The Fort Smith Crisis Intervention Center is a haven of warmth for those left most vulnerable.
I was naked, and you covered me.
—Matthew 25:36
We all come into this world the same way: naked. Yet most of us only stay that way for a moment. Doctors and nurses quickly swaddle us and hand us to our mothers, who, no doubt, have the perfect first outfit picked out for us. As we grow, we don dresses, costumes, cleats, baseball hats, jewelry. At the moment we are born we have nothing, but each day we are blessed with an ever-increasing abundance of things.
Some, however, find themselves back at that first moment of life with nothing. Victims of domestic violence, family violence, sexual assault, trafficking, and stalking experience a nakedness not just of the body. Emotionally stripped of their safety and dignity, they are often left bare and alone. The basic items we use every day—clean clothes, a fresh towel after a shower, soft sheets on our bed, warm house shoes on our feet—are all luxuries left behind by those fleeing from violent situations.
Yet in a small Arkansas town, tucked behind an Atwoods and used car dealership, is a haven of warmth for those left most vulnerable. Staffed 24/7 with care team members who sit alert next to the hotline phone number, the Fort Smith Crisis Intervention Center (CIC) is available any time of the day or night to welcome these endangered individuals into the safety of its locked gates and secured doors, away from noise and pain.
A 41-bed emergency shelter, the CIC serves 12 counties with a total of 336,052 residents (11% of the state population). The clinic is one of only three medical forensic exam clinics in Arkansas. While some counties have hospitals that offer medical forensic exams, Fort Smith does not, leaving the CIC as the primary provider of resources for sexual assault victims needing immediate examination. When an adult finds themself in one of the five victim categories (domestic violence, family violence, sexual assault, trafficking, or stalking), their closest and oftentimes only ally is this emergency shelter.
Crisis Intervention Center president Penni Burns explains that these individuals, of whom 80% are women, are scared when they arrive. Some have been transported to the clinic by law enforcement and some have found their way to the gates by following the meticulous direction and coaching of the hotline. However they make their way inside the security of the gated building, when they walk in to begin their exam, they are terrified of the unknown. Often required to hand over their clothes to the crime lab, they find themselves back in that most vulnerable of states: naked.
But like the newborn’s mother ready to wrap her child up, the CIC rushes to the side of a victim with resources in hand, ready to encircle them with care and consolation.
Not only is a victim provided a private exam room, trained sexual assault nurses, medical examination kits, such as a rape kit, and a personal sexual assault response advocate (SARA) whose job is to support and speak up on their behalf, the CIC ensures each person is given a brand-new set of clothing.
Clothing the naked: the daily mercy poured out by the shelter.
Penni sees firsthand the impact of this seemingly small gesture. “We offer anything we can that might be soothing to the victim in that moment. When they hand over their clothing, we have brand-new shirts, shorts, underwear, bras, socks, and shoes ready for them. We only give victims brand-new clothing after exams. They have been stripped of their dignity and may come into the clinic with nothing. So, to be handed clothing that is now theirs to own is powerful,” she explains.
From here, the deeper care begins. Victims shower, change, and are fed. All the while, the staff handle the next steps: safety planning, establishing one-on-one case management, determining legal advocacy, child care, and more. Those fleeing domestic violence—the largest population that the CIC sees—often arrive with no form of identification, no money, and without any of their necessary medication. As the CIC begins coordinating new ID forms and works with partners that help write new prescriptions for essential medication, the victim attempts to settle into their temporary home.
In many ways, this home looks like one that a newborn baby arrives to—one that says, “We prepared for you, all your needs will be met here.”
It’s humbling—this moment an adult is so dependent on the care of another, clinging to their new family the way a baby clings to its parents. The CIC is an adult emergency shelter, so those under 18 arriving alone can enter the building but must be released to law enforcement and DHS for protection and placement. However, about half of the adults entering the shelter have children. These children stay united with their parent and receive the entirety of care that the adult receives. Imagine the relief a mother feels when she takes those first steps, children in hand, into the room with a locked door, away from the tempest behind her.
Fleeing families are given a room together, nutritious food, clothing, essential toiletries, and diapers. Comfort items like toys and books, a locker to store any belongings they arrived with, blankets, and more live in a resource room stocked by local donations.
Because the population it serves is so vast, the CIC’s 41 beds are almost always full. There is no maximum stay at the shelter. So long as a victim is in a state of emergency, meaning no safe place to go, the CIC will house them, whether that's for one hour, one day, or one hundred days. Throughout this time, staff advocate for their needs and help build a plan of recovery. From job applications to affordable housing applications, assistance with food stamps, therapy, court orders for protection, and more, the CIC tasks itself with clothing the entirety of the victim and addressing their every bodily need.
Despite the abundance of care offered inside the safety of the CIC building, there are many who will never make it there and remain in perilous situations.
“It’s really hard for someone to leave an abusive situation. Many people don’t come in on the first call, so we talk them through the process of what’s next. They have been controlled for so long, that we never coerce them to do anything. Their freedom of choice has been taken away so by giving them their options and allowing them to decide, we are slowly helping them build the courage they need to leave.”
The CIC offers the same motherly care that residents of the shelter receive through their national 24/7 crisis hotline. When someone calls, a trained crisis advocate is ready to provide support and information. They carefully help a victim craft an escape plan, including how best to begin gathering items like a birth certificate or a spare car key that can be used to flee. “If you do choose to leave,” the advocate advises, “you may try to start slipping two pills away at a time when you take your medicine. An abuser is less likely to notice a few extra pills gone, but may notice the whole bottle missing.” Another might encourage careful thought by asking, “Do you know where a spare car key is? If not, do you have a trusted neighbor that you can be ready to go to if you choose?”
Advocates may teach a victim the signs of escalation so they can be informed about the patterns of abusers’ behavior or call law enforcement on their behalf. Trained advocates also gauge the severity of the situation by conducting a lethality assessment, also known as Laura’s Law, a set of questions to evaluate their risk of being killed by abuse, named after three Arkansas women, each named Laura, who were victims of domestic violence. Questions like, “Are you in a place where you can speak freely?” and “Can you tell me if the abuser has any weapons?” help an advocate understand the severity of the situation and allow them to tailor their advice to each victim. Laura’s Law also dictates that law enforcement responding to a domestic violence call hand out “Laura’s card,” an informational card with resources for help, including the information of the Fort Smith Crisis Intervention Center. A small token with life-saving power.
As the only federally qualified agency in a 12-county area, the Crisis Intervention Center's reach is unparalleled. Last year, the CIC served 650 people with shelter, exams, and resources and answered 1,400 hotline calls. Each contact is given some article of emotional clothing—a voice on the phone saying, “You’re not alone,” a kind presence next to them during an exam, a welcoming face as they walk through the door—slowly building a wardrobe of encouragement.
When violence strips its victims leaving them exposed and vulnerable, the Crisis Intervention Center is that maternal comfort that offers a gentle embrace and wraps bare bodies in a blanket of hope.
