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‘One day they will hear my voice’: Two Philly Latinas talk about domestic abuse in advance of Voices Against Violence forum with mayoral candidates

Rosaura Torres Thomas's husband nearly blinded her. Betania Shephard's spouse used her immigration status to keep her from reporting abuse. Their cases aren't unique say organizers of the forum.

Betania Shephard with her children and her second husband, Baldomero Mejía. Shepherd met Mejia in Philadelphia after leaving her abusive first husband in Maryland.
Betania Shephard with her children and her second husband, Baldomero Mejía. Shepherd met Mejia in Philadelphia after leaving her abusive first husband in Maryland.Read moreCourtesy of Emma Restrepo

Betania Shephard fled from Maryland to Philadelphia to escape domestic abuse 14 years ago.

“I arrived with my 1-year-old son, two suitcases, and $400,” the 37-year-old immigrant from the Dominican Republic told The Inquirer.

She recounted that the abuse started when she was 22, when her son was a year old and she and her husband were living in Maryland. Shephard had no identification documents, not even from the Dominican Republic, and her husband used that fact to isolate and control her. When Shepherd told her husband and mother-in-law that she was going to report her abuse to the police, they threatened to turn her over to immigration authorities.

“They told me that they were going to take the child from me and that [my husband] would get custody because he did have [documentation]. Can you imagine?” she added, “a Dominican mother, a woman like me [choosing to risk] that?”

She tried to escape the situation with the help of an uncle who lives in Puerto Rico and of her brother, who lives in Venezuela, and got as far as lining up a new place to live, but didn’t have money to get to it. She asked a cousin who lived nearby to lend her $20 for a taxi, and waited for her at an agreed-upon corner, but the cousin never showed.

Shephard was forced to return to the unsafe home she was trying to escape.

“We are hosting this forum to ... ensure it is top of mind for Philadelphia’s next mayor.”

Joanna Otero-Cruz

Shephard’s story of intimate partner violence and her difficulty in escaping it is far from unique. The problem is common enough, in fact, that in this busy season of mayoral candidate forums there is one scheduled for April 19 focused entirely on domestic violence policy and prevention.

“We are hosting this forum to shine a light on intimate partner violence and sexual violence and ensure it is top of mind for Philadelphia’s next mayor, because this issue has devastating effects on the safety and well-being of our community,” said Joanna Otero-Cruz, executive director and president of Women Against Abuse.

“Much of the focus leading up to the election has been on the desperate need to prevent gun violence, and rightly so. However, it is essential that the city’s next leader prioritize holistic approaches to addressing community violence that take gender-based violence into account.”

According to the Women Against Abuse website, the Philadelphia Police annuallyrespond to more than 100,000 emergency 911 calls that are “domestic in nature,” and in 2021, 7,294 new petitions for protection from abuse orders were sought in Philadelphia Family Court.

“According to the Now Foundation, immigrants and undocumented women experience rates of abuse of up to 49.8%,” said Katie Young-Wides, senior communications specialist at Philadelphia’s Women Against Abuse.

Otero-Cruz said that WAA is “in the middle of a strategic planning process that will set the course for Women Against Abuse for years to come. … [We want to] build a deeper relationship with our city’s immigrant and LGBTQ+ communities, who have been underserved for far too long.”

“I didn’t know anything about the laws of this country, about my rights.”

Betania Shephard

For Shephard, help finally came when her mother and a best friend — both living in the Dominican Republic — connected her with people who were willing to help her in Philadelphia. With $400 in hand from her brother in Venezuela, Shephard arrived in Philadelphia to start anew.

“I didn’t know anything about the laws of this country, about my rights,” she said. But it was here, she said, where she decided to fight for a new life. Three organizations were critically important to that new life, and remain so today: the Domestic Workers Alliance, Make the Road Pennsylvania, and the Comadre Luna network — a feminist collective based in Philadelphia made up of Latinx immigrants, workers, mothers, and organizers for women’s liberation.

