Many people think of
domestic violence as a man versus woman attack, and in most
circumstances that is all too true. What most people don’t
realize, is that one act of violence is like an octopus. The
main body of the animal is the actual act, the violent act
can reach out in all directions to affect others involved
with the direct victim like the octopus’ tentacles. The
suction cups on the tentacles are any person that any victim,
direct or non-direct, will encounter at any time after the
act of violence. I am here to tell a story of a victim from
another point of view.
April 28th, 1995, a
morning like any another spring Colorado morning, a man sits
outside a Albertson’s grocery store waiting in the parking
lot for his estranged wife to arrive at work. When the wife
finally arrives, the man exits his van and begins to take
aim and shoots at his wife, hitting the wife’s friend
who had dropped her off in the leg and leaving the wife to
flee into the Albertson’s with her estranged husband
in pursuit still shooting. The woman dives behind a long counter
next to the customer service booth trying to take shelter
and hide. Unfortunately, the man saw where his estranged wife
went and walked up to her and shot her eight times. He then
stood back in silence watching his wife struggle for life,
and crying for help.
The Albertson’s
store manager was in the customer service booth with a fellow
coworker when the shooting began outside. He had hid the coworker
under the booths counters and told her to call 911 as he hid
beside her, keeping her protected. As his other coworker laid
shot and crying for help, the store manager opened the door
of the booth, thinking the shooter had fled, to try and help
the victims. The shooter was still there, saw the manager
and shot at him six times, with three hitting the manager
from very close range. The shooter then runs out of the grocery
store and back to his van where he takes out a 50. caliber
rifle on a tri-pod and lays on the ground.
As the first officer arrives on scene, the shooter takes aim
and shoots the officer, still in his patrol car, with the
high power rifle. The shooter’s estranged wife, the store
manager and the Jefferson County Sheriff officer were all
killed in the brutal attack. The Albertson’s store manager
was my step-father, who I looked at as my dad. This terrible
act of violence from one abusive man’s rage, spread to
many others, causing them to be victims also.
I was only eleven years
old when I lost my dad that April morning, and I had no idea
the impact that day would have on me and my life forever.
The trial took place about a year or so after and I attended
some of it. It was hard for me to go and listen but I had
to know what happened and why. After the trial, my mother
fell deeper into depression and it spiraled out of control.
I was basically left to fend for myself from about twelve
years old. I don’t know if it was because of my age or
just who I am, but I tried to focus on trying to take care
of my mom, our house and just really had to grow up pretty
fast.
I turned to drinking
and drugs at a young age, but not to an extreme. I think I
was trying to stay focused more on school and my mom and just
tried to keep myself busy most of the time. By the time I
was in high school, I was able to stay busy with sports and
music rather than drinking and drugs. I learned from the first
few years after my dad’s death to hide things, to make
it look like I was doing fine to try and take care of others.
I was able to hide all feelings and depression about my dad’s
death, my home life, everything.
When the Columbine
tragedy happened, my school was only a few miles away. We
went into lockdown and it brought back emotions and feelings
that I had tried to hide for so long that I went home and
told my mom I wanted to move out of the “big dangerous
city”. My whole family is from Grand Junction, Colorado
and I was born there but have lived in the Denver area since
I was about two years old. So my mom decided it was time for
her to leave as well and put our house up for sale and found
a job in Grand Junction. When it came time to move, I being
a crazy teenager decided to change my mind and I begged her
to let me stay.
Luckily, I had a good
friend with a great family who was willing to let me move
into their basement. After many talks and arguments, my mom
finally decided to let me stay with them, and I moved in the
summer before my junior year of high school. Looking back
now, I am so thankful my mom let me stay to finish high school
with my friends and extremely grateful for the family that
took me in. They are an amazing family and really made me
whole again by giving back a normal family environment and
letting me into their hearts as family. This move helped me
to maintain the right path and keep my busy and focused.
