She was always late to family gatherings. We anxiously awaited her arrival, because she was witty and fun and brought us so much joy. She was a teacher, she had a beautiful and strong gospel-infused voice, and yet she never spoke a word about it. When she arrived at our family gatherings, there was always something that was not quite right about her — a run in her stocking, blouse not quite buttoned right — but we laughed it off as part of her sometimes-clownish character that we loved so much. But she was also a heavy smoker and drinker. As a young person, I just assumed it was part of her lust for fast living, but really, it wasn’t. And all of a sudden — she was gone. One of her sons committed suicide just a year later, and the other one is currently serving a long prison sentence for killing his partner and the mother of his children in the midst of a violent rage.
I was frozen watching our local news April 30, a mere month ago, as two murder-suicides happened on the same day. I did not know the two couples that were involved in this domestic/intimate partner violence crisis (DV/IPV), and yet I felt a heavy sense of loss and dismay. Again? And on the same day? Why? How come those who love us can’t just let us be? These statistics are often cited, but they need to be repeated, because really, this needs to stop. RIGHT NOW!
According to an article by Jennifer Farmer “Crystal Hamilton, Black Women and Domestic Violence” (Huffpost Blog, March 9, 2016), Black women are almost three times as likely to experience death as a result of DV/IPV than white women. Black women make up just 8 percent of the population, and yet 22 percent of the homicides that result from DV/IPV happen to Black women. Domestic/intimate partner violence is one of the leading causes of death for Black women ages 15 to 35.
According to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, “In America, one woman is fatally shot by a spouse, ex-spouse or dating partner every 14 hours.” On a single day in 2014 in Indiana, 1,807 victims/survivors were provided some type of service, and at least 182 requests for services on that same day were unmet due to lack of resources. Between July 1, 2013, and June 30, 2014, 67 Indiana residents died in domestic violence homicides, over half of which were committed with a gun. The definition of domestic violence is “the willful intimidation, physical assault, battery, sexual assault and/or other abusive behavior as part of a systematic pattern of power and control perpetrated by one intimate partner against another.” This includes physical and sexual violence and threats and emotional abuse. We need to stop this cycle of sustained and systematic pattern of abuse against Black women, all women — our lives matter, too!
It is difficult for someone who is an abuser to change, but it is not impossible. So I’m going to step out on faith and direct the rest of this column toward you abusers who are reading this and, statistically, I know there are more than a few of you.
Get help. Really, get some professional help. You need it, because if you don’t get it, you will suffer, and your loved ones will suffer more. I am hoping there is some decency left in you that can help you realize you would prefer to live in a more peaceful and loving environment. Admit what you are doing, and stop making excuses and blaming the victim. Accept responsibility and take a long look in the mirror, because you are making a choice to purposely take out your anger on your loved ones. She does not deserve it and, quite frankly, you need to find a better way to deal with whatever is making you react so violently — it is not normal and is very irrational. Walk away. And finally, no, you don’t get any credit for improving your behavior, because you should not have harmed your loved one in the first place. So let her, them and us just be.
Dr. Terri Jett is an associate professor of political science and special assistant to the provost for diversity and inclusivity at Butler University. Comments can be sent to tjett@butler.edu.
