Oliver williams
“We’re finding ways to respond to domestic violence that match the realities of the communities we’re serving.”
-Oliver Williams, director, Institute on Domestic Violence in the African American Community; professor, School of Social Work
Despite the languid summer feel of the University of Minnesota St. Paul campus, the Institute on Domestic Violence in the African American Community (IDVAAC) headquarters is hopping. It’s Friday afternoon, and Executive Director Oliver Williams’ St. Paul campus office is packed. A meeting is just breaking up between a handful of institute colleagues and a Somali woman in traditional dress. They’ve been exploring ways to best reach recent African immigrants with their violence-ending message.
“There is simply no ‘one size fits all’ approach to this topic whether we’re talking about the historic African American community or these newer immigrant communities,” says Williams, who is dressed comfortably in jeans and a program t-shirt.
This has been the organization’s refrain since Williams founded it in 1993. In fact, it may be the holy grail of his career—a vocation inspired by a peer’s experience with an abusive relationship.
When Williams first entered graduate school there wasn’t much research on family violence, much less how to best address the problem within specific cultural groups. Since then, the institute has delivered 18 years of hands-on work and research through a number of videos, conferences, and publications that promote culturally relevant and effective approaches to end abuse. Materials are distributed to facilitators of programs to support battered women or prevent teen dating violence and groups for men who batter, among others.
Direct accounts from survivors of domestic violence pepper the materials. However, there are also unexpected mediums at work here: theatre, music, and dance spread the word of change and healing. “We’re finding ways to respond to domestic violence that match the realities of the communities we’re serving,” says Williams with a warm smile in his eyes.
As our conversation starts to pick up momentum, his smart phone rings. Williams glances at the device and sheepishly admits he must take this call. I use the opportunity to glance around at his office filled with African art, storage boxes, family photos, and many awards and framed articles. In this small space I can’t help but overhear his call. There is affection in Williams’s voice as he proudly describes how the caller’s story was received at a recent conference. “It was moving to people,” Williams says.
When he’s finished, he plays a video segment on the office’s large flat screen. In it, I see the woman from the phone calmly talking of her middle class life with an upstanding husband. Inklings of jealousy and control issues emerge in a story that culminates in terror and gunfire. From there she begins a physical and spiritual healing process to free herself and her children from the abusive cycle. She is an IDVAAC success. Her story, along with 13 other videos, have reached upwards of 30,000 people, not including the institute’s well-attended conferences or the hundreds of thousands of website hits on topics ranging from fatherhood to diversity issues.
When asked how he deals everyday with these violent stories, Williams compares it to a religious calling. “I think about it as a commitment, a kind of faith you have in creating positive change in lives.”
Lucie B. Amundsen | June 2011
