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116116Plague

Spousal abuse is emerging
from the veil of denial in the Jewish community.

KERI GUTEN COHEN Special to The Jewish News

IV

hen he hit her on Rosh
Hashanah, she took it as a
sign from God to leave
her abusive marriage. She
started calling attorneys the next day.
But that bold step had taken several
years.
"It was very embarrassing. I was
raised in Detroit and I knew everybody
in the Jewish community," says- Judy,
then a member of a local Refori4 tern-
ple. "I was so ashamed my husba\id was;
'
hitting me. I kept thinking I'll wait
until my baby is born, until he's out of
diapers. You just don't want to leave-,..
you want that family, you want that `,
dream to come true."
,
At first, Judy's relationship was idyl-s
lic.
"I thought he was everything I ever
wanted in a man, my Prince
Charming," she says. "He swept me off
my feet. We had a lot of fun together. I
looked at him as a wounded puppy.. If I
just loved him the right way he could
love me back.
"But when things were bad, they
couldn't be worse. He went from an
adoring husband who felt lucky to have
me to telling me I was a whore who
conned him into marrying me. He
could change in the blink of an eye."
That Jekyll/Hyde personality is part
of a typical cycle for abusers, experts say.
It usually starts with the "honeymoon"

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phase, filled with generosity and love,
then drifts without warning into the
"tension-building" phase where the fam-
ily knows to step lightly, then into the
"explosive" phase when violent abuse
occurs.
Then the cycle begins again, with the
family on a constant emotional roller
coaster.
:Domestic violence is about power
and control, says Ellen Yashinsky, direc-
tor of the Windows prevention and
intervention program of Jewish Family
Service (JFS). In most cases, family
members operate around the man's
needs. The abuser expects everyone to
change their behavior so he won't have
to react violently. The wife has no con-
trol over it, nor is it her fault. In most
cases, the abuser is acting out a learned
behavior and reacting to his own lack of
self-esteem.
Judy suffered verbal abuse from her
husband on a regular basis. Physical bat-
tering became more and more frequent
the longer they stayed married. In front
of his shocked parents, he gave her a
black eye when she was six months
pregnant.
"I knew I had to get out; I refuse to
live my life in fear," says Judy, 39, who
gave up considerable wealth and social
status to leave her husband. "I'll be
damned if I'll raise my son to repeat his
father's behavior."
Not wanting to associate with a

Jewish agency because of the shanda, or
shame factor, Judy sought help at
HAVEN in Pontiac, a prevention and
treatment center for domestic violence.
There, she says, she met plenty of other
Jewish women.
That was about five years ago, when
domestic violence among Jews was still
in the closet. Though Jewish households
keep pace with the general population,
experiencing some sort of domestic vio-
lence in one out of five families, little
about the problem was discussed pub-
licly.
Professional after professional in sub-
urban Detroit tell similar stories about
community denial.
The myth that "Jewish men make
the most nurturing husbands" persist-
ed. Rabbis would shrug and say,
"What problem? Not in my congrega-
tion." Uninformed, some would coun-
sel women "to be better wives," then
send them back into the maelstrom.
Agencies would hold clergy training
seminars and maybe one rabbi would
show up.
Now you'd get much more than a
minyan. Domestic violence among Jews
has become a hot topic. You hear it dis-
cussed on the "Jewish Hour" on radio;
you can see posters with crisis line infor-
mation on the back of toilet stall doors
in area synagogues; you learn the
Council of Orthodox Rabbis is helping
abuse victims obtain a get, Jewish writ of