I bounced around from
a few places after staying there for a year, mainly stayed
with another good friend and his mother, and was doing well,
but was finally realizing the reason I was doing well is because
I never talked about my past, my struggles. I just put on
a smile and acted like nothing was wrong. I found a great
girl who I ended up having a long relationship with and I
was finally able to open up a little to her and her mom, which
I had never done before. Things I thought were going to be
ok. Little did I know, I was setting the stage for a major
meltdown. You can’t keep feelings and emotions in for
so many years and fill your life with things to keep your
mind busy, without it finally coming to a point, where it
all breaks down.
I was starting to feel
afraid of being hurt. I had finally let someone into me, into
my life and into my past after so many years of trying to
hide and hold things in and putting up a front that I was
realizing this is someone who could hurt me. I ended up cheating
on her before she could hurt me. Somehow, she was willing
to forgive me and what I had done and we worked things out
and continued our relationship. Well, after about another
year, karma finally caught up with me and the relationship
was over.
The flood gates opened,
and I felt so hurt, so confused and sooo damn lost. I finally
opened up to someone just to end up hurting again. Years of
trying to hold everything in from my past, trying to hide
and act so perfect was about to catch up to me. I was in a
low place, so again I turned to drinking and drugs, but this
time on a much larger scale. I was finally hit with dealing
with what happened to my dad, what I saw and heard during
the trial, and how I hid it all away for so many years.
I drank to forget,
the only thing that would take the images of the large pictures
of my dad lying in a pool of his own blood, the hours of facts
and testimonials, the actual 911 tape that you were able to
hear my dad being shot and killed, was hard alcohol. Once
that wasn’t enough, then came the drugs. Small at first,
but increasing as it was harder to block the memories. At
this point in my life, I was completely lost in all aspects.
I forgot who I was, how I was raised, and I just didn’t
care about anything in life.
I began another relationship
with a really great girl. Unfortunately, even though I cared
for her, I didn’t care about her like I should or could
have. I treated her badly, so if she left, I would know it
wasn’t because I failed at giving her my best. After
about two months, I tossed her aside like she was nothing.
I ran before she could hurt me, and this began a cycle of
girls in and out of my life. No girl remained longer than
two months, if that. Looking back, I think I was trying to
fill a void, the emptiness I had for so many years of being
alone and left alone, but not willing to let anyone get too
close, trying to protect myself from more hurt in life.
Eventually, the drinking
and drugs couldn’t block the mental issues, and images
and I fell deeper and deeper into depression. It got to the
point where all I would do is go to work, and come home and
drink and to drugs till I passed out and every night, I fell
deeper into sadness, anger, hurt and depression. I was on
a downward spiral, and the hard alcohol I was using to deal
with my problems, started intensifying my problems. Every
night I drank to forget, actually made me remember more. No
matter what I did, I couldn’t block the images and sounds
of the trial. It got so intense that I couldn’t handle
it anymore and I attempted to drink until I had alcohol poisoning
and hoped I wouldn’t wake up.
The next morning continued
the cycle, more drinking, more drugs and more depression.
If drinking myself unconscious wouldn’t work, I felt
it was time for bigger steps. The second time I tried suicide,
I slit my wrists after hours of binge drinking. I didn’t
go very deep; don’t know if it was fear or just lack
of knowledge, but again, no success. But now I was faced with
two failed attempts at suicide, and embarrassment that I took
it to suicide and trying to hide the scabs, that it led me
to drinking even more, but I turned to beer instead hoping
it would not drudge up the past, but block it, and it worked.
Beer was my new best
friend, and no one was the wiser. I was still working every
day, still acting like things were fine and putting up a great
front. But I was still falling deeper into depression. Every
night I got off work, I would buy a twelve pack of corona
on the way home, and I would finish it, and most nights, go
drive and buy another. I didn’t care about life, about
my wellbeing or anything else. I just wanted to drink my problems
away and all at the same time, still trying to fill an empty
void with women.
