After years of emotional abuse, even a resumé is a tough task
Credit to Author: Cheryl Chan| Date: Sun, 25 Aug 2019 05:43:06 +0000
Reava recoiled at the thought of writing a resumé.
To the 44-year-old mother of three, a resumé wasn’t just a document detailing her work history or career accomplishments. It was a record of perceived failures and flaws confirmed in ink.
“I remember one time (they) said we are going to make resumés, and I said ‘oh no, I am not going to make a resumé,” recalled Reava. “I have nothing to put on a resumé.”
Battered from a six-year relationship marked with physical and emotional abuse, Reava’s self-confidence remained at a low, even though that relationship ended 16 years ago.
The regular gaslighting by her ex had made her doubt reality, question her instincts, and retreat from her family, friends and society.
Drug addiction followed the abuse. Six years ago, determined to get clean, she left her home on Vancouver Island to seek treatment in Abbotsford. She got clean for 18 months, relapsed and became homeless, before fighting her way back again.
Today, Reava is five years clean and sober. Still, the pernicious whispers from her ex lingered in her head every time she thought about putting herself out there to get a job. She thinks: “Why would a place want to hire somebody like me? What do I have to offer?”
Postmedia is withholding Reava’s last name.
Her story is not unique among women who have experienced violence and abuse and highlights the need for employment programs specifically aimed to support survivors of violence.
Reports of sexual offences have risen in Vancouver every year between 2011 and 2018, despite the overall rate of violent crime dropping. In B.C., the number of sexual assaults reported to police jumped 15 per cent between 2016 and 2017, mirroring a national trend.
Across Canada, domestic violence, also called “intimate partner violence,” is the most common form of violence against women, affecting 45 per cent of all female victims aged 15-89.
The violence doesn’t only cause physical injuries but affects the emotional, mental, social and economic health of victims. Long-term consequences could include hindering the victim’s ability to study, work or gain employment.
For Reava, the abuse and gaslighting had chipped away at her self-esteem and confidence. Even just hearing the word “work” triggered her ex’s voice and feelings of shame, guilt and inadequacy.
When the support worker in recovery program told her about an employment program geared toward survivors of violence offered by the YWCA Metro Vancouver, she was reluctant.
“I really pushed hard against that, not wanting to go. Bt when I did, it was really amazing,” Reava said outside her Vancouver apartment.
It was during the program that Reava learned she has plenty of skills to offer: She ran a household. She raised three boys. She has mechanical skills and is a natural nurturer.
With encouragement and support from program facilitator, Titi Adebanjo, Reava wrote that resumé.
“I was floored when we printed it off,” said Reava, still beaming at the memory. “It was like I actually have something in my life that I can contribute, and that’s amazing.”
When she saw a online posting for a job at a program run by the Chrysalis Society for women struggling with addiction, violence and homelessness — the same society that had provided her with second-stage housing during her recovery — Reava made a phone call, something the old Reava would have been too timid or too scared to do, she said.
After years in an abusive relationship and addictions, Reava is now thriving at her new job.
She started work in April as a part-time support care worker and loves her job.
Adebanjo, manager of the survivors-of-violence programs at the YWCA Metro Vancouver, said there is a great need for employment services for this often-overlooked group of people.
That’s why the YWCA is launching a stand-alone program in September called Survive to Thrive. It will operate out of the YWCA’s facility in Coquitlam to serve women in the Lower Mainland.
Funding is provided by the federal government through the Canada-B.C. Workforce Development Agreement.
The B.C. Ministry of Advanced Education, through WorkBC, also offers specialized employment programs for survivors of violence across the province.
These programs offer specific services for survivors most employment agencies overlook, such as safety and confidentiality, resilience, and dignity-building, and trauma-informed practices. Participants have a range of backgrounds and may have different needs, said Adebanjo. Some may not have finished their education or have been out of the workforce for a long time, while others are highly-educated with a long employment history.
Despite the differences in background and experience, what women have in common is the effect of the violence and abuse, which often manifests itself as lack of self-confidence or self-esteem, self-doubt, fear of judgment, and feelings of isolation and shame and self-blame.
Simply being told “to get a job” doesn’t help. It takes work to build up the women’s self-confidence and get rid of the negative feedback loop many are stuck in. But it is something that can be unlearned.
“It just shows that words do have power,” said Adebanjo. “And as much as words can tear someone down, words can also build up and restore.”
One of the key pieces in the program is “normalizing” these experiences so the women learn they’re not crazy or at fault, she said.
The program then helps women discover their skills and strengths through coaching sessions, career exploration and assessment, and helps them formulate a goal or plan, before moving onto employment skills such as resumé and cover-letter writing, workplace behaviour skills, job search, and networking — all done through the lens of violence- and trauma-informed practice.
Ann-Marie, 56, credits the program with changing her life.
Ann-Marie at the YWCA Metro Vancouver offices in downtown Vancouver in August.
At 15, she fled Nova Scotia after experiencing sexual abuse at the hands of a family member. Her earliest memory of the abuse was at age five.
She came to Vancouver, worked dead-end jobs that paid the bills, but did not escape violence: A man she was dating held a gun to her head, and she was sexually assaulted twice. Postmedia is not publishing her last name.
What kept her going, said Ann-Marie, was faith in God and the desire to build a better life for her son.
She took adult education classes in North Vancouver to get her G.E.D., then started a business administration program at Capilano College. She also attended counselling to try to quell nightmares, tame triggers and silence her abuser’s voice in her head.
“(He) has always told me I would never amount to anything, that I would always be a failure, so that’s always here,” Ann-Marie said, motioning to her head and heart. “So when you’re fighting to counteract that and keep going, it’s hard.”
What made a big difference was meeting Adebanjo, whose encouragement and faith in her eventually built up her own confidence and drive.
During dark moments, it was Adebanjo who refused to let her give up. And even though she still hears her abuser’s voice in her head, she also hears Adebanjo’s, telling her she is worthy.
“Finally, someone got through to me enough,” said an emotional Ann-Marie during the interview at the YWCA offices in downtown Vancouver. “She gave me more power than I needed. She kept me strong, so I kept going and I didn’t give up and then I eventually got the job that I wanted.”
Ann-Marie works as an administrator and property manager at her building, and is busy channelling all her energy into overseeing the renovation of the building’s spaces and units.
“Without this program, I wouldn’t be here where I am right now,” she said.
Before, she kept her head down, merely trying to survive. Now she realizes that surviving is an accomplishment. As a middle-aged woman, she feels as though she’s in her 20’s and the world is bursting with promise.
“This must be what it must have been like for those girls going through school, getting out and graduating and getting into college … what they must have felt when they graduated and started looking ahead,” said Ann-Marie. “I never had any of that.”
Adebanjo, who has been working with survivors for 20 years, credits the women in survivors-of-violence employment programs who work hard to reclaim their careers and lives.
“It’s rewarding to get to be part of that,” she said. “We get people from all walks of life and different age groups and ethnicities, and the knowledge that comes into the room from their stories, experiences, passions, and career interests — it is also their knowledge and wisdom I get to witness.”
She describes the transformations she witnesses from the nervousness and self-doubt exhibited by women in the initial meetings to the confidence, self-assurance and stronger sense of self on display by the time the program ends.
That starts with the first tentative phone call or apprehensive email to the program — something that already takes a lot of courage, she said.
“I always feel like I wish I can show them what the future is going to look like right from the very beginning,” she said.