El código civil

Shame and its consequences for victims are at least noted in most discussions of abuse. Some such as those published by Gill Hague, Audrey Mullender and Rosemary Aris foreground shame, emphasizing the power of this particular emotion state to shape and influence the experiences of abused women – even long after the abusive relationship has ended (Hague, 2005; Mullender & Hague, 2005; Aris et al, 2003). Indeed, few accounts of domestic abuse fail to note the sense of shame and self-blame reported by most victims of abuse (Edleson & Toman, 1992; Yllo & Bograd, 1988). Even though they cannot reasonably be considered to be responsible28, many women (including participants in this study) speak of feeling that the abuse was in some way 'their own fault'. Abuse is

therefore framed either as a direct result of some (shameful or shaming) failure on their part, or as something they could or should have avoided, either by changing their behavior or removing themselves from the abusive situation, or a combination of these strategies29.

In addition, not only do many victims consider themselves to be in some way at fault, and therefore shameful, they also believe that others would see the situation in a similar light. Most participants in the current study hid their experience (some for considerable periods of time) even from those people closest to them. That this can have powerful and

enduring effects upon the lives of women who have lived through abuse is a point explored in detail by Audrey Mullender and Gill Hague (2005) in describing the way abuse survivors who have moved on to work in the field of domestic violence often chose not to disclose their survivor status because they fear the stigmatization attached.

28_{Unless of course one subscribes to the notion advanced by some very early psychological explanations of domestic} violence in which the victim is masochistic and actively provokes and participates in her own abuse (some evidence suggests that some still do - i.e. 'she wanted it' defences in rape cases). This viewpoint has been thoroughly discredited in more recent times.

29 _{While many women reported that this viewpoint shifted over time, generally once removed from the abuse, all} experienced a sense of self-blame at least initially.

As participants in this project explained, many felt that they (and also their abuser) would be somehow diminished in the eyes of others if their status as a victim of abuse was revealed – a point illustrated in Heather’s self-questioning of what underlay her reluctance to seek support from her family.

I don’t know why I stuck up for [partner]. It was just that people would have thought I was stupid in the head or something (Heather).

For most women this was related to ideas that they 'should have known better', 'should have left sooner’, 'could have done better', or so on For instance, in this brief passage Lynette offers a harsh self-assessment as she recounts the ‘stupidity’ of her decision making processes around her relationship.

I think, “how did I put up with him for so long?” I should have, you know, “why did we come here? Why did I even marry him in the first place?” But, anyway, you have to go through these life experiences and try these things…if you’re stupid enough (Lynette).

The vast majority of these statements were presented as evidence of some psychological or emotional weakness or flaw on their part – some even going so far as to question their intelligence and/or mental health30, as demonstrated in Ruby’s harsh self-critique.

I’d never ever talked about it. I mean I don’t begrudge talking about it. But hell it’s made me really, now I can ponder over things that when I look at them now I think, “God I was crazy”…. it just sounds like I was the most stupidest bitch on two feet. I was. For putting up with it. I was mad. I was crazy (Ruby).

30 _{Audrey Mullender and Gill Hague (2005) discuss this point in terms of the barriers to service provision} involvement constructed by the attitudes of some domestic violence professionals who tend to see abused women as vulnerable and in need of protection, or even as incompetent to speak on the issue, until such time as they are deemed to be recovered or ‘outside the experience’.

As already noted, they also felt sure this would be an assessment others would share. As Paula comments,

I didn’t want her [sister] to know. Because, for some darn reason, I thought it was a reflection on me, that I chose him. And so I wasn’t, so I didn’t want her to think – oh you dick! What are you doing staying there? (Paula)

The resonance between these types of comments and Goffman's basic definition of stigma is unmistakable (Aris et al, 2003). So, if participants felt themselves to be seen as stigmatized – even if only potentially, what were the consequences of this?

As noted above, one of the most important issues to emerge was that participants tended to hide what was happening within their relationships, often with considerable effort and for long periods of time. They thus managed to effectively isolate themselves from potential sources of support. Paradoxically, while gaining protection from the shame of others knowing about the abuse, this strategy also provided optimal conditions for continued abuse. It should also be noted here though that in many cases these potential support systems were themselves complicit in this cover-up process, 'turning a blind eye' in an instance of what Goffman termed 'audience tact' (1959/1990). Some noted family, friends or medical personnel who seemed happy to ignore evidence or accept less than credible excuses.

