L.O.
COMBAT VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN
Abused Women with Physical Disabilities in Shelters
Ruth Rasnic
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Introduction
"Your dad's a gimp, your dad's a gimp!" These taunts reverberated in my mind when I tried to ask myself why am I so
determined to do something for the welfare of disabled women who are abused.
Indeed, my father was lame, suffered from a stiff joint after serious surgery and two years hospitalisation between the ages
of 15 to 17. This was in the years prior to antibiotics, when a teenager suffering from osteomyelitis, had little chance of recovery.
There were things he couldn't do like bending down, tying his shoelaces, chasing us or running with his children. He
suffered from recurring attacks of minute slivers of dead bone travelling through his bloodstream, and he had to remain prone
on his back for weeks or months until the tiny sliver of dead bone matter would emerge at some point. Things took a turn for
the better when antibiotics arrived on the scene. Such an event could be cleared by a massive dose of penicillin...
The Organisation:
Some thirty years ago I was one of the founders of the feminist movement in Israel. If ever a movement was dovetailed to a
person, this was feminism for me.
My role models were Joan of Arc, Dame Edith Cavell, Florence Nightingale, Sarah Aronson (Head of the Nili underground who
helped the British in the 1st World War against the Turks and who committed suicide so as not to disclose any secrets when she
was captured). I was sorry I was not one of the Suffragettes with their heroic fight for the right to vote and to be represented; I and
literally thought I'd missed the boat.
Little did I know how much more there was to be done.
In September 1977 a group of women formed an organisation called: L.O. - Combat Violence Against Women in my office.
This was Israel's first group to tackle the issue. Within six months we opened our first shelter in Herzliya and then went on
to establish two more shelters in other towns. Soon, we are about to open an exclusive shelter for Arab women, to be run
solely by women of this community.
We lobby in the Israeli Knesset, invite members of Parliament to visit our shelters and meet with the residents, operate hotlines
for women in distress and children, lecture and hold day seminars. We participate in national and international conferences
and have considerable expertise in the field of domestic violence.
Women with disabilities in our shelters
Dina: was a tall and very attractive woman. Her blue eyes blazed when she told me about the father of her 7 months old baby.
He was a tall black Moslem, who would beat her. He was her pimp. When she did not bring in enough money, he lashed
into her leaving her bruised all over. She was also a victim of the dreaded medicine Thalidomide and was born with two
arms that ended inches before her elbow was supposed to be. Her right arm terminated with two claw like fingers. The left
arm was a short stump.
She coped very well with her baby, changing her pampers and feeding her. She needed help with the daily bath, and there
was always a willing woman to assist her.
Dina insisted on housework and chores, and even assisted with the cooking. After the initial shock the other women at the
shelter accepted her and explained her deformity to the children. One thing they could not tolerate. When she undressed
and went to take a shower, she would do so in her bedroom and then walk down the long corridor, with all the children
gaping at her stark naked body.
The complaints piled up and we discussed it in our weekly session. Since the women had no idea of her occupation, they
could not understand why she flaunted her body in front of everybody. She had a lovely figure and wanted everybody to see it.
She understood that her mates did not accept her behaviour, nor did the staff at the shelter, so she gave up this practice.
Within a few weeks she left us and returned home.
Dina goes in and out of shelters, returning to her lover/pimp. Their daughter is now in high school. Last time Dina stayed in
one of our shelters she was brought in by the police. Little remained of her former good looks. She looked much older than
her 43 years. Her pimp had become a junkie and an alcoholic and he nearly killed her. She left us when he was given a two
year prison sentence.
Natasha: A 47 year old woman, a new immigrant from the former USSR who arrived in Israel two years before coming to the
shelter. She was a single mother with a scrawny, bedraggled, twelve year old daughter who served as her interpreter and
guide. Natasha wore thick glasses but was officially regarded as blind and could barely detect shapes.
Shortly after arrival in Israel she took up with an older man and lived with him supposedly sharing an apartment, but also
became his lover. It was impossible to find out during her short stay with us whether the child had been molested sexually,
but we had our doubts.
The man discovered that his partner was unable to cook, clean or do the daily household chores he had expected from her.
So the daughter took over. The physical abuse began shortly after the emotional and mental abuse, and Natasha and her
daughter were referred to us by a social worker.
Neither mother nor daughter had washed for weeks and the girl's head was full of lice. We made sure they had soap, and
shampoo and a housemother helped the girl, Tamara, rid her hair of the lice with a fine comb and special shampoos.
