Social work

Essay by QT4Nat May 2004

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It was the shrill ringing of my pager that jarred me out of the deep sleep I had been enjoying. The clock beside my bed read 3:30 as I fumbled around in the dark, reaching for the insistent pager. As I saw the code that flashed on its tiny screen, my heart sank. I thought of the sleet that had been falling as I had fallen asleep a few hours before, and of the warmth of my cozy bed. The very last thing I wanted to do at that moment was to get up and go out in the cold. Unfortunately, there was little choice; I was the only Crisis Companion available during the week between Christmas and New Year. Within a few minutes, I was dressed and en route to the hospital to pick up a woman and her small children, on the run from an abusive husband, and take them to our shelter several miles out of town.

As both a hotline operator and Crisis Companion for a community organization called Avalon, I had been trained to be an active listener, crisis counselor, and advocate for survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault. I thought of all the training I had received, as well as the passion which had driven and encouraged my work with Avalon, as I neared the emergency room of the hospital and prepared to meet my newest clients.

Every 15 seconds a woman is battered. 1 in 3 women and 1 in 10 men will be sexually assaulted during their lifetimes. 4 women in the United States are killed every day by their husbands or male partners. When I first heard these statistics in a Women's Studies course my Freshman year, I was astounded and thoroughly incensed. The more I read, the more committed...