We talk about domestic violence as a community problem because its effects are not isolated to the relationship in which it’s happening. Everyone in a community -- from children, to other friends and families, to neighbors, to coworkers -- is impacted by domestic violence. A punitive approach to domestic violence, where the person who has caused harm is sent to jail or prison, is the most common response in our current criminal justice system. But incarceration on its own does not heal the survivor and the community, and it certainly does not reform those who have caused harm.
“‘Restorative justice recognizes that crime hurts everyone, the victim, offender, and the community, and it creates an obligation to make things right.’ The fundamental principles are offender accountability, the voice of the victim, and community involvement to heal the harm caused by violence and other crime. The backbone was that it must be victim-driven.”
Meet Sunny Schwartz, a champion of the restorative justice movement. She believes that restorative justice can stop generational cycles of domestic violence that show up in our communities. Sunny has worked in the movement for over 25 years, and is the founder of the nationally-recognized Resolve To Stop The Violence Project (RSVP), an intervention that takes on the key tenets of restorative justice and puts them into play to ensure that people who have harmed, survivors, and community members alike are able to come together and heal from the devastating impacts of violence. We chatted with Sunny about why she believes so strongly in the power of this movement, and how she has put it into practice over the course of her career. Read on to learn more!
Tell us a little bit about yourself & what brings you to this work.
I always wanted to be a criminal defense attorney because when I was growing up in the south side of Chicago, I saw the haves and have-nots. I saw kids in my class get swept away. Back then, it was more like runaways or curfew and that type of thing, and they were put into juvenile hall. And it might have started in my DNA, started in my environment, but I always wanted to be a criminal defense attorney and be an advocate to those who did not have the resources to get the proper representation. I was a law intern in the San Francisco County Jail while in law school, and my task there was to basically be a liaison to the outside for incarcerated people. I was kind of their advocate to negotiate and navigate different issues, whether they were getting evicted or because of child custody issues.
It changed my career trajectory; I didn’t want to just defend people without any kind of meaningful, comprehensive approach to deal with their underlying issues with their painful, hurtful, unacceptable behavior. I passed the bar, I became a lawyer, and the sheriff asked me if I could come back. They were building a new jail and asked if I could go up and create a program division so people could participate in programs that responded to their struggles and deficiencies. One of the first things I did was interview 360 prisoners. The results were stunning. 75% had an average reading level of 4th-6th grade and 70% were high school dropouts or expelled. 80% self-declared that they were addicts or alcoholics or both. 90% said they were victims of violence, perpetrators of violence, or both. 80% of women were victims of child sexual trauma and or adult. 90% said they never held a legal job for more than a year. 80% said they had at least 1 child.
We started parenting programs and education programs. We had our first community substance abuse group for women, and created therapeutic communities for men and women in their dorms to talk about and heal from violence. One thing I did that was conceptually controversial, but I 100% stand by today, was to mandate programs. We wanted people to realize that if they wanted to live and take care of their kids, dogs, loved ones, and communities, they had to do the work. They had to empower themselves. The programs were so revolutionary because in most jails and prisons people sleep all day, play dominoes and cards, and never take the time to look in the mirror, do some serious introspection, and figure out ways to get better. We wanted to create a hopeful (not humiliating) environment where people believed they deserved better, their loved ones deserved better, and their community deserved better. People have to work for that. It’s an exercise for the outside world, if indeed if you never want to come back to these places.
What is restorative justice?
Even though I continued to be a passionate believer in people’s ability to change I was starting to become cynical. Seeing the same people come back over and over, sometimes six times a year, for violence was hard. I happened to be at a conference in Minnesota in 1995 and heard about this concept called restorative justice. And to this day, the definition from the workshop is imprinted in my head and soul. “Restorative justice recognizes that crime hurts everyone, the victim, offender, and the community, and it creates an obligation to make things right.” The fundamental principles are offender accountability, the voice of the victim, and community involvement to heal the harm caused by violence and other crime. The backbone was that it must be victim driven.
“Restorative justice is critical because even though it’s an intervention in that we’re working with them after the fact, it’s also prevention because they’re going to get out and go back to their communities.”
A lot of people are talking about restorative justice today and while I’m heartened by it, there’s some misunderstanding about what it is. It’s not about rehabilitation. Rehabilitation is a great and important approach but it’s not restorative justice. Rehabilitation is about making one’s self whole, making sure somebody who does harm to themselves or others has the tools to be a better human being. But if you do not have unequivocal accountability and the voices of those that have been harmed -- survivors or victims -- it’s not restorative justice.
For instance, drug treatment is really critical and should be the rule not the exception in our jails and prisons. Is it restorative justice? No, it is rehabilitation. I am kind of hardcore about redirecting people, because when I don’t hear a program includes the voice of those that have been harmed, there is not accountability. Without accountability we keep seeing the same people coming back with the same excuses -- “She made me, he made me, I really didn’t do this.”
Can you define accountability, what does that mean in the context of restorative justice?
Accountability is looking in the mirror and understanding the impact and the harm that one has created. It’s looking in the mirror and saying, “Oh my god, what have I done? I am so sorry. I want to make it right.'' It’s not just saying sorry, but really understanding the impact of your behavior and having empathy.
What does community accountability looks like for people who have caused harm in the context of domestic violence?
It looks like a lot of things. It might allow community members to have their experiences heard, understood, and validated. It might look like businesses committing to either hiring victims or former offenders so they can become taxpayers instead of tax strainers. Having a community person voice their concerns and outrage and be part of the solution is so crucial. Getting community involved is uncharted territory, honestly. In town halls, we would share what’s going on behind the walls of the jail and we would get community input on what they think is needed as a solution. We would ask -- what do you need this person to do to take accountability? What is it you want to be assured about? How do you want them to understand how their violence harmed you?
