REVICTIMIZATION OF BATTERED WOMEN AND CHILDREN INSHELTERS: BATTERED WOMANISM

~ BATTERED WOMANISM by Lucille Pope, NCADV Voice SPECIAL EDITION 1990. (Lucille Pope has beenan activist in the battered women’s movement for the past 10 years, working locally and statewide inBozeman, MT)

In a movement that is openly struggling with issues of power, control and oppression both withinitself and throughout the world, we must confront yet another “ism” — battered womanism. This“ism” has not been recognized previously nor legitimized with a name. Still, in both overt and subtleways battered womanist stereotypes and biases play themselves out in familiar patterns. I offer thefollowing observations.

Within our movement, there are stereotypes about battered women — dirty, lazy, sloppy, poorparents, uneducated. From those working in this movement, I have heard the following statementsmade about battered women:

• “Battered women are in their situations because they don ‘t say no (to the powers that be).”

• “The problems with the battered woman is they just don ‘t want to change.”

• “I have a hard time with battered women because they just keep staying in the samesituation.”

• “Battered women aren’t very good mothers (or why would they let their children live likethat?)”

• “I’ve rarely met a battered woman who follows through on what she ‘s started.”

If, in these same statements made about battered women, or substituted women of color orlesbians, we would, hopefully, be outraged!

A battered woman is seen as a “good” or “bad” battered woman. A “good” battered woman followsthe house rules, lets us “help” her, doesn’t talk to her abuser, tells us what we “need” to know abouther story, cleans up after her self, works and raises kids (isn’t she strong!), cries (but not too manytimes or for too many days), and follows a standardized plan of action. A “bad” battered womanfollows rules (but goes out too many evenings), cries too long or not at all, wants to meet with herabuser (outside of counseling), or doesn’t follow through on referrals (not really trying). We mayeven ask her to no longer use our services, and we develop lists of women who are ineligible forour future support.

We build services from what we have read or from what other programs have done historically. Wecut back services that were developed and provided by early activists and formerly battered womenbecause, supposedly, we’re more cost effective and professional now. We build services if they areconvenient, if someone will pay us for them, and if “good” battered woman will use them. We buildprograms based not on what battered women identify as need, but rather on what we determine isneeded by battered women.

Formerly battered women working in programs can become token success stories which we hold asmodels:

• Look at what she was able to accomplish (with our help of course),

• Aren‘t we doing well to have a low-income/black/lesbian battered woman with us?

• Some of our best friends are…

And maybe it is surprising that someone overcomes “client” status and returns to work with us, notbecause of lack of competence or interest, but because of the oppressive labels we attach so freelyto battered women.

Stereotypes are patronizing, insulting and hurtful. For battered women, the lack of a name for theiroppression adds to their difficulty in educating, confronting and building support which, in turn, addsto their isolation and denial (or internalizing) of stereotypes. So the circle completes itself. Theinvisibility of oppression is the ultimate denial of the existence of battered womanism and batteredwomanist behaviors in our movement and in our culture.

Consider too how bias has been institutionalized in our movement. For instance, we’ve builtprograms around what Ph.D’s have written and we prefer knowledge gained second- or third-handthrough research over the struggle required to understand the collective experience. By building offof theories, we’ve lost not only the voice of battered women, but also the sense that batteredwomen’s voices are important, relevant or worthwhile.

We have a phenomenal source of first-hand information in the women sitting across the table andthe formerly battered women working within this movement. Only by listening to her voice do wehave the possibility of finding the answers. But our own biases lead us to change her truth to ourtruth, to understand her “stuff” through our “stuff,” to plug her into defined boxes and circles andinteract with her through our “educated” bias.

We have so many theories and truths to absorb that we often end up missing the fundamental truth,the truth of battered women. I wonder if there is a fear of what those who are “one down” will sayabout those who are “one up.” Is it easier and safer not to ask and not to listen? Do we couch thisfear in terms of no time for evaluation, exit interview, follow-up or mentoring? And when we do ask,is positive feedback valid when from a “good” battered woman and negative feedback form a “bad”battered woman?

I hear bias about who is capable of doing our work, who holds enough knowledge and skills —enough to answer crisis calls, enough to facilitate peer support groups, and enough to serve inleadership positions. It’s inconceivable that, in a grassroots movement, a group of non-X’s hastaken responsibility for providing services for X’s. And that those X’s have no voice in assessment,evaluation or policy-making.

It is true that this movement is made-up of hundreds of individuals who are wonderful, caring andvery hard-working. But it is also true that programs, coalitions and the movement are not safe forbattered women because our language is inappropriate (client), we hold stereotypes that areinsulting and hurtful (good and bad battered women), and ingrained biases lead to lack ofleadership and participation (who should facilitate support groups or answer crisis lines.)

The good news is that formerly battered women are challenging local programs, calling for voice,and claiming their own power, skills and strengths. Recognizing that programs remain ignorant ofbattered women’s issues doesn’t mean those issues can’t and won’t be addressed.As we have learned from understanding other oppressions, change begins with awareness. Wemust begin to understand that the traditional materials and approaches of the battered women’smovement perpetuate obvious and subtle stereotypes and myths about battered women. We mustrecognize that we, as workers in the movement, are in a power relationship with battered womenbecause we have safety, resources, food and access to bureaucrats. The very fact that we have thepower makes it easy to become part of the larger, more oppressive system.

We must balance this power by clearly understanding the ways in which we are batteredwomanists. We must challenge our language, our structure and administration, the types ofservices we provide, and the ways we provide them.We must begin to question what we believe about battered women. We need to recognize that, if

we are raised in this movement, in this culture, we do hold stereotypes. Instead of fitting women intoour truth, we must build our truth around a larger collection of voices. We must begin to listen tobattered women as “normal,” healthy women and challenge the stereotypes that prevent us fromdoing this. We must understand that battered women’s issues may not be the same as ours, andbegin to ask battered women what they want and need, and what questions we’re not asking.

Within our programs, we must deepen our discussion of how we contribute to biases, victimblamingand the oppression of battered women. We must challenge our language and clarify what“client” means. We must make sure that battered women are in decision-making roles abouttraining, access to resources, policies and rules. We must provide battered women with informationabout ways to be involved in the movement by posting newsletters and task force notices. We mustcommit to including battered women in meetings and coalitions.

Finally, we must recognize that this movement that we care so much about is constantly changingand moving. Subtle indecencies and indignities can become institutionalized, as our programsbecome institutions. We must know and trust that we, as strong, caring, empowered women, canand will challenge ourselves and our movement to confront and eliminate battered womanism.