Author: goodeye

The elephant in the room

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There’s an elephant in the room. Nobody talks about it and when they do, there’s uncomfortable silence and uncertainty about what to do.

Its a big old elephant – the subject of domestic violence in the relationships of people you know.

i think, as a society, we are uncomfortable with the thought that intimate partner violence is so endemic, that people we know are victims and survivors of it, and people we know are the abusers.

I support a refuge in South Auckland. Beautiful people support me, donate all manner of things and give money – all of this for strangers. Poor brown women who, on the main, live in South Auckland. They have no resources and the help is sorely needed and much appreciated. Everyone involved talks about it – about the problem of domestic violence, misogyny, classism.

But  the interesting and more telling thing is this – very many of the women who support my work are people who are survivors of intimate partner violence. Physical, psychological, emotional, verbal. Once Were Warriors in the leafy suburbs.

And I believe we don’t talk about it, and we don’t feel comfortable with it, because it’s easier to say: it’s over there, happening to those people.

When someone you know discloses personal information about their own situation, their experience of  intimate partner violence, I hope you listen. Because the likelihood is that you’re friends with their partner. Who may be hugely charming, really affable. Uncomfortable and weird, yes?

if you’re reading this, I want you to think carefully about how you react.

It takes women huge courage to speak up, and so many never do. So many women never ever do.

Because they fear they won’t be believed. Because their partners are people we may know.

We need only think of the case of Tony Veitch. Whose ex partner was vilified, and he himself suffered a brief period of Coventry and it is now as if nothing happened.

Today I was with a friend and we were stopped at the traffic lights. Across the road was a man she knew. He was abusive in his relationships. I observed that there’s so many men like this, walking around, no consequences for their inhuman behaviour. And so it is.

Intimate partner violence is endemic in New Zealand.

We just never talk about the violence that occurs right in front of us.

So if someone you know ever does, listen. And believe them.

 

Manākitanga

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One of the Aunties recently alerted me to her neighbour, an older woman who is looking after her grandchild. 

I asked for this woman to email me to tell us what she’s looking for. 

She very bravely has reached out today, and told me her story, and I can think we can help her, so I would beg your indulgence on this matter. 

As you know, this year is the year that I formalise the Auntie’s standing. Part of the reason for doing that is, from time to time, i’m contacted by someone who needs help, or by one of you to let me know of someone who needs our help. Usually with stuff, sometimes money. 

As a charity, we will be in more of a position to do this, crossing t’s and dotting i’s. 

So. 

This woman’s story is not one I am unfamiliar with, and aligns very closely with the work I, and you, already do for the refuge. 

Having said all that, she has sent me a list of needs for her and for her daughter, who has recently left a refuge. 

If we could help them out, I would be eternally grateful. 

She is working and striving to pay off bills and I think we can give her a hand with that. 

Her first priority is the bill for the Kohanga that her grandchild attends. 

This is $1,070.  

I have told her that the Aunties will pay this bill, which I will do from the Aunties account. I have the invoice from the Kohanga and the funds will go directly into the Kohanga bank acccount. 

As you know, the money in the Aunties account is an ever renewable source of paying for mostly groceries for the refuge, but our remit has expanded, so if anyone would see fit to help top up the account, that would be brilliant. 

You can either do that by going to www.givealittle.co.nz/cause/kapawhaea

OR pay directly into the Aunties bank account. 

That’s in the name of: 

MRS V L RAWHITI-FORBES AND MRS J GOODISON

and the account number is: 

12-3077-0008717-00

And now to the rest of the needs: 

Very simple. And I’m fairly sure we can do this for them. 

I have access to people with vans and utes, so moving stuff around is doable. 

. Things that T needs for apartment.

      a. A bed base for N’s bed.

      b. A small dining table.

      c. large cushions for the back of couch which has no swabs.

. Things that M needs for moving into her home.

      a. Fridge.

      b. double bed and mattress

      c. set of drawers

      d. single bed and mattress

      e. pots and pans

      f. blankets and linen

I thank you for your time, and for your hearts. 

I was just saying the other day that in the last 3 years, we have helped over 200 women, and around 200 kids with needs of some sort or another. 

That’s a lot of people, and that number is only going to expand as we go further along. 

Thank you so so much for everything you do, for your support and love. 

Yearly gratitude

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Its that  time  when I say thank you to all those people who have made #whaeapower tick throughout the year. Who answer my emails with alacrity, and who make sure that the women in the refuge have everything they may need. Giving money for drivers licenses, food, toiletries and undies, and even a van;  buying pressies for birthdays and Xmas; making meals for the women to share; bringing me clothes and shoes; sending me beauty products and Barbie dolls; supplying me with books, sewing machines, furniture and hugs; coming on shopping expeditions and putting up with my now ruthless efficiency. All of these things mean that I can do my do. When Kris asks me if something can be done, I always say yes, and we always get it done.

