Behind the Door with the Christmas Wreath
In March and April of 2020, many people in my town rehung their Christmas Lights. My family spent many evenings driving around looking at the lit-up houses and inflatable Santas and Disney Characters. My daughter, who had just turned three, was responding to the pandemic shutdown by refusing to wear anything except her Elsa costume. My husband and I were both trying to figure out how to work from home, parent our toddler-turned-Disney Princess, and process our grief and confusion, all while wiping groceries down with bleach and trying to minimize screen time. I’ll never forget how grateful I felt on those drives around town, looking at our neighbors’ repurposed holiday displays. I felt less alone and more connected with my community. I felt relieved being able to leave the house. I felt a seed of hope that we’d be together again one day. It was a simple act but it felt like an acknowledgment of how hard this was for all of us, and how much we wanted to support one another, even when we had to keep our distance. As isolated as we were, I felt more connected to my community than ever.
I thought about those nights recently, as I walked to my town’s annual tree lighting. I passed many houses that were decorated with so much enthusiasm and care. I passed a 24-foot Santa, a 6-foot rubber duck, and many inflatable Snowmen all dancing in the wind. I felt this overwhelming love for my town, a community where I feel so connected, a place where my daughter sees familiar and friendly faces wherever she goes. But as I started to get closer to the event and saw more individuals and families getting into cars and walking towards Town Center, I was reminded that not everyone in town feels the same sense of connection and safety that I am privileged to experience. As I walked on and admired the beautiful homes, I remembered that behind some of those doors adorned with beautifully decorated wreaths, are some individuals and families who feel isolated, lonely, and scared.
In every town, city, and zip code, there are people impacted by sexual and domestic violence. Gender-based violence does not discriminate, and while it impacts everyone differently, the impacts are felt, not only by the individual but throughout the community. Every community also has its own unique set of protective and risk factors. Years ago, I partnered with a group that lived in public housing; they recognized that their close proximity to their neighbors allowed them to see and hear what was happening with each other, which could, with trust and skill building, allow folks to look out for one another. I’ve worked with affluent communities where the houses are large and spread apart, and some residents acknowledge that shame keeps many survivors suffering in silence and isolation, fearing that no one will believe them or understand why they don’t just leave.
Last night, I facilitated a dialogue with student leaders to learn what barriers prevent their peers from asking for help. A student shared that people don’t believe it can happen in their town, despite there being a highly publicized domestic violence homicide that occurred there not long ago. This group of young people reflected that it’s easier to believe that it was just one isolated incident and that it can’t- or won’t- happen again. When I pressed them further on why folks may be so committed to denying that relationship and sexual violence can and does happen within their community, a student said, “We don’t want to believe it. We don’t want to believe that the people we grow up around, the people in our community, the people we trust could hurt someone … or even hurt us.”
When I chose to dedicate my life to sexual and domestic violence prevention I was given a perspective on life and the world around me that I can never fully shed. As a former colleague once said, “It’s like I have these glasses now, and I can never take them off. They allow me to see things other people can’t see, but sometimes, I wish I didn’t have to see them.”
It would have been more comfortable (and made for a more enjoyable walk) if I could have just walked to the tree lighting and not acknowledged that some of the beautiful houses I admired also held pain and suffering. It might be more comfortable in the short run to try to pretend that domestic violence doesn’t happen in my backyard. But denial is a save now pay later scheme. It may increase my short-term comfort but it doesn’t increase our individual or collective safety. If we can all face the uncomfortable truth that domestic and sexual violence are issues that impact the communities we live in, it makes us more able to recognize it, address it, and prevent it. My vision is that everyone in my town, and yours, can feel safe and connected here, and addressing the reality that there are people who do not feel that way right now, gets us closer to making that vision a reality.
We do not have to investigate our neighbors to increase their safety and wellbeing (note: please do not start investigating your neighbors no matter how many true crime podcasts you listen to). We can remain curious, interested, and open to connection. Being a resource to others doesn’t mean knowing everything, it’s being able to hold what you do not know. Just because someone has a beautifully decorated tree or a luxury car in their driveway does not mean they are safe and connected. We can be a reassuring light to a neighbor just by taking the time to say hello, offering to grab coffee, or volunteering at a community event. We can be a beacon of hope to a survivor in our town by encouraging local businesses to display posters with local resources in high-traffic areas. We can work with our school communities to engage young people in dialogues about healthy relationships and ensure that parents are connected to education and resources if or when they ever need support. A safer community is a more connected community, so just by taking time to reach out and connect to those around us, we are helping to increase the safety of our friends, families, and neighbors. We can do that this holiday season. We can do that, together, all year long.
If you are looking to raise awareness about domestic violence to your community, schedule a call and let’s talk about ways we can work together.
