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Summer 2008 | Vol 11 No 4

News

Ethnoracial communities take action against intimate partner violence

By Avril Roberts

The launch of a community development project that will train immigrant and refugee women as leaders within various ethnoracial communities promises to deliver culturally appropriate responses to intimate partner violence (IPV) against women. The Community Leadership and Action Project, spearheaded by Springtide Resources in Toronto, formerly Education Wife Assault, grew out of awareness that immigrant and refugee women face many stressors that increase their risk of abuse; yet they are less likely than Canadian-born women to contact social services agencies for help.

“We’re moving towards changing people’s attitudes and actions,” says Angie Rupra, co-ordinator of the Immigrant and Refugee Women Connecting for Change program at Springtide. “A community development approach is more effective because community members understand the needs of their community better than we do, as an organization. They are able to manoeuvre within their community to see more concrete results.” The three-year project, funded by Status of Women Canada, will run until 2011 and will train about 10 women.

Intimate partner violence interventions have historically neglected the experiences and needs of Canada’s ethnic minorities. Yet the stresses of living in a new country, including isolation and limited educational and job opportunities, contribute to the risk for intimate partner violence

Such action is important because IPV interventions have historically neglected the experiences and needs of Canada’s ethnic minorities, a steadily growing population. Yet the stresses of living in a new country, including isolation and limited educational and job opportunities, contribute to the risk for intimate partner violence.

Despite this risk, immigrant and refugee women face various barriers to support. “Women would rather contact a social services organization or ethno-specific agency that has the language capacity to assist them,” says Fatima Filippi, executive director of Rexdale Women’s Centre, a Toronto agency with a 30-year history of providing settlement and support services to immigrant and refugee women in 18 languages.

Language is important, given that in some cultures, such as that of Sri Lankan Tamils, there is no word for domestic violence, says Dr. Robin Mason, a research scientist with the Violence and Health Research Program at the Women’s College Research Institute in Toronto who has interviewed Tamil women about their understanding of IPV. However, Mason’s work has made it clear that Tamil women understand the concept, mentioning abusive behaviours such as threats of deportation, tight control over spending, sexual abuse, daily beating and “hurting the mind.”

Social and cultural values and expectations of the community can pose another challenge. Mason notes that within many communities marriage is considered an unbreakable covenant. One Tamil woman explained, “We cannot separate, even in an abusive situation. We cannot seek help for problems, but we have to live this forever and only at the time of death, only then, can we be separated.”

Mason also found a lot of negativity related to the terms “help-seeking” and “advice” because they imply breaking up families or separating couples, so outside help should be sought only if the woman plans on separating. However, in arranged marriages, the stigma of separation and divorce can ripple outwards to affect the marital prospects of children and other family members.

Interestingly, young Tamil women told Mason that arranged marriages can be a protective factor against IPV because one’s parents assume partial responsibility. If a partner is abusive, it is easier to tell parents what is going on and get help from them, whereas, in a love match, the woman is on her own.

For many women, the greatest barrier to help-seeking is immigration status. Under immigrant sponsorship agreements, women are often socially and financially dependent on their partner, who sponsored them. Abusive partners often exercise control by threatening deportation and removal of children from the home or by misinforming women about their rights under Canadian law. Refugee women fear deportation if their partner is convicted of domestic assault, and women who have overstayed a temporary visitor’s visa and have no legal status in Canada are more likely to hide abuse than seek help from hospitals, police or the courts. In fact, many newcomer women discover that calling the police does not necessarily have the desired effect: They expect police intervention to be a deterrent to abuse, not result in removal of the abuser, who may be the family’s only breadwinner.

Efforts to reach immigrant and refugee women through mainstream public awareness campaigns are often off the mark. “We go for the harder impact – the woman with the black eye, the naked woman covered in bruises,” says Mason. “But when communities are asked to frame it for themselves, they frame it in different ways.” They often prefer images of the desired goal – happy, healthy families – rather than graphic depictions of abuse.

When immigrant and refugee women do seek help, services may be unfamiliar or may not meet their needs. “The concept of a shelter might be foreign because, back home, things may have been handled in a more community-based way, with the woman going to the home of a friend,” says Rupra at Springtide. “And the idea of counselling might not resonate because these are formalized services, a North American way of doing things.”

As a result, agencies that serve immigrant and refugee women are developing creative, non-threatening ways to reach women who might not otherwise come forward and to change community responses to abuse. As Mason asks, “Are we creating an atmosphere where it’s safe for women to talk about this issue?”

Springtide offers a peer education program where immigrant and refugee women are trained to facilitate community workshops with such titles as: Living with Others; Me, Myself and I; and Settlement: Dealing with Family Changes. “We know from experience that if we put ‘domestic violence’ or ‘woman abuse’ in the title, women are hesitant to come,” says Rupra. “We found that this approach gets women out of the house and talking about issues.”

Rexdale Women’s Centre, which operates out of 13 different locations, offers women a violence prevention and crisis intervention program that includes one-on-one counselling in their own language and two types of support groups – one for women who simply want information, another for those who self-identify as victims of violence and want support in moving on.

The agency made a significant change more than a decade ago, after a woman stood up during a presentation and announced, “We’re not perpetrating the violence against ourselves. It’s the men who are perpetrating it against us, so what is being done to work with men?” As a result, Rexdale signed on to Ontario’s Partner Assault Response (PAR) program, a court-mandated psychoeducational program for assaultive men.

The agency now weaves the issue of violence against women into all of its programs. English as a second language classes (attended by women and a few men) feature presentations on women’s rights and violence against women. Following one session, a man accused the instructor of counselling on how to break up families. Days later, another man brought his adult daughter to the agency and told workers, “She’s being abused. I don’t think that’s right.”

Filippi notes that the agency also plays a role in bridging the language and culture gaps when clients interact with police, legal clinics, housing authorities and the medical system. “We help people understand that there are cultural issues that are very strong within certain communities and ensure they work with and respect that.”

The agency is also increasing its presence in the community in a non-threatening way. It hosts a Christmas gift-wrapping counter at the local mall and sets up a table on parent/teacher school nights and at community fairs. Through a program funded by the federal government, a full-time worker from the agency is stationed at the neighbourhood library, establishing a presence for the agency.

“Given the complex issues facing immigrant and refugee women who experience IPV, health professionals must be willing to learn about the specific meanings of IPV within a woman’s cultural context,” says Mason. “They must respect the woman’s expertise and be able to work collaboratively with her and others to determine appropriate actions.”