All these people have provided money and stuff this year (and quite a lot of hugs, laughter and tears) but most of all they have shown compassion, love and understanding.  In many cases, they have been wept upon and talked at by me. And they have all shown such beauty and grace. So the least I can do is thank every single Whaea and Matua and say: you make a difference.

i thank each and every person who emails me, texts me, messages me, rings me and says: how can I help?

I thank: Michele, Abbey, Melissa, Paula, Jude, Sara, Miriam, Somia, Felicity, Atarea, Izzi, Suz, Michelle B, Francesca, Jess, Jo, Miche, Meriana, Vivvy, Morgan, TerryAnn, Sacha C,  Sarah C, Vaughn, Dita, Kylie, Allan, Penny, Hillary, JoAnn, Marianne, Rochelle, Emma and Guyon, Allison, Rochelle, Shona,  Charlotte, Greg, Megan, Tracey, Leonie, Katy, Jane, Karen, Chelcie, Lisette, Rob, Isabel, Barbara, Alison, Jess, Lauren, Joanne, Helen, Ed, Nellie, Philip, Catriona, Maddy, Toby, Margie, Lee, Johanna, Tina, Emma, Liz, Jackson, Megan, Delaney, Heather, Raquel, Muirie, Susan, Emily, Roz, Tove, Pauline, Robyn, Rachel, Gina, Deva, Fleur, Vicky, Rebecca, my mum, Bridget, Rose, Rosie, Sabine, Lesley, Ana, Selina, Sherry, Claire, Colleen, Kristen, Cynthia, Jenni, Lorna, Vanessa, Sharon, Stasi, Vic, Vish, Ange, Kris, Dorothy, Siouxsie, Gloria, Karen, Melanee,  Su Yin, Diana, Liz, Elaine, Merryn, Mary, Paul, John, Meegan, Marina, Tamara, Siobhan, Sophie, Jeremy, Poema, Kerre, Kellie, Tina P, Bronwyn, Carol, Suzie, Stefanie, Dawn, Ninja, Bart, Rosie, Rochelle, Anika, Beck, Nigel, Helene, Nat, Anna, Wendy, Polly, Keith, Jacqui, Analies, Katy, Adrienne, Lee, Alastair, Jeni, LaQuisha, Fran, Rebekah, Lisette,  Miriam and Phil.

Thank you all so much for everything you do. I call us the Aunties because I want you all to feel part of a bigger effort. A team. Because that’s what we are. And long may it continue.

 

 

Domestic Violence

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I have been married for almost 23 years. For the first five years of my marriage, I lived with emotional and verbal abuse most days. I remember that some days, he was so irritated by me that even my breathing was wrong.

We screamed and yelled at each other. He never hit me. Once, I slapped his face to get a reaction, and he told me that if I ever did that again, he would slap me back. I yelled at him once, after he had been yelling at me for some time, that I should go to a women’s refuge. You know where the door is, he replied. My very best friend used to watch for signs of physical abuse and she said fairly often – come and live with me. If you decide to leave, live with me.

I never left. I was too scared of being without him. I thought I needed him. I thought he was what I deserved. That my unhappiness was what I deserved. I had no power though I was a strong, stroppy woman, I had always thought. I was ashamed of myself. I thought I was the problem. That I wasn’t attractive enough for anyone else. That nobody else would have me. He didn’t tell me these things – he just knew how to manipulate me so that I apologised first. That I thought it was always my fault.

I am still married to him. He is, these days, a kind and gentle man. He has apologised for his former self – I’m not that man anymore, he has told me. And he’s not. He is my right hand person, dealing with the refuge deliveries, and chatting to the people who come to our door. He has repented.

This all happened a very long time ago. But I still remember how that felt. And when I talk to the women at the refuge, and they describe their relationships, I say “That was me, too.” It has only occurred to me, since working with the refuge, that indeed it would have been a very good place for me to go. But I didn’t, my husband changed, my relationship improved. Mainly because he got very ill, and almost died, and that was our salvation. He was never as angry or abusive ever again.

There are many women, like me, living still in relationships like this. I hear from them quite often. I encourage them along, support them, and know what this looks like, from the inside. I know the stigma, and the fear. I know the pain and the unhappiness.

And all I ask of you is this – to know that the most common violence in relationships isn’t physical, it never ends up in the news, and it is lived everyday, by women you and I know.

This is my story. I am telling it so that you know, if this is you right now, I am here. I know. And I don’t judge.