Ventura County shelter opens for Indigenous people who are survivors of domestic violence
In the first offering of its kind in Ventura County, a shelter has opened for Indigenous people facing domestic violence who often see no way out.
Officials don't know how common domestic violence is among the populations numbering 20,000 locally who have migrated from southern Mexico for work, but believe it is dramatically underreported. Many survivors never report assaults because they face multiple barriers, including cultural taboos, distrust of police and limited language and financial resources, officials said.
"We don't know if it's more pronounced," said Mike Jump, who oversees victim services in the Ventura County District Attorney's Office. "It is more hidden."
The Oxnard-based Coalition for Family Harmony opened the shelter early this year with a $300,000, renewable state grant. Under what's called a peer model, the nonprofit assigned two caseworkers who come from the Indigenous Mixtec and Zapotec communities and know their languages and cultures.
Caseworkers Yesenia Hernandez-Cortez and Veronica Gonzalez hope Indigenous survivors of domestic violence will see the shelter as a place where they can feel safe as they begin turning around their lives.
"We want them to feel comfortable and know they're not alone," Hernandez-Cortez said.
The coalition rented a four-bedroom home in a tidy suburban neighborhood after a difficult search in the county's tight housing market. Many owners were reluctant to allow their properties to be rented for a domestic violence shelter, but it is ready for business now except for hanging pictures on the walls.
Officials said they plan to conduct a strong outreach campaign to let Indigenous residents in crisis know about the option.
One of the "major, major challenges" is getting the word out so Indigenous survivors know it is safe to come to the shelter, that it is confidential and that it is not shameful to seek help, said Caroline Prijatel-Sutton, executive director of the coalition that serves survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence.
"In many communities, I think it is considered a private issue, a family issue," she said. "There is a lot of shame about bringing it forward."
The coalition's job is to show people shouldn't be ashamed to discuss what can be a dangerous situation, Prijatel-Sutton said.
"We are very confident it is going to be a very successful shelter for our community," she said. "We address not only the physical safety but also linguistic, cultural and spiritual needs."
Language is an issue because the written materials that other survivors can use may be baffling to people whose languages are oral, not written.
"Often that is when survivors stop pursuing any type of legal aid or social services because of that barrier," Prijatel-Sutton said. "So having an advocate that speaks the language really decreases that."
'I felt embarrassed'
The two caseworkers saw success before the new shelter opened when they helped a woman from the Purépecha population.
The woman, who declined to be identified for publication, said she and her partner had been together for 10 years when she decided she had to get away last fall. He was "very kind," at first but started to change after they moved together to the U.S. from Mexico seven years ago, she said.
The man, who developed drug problems and is now in jail, would hit her and level verbal abuse, telling her she was stupid and not worth anything, she said.
They were living with his parents, and she felt isolated with no friends, she said. She would tell her mother in Mexico about some of her problems but didn't want to share them with anyone locally.
"I felt embarrassed," she said. "I felt people would make fun of me."
She left him when she was seven months pregnant and had two other children, ages 4 and 7. He hit and pushed her after an argument, she said, then tried to force his way through the door when she closed it.
"He said he would kill me and that scared me," she said. "I thought he can come home and really kill me and what's going to happen to my children?"
The agricultural worker is paying the bills with nutritional and cash aid programs for families plus disability income for her pregnancy, but intends to go back to work. She said her former partner, who is the father of the three children, does not provide child support.
She and the children have moved to an apartment complex where they live in a bedroom and share the kitchen and bathroom for $1,000 a month. She's proud of what she did to improve their lives.
"Before I was always afraid," she said. "What is he going to do? Is he going to hit me again?"
She advises other Indigenous women to seek help even if they're afraid.
"If he doesn't make the change, you can make the change," she said.
Individuals experiencing domestic violence may call the coalition's hotline at 1-800-300-2181.
Kathleen Wilson covers courts, crime and local government issues for the Ventura County Star. Reach her at kathleen.wilson@vcstar.com or 805-437-0271.
This article originally appeared on Ventura County Star: Shelter opens for Indigenous survivors of domestic violence
