Fierce Grace Advocacy

Last week, I explored public speaking as a tool for victim advocacy and confronted my complicated feelings about sharing my own story of intimate partner violence publicly. This week in my journey toward becoming a certified victim advocate, I’m taking that exploration a step further: activism.

As someone with a legal background, this week felt like coming home. I understand how policy shapes the systems victims must navigate—I’ve seen firsthand how a single law or court rule can either protect victims or retraumatize them. The difference between public speaking and activism, I’m learning, is the difference between raising awareness and demanding action.

What Is Activism in Victim Services?

The training opened with a straightforward definition: activism is the practice of using action to achieve political or social goals. It’s about creating change through deliberate, strategic efforts that target the systems, policies, and cultural attitudes that affect victims.

In the victim services field, activism often seeks to affect lawmaking at the local, state, or federal level and is a part of public policy. But activism extends beyond legislation—it encompasses advocacy for new policies within institutions, organizing community awareness campaigns, challenging harmful cultural narratives, fighting for increased funding, holding institutions accountable, and building coalitions to amplify collective voices.

What struck me immediately was how much this work requires understanding power structures and systems—exactly the kind of understanding my legal education provided. Activism isn’t just about passion and conviction; it’s about strategic thinking, relationship building, and knowing how to navigate bureaucratic and political systems.

The Rich History of Victim Rights Activism

One of the most valuable parts of this week was learning about the history of activism within the victim services field. The training emphasized that the U.S. victims’ rights movement coincided with other pivotal social movements, with the first laws and formal policies of the modern era appearing in the mid-1960s.

The historical context was fascinating. The early American criminal justice process allowed victims to lead the investigation and prosecution until the 19th century, but in the early 20th century, the victims’ role was reduced. It wasn’t until mid to late 20th century that a strong victims’ rights movement emerged.

The document “From Pain to Power” provided even more detail about key milestones:

• 1965 – California became the first state to establish a victim compensation program
• 1972 – The first three rape crisis centers opened in the United States
• 1974 – The first domestic violence shelter opened
• 1982 – President Reagan established the President’s Task Force on Victims of Crime
• 1984 – The Victims of Crime Act (VOCA) was passed, establishing a Crime Victims Fund
• 2004 – The Crime Victims’ Rights Act gave victims specific federal rights

Reading this timeline, I was struck by how recent much of this progress is. Fifty years ago, there were no rape crisis centers. Forty years ago, victims had virtually no formal rights in the criminal justice system. The services and protections we now take for granted exist because activists fought for them.

Activism created the victim services field as we know it—every hotline, every shelter, every victim advocate position, every legal protection emerged from activists demanding that society do better for victims.

That legacy carries a responsibility: we can’t just maintain what previous activists built. We have to continue pushing forward, identifying new gaps, and creating the services and protections that victims need today and will need tomorrow.

The Current State of Victim Advocacy: Challenges We Face Today

Learning about the rich history of victim rights activism was inspiring—but it’s equally important to understand the current challenges facing the field. As I prepare to enter victim services, I need clear eyes about what I’m stepping into.

The reality is stark: victim rights advocacy is currently facing significant challenges related to insufficient funding, resource disparities, and legislative hurdles. These issues impact the ability of advocates to provide essential services and can hinder victims’ access to justice and recovery resources.

Funding Cuts: A Crisis in Resources

The most immediate threat to victim services is funding. A primary concern is the significant decrease in federal funding available through the Victims of Crime Act (VOCA)—the very legislation that activists fought so hard to pass in 1984.

Changes in federal judicial outcomes and legislation have led to cuts upwards of 81% for Victim Assistance programs in some areas. Eighty-one percent. Let that sink in. Programs that were helping thousands of victims are now scrambling to maintain basic services with a fraction of their previous budgets.

Advocates in various states, including my own California, are urging legislators to provide stable funding to sustain critical, life-saving services for survivors. This isn’t about expanding services or starting new initiatives—it’s about preventing the collapse of existing programs that victims depend on.

As I apply to volunteer with the SART program, I’m aware that the agency I’m joining is likely operating under severe budget constraints. The intensive training they’re offering me represents a significant investment of their limited resources. That makes me even more committed to showing up fully and making that investment worthwhile.

This funding crisis also underscores why activism and policy advocacy are so crucial. Direct service alone isn’t enough if the programs providing those services can’t keep their doors open. We need advocates who can work on multiple levels—providing services to individual victims while simultaneously fighting for the funding and policies that make those services possible.

