Truths we must face

This blog has been written by Tina, a court Idva who has worked in the domestic abuse sector for over 12 years. The majority of her work has been around the criminal justice system. Her area of focus is providing voluntary support to victims / survivors in her local community (particularly migrant survivors) and helping them navigate through support systems, advocate on their behalf, reduce risk and support other professionals supporting them.

 

The truth I carry into every room

In life, we all come up against barriers at different stages. I want to share the barriers I have faced not just as a human being, not just as a woman, not just as a Black woman, but as a Black migrant woman working in the VAWG sector. I have worked in VAWG for more than 12 years. I have training, skills, expertise and experience. I also have the dedication, motivation and empathy to support people experiencing domestic abuse, and to guide professionals who need support. Yet too often, my skills are doubted before I even speak. 

 

The truth about leadership and equity

One colleague went directly to a person I was supporting and said, “I wouldn’t listen to everything she tells you, she’s not from here and don’t think she knows what she’s doing.” Another told me to my face, “You don’t know how things work here in England, wouldn’t expect you to.” Those words cut deep. If the professionals I am working alongside do not recognise me as a human being and as a professional, how will they respond to Black survivors, especially Black migrant survivors. 

A fair leadership pipeline would start by not making judgments based on skin colour or accent. It would focus on experience, knowledge and skills, so victims of domestic abuse feel heard and supported, and so Black staff can progress, be paid fairly and have their voices respected. 

 

The truth about belief, safety and cultural competence

I have worked with many organisations. One defining moment was having a senior management team who saw me as a human being first. They valued my contribution and involved me like any other member of staff. I did not feel out of place or inadequate or questioned. I felt seen. That sense of being seen enabled me to work to the best of my ability and deliver excellent outcomes, not just for the organisation but for the people we supported. Belief changes what is possible. 

 

The truth about routes into help

Referral pathways can break down from the very first contact. Marginalisation can start in the first conversation. We know a survivor may only reach out once, so we cannot create barriers by focusing on issues that do not matter in that moment. Professionals must assure the survivor, “I am here, I am listening,” then look at safety options, any safeguarding concerns or medical needs, and identify risks, rather than acting like authorities. 

For Black migrant survivors, immigration status may affect access to housing or public funds. That should never stop us addressing risk and looking at safety options. Safety planning comes first, always. 

 

The truth about practice that works

Organisations must ensure staff have adequate training to understand and respond to the cultural needs of Black survivors. This is not optional. It is core to safe, effective practice. Too many failures in the system do not only come from the police, social care or the courts. They start within domestic abuse organisations that are meant to listen and support early. We must not reproduce the institutional racism that Black survivors are subjected to. When staff are trained, resourced and held accountable, outcomes improve. 

 

The truth about what must change now

• Believe Black survivors the first time. Make the first contact count. 

• Invest in cultural competence, not as a tick-box but as ongoing learning. 

• Create leadership pathways that recognise skill and experience, not accent or stereotype. 

• Examine organisational culture so that harm is not reproduced inside the very services designed to help. 

 

The truth about why I still stand

I share these reflections because I want change that lasts. I want every survivor to be heard and supported. I want Black professionals to be seen and valued for our skills and leadership. Standing firm in power and pride means telling the truth about what is not working, and building the safer future we all deserve. 

 

Thank you for reading.