What I don’t get is how my parents didn’t know about it. I mean if my daughter came home covered in the bruises that I had – the amount of doors I walked into! They didn’t think twice about it. Maybe they just didn’t want to know, I remember once I had like this massive bruise down one shoulder and my arm, and I went to the doctor and told him I’d been robbed outside an ATM machine. I mean how stupid is that? (April)

Within Goffman's framework these rationalizing, justifying and hiding strategies would be examples of what he termed the 'information game', whereby stigmatized individuals attempt to control/deny access to potentially discrediting information (1963/1990).

Stigma management: The information game

For many participants, this control of information was central to their experience of abuse. That some women went to considerable lengths to conceal what was happening within their relationship is most clearly illustrated by Anita’s description of one specific episode of information management.

I nearly got busted when the plant had a huge shut down and I worked as a tea-lady... and it was over that period that I had three black eyes in three weeks. And the first black eye, everyone said “Oh, what happened to you Anita?”, and I said “oh, look,” because by then I had shifted back into my Mum’s house…. And I said “oh at my Mum’s –because when you walk up her balcony and up to the back door step the window comes out. And she pushed it out to see who was coming,” and I explained it away…. And that hadn’t quite healed up and I had another black eye, but on the other side. And a friend who knew [partner] and his family said “he hit you, eh?” and I said, “No, he didn’t!” And I tried to explain it, and he said, “don’t lie to me Anita, he hit you eh?” and I said “It’s none of your business, and no he didn’t…” (Anita)

Information management strategies only remain effective however in regard to stigma (abuse) which is not readily apparent or already known to others - discreditable stigma, as opposed to the more discredited form. This difference creates some difficulties for the stigmatized individual who finds themselves in a position of having to wonder whether their stigma is immediately evident and/or already known about or not. If the former, it is then a matter of dealing with a discredited identity, whereas in the latter case the

individual instead faces managing a discreditable identity, both of which generally entail rather different interactional strategies (Goffman 1963/1990).

In the event of stigma becoming known - resulting in the individual becoming discredited (for instance if an abusive or violent event occurred in front of others), then the

information game becomes one of limiting damage or even attempting to reframe the event in less discreditable terms. Some women, such as Penny and Diane, explained the action as a 'one off' or out of character event, or attributed it to alcohol, drugs or stress.

My sister bailed me up one time and wanted to know if he was giving me the bash and I said “no, don’t be dumb, no-one’s going to smack me”. Some mate of hers had told her about him pushing me over at [local hotel] and I just said, like, told her he’d got pissed and had some dak [cannabis] and didn’t know what he was doing. Made out like it hadn’t happened again and it hadn’t sort of, not like that. I mean it just wasn’t like him (Penny).

I remember one time, it was, dad had dropped mum round home ‘cause he had a meeting or something so [husband] didn’t know she was there and he was just wild when he got home, like screaming at me the minute he walked in the door that night. She didn’t know he was like that but he stopped anyway and anyway later she said “what was that about? Does he hit you?” and I said “no”. Made up some excuse about how work was really bad and he’d just lost it a bit and he’d never done it before (Diane).

Similar actions were reported by many participants when speaking of the earlier stages of their relationships - illustrated again by Miriam’s account of the way in which she

justified her abusive partner’s violence.

He was a drinker. He used to take drugs. He often would do things in these states so again I could relate it back because when he was sober he very rarely did it. So I could kind of relate it back to the, you know, well that's how it is, you know, if

only he could stay sober. So I spent a lot of time supporting him, defending him (Miriam).

At the same time though, participants’ experiences of discredited and discreditable identities also shifted over time. Goffman presents these as quite discrete and largely unproblematic, suggesting that one is either discredited or discreditable and that either of these is either desirable or not – identifiable or not. Participants in this research talked about their identities (and identification) as abused women in a rather more ambiguous way which challenges Goffman’s either/or description. For instance many women noted that at times they had actively wished for some visible evidence of their stigmatized status, aware that help was far more likely to be forthcoming if their request was backed up by blood and/or bruising. Thus, for many women, possession of a discredited identity, while not in any way desirable, was in fact needed – even necessary, in order to

legitimize both their claims of abuse and appeals for assistance. This excerpt from Miriam, utilized earlier to demonstrate the power of models that privilege visible evidence of physical abuse and hierarchical understandings of abuse, also illustrates graphically the way an inability to prove possession of a discredited identity – in this case the bruises evidencing violence – works to inhibit access to support.

