In North Philly, Congreso de Latinos Unidos has spent five decades being ‘here for you’ | Philly Gives

The litany of horrors never stopped:

For more than an hour, one domestic violence survivor after another stepped up to the microphone with tales of pain and resilience.

“When people get close to me, I flinch because I’m afraid they are going to abuse me,” said one woman, speaking in Spanish, her words translated into English by a staffer at Congreso de Latinos Unidos, a nonprofit social services agency in North Philadelphia that provides help with housing, education, medical needs, workforce training, and after-school activities for youngsters.

Congreso is celebrating its 48th year in operation, and for 30 of those years, it has maintained a program to support people dealing with, and trying to escape from, domestic violence.

“I was never allowed to go outside. He would show up at my job,” the woman continued in a room decorated with purple balloons, the color symbolizing domestic violence. Each year, Congreso honors survivors and mourns, in a few moments of poignant silence, the people who lost their lives to domestic violence. Last year, in Pennsylvania, there were 102.

“He would bruise my face so I couldn’t see my family. I worked in a nightclub, and he would drag me out … No one wanted to get involved,” she said.

No one, until Congreso did and helped relocate her to a new home.

“It takes a lot of courage to come up here and share your story,” Ramona Peralta, Congreso’s director of family wellness, said as the woman finished speaking. “We’re very proud of you, and we are here for you all the way.”

In the main room, the mood vacillated between the heavy silence of shared pain and the cheerful clamoring of babies. Later, there was music, and before, a friendly lunch of rice with pork and chicken.

Across the hall, members of the Asociación de Cosmetologas de Pennsylvania offered free hairstyling to the women who attended the celebration.

Congreso, as part of its program to teach police, educators, social workers, and others to recognize signs of domestic abuse, had trained this group, as well, and because of the intimacy of their work, the stylists were uniquely positioned to do so. More than most, beauty salon operators could readily see the bruises hidden under hair and makeup. They could feel the cuts and scars on the scalp. And then there were the confidences confessed during shampoos and stylings.

Among the volunteers was Wanda Gómez, owner of the Blessings of God beauty salon in Northeast Philadelphia. “Thank God, I’m no longer in that situation,” she said, speaking through a translator. But because she survived domestic violence, she said she’s in a better position to help others. She tells them about Congreso.

Elisa Zaro Doran, owner of Dominican Divas Beauty Salon in Olney, twisted a strand of hair around a curling iron as she styled Maria Rodriguez’s long, dark hair. Like Gómez, Doran survived domestic abuse. “The first time, when he hit me, we were having a lot of problems, so I thought it was normal,” Doran said.

He’d even come into her beauty salon and hit her. “My clients would try to defend me,” she said. Eventually, when her son tried to protect her, she knew she had to take the necessary steps to get away and be safe — for herself and her children.

Rodriguez was there yesterday to support her daughter, who survived domestic violence, but still lives in fear — which is the reason she would only agree to be interviewed if her name was not used. “He told me that it doesn’t matter how many years — he will come and burn down my house with me in it,” she said.

Rodriguez’s daughter turned to Congreso for help after Thanksgiving a few years ago. Her oldest son told her that day that he would no longer live with her, because every night he dreamed of killing his father. He couldn’t stay and watch the beatings or watch his father, in a rage, destroy the furniture in their home.

“I don’t know how many dining room tables I bought,” the daughter said.

On that Thanksgiving, she told her husband he had to leave. It was the end of the relationship, but the beginning of a new nightmare. He followed her to work and even stood in the pharmacy, watching her as she managed the office.

Counseling at Congreso helped her name her situation for what it was — abuse. “They made me see that I was in danger,” and that what she thought was normal was anything but. In group sessions, she learned a critical lesson: “I understood that I wasn’t the only one. They made me know it wasn’t my fault.”

She’s still afraid to leave her home. “I’m going through anxiety, PTSD. It still affects me.”

Besides housing, education, and medical needs, Congreso maintains a program to support people dealing with, and trying to escape from, domestic violence.