We assisted Natasha to obtain a blind person's welfare allowance, and in a short while she was eligible for housing allowance.
Within a relatively short period Natasha and her daughter Tamara moved off to a new apartment, and hopefully made their
way in the new homeland.
Becky: This was a 58 year old widow who lived with her youngest, junkie son, a former prison inmate, who abused her terribly.
She was determined not to complain to the police about his cruelty and the suffering she had undergone. "He is my son,"
she would say. "It was his misfortune to grow up with such a violent father, go to the streets, get mixed up with drugs,
incarcerated. No way will I snitch on him to the police."
After our former experience with Natasha we were hesitant about accepting her, but were assured by social services that this
was a very self reliant and independent woman who could cope with the conditions in a shelter, and indeed she did.
What induced me to take her in despite our fears, was her unusual surname. We had a resident at our shelter years before
with that surname who had been a victim of physical, emotional and sexual abuse, with threats of death. The man had also
abused his daughters. It turned out that this was Becky's sister-in-law.
After being led to all corners of the small cottage and the grounds of the shelter, Becky soon found her way and coped. Mothers
and staff were more careful with toys and orange peels and there was always someone who made sure that the stairs were
not slippery and the living space cleared of all hazards. This was our smallest shelter with no more than six families.
Because of her age we thought that a safe old age home could keep her away from her son, but she was adamant in her wish
to return to her community, her group of friends at the Blind Society, her own little kitchen and home. Because she had not
filed a complaint with the police we could not apply for a Prevention Order. Eventually she was given alternative dwelling in
her home town and the son was supposed to evict her apartment. He ended up burning the apartment and nearly burned
the building down. He has been put away for an indefinite period in a mental hospital.
Nuzha: A young Arab woman who was sent to us by the plastic ward of a large hospital. She was married and the mother of
two children. We were told she had been threatened by her husband for suspicions of promiscuity. She was an epileptic.
Half her face, neck and shoulder were badly scarred from falling over a primus stove during one of her attacks. She was
also suicidal, a fact that we were unaware of upon her admission.
She was supposed to return for treatment at the hospital twice weekly. We assumed it was for her plastic treatment but it
turned out it was to her psychiatrist.
One day she suffered a terrible fit, in front of women and children. When she came out she told me she had run out of
medication, so we approached the Mental Health Clinic where the psychiatrist was amazed at the dosage and medication
she was taking, and refused to subscribe them. When we returned she had another fit. I took her to a local hospital, and the
attending neurologist stated that they do not take in epileptics. She had two fits in the E.R., and finally after giving her mild sedation,
it was decided to send her to a local psychiatric hospital. In the ambulance she had her fifth attack that day.
By that time she was bedraggled, her hair was damp and clotted, her clothes stank of urine and she was completely drained
out. She was a very sick woman. I ordered the ambulance driver to take her back to the Emergency Ward and as we rushed
her back, I could see the compassionate faces of the nurses and the amazed look of the chief of the department.
He tried to coax me to take her back to the shelter, but I told him no way could we risk her having another attack, falling over
and cracking her head. I pointed out that this was not a scene to which small children should be exposed, and that we had
no professional medical workers. I left, furious, screaming at the doctor that it was the responsibility of a hospital to care for
sick people, and that this was one hell of a sick woman. I also threatened him that should he try and send her in an ambulance
to our shelter, the story would make the headlines the following morning.
She never returned to us. She was accepted into the neurological ward, her family was called in and her husband and father
came with the social worker of the village and signed an agreement to care for her.
Years later I found out that she was killed in a car accident crossing the street in her village.
Women We Could Not Accept
It is those disabled women we had to turn away, not for lack of space, but because of their disabilities, that made me
determined something must be done to assist these victims of circumstances who were abused.
We did not get many requests because it was known that no facility in Israel was available for women with serious handicaps,
on wheel chairs, paraplegics, quadriplegics.
My struggle to convince the welfare authorities to help us build a suitable building and staff it with paramedics began early
in 1999. Endless meetings and correspondence with bureaucratic officials. Now I am told that it is not politically correct to
have a special, well laid out facility for disabled women. Rather, each shelter (most of which are rented and not the property
of the women's groups running them) should build on and adapt a room and toilets to take in disabled women. Perhaps
even their caretakers.
Until such a time, there will be many dozens of disabled, abused women, who will not be accepted into shelters for lack of
adequate facilities and staff.
I will continue my campaign until I succeed.
Ruth Rasnic
Founder & Executive Director
L.O. - Combat Violence Against Women
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