Copyright 2002 San Antonio Express-News San Antonio Express-News (Texas)
June 2, 2002, Sunday , METRO
June 2, 2002, Sunday , METRO
SECTION: METRO / SOUTH TEXAS; Pg. 1B
LENGTH: 1270 words
HEADLINE: A home that shelters ; Battered women and their childrenmove to newly opened 10-acre haven
BYLINE: Analisa Nazareno
BODY: For much of his young life, Kay's son kept a close watch on his mother - telling her when to run, when to hide and where to go when her abuser came around.
The last escape brought them to the Battered Women's Shelter six weeks ago.
While Kay (not her real name) felt safe at the crowded, decaying red brick church, her 15-year-old son stayed alert. He took the top bunk with the best window view of the neighborhood south of downtown San Antonio, and kept his watch.
His guard stayed up until Friday, when the shelter's 60 residents moved to their new home of limestone and fresh pastel paints on nearly 10 acres of isolated land on the West Side.
The teen-age guardian rushed past the new shelter's brightly colored playground, the green gazebos and the grassy field, picked up a basketball and headed for the hoops.
"Your son becomes your guardian and you worry," said Kay, who endured beatings from her children's father that caused her to go deaf in one ear. "He was never allowed to just be a kid, and now he's playing basketball."
Just before moving, Kay and her housemates rushed to pack their few belongings in plastic bags and moving boxes. They mopped and scrubbed the 73-year-old building for the last time. They piled into old trucks and aging Dodge vans.
Cranky and cramped on their road trip, they didn't know where the new shelter was and how the overstuffed couches, a baby grand piano, 26 security cameras and fine artwork could possibly bring them a sense of comfort and security.
"This feels like some kind of vacation resort," one woman said, after pulling into the parking lot of the new shelter.
"I feel at peace here," said another after going from room to room, examining the nursery, the child care center, the TV rooms and the clinic.
"It's a little strange, because it's so new and it's different," said a mother of two. "But, I think I could feel at home here really quickly."
Together, throughout their first day in the new shelter, they smiled as they walked the halls, and cried as they remembered their reasons for being at the shelter.
The 18-year-old mother of two came from Mexico a month ago to be with her husband in San Antonio, only to learn that he had turned into an abusive alcoholic. She moved to the shelter last week after he took a knife to her.
The woman with a severe disability resulting from childhood polio finally, at the urging of her 14-year-old daughter, left the husband who punched out her front tooth.
The mother of six running from an abusive boyfriend and his gang friends turned to the shelter and not family members because they, too, were drug dealers.
"It feels good knowing that people care enough to do this for women who need this," said one woman. "It's a soothing place."
The shelter's director and board members worked to get space in the new shelter for a health and dental clinic and a three-classroom school. Crowded conditions and inconveniences, they said, pushed some women out of the old shelter's doors and too often back into the arms of their abusers.
During particularly busy periods, up to 11 people would stay in rooms with six beds. Sometimes up to 100 residents would stay in a space meant for 65 people. Women with teeth knocked out would have to take the bus to a dentist's office. And the women's elementary school-age children would have to face the difficult question: "Where do you live?"
"A shelter is a wonderful place. It's a safe place and a place that battered women need in a time of crisis," said Joyce Coleman, the executive director for Family Violence Prevention Services, which operates the shelter. "But there are many other issues and many other needs that they have that need to be met in order for long-term change to occur."
They need time to heal, a place to do so in peace, the opportunity to plan their new lives, and the chance to learn the skills that will help them achieve that new life, she said.
Friday's move, Coleman said, symbolized the community's growth and evolving sophistication when it comes to the issue of domestic abuse.
"When we first started, there was no available literature on spousal abuse," said the Rev. Don Baugh, who helped found the shelter as the executive director of the San Antonio Community of Churches 25 years ago. "No one had really studied or written about the problem. Today there are whole libraries."
