Purple Ribblons

This shouldn’t be happening in Ashland.  Maybe in the big cities, or in some place far away from our home in Ashland County.  That’s where crime happens, that’s where television reporters gather, that’s where a missing woman makes the news – not Ashland, Ohio.  We shouldn’t have purple ribbons on our trees, the purple ribbons that signify domestic violence and the desire to bring a missing woman home to the arms of her family and our community.  But I can see one of the purple ribbons from my kitchen window.  This shouldn’t be happening in Ashland, but it is.

What we know about domestic violence is that it isn’t limited to any locale or to any specific kind of person.  It happens in small towns and big cities, in poor neighborhoods and in rich enclaves, in religious homes and in the homes of those with no claim of faith.  The lesson of the ages is that violence occurs over and over again, all too often between those who claim to love each other, and that people of both genders can be victims and perpetrators (although statistically women are more often the victims of physical violence).      

Domestic violence tends to be a pattern of behavior in a relationship that is used to gain or maintain power or control over an intimate partner (National Domestic Violence Hotline).  Unlike being accosted by a stranger at a random time or place, those whose lives are stained by domestic violence often live with an escalating pattern of words, emotions and actions that put the victim (and her/his children) in increasing danger.

So why doesn’t the victim get out?  Why would anyone stay in a relationship of any kind with an abuser?  If it were only that simple.  Beyond the financial barriers, the concerns for children, and the shame involved in having to admit to failure in a relationship, it may be just as dangerous (or even more dangerous) for a partner to leave.  In a study in 2000, Lees found that women are at the greatest risk of homicide at the point of separation or after leaving a violent partner.         

Because I’ve spent more than 30 years in the social service field, it’s easy to assume that I’ve seen more of this than most, and that’s probably true.  But it’s not the client stories that come to mind, as horrendous as they’ve been.  What I remember most is the neighbor on our street in Dover, New Jersey who was killed by the man who had promised to honor her and cherish her.  I remember the daughter of our maintenance supervisor in Cleveland who was pushed down the stairs by her boyfriend.   I remember our secretary’s sorrow over her daughter’s murder due to domestic violence.  I remember sitting in a courtroom with my friend, a clergywoman, as her marriage was officially ended by a judge because of violence in the home.  My co-workers, my neighbors, my friends. 

People hurt each other, people we went to high school with, people who sit next to us in church.   Men hurt women they love and women hurt men they love.  Idealist that I am, I wish I could wave a magic wand and eliminate violence and the threat of violence from our community and our world.  But there is no magic wand to wave, no crystal ball to predict with certainty which couples will struggle with violence.  And some will, even here in Ashland.

                “Bring Lynn Home.”  The purple ribbons that are wrapped around our community speak their message clearly, as do the t-shirts, bracelets and the thousands of “likes” and posts on Facebook.  But the ribbons speak a louder message for all of the Lynn’s, for all of the Rachel’s (Ashland native Rachel Kiser was shot and killed in April), for all of the grieving families and for all of the orphaned children: let us as a community do all we can so that all of our homes are safe.  As Maya Angelou reminds us, “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are . . .”   Might it be so.