Resource and Service Gaps: Who Gets Left Behind

Even when services exist, many victims can’t access them. Many victims, particularly from minority and underserved communities, face barriers to receiving assistance, such as lack of awareness of services, transportation issues, or stigma.

This resonates with my own experience. When I was experiencing intimate partner violence in college, I didn’t even know what resources might exist. I was in a predominantly white institution, but I imagine the barriers are even higher for victims in communities of color, immigrant communities, LGBTQ+ communities, or rural areas where services are geographically distant.

There are also specific types of victimization that remain under-identified and underserved, such as human trafficking and financial fraud. The field has made tremendous progress in recognizing and serving victims of sexual assault and domestic violence, but we’re still learning how to identify and assist victims of other crimes—particularly those that don’t fit our traditional narratives about victimization.

This gap in services affects my thinking about campus advocacy. College campuses are diverse environments, and any effective advocacy must consider how to reach all students—not just those who already know how to navigate support systems, not just those who fit stereotypical victim profiles, but truly all students who need help.

Legislative and Policy Debates: Complexity and Controversy

The path forward isn’t always clear. Ongoing legislative debates create uncertainty and sometimes pit advocates against each other.

For example, some victim advocates have opposed certain aspects of victims’ rights legislation, such as Marsy’s Law, arguing it can undermine due process by creating conflict between victim and defendant rights, potentially exacerbating inequalities in the criminal legal system.

This complexity was eye-opening for me. I had assumed that all victims’ rights legislation would be unequivocally supported by victim advocates. But the reality is more nuanced. Thoughtful advocates recognize that we must balance victims’ rights with defendants’ rights, and that poorly crafted legislation—even when well-intentioned—can create unintended consequences, particularly for defendants from marginalized communities who are already disadvantaged by the criminal legal system.

Other legislative efforts, like the recent Victim and Witness Protection Act in California, aim to strengthen protections against intimidation but face scrutiny and debate. Every new law creates questions about implementation, enforcement, and potential unintended effects.

This reinforces something I learned in law school: good intentions don’t automatically create good policy. Effective advocacy requires understanding not just what we want to achieve, but how our proposed solutions might play out in practice, who might be harmed as well as helped, and how to craft policies that actually work for the people they’re meant to serve.

Online Harassment and Intimidation: New Threats to Advocates

As someone who has been writing publicly about my experience on this blog, I’m acutely aware of the risks of online visibility. Women journalists, rights defenders, and activists have reported a significant rise in online violence, with many experiencing real-world attacks linked to digital abuse, posing a challenge to their advocacy efforts.

This is a relatively new dimension of the threats advocates face. Previous generations of victim activists had to worry about physical safety and media misrepresentation. Today’s advocates also face coordinated online harassment campaigns, doxxing, threats to their families, and digital abuse that can escalate to real-world violence.

Last week, when I was considering public speaking and media engagement, I didn’t fully appreciate this dimension of risk. Now I understand that any victim advocate who speaks publicly—especially about controversial issues or high-profile cases—must consider their digital security as seriously as their physical safety.

This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t speak out. But it does mean we need to be strategic, protect our personal information carefully, and have support systems in place for when—not if—we face backlash.

Challenges in the Legal System: Systemic Failures

Perhaps most frustrating are the ongoing failures within the criminal justice system itself. Issues such as the historical backlog of untested sexual assault kits (SAKs) in various cities have been cited as examples of “ignorance of or indifference to victims’ rights” within the justice system.

Tens of thousands of rape kits have sat untested in evidence rooms across the country—sometimes for decades. Each untested kit represents a victim who went through the traumatic process of a forensic exam, who trusted that the evidence they provided would be used to pursue justice, only to have that evidence ignored.

This backlog isn’t about lack of technology or inability to process the kits. It’s about priorities and resources. It’s about how seriously law enforcement takes sexual assault. It’s about whose victimization matters.

As I prepare to work with sexual assault survivors through the SART program, I’ll be entering a system that has historically failed the very people I’m hoping to help. That’s sobering. It also makes the work feel even more urgent—victims need advocates precisely because the systems meant to serve them so often don’t.

A Silver Lining: Growing Demand for Advocates

Despite these significant challenges—or perhaps because of them—there’s one encouraging data point: the job outlook for victim advocates is strong, with a projected growth of 10% from 2023 to 2033, indicating a high demand for their essential services.

