Dying for love: the epidemic of domestic abuse cases

THE stories have become disturbingly familiar. Last May, the ex-husband of Ronyale White allegedly shot and killed her after breaking into her Chicago home. She had tried desperately to get help, frantically calling 911. But before police arrived, some 17 minutes later, White was already dead. The ex-husband's trial is scheduled to start later this year.

In January, police in East Point, Ga., just outside Atlanta, responded to a domestic dispute and found the body of Cynthia Harris, a 26-year-old mother of two from Atlanta, dead from multiple gunshot wounds. She had reportedly taken her 8-month-old son to visit his father, Andre Caldwell. After weeks of evading investigators, Caldwell reportedly shot himself as police were closing in on him.

Later that month in Milwaukee, police entered the second floor of a home and found three bodies. Authorities say 22-year-old Quan Hill shot and killed his 19-year-old girlfriend, Candice Farrington, and her 2-year-old daughter D'Naja Morgan, before turning the gun on himself.

Ronyale White, Cynthia Harris and Candice Farrington died violent and brutal deaths, and were killed, according to authorities, by men whose love they trusted. But they are not the only women who have died because of love--or the lack of it.

Every day in Black America, thousands of Sisters are punched, slapped, pushed, beaten or threatened by the men in their lives. Every nine seconds in the United States, a woman is verbally, emotionally, sexually or physically abused. Many of these women are emotionally and physically stuck, living in fear--scared to stay, scared to leave and terrified by their circumstances.

The problem is dramatically worse in Black America, where Sisters are victimized by husbands, boyfriends or exes at significantly higher rates than those of women of any other race. In fact, based on reported abuse cases, one out of three Black women will become a victim of domestic violence in her lifetime, compared with one out of four White women. Thousands of incidents go unreported each year, so the number of cases is even greater. The consensus agrees that it's one of Black America's worst-kept secrets.

"Domestic violence in Black America is creating another generation of hardened people--victims and perpetrators--who don't have a sense that there is anything good about relationships," says Resmaa Menakem, director of the holistic program at the Tubman Family Alliance in Minneapolis. "It's ripping apart the very fabric of our culture."

While domestic abuse occurs at a higher rate in African-American communities, the problem is not race; the problem, authorities say, is poverty, despair, unemployment and racism. Most of the reported abuse cases happen in poor and crime-ridden neighborhoods where couples or families in crisis have little or no access to counseling or remedies.

Dr. Beth E. Richie, chairwoman of the African-American Studies Department at the University of Illinois-Chicago and author of Compelled to Crime: The Gender Entrapment of Black Battered Women, says, "Substance abuse, the hesitancy to use law enforcement and the availability of weapons (particularly firearms) ... make the already complicated situation of lethal domestic violence even more so for Black women."

But this epidemic crosses ethnic, racial and class lines. You've probably seen the Sister--makeup or dark glasses poorly disguising the bruises, walking with a limp or clutching her side. She could be your mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece or cousin. She could be a pillar of the church, your doctor or your business partner. She could even be your wife or girlfriend. She could be you!

And an abuser could be anyone. He could be a best friend, neighbor, doctor or lawyer. He could be your son, nephew, uncle, father or co-worker. He could be you!

At its core, domestic abuse is about unhealthful relationships and the struggle for power and control, regardless of income. It's about a lack of self-esteem that makes some women (and men) overlook the pushing, name-calling, yelling, threats and hitting. It's about controlling the relationship, cutting off contact from family and friends and becoming the center of the victim's world.

The abuse cycle begins with arguments and blaming. Phase two is the actual violent incident or repeated incidents. Many women even decide to physically fight back, which carries the problem to a new level. There are some men who are beaten or have been killed by their mates. The last phase is the calm stage, where the batterer tries anything to win the victim's forgiveness.

During any stage, a victim may choose to leave. But women are in the most danger after they get out of an abusive relationship.

In Milwaukee, news reports of Farrington's death quoted at least one family member as saying that the boyfriend threatened to kill Farrington because she told him she was moving. Apparently, no one believed him, or they didn't do enough to stop him. "I never imagined that anything like this would happen," says Katresa Gray, Farrington's best friend. "No one ever does."