AS A survivor of domestic abuse, Penelope* wants to ensure that how the intersection of race and gender impacts Black women is never lost in the fight to end violence against women and girls.

The police and specialist agencies supporting domestic abuse survivors are being challenged to implement cultural awareness training through Valerie’s Law, something that Penelope believes is more important now than ever.

In 2014, on a night out in south London, Penelope would go on to meet her now ex-partner who would become the father of her first child.

Her ex, a white man, had a “type” with all his previous partners having been Black women, just like her. She says that race was always a part of their relationship, but she wouldn’t realise it till much later.

“I feel he sought me out because he thought he’d be able to control me, that somehow because I’m a Black woman I might have had low self-esteem.

“The way Black women are depicted in society and especially in the media, he saw me as an opportunity to take advantage of that situation and those stereotypes,” she tells The Voice.

“There is this masculinisation of Black women and a stereotype that Black women are always angry so agency workers might not understand that someone is going through mental health issues because of this domestic violence.”

“It wasn’t just about the relationship, it’s very much about what he could get out of it. He viewed me as someone with assets that he essentially wanted to get his hands on.

“He lived beyond his means constantly and needed someone to help support and fund that lifestyle, for example he asked me to lend him money to buy a car, even though he already owned more than one car.”

In the early stages of their relationship, the mother-of-one recalls how she was frequently ‘love bombed’, told how much he was in love with her, and had a “pre-mediated” approach that eventually saw him move in with her. Penelope says that’s when the abuse took a violent turn.

“It was moving away from all the love bombing. Things that he would do were have crazy outbursts of rage, breaking your stuff, he smashed my wardrobe with his mobile phone,” she says.

“There were always threats to knock me into the middle of next week…basically a threat to kill somebody.”

Penelope was subject to what she calls extreme name-calling, where he regularly referred to her as a c**t, and once pushed her so hard she cracked her head on a table.

“After I had my daughter, I had a Caesarean section and basically it was maybe three days after she was born. He rugby tackled me because I was cleaning the kitchen with the wrong sponge.”

Looking back on her ordeal, Penelope says that her ex-partner definitely made race a part of the abuse, but only now realises the nuances.

“He used to mock me and call me this ‘independent Black woman’. So, for him race absolutely played a part. But, not being ashamed of my race or not having an issue with it, I just thought nothing of it, because I am independent. And I am strong. Racism was always a part of it, but I didn’t know it yet.”

Savannah Fuller, who works closely with domestic abuse survivors at Sistah Space, tells The Voice that Black women often deal with this “double oppression” in the abuse they suffer and from the responses of those meant to protect them.

“There is this masculinisation of Black women. It’s not just the physical things, you might not notice that my skin’s bruised, you might have a stereotype or prejudice that Black women are always angry or agitated,” she explains.

“So, [agency workers] might not understand that someone might be going through mental health issues because of this domestic violence.

“There’s also a general institutionalised stereotype that Black women or Black people in general can handle a lot of pain, and that their pain might not be as severe as someone else.”

Earlier this year, the Casey Review only affirmed this stark reality when the Met was branded as institutionally racist and sexist; over policing and under-protecting Black people, and failing countless women who were victims of abuse.

CONCERNS

Before she went to court, Penelope admits that she found the police involvement at first “reasonably helpful,” but things took a turn for the worse when her ex-partner chose to use their daughter as a “pawn in his own game” after she raised concerns about her welfare while in his care.

On the advice of her doctors, they told her to get out.

“He actively went to the police and told them that I was harassing him because I sent him a series of emails concerned with his neglect of the child we share. Her teeth hadn’t been brushed, and she was crying because she hadn’t eaten. So, it was a welfare issue,” she says.

Once the police were aware she was in a mixed-race relationship, Penelope says they refused to investigate the complaint and she was left with the allegation on her file till this day.

They even went as far as to claim that the countless incidents of abuse she reported were untrue, until the court dismissed their argument.

