No Visible Bruises: What We Don’t Know About Domestic Violence Can Kill Us

On a December night, Snyder is in Washington, DC—a city she says has embraced the communication and collaboration model. DC Safe is a 24-hour response line that finds short-term safety and immediate solutions for victims. Its advocates are able to access court dockets and see if the abuser has warrants or protection orders against him or other cases pending. They can get locks changed, forensic nurses scheduled, groceries delivered, attorneys retained, and taxis and hotels booked within minutes. Advocates also ride along with officers to help out in person.

Natalia Otero and Elizabeth Olds co-founded DC Safe to help victims make smart, informed decisions in the heat of the moment. Otero says her initial approach was to serve as a clearinghouse for domestic violence calls, but through numerous partnerships and programs, DC Safe now does much more and serves more than 8,000 clients a year.

Snyder wants to be optimistic about the work that is being done to stop domestic violence, but it is difficult given the political climate in which she is writing (2018). The news is rife with mass shootings, domestic homicides, cultural misogyny, rampant gun violence, and an ever-increasing number of guns per capita:

The United States is the most dangerous developed country in the world for women when it comes to gun violence. This is not an issue of partisanship, liberal versus conservative, though I understand many people view it that way; to me it is a moral imperative (272).

Yet there are reasons to remain hopeful: men who are allies in the fight to end domestic violence, smartphone apps for emergencies, Family Justice Centers that pool victim services under one roof, camps that teach children that abuse is not normal, rapid assessments that allow police officers to call in domestic violence advocates immediately, a growing understanding of why abuse victims behave the way they do, and the felony status of stalking and strangling in over 40 states. Snyder quotes Lynn Rosenthal, Obama’s former advisor on Violence Against Women, to suggest that men have been the biggest beneficiaries of the women’s movement: “Look at all the men who have a very different relationship [today] with their children. They go to school events; they talk to their kids […] Look at how involved young fathers are” (275).

Family violence affects virtually every aspect of society, so solutions will be similarly complex. Snyder believes the one thing that is most effective is communication “[a]cross bureaucracies, certainly, but also political ideologies and programs, people and systems and disciplines” (276).

Snyder returns the narrative to DC Safe and names Naomi, a survivor who is manning the phones. Just as Snyder begins to think that the work Naomi is doing is pointless, she remembers that Kelly Dunne told her it is imperative to stop domestic violence at the misdemeanor phase. The calls Naomi is taking are actually indicators of progress towards that goal. Snyder also thinks about the personal motivation Naomi has for working to combat domestic violence, which virtually everyone Snyder has met while researching shares: “Behind every one of them was this shadow of another body, a terrible story. But all of them were also the disruptors now, changing the future narrative” (279).

Snyder returns to Kelly Dunne and the death of Dorothy Giunta-Cotter. Snyder asks Dunne what she would say to Giunta-Cotter now, if she had the chance:

Dunne started to answer; then something stopped her, like her body suddenly hit an invisible wall. She bolted from her desk to a bank of filing cabinets, where I could not see her. I heard her short sharp breaths, a sniffle. ‘No one’s ever asked me that before,’ she said.

I sat without speaking.

Dunne came back to her desk, wiped at her eyes. Then she looked at me and whispered, ‘I would tell her I’m sorry.’ (280).