The San Antonio Express-News owns the copyright to this story. For a full copy of this story, e-mail Analisa and she will send you a clip via e-mail or snail mail.
LENGTH: 1270 words
HEADLINE: A home that shelters ; Battered women and their childrenmove to newly opened 10-acre haven
BYLINE: Analisa Nazareno
BODY: For much of his young life, Kay's son kept a close watch on his mother - telling her when to run, when to hide and where to go when her abuser came around.
The last escape brought them to the Battered Women's Shelter six weeks ago.
While Kay (not her real name) felt safe at the crowded, decaying red brick church, her 15-year-old son stayed alert. He took the top bunk with the best window view of the neighborhood south of downtown San Antonio, and kept his watch.
His guard stayed up until Friday, when the shelter's 60 residents moved to their new home of limestone and fresh pastel paints on nearly 10 acres of isolated land on the West Side.
The teen-age guardian rushed past the new shelter's brightly colored playground, the green gazebos and the grassy field, picked up a basketball and headed for the hoops.
"Your son becomes your guardian and you worry," said Kay, who endured beatings from her children's father that caused her to go deaf in one ear. "He was never allowed to just be a kid, and now he's playing basketball."
Just before moving, Kay and her housemates rushed to pack their few belongings in plastic bags and moving boxes. They mopped and scrubbed the 73-year-old building for the last time. They piled into old trucks and aging Dodge vans.
Cranky and cramped on their road trip, they didn't know where the new shelter was and how the overstuffed couches, a baby grand piano, 26 security cameras and fine artwork could possibly bring them a sense of comfort and security.
"This feels like some kind of vacation resort," one woman said, after pulling into the parking lot of the new shelter.
"I feel at peace here," said another after going from room to room, examining the nursery, the child care center, the TV rooms and the clinic.
"It's a little strange, because it's so new and it's different," said a mother of two. "But, I think I could feel at home here really quickly."
Together, throughout their first day in the new shelter, they smiled as they walked the halls, and cried as they remembered their reasons for being at the shelter.
The 18-year-old mother of two came from Mexico a month ago to be with her husband in San Antonio, only to learn that he had turned into an abusive alcoholic. She moved to the shelter last week after he took a knife to her.
The woman with a severe disability resulting from childhood polio finally, at the urging of her 14-year-old daughter, left the husband who punched out her front tooth.
The mother of six running from an abusive boyfriend and his gang friends turned to the shelter and not family members because they, too, were drug dealers.
"It feels good knowing that people care enough to do this for women who need this," said one woman. "It's a soothing place."
The shelter's director and board members worked to get space in the new shelter for a health and dental clinic and a three-classroom school. Crowded conditions and inconveniences, they said, pushed some women out of the old shelter's doors and too often back into the arms of their abusers.
During particularly busy periods, up to 11 people would stay in rooms with six beds. Sometimes up to 100 residents would stay in a space meant for 65 people. Women with teeth knocked out would have to take the bus to a dentist's office. And the women's elementary school-age children would have to face the difficult question: "Where do you live?"
"A shelter is a wonderful place. It's a safe place and a place that battered women need in a time of crisis," said Joyce Coleman, the executive director for Family Violence Prevention Services, which operates the shelter. "But there are many other issues and many other needs that they have that need to be met in order for long-term change to occur."
They need time to heal, a place to do so in peace, the opportunity to plan their new lives, and the chance to learn the skills that will help them achieve that new life, she said.
Friday's move, Coleman said, symbolized the community's growth and evolving sophistication when it comes to the issue of domestic abuse.
"When we first started, there was no available literature on spousal abuse," said the Rev. Don Baugh, who helped found the shelter as the executive director of the San Antonio Community of Churches 25 years ago. "No one had really studied or written about the problem. Today there are whole libraries."
The San Antonio Express-News owns the copyright to this story. For a full copy of this story, e-mail Analisa and she will send you a clip via e-mail or snail mail.
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