This growth projection tells us several things. First, society increasingly recognizes the importance of victim services, even if funding doesn’t always match that recognition. Second, as awareness of different types of victimization grows, so does the need for trained advocates. Third, and perhaps most importantly, the next generation of advocates is needed to sustain and grow this field.

That’s where I come in. That’s where all of us learning about victim services come in. We’re entering the field at a challenging moment, but also at a crucial one. The activists who built this field in the 1970s and 1980s are retiring. New challenges like online harassment and human trafficking require new responses. Funding crises require new advocacy strategies. Service gaps require innovative approaches.

There’s room—and need—for a new generation of advocates who understand both the field’s history and its current challenges, who can provide direct services while also fighting for systemic change, who can navigate complex policy debates while staying grounded in victims’ actual needs.

What This Means for My Path Forward

Understanding these challenges hasn’t discouraged me—if anything, it’s strengthened my commitment. When I apply to volunteer with the SART program, I’m not entering a well-funded, smoothly functioning system. I’m joining advocates who are doing critical work with inadequate resources, fighting to maintain services in the face of massive funding cuts, navigating complex legal and political landscapes, and facing online harassment for their efforts.

That’s the reality of victim advocacy today. It’s not a field for those seeking easy wins or quick solutions. It requires persistence, resilience, strategic thinking, and a long-term commitment to change.

But here’s what gives me hope: despite all these challenges, advocates continue showing up. Programs continue operating. Victims continue getting served. Policy battles continue being fought. The work continues because it matters, because victims need it, because giving up isn’t an option.

The activists who founded MADD and Parents of Murdered Children and opened the first rape crisis centers didn’t have adequate funding either. They didn’t have perfect legislation. They faced massive systemic barriers. But they built something anyway, one victim at a time, one policy change at a time, one advocacy effort at a time.

That’s the tradition I’m stepping into. That’s the work I’m preparing to do. And understanding these challenges—really understanding them—makes me a more effective advocate. I won’t be naive about what’s possible or blindsided by obstacles. I’ll be realistic about limitations while still fighting for what victims need and deserve.

Working with Policymakers: The Heart of Legislative Advocacy

The most substantial section of this week’s training focused on working with policymakers and lawmakers. This is where activism becomes concrete—where passionate advocacy translates into actual policy change.

The training outlined a three-step process for engaging with policymakers:

Step One: Understanding Activism and Public Policy

• Understand how policy changes can be affected at different government levels
• Learn how policies and laws are created
• Identify your message and focus on your goals
• Identify sympathetic lawmakers and find out the best decisionmakers to approach
• Identify opposing decisionmakers
• Reach out to other crime survivors
• Research lobbying restrictions by state

The training recommended using VictimLaw (victimlaw.org) as a resource for understanding victims’ rights legislation across jurisdictions.

Step Two: Preparing Yourself

• Know what you want to achieve from the visit with decisionmakers
• Know how much time you’ll have
• Familiarize yourself with key points
• Understand why your points are important
• Prepare studies and statistics
• Keep it short

This preparation phase resonated with my legal training. I know how to research statutes and case law; I can apply that skill to researching existing legislation and policy proposals. I know how to construct persuasive arguments backed by evidence; I can apply that to advocacy meetings. The fundamental skills are transferable—what I need to develop is the specific knowledge of victim services policy issues.

Step Three: The Meeting and Follow-Up

• Address any questions or concerns
• Be prepared for a neutral reaction
• Don’t give up if you experience rejection—change takes a long time

The “From Pain to Power” document provided as a resource in my training gave additional practical guidance drawn from actual advocacy experience. By speaking to government officials, legislators, or the press, victims often find they are accorded greater respect than service professionals and their words carry weight with decision makers.

One telling example: When Victim Services staff travel to Albany, New York, accompanied by crime victims to talk with state legislators, they usually are met by the legislator; when they go alone, they are more likely to be met by staff.

This underscores the power of survivor voices in advocacy. Legislators respond differently when confronted with the human reality of their policy decisions. Statistics matter, but stories move people to action.

Holding Public Discussions: Bringing Communities into the Conversation

Activism isn’t just about working within the halls of power; it’s also about mobilizing public support and creating community awareness.

Benefits of Public Discussion

• Bringing crime to light
• Motivating action and involvement
• Raising money and materials donations
• Encouraging victims to find help
• Encouraging law enforcement to take greater action

The “From Pain to Power” document noted that when crime victims move from their personal experiences to a broader social analysis and to activism, they can aid their own recovery from trauma.

