College Writing

Battered Woman’s Syndrome is a
condition suffered by women who were abused by their partners for a length of
time. Throughout history women had been looked at as the weaker and inferior
sex. Women were at one point in time seen as property therefore domestic
violence wasn’t a crime. Women were responsible for cleaning the house,
cooking, providing a family and pleasing her husband, if she upset her spouse
he could legally beat her. Only in 1910 was wife-beating considered abuse. In
order for a woman to be considered to suffer from Battered Woman’s Syndrome,
she has to “experience at least two complete battering cycles” which
consists of “three phases: First the tension-building phase, followed by
the explosion or acute battering incident, then the calm, loving respite-often
referred to as the honeymoon phase” (selfdefense4women). The controversy
is whether or not Battered Woman’s Syndrome should be used as a defense in
court.

The syndrome was created to give some
reason as to why she killed her husband when he least expected it. In many
cases, the woman, having reached her limits, snaps and kills her husband by
poisoning, stabbing, or killing him in his sleep. In court she would be charged
for killing in cold blood because she wasn’t in a threatening situation at the
time. So in order to help these women, Dr. Lenore Walker created the term in
order to ease the sentencing. She says that women who suffer from Battered
Woman’s Syndrome, most likely suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)
and when triggered, can bring themselves back to the traumatizing event and in
turn feel threatened even when she is not.

There are four general characteristics
of Battered Woman’s Syndrome which are “1. The woman believes it’s her fault,
2. The woman’s inability to place the responsibility of the violence, 3. The
woman fears for her life and/or children’s lives and 4. The woman has the
belief that the abuser is omnipresent or omniscient […] There are many reasons
a woman would stay in an abusive relationship. Among them: reinforcement during
the honeymoon stage after being beaten, loss of self-esteem, women feel they
are the peacekeepers in a relationship, adverse financial consequences, threats
from the batterer to kill self or children, learned helplessness”(selfdefense4women).
It has been described that Battered Woman’s Syndrome is the “breaking down of a
woman’s self-confidence and self-respect to a point where she no longer knows
if she is crazy or not” (selfdefense4women). The reason most women won’t defend
themselves during a beating is because they have developed learned
helplessness. In an animal study scientists put a dog in an open cage with a gate
separating two sides. They then sent an electric current on the side the dog
was on and so he jumped over the gate and was then shocked on the other side,
after a while of this the dog finally learned there was nothing he could do and
just stayed where he was whether or not they were shocking him. In abusive
relationships the same method applies. The women learn that no matter what they
will be beaten therefore they don’t do anything about it. When the abuser is
not around they plan how to escape, in many cases the only way out is to kill
the abuser due to being threatened about leaving.

Many people don’t agree with allowing
Battered Woman’s Syndrome to be used in court as a defense because the women
killed when not threatened. In the case of Judy Norman who killed her husband
by shooting him in his sleep, she was convicted of “voluntary
manslaughter” because it was not in self-defense. “For a self-defense
claim, a defendant usually needs to face an imminent threat of death or severe
bodily harm, but defense attorneys have tried to argue that the prolonged
threat victims of domestic abuse face is in some sense imminent, even if they
are not currently being attacked”(Mathias). Judy Norman was in the end
convicted of voluntary manslaughter. She had endured twenty years of abuse
including being burned with cigarettes, being forced to prostitution, also her
husband made her eat dog food off of the floor. He treated her like an animal
and she felt her only way out was to kill him for fear of what he would do to
her if she tried to leave.

In the case of Aileen Wuornos, a
prostitute who killed 7 men over a years’ time, claimed she did so in self-defense.
She was then executed for her crimes after she admitted she was guilty,
stating, “I am guilty as can be. I want the world to know I killed these
men–as cold as ice. I’ve hated human beings for a long time” (qtd.Wuorns).
Her motives weren’t just to kill them, she was also robbing these men as well.

