Is District Attorney Brooke Jenkins Letting Abusers Walk Free?

Photo of Brooke Jenkins. Credit: www.brookejenkinssf.com/about

When I was twenty-two, my neighbor called the cops on my boyfriend and I because we were “fighting” again, in quotes because fight implies structure, a conscience, taking turns. An animal doesn’t fight off its predator. They’ll do anything to stop the process of becoming prey, and that’s what I did. I hit and scratched and kicked until he freed my scalp from his teeth. If you have survived domestic violence, you know “fight” doesn’t begin to cover it.

I could’ve put him away, especially when he violated Alameda County’s 5-day restraining order protocol for all domestic violence victims. Two arrests and a 5150 in under one week must be a record. But I grew up watching the long arm of the law slap my mom around whenever she tried getting my dad off her back. Rather than risk the chance of a zero sum reward, I gave my ex the option of extradition from Southern California for trial I wouldn’t pursue.

Things get desperate when you’re flat broke and rent is overdue. He mailed me a check and that was that. 

Why didn’t I leave?

I endured my boyfriend’s abuse for more than a year. After his arrest, not one soul accused me of staying when I could’ve left. Women seem to get that accusation more often for some reason, even when facing similar ordeals. Isn’t it just as likely that a woman might fall in love with a kind, sensitive guy? Could it be that, terrified of his outbursts as she is, the threat of his suicide is scarier? Imagine being in the same situation. When your abuser makes you his sole caretaker, inevitably you stop taking care of yourself. 

You’ve heard it before: “He wasn’t always like this.” It sounds like denial, but here’s why it’s true. We don’t fall for abusers. We fall for funny people, people with ambition, goals and intelligence, softer sides and quirky hobbies—essentially, other people. He was just another human when we met, scarred by a hard past but friendly and future-oriented. If there were red flags, I don’t fault my younger self for missing or even ignoring some. Anyone with something to hide will hide it as long as they can. 

Constant fluctuation between peace and war (as well as all the making-up and tension-building that comes with it) installs an us-against-the-world mentality addictive as cocaine. It readily slips past your radar. By the time you catch it, you’re too invested in an image of him to reconcile that with reality, at which point even he can’t knock some sense into you. The police ended my first relationship, not me.

What does justice look like for domestic violence survivors?

Going to court is notoriously messy, and it’s no different for survivors of domestic abuse. Financial barriers to legal representation aside, taking your abuser to court has a poor success rate. Restraining orders don’t restrain shit, by the way. They merely threaten stricter consequences for inflicting the harm an assailant would inflict nonetheless. That’s if the courts give a damn. The American justice system is incontestably flawed, and that’s what made me write this piece. 

San Francisco City Hall, where weddings ideally lead to happily-ever-afters.

District Attorney Brooke Jenkins is letting abusers walk free.

Last week on my dad’s birthday, the SF Standard revealed that District Attorney Brooke Jenkins is letting abusers walk free. This startling news comes from the stack of old cases dismissed by her office, for offenses like assault and manslaughter. One man whose wife and child died because of a reckless driver is without recompense because the trial surpassed legal deadlines. Another case Jenkins’ office let fall through the cracks is that of a woman whose ex-husband threatened her with a knife. 

It’s hard enough for victims of domestic violence without the courts invalidating their experience. What the DA’s office is doing isn’t just reprehensible, it’s profoundly insulting. The woman whose spouse could have killed her has earned her right to legally sanctioned closure. Like she told the Standard:

“When I agreed to cooperate with the DA’s office, there were many times I wanted to give up because this was so triggering. But I decided to stick with it because I believed it was right. And I believed that the state would support me and bring some sort of justice to what had happened. Instead, I have been failed. You have triggered and re-traumatized me over the past year and a half for nothing. I will not get a day in court, and my ex-husband gets to walk away, knowing what he did and thinking he could do it again.”

An uphill battle for clients and counselors alike.

Inquiries into this gross mishandling of justice only resulted in the DA’s office, public defender’s office, and San Francisco Superior Court all pointing fingers at one another. The circle of blame would put off any good lawyer. Judge Anne-Christine Massullo hits the ball to District Attorney Brooke Jenkins’ office; Jenkins breathes fire at the judge while the public defender claims the number of cases dismissed should’ve been higher. What kind of counselor can secure justice for their clients in these conditions? 

I was too poor to afford an attorney, and a public defender seemed unlikely to take my case far. I could only file a full restraining order, a process so grating, I felt I was being mocked on paper. A dismissal would’ve zapped what little will I had to keep going. If the same thing happened to me here, twelve years later, Brooke Jenkins’ office would fail me. She is breaking people’s spirits by letting their cases expire. They have suffered horrors whose impressions may never expire.