A Prison-Based Program Interrupts the Cycle of Violence

When Cecilia Gonzalez told family members she had volunteered to share her life story with men in prison, they were shocked.
Gonzalez, 56, had spent most of her adult life recovering from the pain and trauma of childhood abuse and domestic violence. She has a loving family and a stable marriage of 25 years. Her family couldn鈥檛 understand why she would want to talk to the kind of person she鈥檇 spent her life trying to escape.
But for Gonzalez, sharing her story was a way to bring her healing journey full circle. After years of perseverance, she鈥檇 established herself as a community services manager for House of Ruth, a nonprofit organization based in Pomona, California. Every day, she helps survivors wrestle with similar challenges to the ones she鈥檚 faced.
When she received an invitation to speak at the California Institution for Men, a prison in the city of Chino, California, in August, she saw a new opportunity to help interrupt the cycle of domestic and sexual violence: talking directly with people who have caused harm.
鈥淚 know that change is possible,鈥 Gonzalez says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 good when somebody is able to tell you that a life without violence and any type of abuse in the home is possible.鈥
The panel was organized by a program called the Victim Offender Education Group. Founded by, the program provides rehabilitation activities for men at the California Institution for Men. The curriculum is grounded in principles of restorative justice, commonly defined as an alternative to punitive justice that promotes healing for the person who was harmed, the person who carried out the harm, and the communities they both belong to.
Although the group was not created specifically for people involved in domestic violence and intimate partner violence, it has increasingly focused on serving this population as it became clear that many program participants had committed these types of crimes, said Rev. Nora Jacob, a minister at Covina Community Church and program lead in restorative justice at the prison.

Jacob has been organizing education groups in prison settings since 2014 and has facilitated the rehabilitation of several cohorts of men who have committed a variety of crimes, including domestic violence and intimate partner violence. A two-hour session is held once per week and consists of a mix of readings and empathy-building exercises. Participants spend time sharing and self-reflecting on the decisions and circumstances that led to their incarceration.
鈥淧eople come out changed,鈥 Jacob says. At the introductory meeting, she tells participants: 鈥淲e are asking you to share as much as you鈥檙e willing to share, and we are going to ask about everything.鈥
Reconciling with hurt is something that Jacob has had to do in her own life. As a child growing up in upstate New York, she was sexually abused. 鈥淲hat I鈥檇 been told about God鈥攖hat a creator was real, that God had not seen or heard me when I cried out鈥 she could no longer believe, she says. 鈥淪o I rejected any kind of organized religion for a long time.鈥
Decades passed, and Jacob found herself married and living in Orange County, California. She then faced a crisis when her husband of 19 years suddenly passed away from a brain aneurysm. 鈥淥ne night I was contemplating suicide and called out to God鈥擨 didn鈥檛 believe in God鈥攁nd had a feeling of the Holy Spirit coming over and reassuring me.鈥
Jacob, a library services director at the time, joined the Disciples of Christ denomination church in her county. She eventually enrolled in Claremont School of Theology where she spent time with social justice activists. After graduating, Jacob trained at Insight Prison Project in the Bay Area to be a restorative justice facilitator and eventually secured her current position at the California Institution for Men.

鈥淚鈥檓 committed to restorative justice,鈥 Jacob says. 鈥淚 live differently because of restorative justice, and anything that can do that [kind of transformation] for a person I think is worth the pursuit.鈥
Restorative justice started gaining momentum among grassroots organizations in the 1970s, but it is not a new practice, as its roots are in Indigenous customs, such as talking circles. Restorative justice has grown in popularity for its, which is the likelihood that a previously incarcerated person will re-offend for the same crime. That鈥檚 what Jacob has seen among the men her program works with. Incarcerated individuals who take part in rehabilitative programs are less likely to reoffend than their counterparts who don鈥檛, according to by the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.
The Costs of Violence
Domestic violence refers to any type of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse inflicted on a person by their partner, family member, or cohabitant. Intimate partner violence is similar, but refers specifically to violence from a partner, spouse, or ex-partner. These crimes don鈥檛 just affect the victims and their families; they also have huge financial implications for society at large.
Intimate partner violence against women costs California $73.7 billion in health care, lost earnings, criminal justice expenses, and survivor support, which accounted for 2% of California鈥檚 gross domestic product in 2022 alone, according to . The study, which primarily uses data compiled from the, measures both the tangible and intangible costs of intimate partner violence. The study also draws on data from other sources, including the U.S. Department of Justice, the state budget, health care providers, the Centers for Disease Control, and many others.
, PhD, an associate professor at UC San Diego and principal investigator for the survey, said that while the price tag might be high, it only represents a fraction of these crimes鈥 negative impacts because of gaps in data collection.
Thomas gave some examples, such as lack of data quantifying the amount of time police spend investigating intimate partner violence, or more specific data regarding health care costs and the impact on survivors鈥 quality of life. 鈥溾奣his is not just costing taxpayers,鈥 Thomas says. 鈥淚t costs the people who have to deal with that violence quite dearly, both financially and in intangible ways.鈥
Breaking Cycles of Abuse