In the opinions of some, Battered
Woman’s Syndrome should be used to help women in such a situation where she is
being beaten on a regular basis and eventually snaps. In others, it’s just an
excuse to get out of trouble, that the women have many other options other than
killing their spouse. I believe that the syndrome should be available to the
women that need it for they really had no other way and for women like Aileen
Wuornos, should just be convicted for there was no evidence of abuse.

The Hipster Grifter

The author talks about a woman who seduces, manipulates and steals from men she profiles as trusting and naive. Her patterns are always the same and she uses the same name over and over again. She starts off by being very sexual towards a target, then draws them in. She starts stealing right off the bat before they can notice that she was the one taking things. She pretends to be pregnant and then leads into her “terminal cancer.” Eventually the men catch on and look her up only to find she is wanted on 6 different warrents. When she is found out she moves and starts over again.

2) Battered Woman Syndrome Defense

Sources:

a)The “Battered Woman’s Defense” Its History and Future

b)Battered Woman Syndrome

c)Is Battered Women’s Syndrome an Inappropriate Diagnosis for Self Defense Claims by Women Who Kill Their Husbands?

d)Battered Woman Syndrome

e)Battered Women’s Syndrome: Science or Sham?

Did Racial Tension Contribute to One Philadelphia Fireman’s Suicide?

The writer paints a picture of life as a philadelphia firefighter where even today there is still  a lot of racial tension among the men. One man,  Jack, was a target after taking a risque photo for a firefighter magazine where his higher up demoted him and made his life terrible. Jack was already dealing with the death of a fellow firefighter whom he was extremely close to, going through a divorce and now having been humiliated over a photo. A few months later, Jack’s father found him dead with a bullet in his head on his bedroom floor. His family is still dealing with the loss and wondering why he commited suicide.

I spoke to my uncle, who not only experienced bullying himself but also witnessed it with his brother and at the school he works at. As a kid , being new meant you’re in or out, in my uncle’s case, being new and Hispanic meant automatic target.

It was August 1983, my uncle was fourteen years old. After just moving to Massachusetts from Texas, the only person he could hang out with was his brother. One afternoon, they went for a walk to get more familiar with the area when they came across a deserted field. An idea formed and their new kickball field was born. After a few days, a group of kids walked up to them in the middle of a game. At first my uncle thought the kids wanted to join, but as they approached, he noticed the look of  anger on all of their faces. They walked towards his brother and gave him a shove asking why they were on their field. Before waiting for an answer they turned to my uncle taunting him to fight and that he was a chicken. Then they realized his nationality and the name calling began. The hatred welled inside of him and his hand began to clench into a fist, his heart started pounding preparing for the fight. As soon as his hand began to raise, his brother put a hand on his to lower it. He told him this isnt worth it and to walk away. They turned to go home all the while horrible names were yelled after them. That was the first time he knew what bullying was.

Bullying is a continuance of unwanted attention. It comes in many forms such as physical bullying, taunting, and the most recent form, cyberbullying. The reasons someone is bullied ranges from sexual preference, appearance, to how one acts. Bullying is the third leading cause of death among teens and young adults. Ina study, about 3.7 million teens engage in bullying acts and more than 3.2 millions teens are victims of bullying each year.

My uncle proceeded with his walk down memory lane as painful and dark as it was. Without his brother’s passiveness towards those who taunted and physically hurt him, my uncle felt he wouldn’t be in the profession he is in today which is a therapist. His brother taught him to choose his battles and not to bully others because of how much it effects others.

It was his junior year of high school and the bullying didn’t cease. He finally got sick of it and when he thought he was safe, he tried to bully one of his classmates who was overweight and as already a target. As soon as the insult left his lips,there was a smack on the back of his head. As he slowly turned to see who it was, he saw his brother behind him ready to yell at him for what he had done. It really sunk in then how badly making fun of someone really was. He apologized for what he had said and made a new friend.

