SOUNDOFF: Advocacy takes a special person

So how was your day today?

So how was your day today? You got up, showered, brushed your teeth, had your coffee and went off to work. At work you turned on the lights, booted up the computer, put on another pot of coffee, opened the door and waited for the customers to come pouring in to buy your goods or services. At noon you ate your lunch, took a walk and then went back to the office, store, or shop. At closing, you cleaned up your work area, turned off the lights, locked the door and went home content, that it had been a good day.

What would you do tomorrow if you opened your door and there stood a woman with a bruised face, tears in her eyes, a baby on her hip and another child clutching her coattail. She says, “Please, my husband hit me and I need your help. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

If you were a CADA advocate you would have a sparkle in your eye.

Though your heart may be aching with what you see, you would say is a soft comforting voice, “Come in. Let’s sit down and talk. If you need to cry, that’s permitted and even encouraged. I can see you are hurting, but it is not your fault and you are not alone.”

The CADA advocate then sets about the work of helping to build a safety plan, providing legal documents the victim may need, and may even offer shelter if the victim is ready to leave the man who hit her.

By lunch time the CADA advocate may have seen two or three people who have been battered or abused — women, children, elderly, disabled and even in some rare cases, men.

It takes a very special kind of person to be an advocate. Those who are good at it are typically well educated, specially trained, and have a unique quality that allows them to help without getting emotionally caught up in each victim’s circumstance.

How easy it would be for advocates to put their arm around a victim and say, “There, there. Let me make it all well. I fix it for you.” This would not be advocacy. This would not help the victim. And, the advocates would soon self-destruct into serious depression, in need of help themselves.

Finding the right people to do the job of domestic violence/sexual assault advocacy is a painstaking process of evaluating credentials, screening backgrounds, listening and testing. Only a small number of candidates succeed in becoming advocates. They are uniquely gifted people who do a tremendous service for victims, and for the community.

Though CADA advocates don’t get emotionally involved in victims’ circumstances, they carry a huge burden. They are after all human, and the job is one of the most emotionally stressful jobs imaginable. Victims have shared some of the most painful circumstances of their lives, and due to confidentiality constraints, an advocate cannot go home and say, “Guess what I heard today?” There is very little an advocate can do to decompress from this stressful exposure on a daily basis.

Somehow most seem to find a way. I am in awe of their abilities, their stamina and their compassion. Advocates certainly have my utmost respect and admiration. I’ve seen them quietly save lives, and help those in need find safety and build a new life. They do this on a daily basis without fanfare or celebration. Our community should be proud to have people such as these in our midst.

As we observe Domestic Violence Awareness Month, take a moment to think about, pray for and salute CADA’s advocates. Until we can end domestic violence, let us always be thankful we have these very special people living and working among us.

Howard Thomas is Interim executive director of Citizens Against Domestic and Sexual Abuse.