For the panel event, Gonzalez and other nonprofit advocates were paired with an education group member and filled the role of a surrogate survivor, someone who could tell their member how it felt to be the victim of domestic or intimate partner violence. The exercise represented the culmination of the members鈥 education and was meant to gauge whether each man could feel empathy for their surrogate survivor and remorse for the immense hurt they had caused others.
For the surrogate survivors, sharing their stories is potentially a cathartic experience, said Melissa Pitts, the chief program officer for , who also served on the panel. That鈥檚 because many survivors have never had the opportunity to address the people who caused them harm.
That鈥檚 what convinced Gonzalez to participate in the panel. She said she was initially skeptical of the idea. 鈥淭hen I thought about it and [realized] I鈥檝e never been able to face any of my attackers and let someone know exactly how I felt,鈥 Gonzalez says.
Pitts said that organizations like House of Ruth are increasingly interested in restorative justice practices, while remaining survivor centered. One motivation, she said, is that domestic violence is widespread, but carceral solutions typically don鈥檛 get to the root of the problem. For example, many people who cause harm are replicating abusive patterns they learned in childhood, she explained.
The need is widespread. 鈥淚f you go to the prison system, a corrections officer will tell you 90% of their caseload has experienced domestic violence growing up in the home,鈥 Pitts says. 鈥淎nd then you can go to an affluent community with lots of monetary resources, and they are experiencing domestic violence.鈥
One former education group participant at the California Institution for Men, who requested anonymity because of safety concerns, believes the harm he committed stems back to his traumatic adolescence. The participant was sentenced to 15 years to life in prison for a domestic-violence-related murder.
The man said he grew up in a household where violence was commonplace. Years of neglect and abuse carried out by his father, mother, and other adults in his life pushed him toward drugs and gangs, he said. The violence also distorted how he viewed relationships. 鈥淭he way that my mom, father, and stepfather talked about women led me to believe that you couldn鈥檛 trust women, and I carried that into my relationships,鈥 he says.
Once incarcerated at the California Institution for Men, the man began to meet other people in rehabilitation classes who had faced similar struggles. After connecting with Jacob and other advocates affiliated with the Victim Offender Education Group, he decided to apply. He spent the next few years in group restorative justice circles unpacking his pain and learning to accept responsibility for the violence he inflicted upon women and others.
The man said his life-changing moment came when, after years of therapy and reflection, he took part in a surrogate survivor panel. 鈥淗earing the raw emotions coming out of someone that had been a victim of a similar crime, it stirred up something in me which I had never felt, which was empathy,鈥 he says. 鈥淚 really started to realize the harm that I caused. Before, I always felt that no one cared about me, so why should I care about anybody?鈥
The participant was paroled over a year ago and is now involved in restorative justice advocacy, speaking to youth in juvenile hall. He also visits the California Institution of Men to share his story with those who are incarcerated. For him, being able to feel guilt and remorse for his past actions has been the key to genuinely turning his life around.
鈥淔or me, genuine change is remorse,鈥 he says. 鈥淚t changes who you are, so you don鈥檛 鈥 continue to harm people.鈥

For Gonzalez, participating in the panel didn鈥檛 go as well as she鈥檇 hoped. She said she left the event feeling like the incarcerated person she鈥檇 spoken with had more work to do, a sentiment she shared with Jacob afterward.
鈥淭he reaction I got from this individual wasn鈥檛 what I was expecting, so I walked out of there feeling a little confused,鈥 she says. 鈥淚 thought I was going to see the remorse. My expectation was to see something visual.鈥
Instead, the man didn鈥檛 say much and, according to her, didn鈥檛 appear to show empathy. Still, Gonzalez said she believes in the program鈥檚 mission and thinks the person she talked to can benefit from it.
鈥淓ven with the harm he鈥檚 caused, I feel he deserves to have somebody continue to teach him, whatever needs to be done for him to come to terms with how he has caused harm,鈥 Gonzalez says.
She also walked away feeling proud of the progress she鈥檇 made to date.
鈥淭he biggest thing I took [away] is that change is so powerful,鈥 she says. 鈥淓ven as a victim, it鈥檚 possible to become 100% a survivor and have full control.鈥
This story was produced in collaboration with the.
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Ricky Rodas
grew up in the San Gabriel Valley and is currently based there covering health equity issues throughout Los Angeles County. He received his bachelor鈥檚 degree from Cal State L.A. and his master鈥檚 from the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism. Rodas was previously a 2022 reporting fellow for KALW and covered immigrant-owned small businesses for The Oaklandside through a partnership with Report For America.
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