Years passed and experience only molded him into the respectable man he is today. I proceeded to question my uncle about what he witnesses everyday in the high school. A particular incident had happened recently where a student felt she had to leave school due to the excessive bullying towards her. Her ex boyfriend told rumors about her which spread like wildfire. Walking down the halls was just as torturous as sitting in class and even being at home. The rumors said she was a whore and other awful things. It was her first year in a school after being home schooled her whole life and the students weren’t making it a good year. She finally left school and change her facebook because the bullying followed her there too. My uncle said it broke his heart having to lose a student as smart as her. He brought up a term Bullycide which is a suicide influenced by extreme bullying cases. It is becoming more common and teenagers don’t realize the effect bullying has on a person. Luckily my uncle has never had to lose a student due to suicide.

At the end of the interview, sitting in his green office surrounded by books and office supplies such as scissors, pens and a stapler he told me that by taking individuals both victim and bully, you have a better chance at ending the bullying. After listening to his stories, I learned more about my uncle, my role model and my hero. I learned that we can overcome our past, to use everyone’s doubts to an advantage and bullying can be overcome.

       Bullying is a continuance of inwanted attention. It comes in many forms such as physical bullying, taunting, and the most recent form, cyberbullying. The reasons someone is bullyed ranges from sexual preference, appearance, to how one acts. Bullying is the third leading cause of death among teens and young adults. Ina study, about 3.7 million teens engage in bullying acts and more than 3.2 millions teens are victims of bullying each year.

        I spoke to my uncle, who not only experienced bullying himself but also witnessed it with his brother and at the school he works at. As a kid , being new meant you’re in or out, in my uncle’s case, being new and hispanic meant automatic target.

         It was August 1983, my uncle was fourteen years old. After just moving to Massachussetts from Texas, the only person he could hang out with was his brother. One afternoon, they went for a walk to get more familiar with the area when they came across a deserted field. An idea formed and their new kickball field was born. After a few days, a group of kids walked up to them in the middle of a game. At first my uncle thought the kids wanted to join, but as they approuched, he noticed the look of  anger on all of their faces. They walked towards his brother and gave him a shove asking why they were on their field. Before waiting for an answer they turned to my uncle taunting him to fight and that he was a chicken. Then they realized his nationality and the name calling began. The hatred welled inside of him and his hand began to clench into a fist, his heart started pounding preparing for the fight. As soon as his hand began to raise, his brother put a hand on his to lower it. He told him this isnt worth it and to walk away. They turned to go home all the while horrible names were yelled after them. That was the first time he knew what bullying was.

          My uncle proceeded with his walk down memory lane as painful and dark as it was. Without his brother’s passivness towards those who taunted and physically hurt him, my uncle felt he wouldn’t be in the profession he is in today which is a therepist. His brother taught him to choose his battles and not to bully others because of how much it effects others.

    It was his junior year of high school and the bullying didnt cease. He finally got sick of it and when he thought he was safe, he tried to bully one of his classmates who was over wieght and as already a target. As soon as the insult left his lips,there was a smack on the back of his head. As he slowly turned to see who it was, he saw his brother behind him ready to yell at him for what he had done. It really sunk in then how badly making fun of someone really was. He apologized for what he had said and made a new friend.

       Years passed and experience only molded him into the respectable man he is today. I proceeded to question my uncle about what he witnesses everyday in the high school. A particular incident had happened recently where a student felt she had to leave school due to the excessive bullying towards her. Her exboyfriend told rumors about her which spread like wildfire. Walking down the halls was just as torturous as sitting in class and even being at home. The rumors said she was a whore and other aweful things. It was her first year in a school after being homeschooled her whole life and the students weren’t making it a good year. She finally left school and change her facebook because the bullying followed her there too. My uncle said it broke his heart having to lose a student as smart as her. He brought up a term Bullycide which is a suicide influenced by extreme bullying cases. It is becoming more common and teenagers don’t realize the effect bullying has on a person. Luckily my uncle has never had to lose a student due to suicide.

    At the end of the interview, sitting in his green office surrounded by books and office supplies such as scissors, pens and a stapler he told me that by taking individuals both victim and bully, you have a better chance at ending the bullying. After listening to his stories, I learned more about my uncle, my rolemodel and my hero. I learned that we can overcome our past, to use everyone’s doubts to an advantage and bullying can be overcome.