Platforms for Discussion

• Setting up and promoting meetings through allied organizations
• Signing up as a speaker for victim service organizations
• Conducting training sessions for law enforcement
• Using social media
• Creating blogs
• Writing articles and editorials
• Connecting with local colleges and universities

This variety of platforms is encouraging. Not everyone is comfortable standing at a podium in front of a large audience. Some activists might be more effective writing op-eds or creating social media campaigns. Others might excel at facilitating small group discussions or training sessions. There’s room for different strengths and comfort levels.

Before, During, and After the Discussion

Before: Promote the discussion, tailor your message for the audience, ensure safety, make time for self-care, and ensure a victim advocate or counselor is present.

During: Compose yourself, be careful about disclosing information, be prepared to answer questions accurately with sources, avoid arguments or heated discussions.

After: End with your “call to action,” take questions if time allows, take time for self-care, and know who to contact for support if necessary.

The emphasis on self-care throughout this process is important. Public discussions about trauma can be emotionally draining, even when they’re ultimately productive and healing.

Engaging the Media: Amplifying Your Message

One of the most strategic tools in an activist’s toolkit is media engagement.

Understanding How Media Works

The training was refreshingly honest about media challenges:

• You may have little control over media reports
• Images or speech may be taken out of context
• Everything you say to the media can be made publicly available

The “From Pain to Power” document elaborated: Some victims who have spoken out through media feel they’ve been taken advantage of—their messages were misrepresented or their words edited to alter their meaning. Some journalists recast victim activists’ identities, portraying them as powerless and pitiable rather than empowered and brave.

Delivering Your Message

• Control your message by asking questions before the interview
• If you don’t like the answers, refuse the interview
• Develop three to five talking points
• You can refuse to answer any question
• Be honest and relate hope, strength, and positive aspects
• You don’t have to discuss topics that make you uncomfortable

The emphasis on control—knowing you can refuse interviews, refuse questions, and set boundaries—is empowering.

Writing a Press Release

• Craft an attention-grabbing headline
• Include the main point in the first paragraph
• Use relevant statistics
• Incorporate a strong quotation to engage readers
• Include contact information and additional resources

Developing Relationships and Protecting Yourself

Develop working relationships with reporters who have sensitively covered the issue you’re working on. Research appropriate media outlets and contact reporters directly.

For protection: Limit media feedback consumption, remember it’s not necessarily personal, and practice self-care. This is particularly relevant in our current media environment where online harassment can be brutal.

Why Victims Become Activists: The Personal Becomes Political

The “From Pain to Power” document opened with powerful examples of victims who transformed their pain into action:

Ralph Hubbard’s son was murdered in 1985. After years of feeling angry and powerless, Hubbard resolved to help other families work through their suffering. He began speaking out, started a self-help group for men who had lost family members to violence, and became a leading spokesperson for victims’ rights in New York State.

Long Island Railroad massacre survivors were determined to prevent similar atrocities. They became outspoken advocates for gun control and victims’ rights, speaking at vigils and rallies and lobbying for a ban on assault weapons.

These stories illustrate the journey “from pain to power”—transforming personal tragedy into social action, helping change society while healing themselves in the process.

The Benefits of Activism for Healing

The document devoted significant attention to how activism can aid trauma recovery:

Rebuilding Self-Esteem: By standing up to challenges and failures in advocacy work, victims prove to themselves they are neither weak nor helpless. Self-esteem can be enhanced by joining a cause from which one derives reflected power and glory.

Reducing Isolation: When victims work with those who have had similar experiences, they realize they’re not alone. Social action can serve as an effective means of reestablishing ties with others.

Regaining Power: By joining with others to prevent violence or improve treatment of crime victims, victims can have an impact on the community and recapture a sense of power. They transform the meaning of their personal tragedy by making it the basis for social action.

Dealing with Fear and Anger: Crime victims can master their fear by working on community crime prevention projects. The anger that follows victimization can productively be redirected through activism. Feelings of rage are transformed into constructive social action.

Reading about these benefits, I recognized elements of my own experience. Writing this blog—sharing my story publicly—has been therapeutic in ways traditional counseling alone wasn’t. It’s helped me reduce isolation, given me a sense of purpose and control, and channeled my anger into something constructive.

Important Caveats

The document was also honest about limitations: Becoming a victim activist is not a requisite step in trauma recovery and may be problematic for some. A victim’s own interest and desire to participate should be the determining factor.

Timing is important. Advocating for legislative reform or helping others before coming to terms with their own trauma may impede some victims’ recovery. Unless victims have achieved a sense of safety and explored their traumatic experience, they may be unable to cope with other people’s trauma on top of their own.