I didn’t care
who they were, didn’t care if I knew or remembered their
names, or hell, if they knew mine, as long as I wasn’t
alone and they were there for the night, I was ok. I got so
numb to my feelings and had such a huge safeguard on my heart
that I couldn’t feel emotions anymore. I couldn’t
feel happiness, because nothing in my life was happy. I couldn’t
feel fear, because I was so mentally protected. It got to
the point where I would sit at home, drinking and causing
myself physical pain so I could feel something. I began to
cut myself, nothing major, but just small cuts all over my
body just to have a hint of some feeling, some emotional feeling.
Even though the only feeling I could feel was the one feeling
I was trying to drink away.
Eventually all the
drinking, cutting and promiscuous sex still wasn’t enough
to battle my depression and issues and I cut my wrist once
more. Even though I cut deep enough to leave scars, I still
woke up the next morning after passing out shortly after attempting
suicide. Again, I felt embarrassed that I had tried and again
failed and I hid the healing wounds the best I could. Friends
at work noticed eventually, and I just refused to talk about
it or say I cut my arm working on my car. I was down and out
still and trying to figure out what to do. When I took an
offer to move to Washington with my good friend who was stationed
in the military there.
I saw it as my out;
I could start fresh in a new state with a new life. Little
did I realize, running away from your problems really don’t
work, they just follow you wherever you may go. My drinking
continued in Washington, not as heavy at first as I was still
trying to hide all my issues and seem to live a normal life.
I met a guy at my work in Washington that I could really relate
to. He hadn’t had the easiest life either, and he was
big into drinking and drugs so for me it was a perfect match.
We became close friends and if I wasn’t at work, I was
at his house drinking and doing drugs before driving home.
I was in a drunken
haze most of my time, I would go out with my friend I lived
with and his friends, and when I wasn’t with him, I was
with my buddy from work, drinking at his house with his roommates
or going out bar hoping, still putting on a front for everyone.
Eventually a new guy at work led me to the ability to stay
focused on something else rather than drinking my problems
away. I got a second job at nights as a bouncer at a club/concert
venue in Washington, where he also worked. Felt strange for
me since I was so against violence to get a job as a bouncer,
but I saw it as a chance to help and protect.
I realize now, it was
actually an outlet for so much pent up anger. There were fights
most nights and most nights, I somehow was involved. When
I started as a bouncer, I had a calm, cool, helping mentality.
After my first few fights where I was forced to defend myself,
my mentality changed immensely. Instead of trying to talk
to someone and calm them down, I would grab them and start
pushing them towards the door hoping they would try and hit
me so I could get involved in a scuffle.
Especially when it was a complaint about a guy hitting a girl,
I wouldn’t take sides or listen to the guys defense,
if there was at least one witness who said he hit the girl,
it was over and I would completely lose my cool and make him
get into a fight with me so I could take out my anger on him,
acting like he was the man who killed my dad. I would do anything
I could to tempt him. I was lost and spiraling out of control,
again. My rock bottom came when I was in Washington.
After being sent home
early from my bouncer job for being in three fights, I started
drinking as soon as I got home. I was alone that night, no
roommates, no friends, just me, my beer and my thoughts. I
was ashamed of the person I had turned into. I went from hating
violence to using it as my release. Deep down I knew I had
an extreme drinking problem, but still wouldn’t admit
to it. All I could think of was how I let my dad down by not
being the person he had taught me to be, which once again,
led to a flood of images and memories from the trial, and
the bad things I had done so far in my adult life. I owned
a 357 magnum, which I kept under my mattress. I took it out
and stared at it as I finished my beer. In a haze of drunkenness
and tears, I held the pistol to my head, wanting to once and
for all end all my suffering and images I could never seem
to get out of my head.
I had hit my rock bottom.
I didn’t want to continue to live in shame for the person
I was, didn’t want to keep reliving my past. Eventually,
the only thing I could think of was my dad. I had already
let him down in my mind for the person I had become and the
things I had done and the people I had hurt. That was my turning
point. I felt so damn ashamed for letting my dad down, a man
who took in two young boys as his own, gave us a great life
and taught us how to be good people and good men. I couldn’t
continue the path of self-destruction and letting my dad down.