Non-immigrant Latinas also experience significant rates of intimate partner violence. A report issued in 2021 by Esperanza United stated that 1 in 12 Latinas (8.6%) has experienced it in the previous 12 months, and about 1 in 3 Latinas (34.4%) will experience it during their lifetime.

Rosaura Torres Thomas was the 1 in 3.

She is from Milwaukee of Puerto Rican parents who arrived to the mainland from the Island in 1949. When Torres Thomas was 7 years old, her eight siblings and her mother came to Philadelphia because her father was offered a job.

“We were poor. I worked in the fields in New Jersey picking the blackberry, peach, and tomato crops,” Torres Thomas said.

At 16, she had her first child, and two more followed. And while she was still very young, she got married, although not to the father of her children.

“He used to hit me,” she told The Inquirer. Although her abusive relationship ended more than 20 years ago, she still has flashbacks. She is nearly blind due to the physical abuse and needs to use a cane to get around.

Like many survivors, Torres Thomas thought that her options for leaving the relationship were few, especially because her husband — a police officer in Lancaster who would eventually run for police commissioner — was the primary breadwinner. “Men earn more than women, and there is always the fear of not knowing what to do,” she said. “I was a receptionist then, so he was the provider.”

Her mother was suspicious that abuse was taking place in the marriage. “She always asked me if something was wrong with me. I was quiet. I never said anything,” Torres Thomas said. Other people with whom she broached the subject dismissed her concerns, telling her not to act “crazy.”

Torres Thomas did eventually report her husband’s abuse, to little effect. But when her husband finally did leave the relationship, he left his mark. He hit her right eye so hard that it impaired her vision. A subsequent relationship, with a state trooper, was also abusive and left her blind in the other eye.

“The truth is that justice does not take notice of us and especially if [those who mistreat] are police officers,” Torres Thomas said.

“The truth is that justice does not take notice of us.”

Rosaura Torres Thomas

Now a commissioner in Philadelphia’s Citizens Police Oversight Commission, Torres Thomas added, “for us to get a protection order is [tough] … the justice system offers relief to the police before they offer relief to the survivor.”

For those who do manage to leave an abusive relationship, finding a safe place to go can be another hurdle. The WAA website reports that domestic violence hotline counselors were forced to turn away 1,177 requests for shelter in fiscal year 2022, in part because the two 100-bed emergency safe havens — which provide the only shelter beds for survivors of domestic violence in Philadelphia — were already full.

Torres Thomas said joining different organizations helped her overcome the shame she felt from the abuse. She heard many testimonies and now knows she is not the only one. “[I am grateful that] God has put good people in my path,” she said.

And both women believe in advocating in ways that intersect the fight against domestic violence. Shephard, who is now happily remarried, has focused on fighting for the rights of domestic workers, especially after the pandemic left them without work and help from the government. Torres Thomas is not only an advocate for women’s rights, but also committed to the Black Lives Matter movement.

Torres Thomas said that one day during her trajectory she said to herself: “Not today, not tomorrow, but one day they will hear my voice.”

Today she is the author of a book, Abuse Hidden Behind the Badge, which has received awards and mentions from New York to Los Angeles.

Torres Thomas said what she expects from the next Philadelphia mayor is that they “hear the cries of so many survivors who have been afraid to speak out.”

Shephard wants the future mayor to better consider harassment and threats — including those made by phone — part of the abuse because, she said, “when I moved, the father of my son kept harassing me and they didn’t take me into account because, according to them [the police], there was no visible danger.”

But no matter who is mayor, Torres Thomas is focused on solidarity.

“We have to get together because justice does not treat us right,” she said. “It doesn’t matter if you are from Mexico, Nicaragua, Colombia, or Cuba. Latina women must come together.

“And I tell you this: You are not alone. I am here for you.”

The Voices Against Violence discussion with Philadelphia mayoral candidates will be held online on Wednesday, April 19 from noon to 1:30 p.m. (Philadelphia time). The event is free but you can register for it here on Eventbrite. In addition, you can join the conversation live on Facebook, in English at facebook.com/womenagainstabuse and in Spanish at youtube.com/@womenagainstabusePHL