But there was a lot of times that I actually wished he'd hit me. I actually wished that I'd had the black eyes, because he was very good when he hurt me….I didn't, I didn't get all the bruising and there was a lot of times I wished I did. It's really hard to tell someone else, people at Social Welfare it was at the time, I'm being abused….because I didn't have any real evidence of it. To tell, [caseworker], I am being abused, I am being sexually abused, do you understand? My stomach is absolutely, I'm in agony because I had to spend the last, you know, twenty-four hours holding on to urine. I'm in agony with that. My hair, my head's really sore ‘cause I've been hauled around my house. I've been spat at. I feel like a big hunk of dirt. I'm being abused. But I didn't have any bruises. And it was so hard, it was so hard to tell friends. Even though they knew he was an arsehole - they were quite happy about labeling him an arsehole, but I wasn't being hit (Miriam).

As Miriam’s words suggest, simply claiming a position as ‘abused’ was insufficient – a point associated with what she described as a sort of ‘hierarchy’ in the domestic violence world, almost an ‘abuse ranking’, whereby it was hugely important to be able to display physical signs of violence.

I anticipated that I hadn't been physically beaten enough - bruise-wise. Because that’s kind of like the mark for a lot of people I actually think that…in hindsight, that physical abuse is, is a easier, if you're going, like if I chose to be abused - if I ever chose to be abused again, I would prefer to get hit. If I’d been hit, this might be easy to say in hindsight, I think I would have left earlier. I would have felt like I had credibility in the abuse world (Miriam).

Miriam’s use of the phrase “credibility in the abuse world” suggests that the distinction between discredited and discreditable rests upon boundaries between ‘worlds’ in which it is credibility that is still at stake. In the ‘normal’ (non-abuse) world one might be

discredited through an identity as an abuse victim, but to creditably take up an identity as a victim within the ‘abuse world’ requires specific markers of entitlement to that identity. Without these markers a woman risks being discreditable as a victim and Miriam

articulates this clearly.

Others spoke though of how even clear and entirely overt displays of their unmistakably discredited identity as victims of abuse were not sufficient; claiming (and naming) of victim status, accompanied by active help seeking was seemingly also required. Many women for instance spoke of how visible injuries or the witnessing of abusive incidents were sometimes of little benefit, resulting in absolutely no intervention. Ruby, April and Laura speak here of violent assaults occurring in front of multiple witnesses – none of whom intervened.

And I went to leave the nightclub and just at the top of the stairs, he hit me, and I went down thirty or forty steps. Then when I got outside he gave me more. And

there were lots of people around. No on ever stepped in. No one did anything. And I had blood pouring in all directions, I’d put my arm through a glass door too. But yeah, nobody worried (Ruby).

We were at his cousin’s place, and I went to the toilet and he just whacked me across the head and I just fell to the floor and he got his gumboot and proceeded to beat the shit out of me. And I can’t describe the words as to how I felt. And in the meantime, everyone who was there knew what was going on, but no one got up and came to help (April).

He used to have a motorbike, and had the shed out the back and we were always in the shed tinkering with the motorbike and one day he turned on me outside and he had me on the ground and he had me by the hair each side and he was just belting my head on the concrete…on and on and on and I was just screaming and asking someone come and help me. And apparently they just got up and turned the telly up so they couldn’t hear me. That’s really ugly isn’t it? Yeah, and they, the time I said that his mum couldn’t wait to tell him that I’d told her to get lost or whatever, that day she stood there and watched him while he smacked me. And she, yeah, they just stood there and watched and they very seldom intervened. One or twice his dad, I know his dad did sort of say, that’s no way to treat a woman, but his answer to it was to walk out of the house (Laura).

For these women accessing support or protection from this violence perhaps required that they explicitly label these events as abusive, claim their status as victims and actively seek intervention from bystanders. Their failure to do so may be related to the fact that in spite of their sometimes ambiguous and shifting descriptions of the specific ways in which their identities as victims of abuse played out on a day-to-day level, all participants displayed an awareness of the shame and stigma attached to these identities by others (Aris et al, 2003 & Mullender & Hague, 2005). As a result, most continued to hide or camouflage their positioning as they went about their everyday lives in attempts to stave off the associated shame or embarrassment – as the accounts below illustrate.

No, I didn’t [tell anyone]. It never crossed my mind. I suppose I was too embarrassed, really embarrassed about it. I know that at one stage, one of the hidings that I got here, I mean…he was threatening to attack me with a hammer and I thought ‘I‘m going to ring the police’ and then I thought, ‘no, I can’t ring the police, I might know somebody, they might know me and then I’m going to be really embarrassed’ so no, I never ever went to the authorities or cried for help…because I was embarrassed (Angie).

I had no family support, I couldn’t tell any of my Scottish friends what was going