About the same time,
my brother was starting a divorce and needing help back home,
and since I had already been thinking about moving back to
Denver, I saw it as a perfect time to come home, not just
for me but to also help my brother. A new start, in an old
place, as a new person, or so I hoped. I was finally able
to try and deal with my struggles without drinking. Not to
say I totally stopped, but it was cut back a lot.
The cutting had stopped,
the suicide attempts had stopped, and I was facing my demons
head on. One thing that I felt really helped me to heal was
getting tattooed. I already had a few tattoos at this point,
and they were memorial tattoos for my dad, and I think the
actual feeling of being tattooed was again a way to feel and
continue to feel something. I began my biggest and most thought
out and planned tattoo.
I started to learn
from my past, learn from my mistakes, and learn from what
had happened to my dad and why. It took a few years, and I
definitely had a few setbacks from time to time, but I continued
to grow and learn. I started excelling at work, which then
led to more happiness. I came to the decision to stop letting
what happened to my dad continue to victimize me. I wasn’t
going to be a victim anymore, I was too strong for that. I
was going to make the best out of a terrible situation when
I was younger, and terrible situations that I put myself into
for many years after.
I now have my struggles,
my fears, and basically everything I had gone through and
learned tattooed on my arm. Every day I look at it, I am reminded
of where I have been, what I had gone through to become the
much stronger person I am today. I had overcome my problems
in life, still hard to deal with my dad from time to time
but nothing like it was in the past. After years of struggling
and years of having a mental and emotional block to my life,
I was able to make a positive out of a negative. I have helped
and tried to help others in domestic violence situations and
just help people in general. I have become the person my dad
had raised and taught me to be.
Without the struggles
I faced in life, I would never be as strong of a person that
I am today.
Domestic violence reaches out further than anyone would think.
I victimized others while struggling to deal with being a
victim myself and none of the people I hurt deserved it. Domestic
violence is not a “behind closed doors” issue, and
is not something to be ashamed of. Never be too proud to ask
for help or accept a helping hand, it may change your life
one day.
An
Excerpt from Mario Ortiz speech given on the Auraria Campus
in Denver 4/7/2011
Career and Technical Educator (CTE)/Resource Specialist
Goodwill Industries of Denver
"Many of us have
heard that violence does not happen in a vacuum. It is a product
of various systems of oppression. This in turn, pervades the
very fabric of our institutions and our media and affects
us all as individually and as community members. Everyone
in our society has the opportunity to challenge and reshape
our cultural norms around issues of interpersonal violence.
We all have a voice when it comes to speaking out about issues
like stalking, interpersonal violence, harassment, and sexual
violence. Yet, it is crucial to remember that our actions
speak louder than our words. And in order to break down these
systems of oppression and continue to work towards eliminating
violence, we must take steps on a daily basis to better ourselves
individually and for the benefit of our communities.
I was asked to speak today about Bystander Intervention and
I'd like to say that it, too, begins with self-discovery.
We have to enhance our own awareness about these issues and
increase the awareness of others. What kind of a person do
YOU want to be? If YOU were experiencing these issues what
kind of support would YOU want to see/feel? If YOU were to
see or hear an instance of interpersonal violence what would
YOU do to intervene? All of these questions require that we
dig deep inside of ourselves and understand not just who we
are and who we want to be but how we wish to shape the world
around us.
Taking part in rallies like this, take back the night events,
Vagina Monologue events that support crisis centers and domestic
violence shelters, standing alongside as an ally in this effort
to eliminate Men's Violence Against Women is a huge step.
When I worked at the Phoenix Center at Auraria we would conduct
Violence Prevention Educational Trainings on campus, trainings
that would culminate in a discussion on bystander intervention.
We brainstormed with classes about different strategies that
you could employ to intervene: group intervention, using "I"
statements, causing distractions, calling the police, informing
an authority figure (administrator, teacher, counselor, Auraria
security). And of course, various options were appropriate
in the varied situations that we discussed with the classes.