It started out with cutting during my sophomore year of high school. On the outside everything seemed to be going my way; good grades, great friends, steady boyfriend. Deep down though there was an unseen war inside of myself that stems back to my father abandoning me when I was five years old. He didn’t just abandon me, he messed with my head for years going from in my life one minute making promises he knew he couldn’t keep to disappearing for years at a time.

During my Junior year, I was hospitalized at Butler Hospital. Walking in, it seemed to be more like a prison with it’s grey walls and dark carpet. There were two sets of double doors both in which needed a pass key to open. I entered the huge room that was the kitchen/sitting area and nervously turned towards my mom to say goodbye. I felt like it was going to be the last I would see of her, and all I wanted to do at that moment was leave. One of the nurses approached me and took my bags so she could go through it to take out what was unsafe to have during my stay. My mother hugged me and told me she would be there every chance she could to visit, then she turned and left.

I waited for the nurse to come back with my things and to show me to my room so I could change into my pajamas for the night. After she returned, she informed me of the rules and what to expect the next day, I went to bed. Sleeping that first night was impossible, all I could think about was whether or not anyone would like me and how long I would be there. It felt like forever for the sun to rise when the morning staff did rounds to wake everyone up for medication. Everyone gathered in the sitting area to introduce everyone to each other and our goals to get better. To my surprise a lot of the goals and reasons were similar to my own. I felt slightly better knowing I wasn’t alone and had people who really understood what I was going through rather than those I knew who only tried to understand.

In the afternoon we had lunch which was brought in to us on a cart where we had to form a line to eat.

Afterwards, we once again met in the sitting room to do sense therapy where one of the staff women brought a cart full of objects that you touched such as things that were soft, bumpy, rough, squishy; things that smelled good and music that helped trigger certain feelings such as peace and to center ones self when stressed. It was a good technique to learn what helped calm you down and think more clearly when the feelings of self harm or suicide come on.

Later we had their version of school so we weren’t behind in our actual schools. They taught us the basic; history, English, math, and science. Then we had to chance to work on our own school work if it was brought to us by our parents.  Art therapy was next where can either do finger-painting,  drawing, or making beaded bracelets or necklaces.  That usually lasted an hour followed by dinner after we clean up. Dinner was also brought to us on a cart. We usually had visiting hours after and that was the time of day I couldn’t wait for. Even after a day it seemed like I hadn’t seen my mom in years. The hour we were given to visit wasn’t nearly long enough. After visiting hours were over we were allowed to do what we wanted before bed. I usually used that time to call my boyfriend if he didn’t visit that day. I missed my life outside those walls and I couldn’t wait to get out and vowed I would do whatever it took to leave even if that meant to pretend I was getting better. My week looked a lot like the first day only I got to know everyone there.

The weekend though was different. It was more leisure than work and there was no school which was great. I spent my weekend reading the several books I brought with me such as Loose Girl and Prozac Nation both which or two of the many books I enjoy reading over and over again. I actually got in trouble during the weekdays for reading so much. On the weekend though I was able to waste my day reading and waiting for visiting hours. That Saturday afternoon, I met with my actual doctor treating me. We were allowed after evaluation if we had been good, to go outside for a bit. She said my progress gave me the choice to go outside or stay inside. I chose to stay inside because I felt I wasn’t ready to go outside. When all the people who could go outside lined up, I just stayed behind. As I was reading, my doctor approached me and said since I stayed inside, I wouldn’t be able to participate in the free time and had to go to my room. That angered me to no end and found a broken pencil and cut my arms. None of the staff knew because I always wore my sweatshirt.

The following Tuesday, my doctor came to me and said I would be discharged and spoke to my mother privately when she came to get me only to later find out I was being discharged because I was “faking” my depression and didn’t need to be there anymore. The truth of the matter was I wasn’t faking being depressed, I was faking getting better. I pretended to be happy and  I hoped more than anything this doctor would finally see that. I was too uncomfortable to show how deeply I was hurting and how desperate I was to get help. To think that a professional who works with people who do really fake it to get drugs or attention, I thought she would know when someone was faking being ok.

