The Need Is Huge

Hope Shores Alliance creates the community that survivors need.

When I walked through the door at Joshua Tree Yoga Studio in Alpena, I entered a state of calm. The room was filled with soft light, plants, and chattering women. Hope Shores Alliance Director Valerie Williams greeted me and introduced me to the crew. The women were all survivor advocates and systems workers who’d arrived for our roundtable discussion about domestic violence. Despite the difficult subject matter, I felt a lightness in the air.

Hope Shores Alliance is a community-supported organization that provides advocacy for victims/survivors of domestic and sexual violence in Alcona, Alpena, Iosco, Montmorency, and Presque Isle Counties. They offer a 24-hour helpline, counseling and support groups, emergency and long-term housing, financial assistance, thrift stores that provide free items to survivors, education programs, and advocacy. Each woman in the room was connected with Hope Shores through her job or volunteer work.

Valerie had ordered a family-style lunch from a local restaurant, so we loaded up our plates and sat down together at a big table. We munched on chicken wraps and Thai salad, while talking about the challenges of nonprofit fundraising.

“Fundraising is interesting in a rural community,” said Valerie, and the group broke into laughter. They described running a motorcycle fundraiser where folks motored up, drank beer, and bid on auction items. It was successful, but it was too time-consuming to justify the staff hours as a regular event. With just one physical location and a large service area, Hope Shores is already at max capacity providing direct service. “We’re stretched really thin…and the need is huge,” Valerie said.

I asked the group about the types of abusive relationships they typically encountered. They described a wide range of behaviors–psychological, emotional, financial, physical, and sexual. “I think a lot of people assume, ‘oh, it has to be physical violence’...but it’s so much broader than that,” said Adrianna Gumtow, Emergency Services Coordinator.

It was the same thing I’d heard over and over again from frontline advocates and systems workers across Michigan: abusive relationships don’t always involve physical violence. This means the scope of the problem is much larger than people realize. It’s also why funding for advocacy and education is so important.

Our conversation drifted to the social structures that normalize abusive relationships in communities. Hope Shores Board President Tammy Meredith pointed out that the United States was originally formed as a patriarchy in which women and other demographic groups had fewer civil and human rights than white men.

“When I was in high school, it was still legal to rape your wife,” said Tammy. “My grandmother was born without the right to vote. My mother could not get birth control without permission–written permission from her husband. So, if you think about all the things: our entire culture is designed to preserve an atmosphere where it's okay for people to be violent, especially men.”

Alyssa Miller, an Assistant Prosecutor at the Alpena County Prosecutor's Office, added that families can also replicate cultures of violence against women. “Yesterday we had the perfect example at court,” she said.

She described how a woman had prosecuted her partner for domestic violence–including years of death threats and strangulation. The man’s family watched the testimony. “And then after court, after they heard all of that stuff…they actually stalked the victim after court and chased her down the road in their truck, and were harassing her for having brought it forward,” she said.

As Alyssa spoke, I thought about how everything was related: funding shortages, covert abuse, systemic patriarchy, and family dynamics. Without education and advocacy, the social structures that enable violence will keep enabling it. It takes a community of changemakers to disrupt and rebuild deeply embedded systems. And those changemakers need funding.

Our conversation went deeper into the nature of violence against women, and our group became more somber. Everyone had seen and experienced something devastating. Each person in the room understood what it meant to hold space for trauma, over and over again. It was hard, gritty work.

I asked the women why they kept showing up in such difficult spaces. What inspired them to throw their time and hearts into this arena?

We went around the circle one by one, and each person shared a story. The women described how meaningful it was to be there for someone who needed them. They talked about how powerful it felt to participate in a social movement that spanned generations. And they shared a sense of collective responsibility: to keep survivors safe and hold perpetrators accountable.

As each person told their story, the whole circle cried, laughed, and empathized. I sat there, mesmerized. Many of these women were themselves survivors. They had been through something terrible and came out the other side. Now they were holding a light for those who were still stuck in darkness. And they were doing it together, as a community.

When our time was up, I got back on my bike and pedaled toward my next destination. As I rode, I thought about what Valerie had said at the beginning of our conversation: “The need is huge.”

It is. And that’s what makes the strength and courage of advocates so remarkable.

Special thanks to the Hope Shores Alliance team and supporters who participated in our roundtable discussion:

• Bonnie Wirgau, BSN, RN, Associate Director
• Delaney Ellis, Advocate
• Mikayla Ranger, Advocate
• Carley Dean, Advocate
• Zoie Moon, Supportive Housing Program Manager
• Kelly Bernau, Services Assistant
• Alyssa Miller, Assistant Prosecuting Attorney
• Kelli Lehman, Advocate
• Tammy Meredith, PhD, Board of Directors President
• Valerie Williams, Director
• Cynthia Muszyński, Alpena County Prosecutor
• Nichole Robarge, Supportive Housing Coordinator

Special thanks to Joanna Cooper for letting us gather at Joshua Tree Yoga Studio.