Interestingly, a lot of the classes also mentioned the option
of doing NOTHING, because, doing nothing is actually an option
that you have when you see or hear or experience interpersonal
violence. Yet, the take home message was very clear and always
caused a self-reflection: "I'm not here to tell you what
the best option is to pursue, I'm here to allow people to
understand that no matter what option you choose you are sending
a message to the parties that are involved. If you do nothing,
what kind of message are you sending to the people involved:
that you don't care, that you think its ok, that that kind
of behavior is acceptable. What kind of message would you
want someone to send to YOU if YOU were experiencing this
kind of violence!?" It really starts with self. We must
create an understanding within ourselves that this is unacceptable,
this is not ok; we SHOULD do something to intervene. Even
if your intervention is a phone call to the police or a, "Man,
that's so messed up. You should never treat someone like that!"
as you walk on by. Even this sends a message about how unacceptable
this is in our society. Explore ways in which you can challenge
these attitudes and behaviors when you see/hear or experience
them.
For the men here: I would like to quickly address an experience
that I had with the Rape Assistance and Awareness Program.
I used to train in Youth Detention Centers and day treatment
facilities as well as schools in the Denver Metro. More often
than not when we got to bystander intervention, the message
to intervene never quite clicked, until you said, "Well,
what if it were your mother, your sister, your daughter, your
aunt, your girlfriend, your wife…etc." We have to
move beyond thinking about intervention in this way, in terms
of motivation. The fact is, it is someone's mom, girlfriend,
wife, sister, daughter…etc. And it happens to MEN too!
It happens to PEOPLE! It impacts ALL OF US.
We have to begin to see this not just as a "women's issue"
but as a men's issue. Men rape, Men know Survivors, Men ARE
Raped, and Rape Confines us (in terms of people not trusting
us for fear of deciphering whether or not we are a "safe"
male, an "ally". We must begin to be leaders in
this movement, move beyond merely taking ownership for our
actions and begin to speak and act in ways that challenge
our rape culture. Don't be silent when you hear a sexist joke
or inappropriate sexist comment, email, or text message. Educate
others about the seriousness and prevalence of these issues.
Make sex a positive experience for you and your partners.
Do not use coercion, manipulation, intimidation, blackmail
or threats in your own relationships with individuals. There
are plenty of ways for all of us to begin to take the daily,
necessary steps to strengthen our communities and reach out
to others that are in need. It starts with ME, YOU and ALL
OF US!"
Mario Ortiz
Career and Technical Educator (CTE)/Resource Specialist
Goodwill Industries of Denver
(720) 423-8387 (work)
(720) 244-0154 (cell) mortiz@goodwilldenver.org
David Alan Thornton
is a composer/lyricist living in New York City. He grew up
in Alaska, studied French and Pedagogy in Indiana, and now
tries to make his way as an artist and waiter: Composer of
"What is a Man".
"As a restaurant worker, I meet and work with a large
number of people, each one different from the other. Regardless
of how close one might be with another, we all affect one
another. A few years ago, a worked with a lady who would come
into work with bruises on her arms and obvious injury. I and
co-workers would ask what happened, and she'd blame it on
the stairs or a door. We all knew her boyfriend at that time
(he had worked with us before) so we had a pretty good idea
of what was happening, but how could we tell her we cared
when she told us everything was innocent? One day, she came
in with a huge smile on her face. 'I did it,' she said. 'I
left him.' We were terribly proud, but I felt that I should've
said something before, especially since my suspicions were
correct. Maybe I could've helped here out sooner."
David Alan Thornton
From Dan Benavidez,
(translated into Spanish follows)
"From a personal
point of view and as a Latino male I know that within our
culture and within many of our families there is an attitude
that we men are due respect within the family structure. That
the men and elders within our family structure are to be respected
and obeyed, and unfortunately this not only sometimes but
frequently leads to sense of ownership and domestic violence
of the women within our families or for that matter to women
in general.
