The Center for Domestic Peace, Marin County 2010

We fly to San Francisco and I spend the next week with The Center for Domestic Peace; formerly known as MAWS (Marin Abused Women’s Services). The Center for Domestic Peace has changed its name in the last few weeks to reflect its expanding remit. It started life in the 1970’s offering crisis services to women who had been battered and has slowly evolved with the DV movement. Today its mission is ‘to mobilise individuals and communities to create safety, justice, and equality, transforming our world so domestic violence no longer exists.’ Again, that ‘changing the world’ motif.

The Center for Domestic Violence breaks down its services into three categories:

Firstly, Safety and Empowerment: this encompasses the hotlines, shelters, transitional housing, advocacy, support groups and classes for stopping violent behaviours.

Secondly, Co-ordinated Community Response which encompasses services which perform institutional advocacy and the engagement of other agencies and professionals.

Then lastly, Social Transformation – ways of changing society through capacity building and training.

On the first day, I meet up with Jennifer Lee, the TC-TAT (Transforming Communities – Technical Assistance, Training and Resource Center) Project Manager, she asks me to sign an Individual Peace agreement. This document is my pledge to engage in peaceful behaviour and to commit to being an agent of peace in my life. This highlights the shift in focus that the Center has undertaken signified by the name change. Rather than focusing exclusively on people identified as victims of abuse, they are expanding their services to incorporate everyone to commit to peace and to social change – starting with ourselves.

My meeting with Jennifer consolidates much of what I was introduced to in NYC. Namely; grass-roots mobilisation, community-led solutions/ action and capacity building.

Throughout my time at the Center for Domestic Peace I meet up with Encarny Aguado-Ansems, the Transitional Housing Manager, Ramon Manrique, The Economic Development Advocate and Graciela Rodriguez, the Operational Manager. Whilst I had productive and interesting chats with all of them, the time that will stay with me the most is my attendance at the Mankind class.

Mankind is the BIP (Batterer Intervention Program) of the Center for Domestic Peace. The BIP facilitator asks the guys if it’s ok for someone to observe the session. They all generously agree. I have some trepidation about attending this group as all the men are court-mandated and I know that amongst them are men who have been away for a very long time for what they did to their deceased partners; however, I’ll just be sitting unseen at the back of the room and no one will notice me, right?

The facilitator ushers me to the room and I nervously sit in a chair at what I think is the back of the room. But wait, the facilitator walks round the room and starts to write his name on the whiteboard above me. I have plonked myself centre stage and it’s as if the perpetrators are my audience. The facilitator then asks me to tell everyone why I am here and alittle bit about myself. They eye me suspiciously.

My introduction done, I slowly edge my chair towards the side of the group and try to make myself invisible but the facilitator doesn’t take my hint, Instead he proceeds to address the whole session to me – a recap over what they have already learnt over the last few weeks and all the men are watching to see if I understand. The facilitator explains that each participant is asked to conceptualise his abusive behaviour into an alter-ego name which outlines his chosen methods of abuse and then they go round the room and each tell me what their abusive persona is called.

‘I am a lying, manipulative, cheating partner’

‘I am a drunken, verbally abusive, hitman’

‘I am a mean-talking, unreliable, violent dominator’

Thank you I say, as each one finishes. Thank you, I nod politely and smile in my very British way. It’s a surreal experience to say the least.

I’m not too sure why, perhaps it’s embarrassment at the situation or the real desire not to appear voyeuristic or judgement but after all the men tell me their names and the room falls silent I hear myself disclose that I have been a victim of abuse and tell them that at times I also struggle with my abusive ways. They just don’t know what to make of that – so most of then look at the floor. Too weird for words.

What did I learn from this experience other than not to ask to attend such a meeting again? Well, as I look around the room I see a wide spectrum of men from all different backgrounds and all different situations. I see men who were struggling with addictions, abuse from childhood, poverty and lack of power in the society they live in. It would appear that many of them have had pretty traumatic lives to date. I can see that only a few of them are probably really motivated to change and that many of them were just sitting this out, bidding their time.