As she watched her mother get her hair styled, Rodriguez’s daughter hoped her mother would absorb a lesson from the stories she would hear. The daughter wanted her mother to understand the intergenerational legacy of abuse because she believes her mother also suffered from domestic violence.

That abuse, Rodriguez’s daughter believes, impacted both her and her sister, whose abuser stopped hitting her only when he thought she was dead. She teaches her sister lessons learned from counseling at Congreso. Counseling includes helping women develop a safety plan.

Rodriguez’s daughter brings her own little girl, 13, to Congreso’s counseling groups for children impacted by domestic violence. “I’m saving my sister’s life, and I’m saving my daughter’s life,” she said. As for her sons, “I’m not raising abusers,” as she reminds them to respect their girlfriends.

Last month’s celebration in honor of the survivors of domestic abuse took center stage that day at Congreso, but Congreso’s programming benefits many more people in the community, 75% of whom are Latino, said Jannette Diaz, president and chief executive.

Diaz grew up a few blocks from Congreso, and her father relied on the nonprofit for help with the family’s utility bills.

These days, she spends time working on strengthening relationships with fellow nonprofit agencies and with Congreso’s friends in the donor community.

“We’re all feeling the crunch,” Diaz said, describing a double whammy in mid-October of the state’s failure to pass a budget as the national government moved into another week of shutdown. Congreso gets much of its funding from government reimbursements for services provided.

At Congreso, “we’re very mindful of our spending. So far, we’re continuing to provide services at 100%, but there’s only so much we can do, tapping into our reserves and our line of credit.”

“Sometimes it’s heavy, but I’m also hopeful,” Diaz said, explaining that the twin state and federal budget crises required a sharper focus even as demand for services increases. Changes in Medicaid regulations may impact finances at Congreso’s health center, for example.

But, she said, donors can be confident their dollars are being spent wisely.

Why? Because as nonprofits come and go, Congreso has survived, thanks to providing trauma-informed and culturally responsive services that are informed by data to its clients, Diaz said.

“We’ve been around for 48 years, and there’s a reason for that. And that is how we operate within our community,” she said. “We forge a trusting relationship, and we try our best to do what they need. It’s important that we make sure our programs have impact.”

And that impact, Diaz said, goes beyond help given directly to clients. When Congreso assists a first-time home buyer in qualifying for and landing a mortgage, that homeowner becomes a Philadelphia taxpayer, benefiting the community.

When someone like Gary DeJesus-Walker earns a CDL truck-driving license through Congreso’s workforce training program, he can go on to build a trucking business. Now he employs three people.

“Congreso — they changed my life,” he said. “From trucking, I started two other companies.” With Congreso’s CDL program, “if you need a second chance, you can have one for the rest of your life. This is a way you can provide for and feed your family, forever.”

The stories are an inspiration to Diaz.

“Even in this season,” she said, “we can strategize and design services that our community needs. We’re not paralyzed by this crisis, and in terms of moving the needle forward, we’re progressing.”

This article is part of a series about Philly Gives — a community fund to support nonprofits through end-of-year giving. To learn more about Philly Gives, including how to donate, visit phillygives.org.

Mission: To enable individuals and families in predominantly Latino neighborhoods to achieve economic self-sufficiency and well-being.

People served: 13,435 unique clients served in fiscal year 2025.

Annual Spending: $30 million

Point of Pride: Trademarked Primary Client Model that drives Congreso’s bilingual and bicultural approach to delivering services in a client-centered, data-informed, and culturally responsive way, whether a community member is receiving support in education, workforce development, housing, health, or family services.

You can help: Become a monthly donor, a member of Congreso’s Corporate Advisory Council, or a volunteer in the Congreso Cares Program. Volunteers help with participating in program initiatives like Congreso’s free tax preparation, supporting program and agency events, and assisting with fundraising.

Support: phillygives.org

To get help:

866-723-3014 (Philadelphia Domestic Violence Hotline)

215-763-8870 (Congreso)