Battered Immigrant Women Find Sanctuary

By ANNETTE KONDO

June 17, 2001 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

When her husband had sex with her, Thuy says, it was with a knife at her throat, whispering threats in her ear. Once he struck her face so viciously that crimson drops stained her clothes.

The man had bought Thuy for $200 from her family in a Vietnamese village. He brought her to the United States and said he would take care of her immigration papers. But when he deserted her, Thuy found herself in bureaucratic purgatory.

Now, she fears she will be deported, according to her attorney.

Thuy’s story is shared by many newly arrived immigrant woman who become victims of domestic violence and are buffeted by two cycles of fear, experts say.

First, they endure the physical and emotional abuse from their partners. Lack of language skills deters many from calling the police. Others suffer silently because reporting such injustices is taboo, bringing shame and dishonor to their families.

When they do summon the resolve to seek justice, many learn that their partners have lied about their immigration status, and they are tossed into a legal whirlpool.

Today, changes in federal law give immigrant partners greater opportunities to stay, and more agencies offer emotional support and practical assistance.

Last month, largely through serendipity, the 26-year-old Thuy, which is not her real name, wound up in the offices of the Asian Pacific American Legal Center in Los Angeles.

Thuy recounted how her husband, who is 30 years older, demanded that she sign some papers. After six hellish months, she had married and then, unknowingly, divorced her abuser--making her ineligible to apply for legal residency under former U.S. laws.

But changes made last year to the 1994 federal Violence Against Women Act allow abused immigrant spouses a two-year window after a divorce to petition for permanent residence. Under the old law, a divorced non-citizen spouse like Thuy could not independently apply for a green card.

“[Thuy’s] situation is exactly what this law is meant to help,” said Elizabeth Chatham, one of the center’s attorneys. Thuy now has a chance to apply for a green card, even though she is divorced.

The center received a $268,000 grant in October from the U.S. Department of Justice to assist women like Thuy. She is gaining independence, Chatham said, and wants to make a go of it here.

Immigrant domestic violence victims often dream of escaping the tyranny of abusive relationships, yet remain married because of cultural biases and unfamiliarity with their rights in the U.S., experts say.

Some come from cultures where the police are corrupt or don’t oversee such matters. Crime statistics, advocates said, barely skim the surface of the problem.

The number of spousal abuse cases involving limited English- or non-English-speaking victims is increasing, but the Los Angeles Police Department does not collect data about immigration status, said Det. Pat Barron, the LAPD’s domestic violence coordinator. A new computer system may make it possible to track victims whose primary language is not English, Barron said.

In many Asian countries, one never speaks publicly about conflicts in the home, and seeking help at a shelter or program is rare, said Yuka Takeuchi, a program coordinator for the Pacific Asian Transitional Housing Program in Los Angeles, a year-old program that shelters abused spouses and families.

The culture of sacrifice, coupled with Asian values that bestow power on males, is slow to change.

Non-Asian cultures also keep family violence closeted from authorities, experts say.

Rise in Calls From Armenians

The Domestic Violence Crisis Hotline has operated from Glendale for two decades, serving mostly English- and Spanish-speaking clients. But the hotline and an affiliated women’s services center have seen a steady rise in Armenian clients, as these new arrivals settle in Glendale.

Armenian victims have difficulty seeking counseling for private matters, especially a spousal relationship, said Consuelo Lopez, director of community services for the Domestic Violence Project in Glendale. In Armenia, there is a huge mistrust of authority, and counselors here are working hard to forge ties between the newcomers and the police, Lopez said.

She said a recent nine-month survey by the domestic violence unit of the Glendale Police Department reviewed 94 cases and found the largest group of victims (44%) were Latino, followed by Armenians (21%), other whites (19%), and other races/ethnicities (14%).

In 1998, when the violence project started a counseling group for Armenian-speakers, about six women victims took part. Today, Lopez said, at least 20 women participate.

Yet other immigrants are still reluctant to come forward with their stories, police, lawyers and other experts said.

Two years ago, Russian-speaking counselors and volunteers in Los Angeles organized a hotline to help spousal abuse victims who moved here from the former Soviet republics. But last year, the number was disconnected because it was rarely used.

Lina Kaplan, a Moscow native and Los Angeles psychologist who works on a Russian family violence project for Jewish Family Services, said family matters were kept private in the former Soviet republics.

Broaching the topic of spousal abuse could invite scrutiny by authorities, who could make life even more miserable, Kaplan said. “You don’t trust the system when you are being raised under a totalitarian regime,” she said.

Last year’s changes to the Violence Against Women Act also lifted a requirement that spouses prove they would suffer “extreme hardship” if deported, lawyers said. Removing this condition makes it easier to remain in this country, because they don’t have to show they could be persecuted or suffer greater potential harm if returned home, immigration experts said.

Although stronger federal laws should help, lawyers and advocates say overcoming cultural stigmas and fears is still an immense struggle for these women.

“Even though there are changes to law, women still live in fear,” said Anne Dunn, assistant executive director of the Los Angeles Commission on the Status of Women. “It’s frustrating that we can’t be of more assistance to them.”

Divorce American-style is often open combat between spouses over custody, child support, alimony and houses. That’s not the case in many other parts of the world.

Happy Ending for Indian Woman

For Aisha, the journey to the United States began with promise. She left India to follow her beloved to Los Angeles. But once here, she said she was subjected to physical and emotional abuse.

When it became too much to bear, Aisha twice sought refuge in India, taking her infant daughter. But her husband refused to send child support, and Aisha decided she had to return to the U.S.

Throughout her abuse, Aisha, who didn’t want her real name used, felt driven by her strong Muslim beliefs to be a dutiful wife. Her faith esteems marriage for life.

“You are told to stay in the marriage and you go to your husband’s house,” she said of her nuptials. “And when you leave, you will be brought out in a coffin.”

Aisha was studying physics in India when she quit college to marry her India-born fiance, who had lived and worked in the U.S. for years. She moved with his parents and three other relatives into a two-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles. They filled her days, she says, with emotional and physical abuse.

Then Aisha learned of the South Asian Helpline and Referral Agency in Little India, an Artesia neighborhood of Indian businesses, temples and restaurants.

SAHARA (Hindi for “support”) is Aisha’s surrogate family, legal advisor, job counselor and confidant.

With the large increase in South Asian immigrants, many of them high-tech workers, the agency expects to help many more women like Aisha, said Sheela Mehta, board president of the South Asian agency. So far this year, there have been nine new domestic violence cases; there were nine during the course of the entire year 2000.

Aisha now has a good job, her U.S. divorce is final and she says she is hopeful her Muslim divorce will be approved.

“I was like a bird with cut wings,” she recalled of her marriage. “I felt like killing myself several times.”

For all her strides forward, Aisha is bittersweet about her independence.

“I would always want a woman and man to build a happy home together. I believe whenever you get married, you never think of getting broken apart,” she said. “Whenever we pray to Allah, we say, ‘Whoever is married, keep them happy. And if they are unmarried, get them into a happy pair.’ ”

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

Seeking Help

Some resources that help domestic violence victims:

Domestic Violence Crisis Hotline in English and Spanish

(818) 242-1106

Center for the Pacific Asian Family

(323) 653-4042

Crisis hotline in English and Asian languages

Family Violence Project-- Jewish Family Services

(818) 505-0900

Crisis hotline, community services in English, Russian and Spanish

SAHARA