.”Simpson was acquitted in a criminal court of charges that he killed his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman in June 1994. Following the criminal trial, a civil court jury found Simpson liable for the death of Goldman, and found that he committed battery against his ex-wife. Vicious Cycle The vast majority of domestic violence victims are women and their children who are abused themselves, or forced to live in an environment of violence. While women become ensnared in an abuse cycle that makes it hard to pull away from the abuser, kids can become trapped in a cycle that perpetuates the abuse through future generations.“It’s not unusual for these kids to act out later in life, to play out those roles that were modeled for them in the home. They may also act out in terms of finding a surrogate family, which can be everything from gangs to smoking dope —hanging around with people who ‘accept them as they are,”’ Hertica said. Emotional abuse, which is technically illegal but difficult to deal with on a law enforcement level, also takes its toll.“If you are constantly harangued, or called stupid, you will live down to that expectation of you,” Hertica said. “Pretty soon what you hear becomes a part of you. Out of the Shadow Abuse survivor Victor Rivers of Hermosa, a 6-foot-2, 210-pound movie actor and former professional football player, uses his celebrity status to serve as a national advocate in the area of domestic violence. Rivers, who turned 45 earlier this week, came to the US from his native Cuba along with his family in 1957, before the revolution and such immigration was banned by Cuban authorities. He grew up in Chicago and Miami, under the spreading shadow of his father’s violence. The father, an educated man who worked as a computer programmer, beat and verbally abused Victor and his mother. Victor was tied down, burned, locked in closets, and beaten with a meat tenderizer. “We lived in terror,” he said. “You would never know what would set him off,” Rivers said. “He was not an alcoholic, or a drug abuser, and it wasn’t always rage. He could be sitting here as calmly as I am right now, and the abuse would Just begin. When Rivers was 14, his father took Victor’s mother to live in a motel indefinitely, then moved to Florida with Rivers and his siblings. “He basically kidnapped us to Florida” Rivers said. His mother eventually plucked up her courage to leave the motel, called a friend for a ride to her now empty home, and spent six months tracking her family down in Florida. She and Victor’s father divorced, but he got custody of most of the kids. The next year Victor had grown large enough to stand up to his father. “When I was 15, I had the first confrontation with him that I initiated. I had had it with him, and that ended up exposing him for the coward that he was. Once he realized I was big enough to defend myself, he backed down right away,” Rivers said. “Then I had to leave home, because I knew he’d come back with a gun.” Meanwhile, Rivers had become a standout athlete at his Miami high school, and educators helped him find families to live with while he continued his education. “My life really turned around because people gave me love and affection, and self-esteem, all the things I didn’t get at home,” he said. “And I’ve always been willing to speak about the abuse. That has been a catharsis for me. "He went on to Florida State University and played football for noted Coach Bobby Bowden, and was graduated with a degree in criminology. The National Football League draft came around and Rivers was surprised when he was selected by the hometown Miami Dolphins. Rivers, then a beefier 265 pounds, played sparingly on the offensive line, shoulder to shoulder with some of his football heroes, for two years. Rivers, still small by pro football standards and competing with all-pro Dolphin linemen, was released by the team and pursued acting, a neglected love of his, with the help of an adoptive brother from Miami, Steven Bauer (who played the sidekick of Al Pacino’s character in “Scarface”). Since then, Rivers has appeared in nine TV shows and 24 motion pictures, including Steven Spielberg’s “Amistad,” David Lynch’s “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me” and 1998’s “Mask of Zorro,” in which he played the masked man’s brother. One day about 20 years ago, while Rivers was pursuing his acting career, his father placed a rifle barrel against his own torso and ended his life. Rivers, a tireless spokesman for the National Network to End Domestic Violence, has largely recovered from his childhood of terror. “There will always be some emotional scars. Under the persona of a big strong man, there is still a wounded boy under there,” he said. “In my business you’re rejected [for roles] more than you’re accepted, and sometimes that wounded boy is right there. But it doesn’t last.” For the past nine years Rivers has lived in Hermosa Beach with his wife, writer Mim Eichler-Rivas (Rivers, born Victor Rivas, adopted a stage name in an era when Latino acting parts ran a limited range “from gardener to rapist”).The couple has a 6-year-old son, Eli, who did some high-level domestic violence lobbying of his own when he accompanied his dad on a trip to Washington DC. Eli shook hands with President Clinton in the Oval Office, then stopped to chat with aide Betty Curry“I forgot what I wanted to tell him “ Eli said. “What was that?” Curry asked, whipping out a pen to take notes. “Pass the Violence Against Women Act,” Eli said. Comprehensive Effort Eli and other advocates had reason to celebrate last week, when the House finally passed the long-stalled legislative package of $3.6 billion for shelters, judicial and law enforcement training, child abuse prevention programs and a national domestic violence hotline. A similar funding package was approved in 1994, and will expire unless the current measure is approved by the Senate and signed into law. Police consultant Hertica said, “There is no central place” to address every aspect of domestic violence, which requires an effort by law enforcement, the schools, the public, therapists and social service providers. Locally, the Richstone Family Center provides prevention and treatment programs for family violence. The 1736 Family Crisis Center provides residential shelter for families and a variety of services including counseling. The Family Violence Council of South Bay, with 300 members including about 50 health care professionals, meets once a month at Little Company of Mary Hospital in Torrance. Treating Batterers In a Torrance meeting room of the National Council on Alcohol and Drug Dependence of South Bay, groups of 15 men undergo a court-ordered treatment program aimed at breaking the denial and rationalization surrounding their abuse of women and children, and teaching them nonviolent ways of coping with other people. All of the men have been convicted of crimes involving domestic violence. Some are sent to the program in lieu of jail time, and others must attend in addition to spending time behind bars. Similar groups exist for women offenders, but they number only a handful. An estimated 95 percent of the offenders nationwide are men. The men study anger, resentment and conflict resolution, and formulate their own specific plans for changing their ways. “They do the ‘hit man exercise,’ in which they are taken back to that monster that they were the last time they were abusive. ‘I am Mr. Selfish, Mr. Egotistical, Mr. Controlling.’ Often they are in tears, saying ‘I can’t believe that was me,” said January Wiggins of Redondo Beach, who has served as a trained facilitator for the groups for the past five years. If the men do not fully take part, they are sent before a judge who gives them one warning - do all the tasks fully or begin serving time. Wiggins said she knew of no studies on such programs’ effectiveness in reducing repeat offenses, so it is difficult to assess how well the programs work. “I would like to see some kind of recidivism study done. It’s a high recidivism rate [in domestic violence crimes], and if they commit a second offense they often don’t come back to the same program, so we never see them,” she said. “There are advocates’ groups that don’t believe these men can change their behavior. I disagree. I don’t think they all change, I don’t think 50 percent of them change, but if one man changes his behavior and stops hitting women and children, I think the program is worth it,” she said. “Sometimes they really want to change, when they find out there are alternatives to their behavior, and they start staying late, because they want more,” Wiggins said. “There is certainly no guarantee,” she said. “I don’t want to give false hope. I don’t want to make the victims think ‘Oh, he’ll change.'" For more information on Domestic Violence Awareness Month, coming up in October 2001, call 374-3426 ext. 135, or see bchd.org. |
In
the three beach cities, police received 249 complaints of domestic violence last
year, while an unknown number of cases went unreported.“ For every victim
of domestic violence who actually calls us, we know there are more out there who
are reluctant to report it,” said Hermosa Beach Police Chief Val Straser.