Throughout the court process, she recalls how the defence frequently made her out to be “resilient enough” or that she felt she had to live up to notions of being the “perfect victim”.

She says: “When we broke up, he [her ex-partner] used my race against me at every single opportunity… everything was about race, [during the court process] without actually bringing up my race.”

According to Victim Support, around 48 per cent of Black and ethnic minority victims who reported domestic abuse to the police felt they were treated differently compared to other victims because of their ethnicity.

In February 2022, The Voice reported that police forces charged alleged perpetrators in 6.7 per cent of cases where the domestic violence victim was White compared to just 5.5 per cent where the victim was Black.

In the UK, there are fewer than 30 specialist refuges by and for Black and minoritised women, leaving a considerable gap in the way that racial trauma is dealt with by trained professionals.

OVERHAUL

Fuller believes that there needs to be a complete overhaul of responses from organisations meant to protect Black women who experience domestic abuse from the police, criminal justice system and specialist agencies.

The Voice is supporting the Valerie’s Law campaign by Sistah Space to make it mandatory for government bodies and support agencies to undertake cultural awareness training geared towards the needs of Black abuse survivors.

Whilst campaigning for the historic legislation, Sistah Space are still offering their specialist training throughout the UK.

“As much as we work with Black women, Black women are just people, so if you are a domestic violence charity, you should be able to do your due diligence with a client who is a Black woman who may need specific care,” explains Fuller.

“They are important [Black-focused domestic abuse agencies] because it’s the comfortability and awareness that we’re listening to them, and that they don’t need to explain the racial trauma, or they don’t have to go into depth on why they think certain things are off.”

Fuller says training domestic abuse services to understand the specific needs of Black women could begin with how to interact with the police to have the right products for Afro hair in refuges, and refuges being in multicultural areas.

SCEPTICAL

Now in the post domestic abuse phase, which usually focuses on litigation abuse and financial abuse, Penelope has been supported by domestic abuse charity Refuge. She says the agencies she did turn to in the aftermath of the abuse didn’t know how to deal with complexities of her racial trauma, but is sceptical of progress being made amid “anti-woke sentiments”.

“There’s always someone saying not all policemen, not all men are abusive, not all women are this, but there is never, ever anyone to say not all Black women are aggressive,” she says.

“We can say, there needs to be training, there needs to be anti-bias training. But if the white person who’s delivering this anti-bias training is worried about whether their children are going to have a job, they’re not going to promote it.”

A 2022 report by the Domestic Abuse Commissioner showed 78 per cent of Black and minoritised survivors felt safer when they had accessed service run by and for their ethnic group.

However, these organisations are six times more likely to not receive any statutory funding than other types of specialist VAWG groups.

Nicole Jacobs, the Domestic Abuse Commissioner for England and Wales, tells The Voice they are introducing plans to not just train professionals in the sector, but also ensure they are funded enough to thrive.

“My office is developing a proposal for the Government to create a funding pot for ‘By and For’ organisations. This funding would help build capacity in ‘By and For’ organisations, providing vital support to Black and minoritised survivors who often face severe barriers in accessing services,” she says.

“We also know that many survivors with no recourse to public funds (NRPF), who specialist ‘By and For’ organisations often support, will not report their experiences to the police because they are frightened that their information will be shared with immigration enforcement.

“I strongly advocate for a firewall to be established between the police and immigration enforcement to enable survivors with NRPF to safely report domestic abuse.

“My office continues to push for this firewall to be introduced in the Victims and Prisoners Bill.”

She added: “The tragic case of Valerie Forde is indicative of the experiences that many Black victims and survivors face when they try to disclose domestic abuse to the police.

“This is why it is so critical that police have training to understand the nuances of the experiences of Black victims and survivors of domestic abuse, and we thank Sistah Space for their tireless campaigning for Valerie’s Law.”

* Name changed to protect identity

• Specialist support and information about domestic and sexual violence is available from these organisations in the UK. Sistah Space can be contacted at 0207 846 8350 and Refuge can be contacted on 0808 2000 247.