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Joan Sisco, of Springfield, is one of thousands of women and children who sought shelter at one of Missouri's domestic violence shelters, but were told there was no room. Now, she is homeless.Missouri's domestic violence shelters had to say, "Sorry, no room" more than 21,000 times last year to victims trying to flee their abusers, according to the Missouri Coalition Against Sexual and Domestic Violence. That's because most of those shelters are already bursting at the seams. Where are these victims going instead, and what can we do as a community to bring these numbers down? You can hear our five-part series by clicking on the stories below.

With Three Small Children, a Young Survivor Prepares to Start Over in a New Town

Jeremiah Gill, KSMU

As we’ve been reporting all week, Missouri domestic violence shelters said, “Sorry, no room,” more than 21,000 times last year to women and children seeking refuge from their abusers.  That’s because the shelters were full. In this final segment of our five-part series, “Turned Away: a Crisis of Missouri’s Domestic Violence Shelters,” KSMU’s Jennifer Davidson looks at what wider community can do to solve this problem going forward.

Brandi, a mother of three children, ages 3, 2 and 1, is taking a rare, quiet moment to making herself a protein shake while her kids nap. She’s at Christos House, in rural southern Missouri, the only shelter in a 150-mile radius that had an available room for her. She was turned away by about 15 others, she says. All three kids have spent birthdays here.

Her husband broke her teeth, choked and bruised her throughout her pregnancies. He used the common tactics of emotional abuse and isolation to reinforce his physical attacks.

Nobody actually knew for about seven years that anything was really going on. I mean, they knew that I didn't really have contact with them, and that I really wouldn't call them or visit.
-Brandi, survivor

“Nobody actually knew for about seven years that anything was really going on. I mean, they knew that I didn’t’ really have contact with them, and that I really wouldn’t call them or visit, and that I really never went out and had fun with anybody. So they knew those,” she said.

Zak Wilson, with the Missouri Coalition Against Domestic and Sexual Violence, says the answer to Missouri’s crowded shelters is way beyond just funding—it’s an issue every community member must take an active role in.

“We need people to move beyond looking at domestic violence as solely a women’s issue, and look at it as a human rights issue that everyone needs to be involved in. If we get that kind of support at the local, state and federal level, then a lot of these issues will start dissipating.  You’ll see that shelters have capacity, either through volunteers or fundraisers, to meet all the needs they have. But then you’ll also see that we as a community are watching out for others, and taking care of our neighbors. Because, to be honest, shelter is a last resort for people,” Wilson said.

Everyone can, and should know the warning signs of abuse—which are far more than just bruises.

“So, the more that people are able to support each other, and reach out, and see that someone is getting more isolated, or see that someone is in an abusive situation—and reach out your helping hand, that will impact this situation tremendously,” Wilson said.

Amber Brignole, who works with Christos House, gives presentations on how to prevent domestic violence—she talks to schools, work groups and clubs. She teaches young people about the warning signs of control in a relationship, and reminds her audiences that domestic violence affects everyone—not just the homes it exists in.

It's people standing up and saying, 'Abuse is not tolerated in our community. And I will do the things necessary to make sure that victims are safe, and perpetrators are held accountable.'
-Zak Wilson

“We all live in the same community. And it may be just a couple that was fighting, but those kids are growing up witnessing the violence. And that’s what they are being taught at an early age—that’s how you treat someone you love,” she said.

Domestic violence has a draining effect on the medical, law enforcement, legal, and non-profit communities, and it hampers the workforce. It also has a significant impact on children and their success in school.

“The grades are gonna drop. Their performance is gonna drop. Anti-social behavior can begin. Depression. The effects are long-lasting. It covers the entire community,” she said.

Missouri, and several other states, are in a crisis with abuse victims being turned away daily, she said, which means everyone needs to do something:  set up a fundraiser, volunteer your skills as an attorney, tutor, or counselor. Keep checking in on that neighbor whom you haven’t seen in a while, and stop inappropriate jokes in their tracks. It’s also making sure your children and grandchildren know what abuse and control look like, both girls and boys. Again, Zak Wilson.

“It’s that local support. It’s people standing up and saying, ‘Abuse is not tolerated in our community. And I will do the things necessary to make sure that victims are safe, and perpetrators are held accountable,’” Wilson said.

Missouri domestic violence shelters will tell survivors, 'We're full, call back again' an average of 57 times today alone.
-MCADSV

“Volunteer at your local shelter. Get in there and ask them, ‘How can I help?’ 

Kelli Neel manages Christos House, and has held Brandi’s hand as she transitioned from a frightened, low self-esteem victim to a courageous, determined survivor. Neel says she needs volunteers.

“Don’t walk in thinking that it’s a glamorous effort. You might be tasked with cleaning out a storage space. Or you’re going to be put to painting a room and making it a little nicer for someone. You could transport [residents]. In the region that we’re in, public transportation is very limited, if it exists at all. Be willing to step forward if you’ve got two or three hours a time in a given week. Find out if you can go over and help transport the ladies where they need to go,” Neel said.

Both Brandi and her soon-to-be ex-husband grew up in homes with domestic violence, as did every other victim I interviewed in this series.  But Brandi might just be getting ready to break that stubborn cycle.  Right now, she’s packing her things into boxes. Her divorce will be final in a few weeks, and she’ll be moving into temporary housing in West Plains, where she doesn’t know a soul. There, as a single mom with three small kids, she’ll begin work toward the online college degree her husband never let her pursue. She’s determined to put into practice the rigorous counseling she’s received through the shelters.

“Most important is raising your kids in a healthy environment so, one, the women know how to be respected and how a relationship should be, and the men know how to treat people,” Brandi said.

So far, she’s doing everything right on the checklist, but she’ll desperately need the support of her new community. Despite Brandi’s traumatic experiences, she’s still among the more fortunate of Missouri’s domestic violence victims; that’s because, given the statistics, shelters will tell victims, “We’re full—call back again” an average of 57 times today alone.

(Join us on next Wednesday, July 30 at noon for a live, one-hour Studio Live Call-In discussion in which we follow up on our series, “Turned Away.” Host Jennifer Moore and a panel of experts will be taking your calls about this crisis, and looking for solutions and a way forward.  KSMU Intern Jeremiah Gill contributed to this report.)