There is also a misunderstanding
that the domestic violence that occurs within our culture
can be attributed to the “Machismo syndrome” this
is not necessarily true because “machismo” also
implies a man of honor, a man of respect, of bravery. We as
Latino males must be men of honor and respect and respect
the women around us and also teach our children that is not
only not acceptable in the true sense of the Macho man to
commit domestic violence against our girl friends, our wives,
our sisters, etc but it is in the true sense of machismo to
honor women, it is in the true sense of machismo to respect
women as we also want to be respected. We Latino males are
no way superior and we should never attempt to dominate women
and women are not just objects.
Domestic violence is not only against our laws it is also
not acceptable behavior. As Latino men of honor, one of our
esteemed heroes Emiliano Zapata said “It is better to
die standing on your feet than to be living on your knees”
with these words he exemplified our courage and honor. With
those most courageous and honorable words in mind I would
say “That it is better to be men of honor than cowards
who promote and practice domestic violence”. I ask all
Latino males to join me in a campaign against domestic violence
and use the campaign as a time to spread the word within our
community that we are men of honor and that as men of honor
we do not tolerate domestic violence, that we as men of honor
do not tolerate violence of any kind against women or against
anyone in our families.
So this Latino for
one will "By taking action, no longer ignore the problem”
Let us Latino males say loudly for all to hear that Cleary
yes “SI SE PUEDE” yes we can and we should work
to end all domestic violence!
Dan Benavidez
Longmont, Colorado
Desde un punto de vista personal y como un hombre latino sé
que dentro de nuestra cultura y dentro muchas nuestras familias
hay un actitud que hombres están debido respeto dentro
de la estructura de la familia. Que los hombres y los ancianos
dentro de nuestra estructura de la familia deben ser respetados
y obedecidos, y desafortunadamente esto no sólo a veces,
pero con frecuencia conduce al sentido de propiedad y la violencia
doméstica de las mujeres dentro de nuestras familias
o para el caso de las mujeres en general.
También hay
un malentendido de que la violencia doméstica que se
produce dentro de nuestra cultura se puede atribuir al "síndrome
de machismo" esto no es necesariamente cierto, porque
el "machismo" implica también un hombre de
honor, un hombre de respeto, de la valentía. Nosotros,
como hombres latinos deben ser hombres de honor y respeto,
y dar respeto a las mujeres alrededor de nosotros y también
enseñar a nuestros hijos que no sólo es inaceptable
en el verdadero sentido del hombre macho hacer violencia doméstica
contra de nuestras amigas, a nuestras esposas, nuestras hermanas
, etc., pero es en el verdadero sentido del machismo de respetar
y honrar a las mujeres, es en el verdadero sentido del machismo
a respetar a las mujeres como nosotros también queremos
ser respetados. Nosotros los hombres latinos no son ninguna
manera superior y nunca debe tratar de dominar a las mujeres
y las mujeres no son sólo objetos.
La violencia doméstica
no sólo es contrario a nuestras leyes, también
es un comportamiento que no es aceptable y como hombres Latinos
de honor, uno de nuestros héroes estimado
Emiliano Zapata dijo: "Es mejor morir de pie en su pie
que vivir de rodillas", con estas palabras, ejemplificó
nuestro valor y honor. Con estas palabras, más valientes
y en mi mente yo dijera "Que es mejor hacer un hombre
de honor de ser un cobarde que promueva y práctica
la violencia doméstica”. Les pido a todos los
hombres latinos que unirse conmigo en una campaña contra
la violencia doméstica y a usar la campaña como
una oportunidad para difundir la palabra dentro de nuestra
comunidad que somos hombres de honor y que como hombres de
honor que no toleran la violencia doméstica, que como
hombres de honor no toleran ningún tipo de violencia
contra las mujeres o contra cualquier persona en nuestra familia.
Así que este
Latino voy a " "Adoptar medidas, y no voy a ignorar
la problema"
“Vamos como hombres latinos a decir en voz alta para
que todos sepan que claro que "SI SE PUEDE" ¡Sí,
podemos y debemos trabajar para poner fin a toda forma de
violencia Doméstica!
Dan Benavidez
Longmont, Colorado
Copyright 2011,
ItStopsWithMe.org, All Rights Reserved
