Winner of the Fight Against Domestic Violence Scholarship

Matthew Radicia

In his essay, Matthew explains that combating domestic violence requires resources that address the well-being of the whole person. He also shares that implementing more preventative measures can help foster a culture of support for those at risk of domestic violence. Congratulations, Matthew, and we look forward to all you will accomplish!

Read Matthew’s essay here:

We inherit more than just our parents’ genes; we inherit their pain. Domestic violence is not a moment in time, but a chain—a vicious cycle, a deep imprint on the human psyche passed epigenetically from one generation to the next, like a curse we cannot see, but we feel its weight. In the United States today, millions carry this weight, unknowingly contributing to a cycle of hate and pain that compounds with each life it touches. The victims of domestic violence are not just those physically harmed; in this paradigm, everyone is affected—through autocatalytic processes the dominoes topple and fall onto each other, spreading a ripple effect of mistrust, insecurity, and fear that taints every interaction, every relationship. What happens behind closed doors reshapes entire communities.

In the U.S. alone, an estimated 1 in 4 women and 1 in 9 men experience severe intimate partner physical violence, sexual violence, or stalking; additionally, the annual cost of domestic violence in the United States is $8.3 billion. Statistics like these, while deeply troubling, barely scratch the surface. Beyond these numbers or lies the human reality of what domestic violence does to individuals, families, and communities. For every statistic, there is a person whose life has been irrevocably altered by fear, pain, and isolating helplessness. Strip away the percentages, the pie charts, the numbers—what remains is the life of an individual, often broken, left to navigate the aftermath of violence. Behind each hundred-thousandth of a percent is a little boy hiding in the cabinet under the sink or a mom taking beatings for fear that her leaving could lead to violence against her kids or or a young woman desperately covering bruises to protect her dignity at work, terrified that speaking up might cost her livelihood. It is a teenager who can't focus in school because the arguments at home never stop, or a father ashamed to ask for help, fearing judgment and disbelief. Each instance represents a person—someone whose childhood was stolen, whose trust was shattered, whose potential was crippled by the toxic environment of abuse. These are not just stories; they are lived realities, endured in silence and shame—a silence louder than any scream, one that echoes through their life, each day marked by the fear that no one will listen, no one will believe, and each one calls for urgent action to break this cycle of pain.

To combat this, a framework that aims to care for the whole person must be implemented. Practically, this means ensuring immediate safety and subsequently the victim’s long term healing journey as well as affirmation of their autonomy. Outside of care for the direct victim, preventative measures to establish a culture of support is necessary to truly repair our broken communities from the ground up.

Specifically, to better provide immediate safety, federal legislation requiring automatic no-contact orders as a condition of bail in domestic violence cases, as done in Connecticut, should be implemented to prevent further harm during the completion of the legal process. Additionally, creating simple, widely accessible means to financial independence temporarily through emergency funds or shelters as well as long term via education on budgeting, credit repair, and job training are vital resources to allow victims to escape their current situation. While some programs (such as Allstate Foundation’s Moving Ahead) exist, more widely accessible services for those in rural areas or without internet need to exist, not just as an after fact to domestic violence but as an ingrained part of the education system to provide empowerment (especially to women) via financial know-how.

But healing is about more than survival—it’s about reclaiming one’s identity, one’s sense of self. Therapy provides survivors with the tools they need to break the emotional chains that bind them to their trauma. To accomplish this, therapy acts as the ultimate pathway to forgiveness, not for the sake of the perpetrator of such heinous actions, but to free the victim and their loved ones of the intergenerational and contagious pain.

For me, therapy was a lifeline after years of living under my “father’s” abuse. My family carried the weight of those years, but the support we found in therapy helped us rebuild. Through therapy, I learned not just to cope, but to reclaim my sense of self and begin healing from wounds that ran far deeper than physical scars. It was no longer just survival—it was the end of carrying the pain of my “father’s” actions and the panic attacks that accompanied it. An essential part of this healing process is making sure that survivors' voices are heard. Too often, victims of domestic violence are silenced by fear, shame, or societal pressure. Creating avenues for them to share their stories is not just empowering—it’s transformative. Community support through local organizations, social services, and grassroots movements can give survivors the courage to speak out, knowing they are not alone. At the same time, legal reforms are needed to ensure that children, who are often witnesses or victims themselves, have the right to testify in domestic violence cases. Allowing children to testify validates their trauma, helping them begin healing—something I was denied. Fostering environments where survivors are not just heard but actively cared for is not just a problem for nonprofits and organizations to deal with, it is the responsibility of every individual to contribute to a better tomorrow. To shift the cultural norms that allow domestic violence to thrive, we must start early. Early intervention programs can equip young people with the tools to build healthy relationships based on respect, empathy, and communication. By teaching conflict resolution, healthy communication, and bystander intervention at an early age, we can prevent future cycles of abuse from ever beginning. Something as simple as a 15-minute weekly conversation between students and school-provided therapists can give children a safe space to express their emotions and concerns, and recognize unhealthy dynamics before they escalate while simultaneously further destigmatizing therapy. When voices unite, the echoes of pain transform into a chorus of strength.