It was the worst feeling in the world to be accused of lying about pretending to be hurt and the feeling of hopelessness reappeared as I left the hospital never looking back.

The Cowards of Christmas Eve

Around Christmas is when the crime rate rises and people get more stressed out. Police are called more around the holidays than any other time. Husbands and wives fight over money, how much or how little a gift was and are forced to spend time with each other without the usual excuses.

It started out with cutting during my sophomore year of high school. On the outside everything seemed to be going my way; good grades, great friends, steady boyfriend. Deep down though there was an unseen war inside of myself that stems back to my father abandoning me when I was five years old. He didn’t just abandon me, he messed with my head for years going from in my life one minute making promises he knew he couldn’t keep to disappearing for years at a time.

Eventually, my mother found out what I was doing when my school therapist saw the marks on my arms. She sent me to a regular therapist who then referred me to a nurse psychologist for medication. My depression worsened and my cutting went from just numbing the pain to actual attempts to ending my life. The medication I was on was doing a number on my brain causing the depression to get worse and my attempts to get more serious. This led to the first of a few attempts to overdose. Though the first couple of attempts didn’t require medical attention, my sanity was being questioned and was sent to Butler Hospital for mental health.

After a week they claimed I was faking and sent me home. The truth was after so many years holding all of my emotions inside, I became a pro at pretending I was fine. I just didn’t think I was so good as to fool a professional psychiatrist. Not long after, I tried again. My uncle brought me to the emergency room where they held me overnight for evaluation. In the morning they asked their routine questions such as, “Are you feeling suicidal today?” I said no and she said I could leave and walked away. Stopping her I protested saying this will happen again. She rolled her eyes and set me up with a partial program meaning I didn’t have to stay in a hospital. My first day there I realized it was a rehab for recovering alcoholics and drug addicts. The nurse didn’t take me seriously at all and didn’t care where I went. The doctor there prescribed me Valium and after a week I left.

By then I had lost a lot of my friends, was going from boyfriend to boyfriend, mainly sticking to one in particular. I was smoking pot and drinking. My relationship with my mom had spiraled into world war III and my cutting didn’t cease. My usual place to go to clear my head and cut was in the park down my street. Whether it was raining, sunny, snowing or windy out, if I needed to go there, I went. I was taking the valium more often than I should have and curiosity overcame me. On the internet, I looked up how many I would have to take to do myself in. I was just a few short, but I left suicide letters for the ones I loved then I went to my boyfriend’s house and gave him his letter personally and left. Sitting in my car I downed the bottle of Valium and just sat there in the silence. Finally reality of the situation took over and I called my uncle who rushed me to the hospital where they had to clear my system before any real damage could take place. As I looked around the room at all the people who love me, I realized how lucky I was to have them. I knew then that the pain inside would cease and happiness was right around the corner. Unfortunately they hospitalized me for a week and sent me on my way. I was lucky to have lived to know now how happy I can be.

Are you sure you want to quit the world?

On a suicide site, a woman named Li Dao friends those who are on the edge of committing suicide. She encourages those who are desperate to go, to kill themselves and details how they should. Making a pact, she promises to go with them. Then, she moves on to the next one after watching them hang themselves via web cam.

A woman named Celia Blay witnessed this going on and tried to inform police about this. Li Dao changed her name to falcongirl and then Cami. Blay contacted another woman named Kat Lowe who made herself appear desperate for a way out. After conversing with Cami, she found out through web cam, Cami was really a middle-aged man who made the mistake of using his real name, William Melchert-Dinkel. After numerous attempts to get police and FBI involved, Blay contacted someone in the united states who tells her to contact the Internet Crime Against Children task force. They wrote back saying they found the IP address in Minnesota and found William who was a disturbed nurse with many psychological issues. He is looking at 15 years for the assistance in suicide.