Our Widget:: Why Don't They Just Leave?

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Addicted to Power and Control: Inmates who Incriminate Themselves

The Times ran a fascinating story last week (here) about New York City alleged domestic violence inmates who incriminate themselves in recorded jail house conversations.

Jail policy was changed to allow recording in 2007, and the installation of a digital recording system was completed last year. With the recording system in place, alleged batterers being held in city jails have been caught pressuring and cajoling their partners to change testimony or not appear in court. In many cases, the fact that the partners were even visiting represented a violation of a protection order. Prosecutors say that the recordings have been particularly useful in cases of "no drop" prosecution -- cases where the victim has declined to testify against the abuser -- which happens 75 percent of the time, according to the NYT.

Well known domestic violence prosecutor and family justice center innovator Casey Gwinn believes that the new system represents a huge breakthrough. He told the Times: "'When you’re talking about domestic violence cases,' Mr. Gwinn said, 'this policy of monitoring every jail call is probably the single most important investigative procedure put in place in the last decade anywhere in the country.'"

Monday, January 17, 2011

Celebrity a platform to overcome Domestic Violence (And didn't she look fabulous at the Golden Globes?)

A guest blog by Sarah K Grundy

Can being in public eye serve as a refuge, an escape, a relief? Actors, models and other notable and negligible talents make a non stop business out of confessing tragic pasts, insecure childhoods, dysfunctional home lives, abusive relationships, absentee fathers, rape, violence, or molestation.

And all too often, it's someone on the C list trying to claw onto the B list via talk show appearances or reality show turns. But sometimes it's real, and sometimes someone who happens to be famous makes a big difference.

Halle Berry makes an art form out of turning pain into prestige. This is true in her art and in her life—most recently, the woman who was the first African- American to win an Oscar opened up and went public about her childhood with domestic violence. On NBC Nightly News Berry says, “My Mother was a battered woman and that was my childhood for a good chunk of it.” Berry, raised by a single mother, also won an Emmy, Academy Award and Golden Globe. Her fame is not a mistake. In high school she was a cheerleader and prom queen and later first-runner up for Miss USA. After modeling for three years in Chicago her acting career took flight.

Berry sets the stage for women who’ve otherwise been stripped of certain dignities, by means of abuse. She fought back, proving it is an attainable victory, well worth the constant struggle. Berry’s perseverance gained her the public’s devotion, lending to her confidence, self- image, and the love she craved from home. "I think I've spent my adult life dealing with the sense of low self-esteem that sort of implanted in me. Somehow I felt not worthy," she told CNN. "Before I'm 'Halle Berry,' I'm little Halle....a little girl growing in this environment that damaged me...I've spent my adult life trying to really heal from that."

Halle Berry uses her well-deserved prowess to brave the battle of social change. Her commitment to the issue of domestic violence goes beyond tabloid-style self-revelation. Berry volunteers her time at the Jenesse Center in Los Angeles, a shelter for victims of domestic violence with six locations that provide resources and support for victims of domestic violence. Women seeking refuge from abusers are given food, shelter and safe housing for themselves and their children. The women begin a devoted program that focuses on breaking the pattern of abuse by providing training, mental health counseling and legal services.

Sarah is a writer and founder of SKG Ink