This resonates with my reflections from last week about public speaking. I’m not ready for certain forms of advocacy yet, and that’s okay. Healing isn’t linear, and there’s no timeline I need to meet.

My Reflection: Campus Advocacy as My Focus

This week asked us to identify a victim services issue we’d personally pursue as an activist. For me, the answer is clear: campus advocacy for victims of intimate partner violence.

When I was a college student, I became a victim of domestic violence. I felt completely alone and had no resources to help me. The people surrounding me—students, sorority sisters, teachers—were not equipped to help me. For this reason, campus advocacy is something close to my heart.

Colleges and universities are unique environments where young people, often living independently for the first time, navigate relationships without the support systems they had at home. Dating violence is prevalent on campuses, but resources are often inadequate or focused primarily on sexual assault, not intimate partner violence.

I would love to advocate for more comprehensive resources for intimate partner violence victims on college campuses, including:

Policy Changes:

• Mandatory training for resident advisors, campus police, student health centers, and faculty on recognizing signs of intimate partner violence
• Clear protocols for accommodating students who need to move dorms, adjust class schedules, or take leaves of absence due to abuse
• Protection of student privacy when reporting abuse
• Ensuring Title IX offices address intimate partner violence as comprehensively as sexual assault
• Campus restraining orders and safety planning

Resource Development:

• On-campus advocates specifically trained in intimate partner violence (not just sexual assault)
• Support groups for students experiencing or recovering from intimate partner violence
• Educational programs for students about healthy relationships and warning signs of abuse
• Training for Greek life organizations, sports teams, and other student groups
• Clear information about on-campus and community resources

Cultural Change:

• Public awareness campaigns that address the unique dynamics of college dating violence
• Peer education programs
• Integration of healthy relationship education into orientation programs

This issue combines everything I’ve learned these past four weeks: it requires direct service (providing support to individual students), public speaking (educating campus communities), and activism (changing policies and systems).

It also plays to my strengths. My legal background helps me understand the policy landscape of higher education. My personal experience gives me credibility and insight into what students need. My emerging knowledge of victim services provides a framework for effective intervention.

Most importantly, it addresses a gap I experienced personally. When I needed help, those systems weren’t there. I want to ensure they exist for other students who find themselves in similar situations.

Taking Action: My Next Step Into the Field

As I write about activism and advocacy this week, I’m not just contemplating future possibilities—I’m taking concrete steps forward. I’ve applied to volunteer as an advocate with a Sexual Assault Response Team (SART) at a local non-profit agency in my city.

This feels like a significant moment. For four weeks, I’ve been learning about the victim services field, exploring different paths, considering how I might use my voice, and examining activism. Now I’m moving from student to practitioner, from observer to participant.

The SART advocate position will allow me to work directly with victims of sexual assault, showing up for them in their most vulnerable moments—in hospitals, police stations, and courtrooms. It’s immediate, hands-on victim advocacy that will give me the practical experience I’ve been seeking. The volunteer position comes with intensive training on advocating for both sexual assault survivors and survivors of domestic violence, which will complement and deepen everything I’ve learned in this certification program.

I’m nervous. I’m excited. I’m passionate about this opportunity.

This role will help me in several important ways:

Building Direct Service Experience: One gap I’ve identified in my preparation for activism is lack of direct experience working with victims. SART advocacy will give me that crucial foundation. I’ll learn what victims actually need in crisis moments, what resources exist in my community, how systems work (or fail) in practice, and what barriers victims face when seeking help.

Strengthening My Skills: The intensive training will develop my skills in trauma-informed practice, crisis intervention, safety planning, navigating systems with victims, and providing emotional support in acute situations. These are skills that will serve me whether I ultimately focus on direct service, policy work, or campus advocacy.

Meeting Fellow Advocates: One of the themes throughout this training has been the importance of building relationships and coalitions. By volunteering with this agency, I’ll connect with experienced advocates in my city, learn from their expertise, build my network within the victim services community, and potentially find mentors who can guide my development.

Testing My Path: While I’ve identified campus advocacy around intimate partner violence as my ultimate focus, I’m not limiting myself to that vision. By working with sexual assault survivors more broadly, I’ll develop a fuller understanding of these interconnected issues. Sexual assault and intimate partner violence often overlap—many domestic violence relationships include sexual violence, and many sexual assaults occur in dating relationships. Understanding the full landscape will make me more effective, regardless of my specific focus.