“We really take the lead of that survivor. They might say that they want to get back together with the person who harmed them, and it’s not up to the staff to say, “No, you can’t.” It’s up to the staff to advocate for the survivor, show them their options and alternatives, and to not be judgmental about it.”
Tell us about the Resolve To Stop The Violence Project -- how does it take on community accountability & center the voices of survivors?
I started a batterers’ intervention program, called the Resolve To Stop The Violence Project (RSVP), in the jail. I wanted to do something comprehensive using the principles of restorative justice, engaging and providing services to victims, and rallying community involvement. I gathered 40 very diverse people, all of whom were invested in the movement to end violence. I had a mother whose daughter and grandson were brutally murdered sitting next to a formerly incarcerated abusive man who got better sitting next to a Baptist minister sitting next to an orthodox rabbi sitting next to a probation officer, a deputy sheriff, a gay rights activist, people for and against the death penalty -- the list goes on. I facilitated meetings with these folks on what it would look like to stop violence in our homes and communities.
We worked for 18 months to create RSVP. We realized that everyone is impacted by crime, whether it's no degree of separation or two degrees of separation. When there’s a carjacking down the street, for example, it has a chilling effect on everyone -- the impact of violence has such a ripple effect. We centered the three principles of restorative justice in the program: accountability, the voices of those who were harmed, and community involvement. The program also has a feminist analysis and approach, because it really looked at teaching people who harmed dynamics of power and control, superior and inferior sexual stereotypes, the objectification of women. It is so comprehensive. In addition to facilitating the program in the jail, we mandated that post-release those who had been incarcerated attend intervention programs for a minimum of 20 hours a week. That was part of fostering accountability and helping folks understand the impact of their harm.
We also created a parallel survivor restoration program that included really vibrant, passionate staff who were there to provide practical and emotional support and services to the survivor. We created survivor empowerment groups, which were 12 or 15 week rotations on topics from how to change your oil to acupuncture to therapy to job training. Survivors who were comfortable had the option to come into the jail and tell their stories of surviving. This was meant to be healing and empowering for the survivors, and fostered empathy among the incarcerated men, for some of whom these talks were the first time they came to terms with the profound and far-reaching impact of their violence. For instance, a domestic violence survivor or a rape survivor would come in to share their story. Whether or not the men were charged with domestic violence or rape, undoubtedly they had done something similar to what that speaker was talking about. It is powerful stuff.
How involved can a survivor be in the program?
The men who harm are mandated to participate in the program, but the survivors are not required to participate. The survivor empowerment piece is about restoring their humanity and sense of self-worth, and about providing resources so they can create their own pathway to safety.
Through the program we offer a menu of services: practical support, emotional support, talking to other survivors, and more. We really take the lead of that survivor. They might say that they want to get back together with the person who harmed them, and it’s not up to the staff to say, “No, you can’t.” It’s up to the staff to advocate for the survivor, show them their options and alternatives, and to not be judgmental about it.
Why do you think it’s important to connect and engage with people who have caused harmed, specifically in the anti-domestic violence context?
When we first started out, some folks said, “How can you work with those guys, they’re monsters?” To which I always said, yes, they have caused unspeakable violence -- but they will leave jail. They’re coming back to your neighborhood and my neighborhood, and a lot of them are getting back together with their girlfriends or spouses. Restorative justice is critical because even though it’s an intervention in that we’re working with them after the fact, it’s also prevention because they’re going to get out and go back to their communities. I just felt incumbent as a feminist, as a citizen, as a professional working in the jails, to take advantage of the time we have while folks are in our custody to not only confront the harm they’d caused but to provide concrete alternatives for them to stop their violence.
“Forgiveness, if it comes organically, can be an important part of someone’s journey -- but restorative justice is not a “get out of jail free” card nor does it have to include forgiveness.”
If there was one thing you would want people who are invested in this movement to end domestic violence and in restorative justice to take away, what would it be?
I think it’s very tricky to talk about restorative justice and domestic violence. Forgiveness, if it comes organically, can be an important part of someone’s journey -- but restorative justice is not a “get out of jail free” card nor does it have to include forgiveness. I really am concerned about sometimes that [idea that forgiveness is a necessary part of restorative justice] getting confused because it’s yet again, it’s another inhibition on the survivor. “You have to forgive him.” And it’s like, oh my god, you have got to be kidding me. No, it does not have to include that. If we’re talking about being victim-driven, we have to follow the lead of the survivor, not impose requirements on them of how they should heal.
Before I was introduced to restorative justice, I would hear survivors say things like, “Gosh, the offender is getting more services than me, what’s up with that?” I think there was truth to that and that’s what so mighty about restorative justice. We make damn sure that the survivor is getting what they need to make themselves whole, and the offender does not get to justify, minimize, or deny their violence in that process. That’s paramount. We have to make sure that survivor is getting the practical and emotional support to get back on track to get their equilibrium and self-determination back.
How have you taken care of yourself as you’ve done this work? How have you made it so that you can do this work sustainably?
Before I heard about restorative justice, I think the biggest occupational hazard in my work was cynicism. It’s really easy to become cynical when you see people who keep coming for the same thing and you worked so hard to support them. When I heard about restorative justice, the light bulbs clicked on and I saw the mightiness of this movement that underscores everyone's desire to do the right thing. That in and of itself keeps my heart and mind healthy. On a personal note, I surround myself with my loved ones and family. Love and baseball keeps me happy.
I think restorative justice has been a balm of sorts. You see the movement and the triumph of the spirit because it can involve such authenticity and such great humanity. It’s so important. And just having a balanced life is so important, too. I mean that about baseball, it's my therapy. Baseball and love.