Informing My Advocacy: If I want to advocate for better systems and policies, I need to understand how current systems work from the inside. SART advocacy will show me where the gaps are, what re-traumatizes victims, what helps victims heal, and what policy changes would make the most difference. My activism will be grounded in real experience, not just theory.

The application process itself has been instructive. I’ve had to articulate why I want to do this work, what I bring to it, and what I hope to gain from it. I’ve had to be honest about my own experience as a survivor while also demonstrating that I’m at a place in my healing where I can hold space for others’ trauma without being overwhelmed by my own.

Am I ready for this? I think so. I’ve been in therapy for years working through my own trauma. I’ve built strong support systems. I have professional skills and emotional maturity. I’m not doing this because I think I need to in order to heal—I’m doing this because I’ve healed enough to be useful to others, and because I genuinely want to make a difference in my community.

But I’m also aware that this will be challenging. Hearing others’ stories of sexual assault and domestic violence will sometimes be triggering. I’ll need to be vigilant about self-care and boundaries. I’ll need to lean on my support systems. I’ll need to be honest with myself about when I’m struggling and when I need to step back.

The training materials on self-care and avoiding burnout will be especially relevant as I begin this work. And conveniently, that’s exactly what Week 5 will cover.

Looking Ahead to Week 5: Preparing for the Field

Next week—the final week of this training program—will focus on working in victim advocacy. We’ll explore how to create a plan of engagement within the victim services field, how to network and prepare for finding a position, and how to begin this work. We’ll also examine self-resiliency and the workplace, as well as the different office environments we may encounter in victim services.

This timing feels perfect. As I prepare to begin volunteering with the SART program, Week 5 will help me think strategically about:

• Workplace Environments: What will it be like working in a crisis-response non-profit? What are the challenges and rewards of different victim services settings?
• Self-Care and Resilience: How do I sustain this work long-term without burning out? What self-care practices do I need to establish now?
• Career Planning: While I’m starting as a volunteer, where might this lead? How does SART advocacy fit into a longer-term career path?
• Networking and Community: How do I build relationships within the victim services community? How do I find mentors?

The journey from Week 1—when I was just beginning to explore whether victim advocacy was right for me—to Week 5—when I’ll be preparing to actually do this work—has been profound. I’ve gone from uncertain exploration to clear commitment. I’ve identified my strengths and my gaps. I’ve found a specific focus (campus advocacy for intimate partner violence) while also recognizing that I have much to learn and experience along the way.

And I’ve learned that victim advocacy takes many forms. Not everyone needs to be a public speaker or a policy activist. Some advocates’ most important work happens in hospital rooms at 3 AM, sitting with a survivor who needs someone to believe them. Some work happens in courtrooms, ensuring victims’ voices are heard. Some happens in support groups, connecting people who thought they were alone. And some happens in legislative chambers and policy meetings, changing the systems that have failed victims for too long.

There’s room for all of it. There’s a need for all of it. And I’m ready to find my place in it.

Take the Next Step

Interested in activism within victim services? Start by identifying one specific issue that needs attention in your community. Research what efforts already exist. Connect with local advocacy organizations. Offer to volunteer with an existing campaign before launching your own. Attend city council or county board meetings to see how policy decisions are made. Follow state and federal legislation related to victim issues. Build your knowledge and relationships before jumping into action.

For college students and recent graduates: If you experienced intimate partner violence during college, consider whether sharing your experience with campus administrators could help improve resources. You could also get involved with campus sexual assault prevention programs and push for them to address dating violence more comprehensively.

For legal professionals: Consider how you can advocate within your profession and in educational institutions for trauma-informed practice and better support for student victims. Can you propose training programs for campus police? Offer to review campus policies? Provide pro bono advice to student victims?

For survivors: Your voice and experience are valuable, but you get to decide when, where, and how to share them. Don’t let anyone pressure you into public advocacy before you’re ready. And remember that supporting other advocates, showing up at hearings, signing petitions, and other behind-the-scenes actions are all forms of activism too.

Week 5 will explore how to prepare for and sustain a career in victim services. As I begin my volunteer work with the SART program, these lessons about workplace resilience and career planning couldn’t come at a better time. The final installment of this series will share what I’ve learned about turning commitment into sustainable, effective advocacy work.

---

Have you volunteered or worked in victim services? What surprised you most about the experience? What advice would you give someone just starting out? For those who’ve been SART advocates specifically—what do you wish you’d known before you started? I’d genuinely appreciate any wisdom you’re willing to share as I embark on this next step.