Court advocate musters courage to carry on after domestic violence hits home

Strength came to Cynthia Saldana in a dream.

In the dark, painful weeks following her husband’s murder in January 2016, she could barely leave the house, let alone carry on her work as a court advocate for victims of domestic violence.

But then the night after she arranged to have Catholic Masses said for her beloved husband of four years, Jorge Luis Villasenor (aka Santiago Garcia-Mendoza, a name he worked under), she said she had a dream that simultaneously comforted and nudged her back into life.

In it, she saw a bright light and what she said was Jesus Christ asking why she had not arranged to have Masses also said for her ex-boyfriend, the man who killed Villasenor.

"I felt God’s sadness and that made me sad," she said. "Right then, I knew what I had to do."

Last week, sitting in her office at the Crisis Center for South Suburbia, where she is a staff member of the center’s Court Advocacy Program, Saldana shared her story and called the comfort of her friends and colleagues "a blessing."

On March 4, she will be presented with the center’s annual Courage Award during its Heart to Heart Gala at the Hilton DoubleTree Chicago-Alsip. The honor recognizes an individual or organization that emulates selflessness, dedication and commitment to the CCSS mission under adverse conditions.

In their nominating submission to the CCSS board, Erika Hernandez, director of advocacy services, and the other CCSS court advocates cited Saldana’s ability to continue helping others through the legal and emotional throes of domestic violence while picking up the pieces of her own life.

"We are so inspired by our colleague’s strength and perseverance to go on with her life as a single mom of four children who depend on her for love and guidance and return to work full time," they wrote. "She is a true example of fortitude and courage under fire. We love her. We support her. She is our hero."

On Jan. 14, 2016, Saldana experienced the very outcome she’d worked all her adult life to help others avoid.

On that fateful day, her former boyfriend and the father of two of her children, came to her home and shot Villasenor several times on the family’s driveway in Bridgeview before fleeing. A utility crew working nearby was able to provide police with a description of the vehicle and a chase ensued, records show. The shooter led law enforcement south on I-57 near Peotone, where he crashed through some fences and came to a stop on a median. He then shot and killed himself, according to police.

Cynthia Saldana-Jorge Luis Villasenor

Cynthia Saldana and Jorge Luis Villasenor were only married four years when Saldana’s ex-boyfriend shot and killed Villasenor on the driveway of the family’s Bridgeview home.

Cynthia Saldana and Jorge Luis Villasenor were only married four years when Saldana’s ex-boyfriend shot and killed Villasenor on the driveway of the family’s Bridgeview home.

In a matter of minutes, Saldana, 36, had lost her husband and the fathers of her children to gun violence.

"In the beginning I asked what could I have done, what could I have changed," she said. "It was such a shock. I really didn’t see any visible signs or could have imagined that (her ex) was capable of something like this."

She said she’d believed her former boyfriend, with whom she’d had a 15-year relationship, had also moved on.

"I just don’t understand, I still don’t," she said.

Early on in her grief, the deeply devout Saldana said, Jesus came to her in a series of dreams, first asking her to pray for the man who caused so much anguish and then answering her question, "How is it I am surviving this?" with "Because you are filled with the Holy Spirit."

She said the dreams helped her see that although there is good and evil in the world, she should pray for both. The revelation, she said, has brought a sense of peace and the courage to continue with her work.

"I think with every suffering I have had, I have been better able to help others who are also suffering," she said. "So I do see this as a purpose."

Face of the issue

Saldana understood the turmoil of domestic violence long before her life was turned upside down by the death of her husband.

She recalled that as a child growing up in Summit, she endured many late nights hiding in closets and under the bed.

"I grew up in a home where there was a lot of domestic violence and alcohol abuse," she said. "Because of that we also suffered from poverty for some time. It was difficult. I totally understand the dynamics of domestic violence."

That includes what she said is often the biggest obstacle to healing: secrecy.

"As kids, we’d be up so late because of everything going on. We’d only get maybe three hours of sleep. But you hide everything at school. You still smile," she said. "Children seem to know they’re not supposed to talk about it, not supposed to show it. That, I think is the reason so many victims and abusers don’t get any help."

Cynthia Saldana Donna Bahsegel Vickroy / Daily Southtown

Cynthia Saldana will be presented with the Courage Award during the Crisis Center for South Suburbia’s Heart to Heart Gala. Saldana, a court advocate for domestic violence victims, lost her husband last year when her former boyfriend shot and killed him in the driveway of the family’s home in Bridgeview.

Cynthia Saldana will be presented with the Courage Award during the Crisis Center for South Suburbia’s Heart to Heart Gala. Saldana, a court advocate for domestic violence victims, lost her husband last year when her former boyfriend shot and killed him in the driveway of the family’s home in Bridgeview.

(Donna Vickroy / Daily Southtown)

Her goal, she said, is to, first, help victims understand they are not alone, and then, help them navigate the court system.

"It shouldn’t be a secret. It’s happening all over. In court, we see so many families torn apart, but there are so many more who keep it a secret. It’s sad, really sad," she said.

"Today, I make it a mission to help in any way I can. To help empower the victims and their children. By empowering the victim, you’re empowering the family," she said.

She encourages people in violent relationships to seek help not only for their own good, but for the sake of their children. Violence often becomes a cruel, vicious cycle, she said. She also advises people to beware of the red flags of a potentially violent relationship — jealousy, control, isolation. (More information is at the center’s website, www.crisisctr.org)

The aim of the courts, Saldana said, is to help the victims by getting help for the defendants, getting them to domestic violence counseling, to mental health and drug or alcohol screenings and treatment, if needed.

"I think it’s a great thing when victims decide to go forward. A lot of times they say they wish they had done this sooner," she said.

"The abuser needs to be held accountable," she added. And often once they are, they come back and tell the judge, "I didn’t think I would get anything out of this, but I did. It changed the way I feel," she said.

$9 million cut from domestic violence programs, Rauner administration blames ‘confusion’ John O'Connor

Illinois officials waited more than five months to alert dozens of domestic violence programs that their funding had been eliminated, an omission that has forced layoffs and other cuts at some facilities, according to interviews and documents reviewed by The Associated Press.No one knows — or is…

Illinois officials waited more than five months to alert dozens of domestic violence programs that their funding had been eliminated, an omission that has forced layoffs and other cuts at some facilities, according to interviews and documents reviewed by The Associated Press.No one knows — or is…

(John O'Connor)

"We have had respondents thank us for helping them see the effect their behavior has had," she said.

Saldana graduated Argo High School in three years, hurried by the fact that she’d a daughter at age 15. From there, she attended Moraine Valley Community College before moving on and finishing her degree at the University of Illinois Chicago.

"I had planned to major in psychology but I took a criminal justice class and totally fell in love," she said. So her degree is in both.

Her life has always paralleled her studies and career path, she said.

Though there were inklings that her former boyfriend could become violent, she said she did her best to curb the behavior, by making it clear she would not allow it.

After they broke up, she met Villasenor, whom she described as kind and joyful and always smiling.

"He truly loved me unconditionally," she said. "And I never got the chance to thank him for that."

Saldana said her faith gets her through the unbearable pain of the loss.

"I have always been very spiritual," she said.

Everyone, she said, has trials and pain and struggles. At the end of the day, she added, what matters is if you were able to help anyone else through theirs.

After her husband’s death, she said, there was a flurry of social media postings about it. "People were spreading lies, making really bad comments," she said.

It was tough for her not to respond, she said. "But then I thought of course the devil wants us to react and be angry and say hateful things back. But it’s not going to happen. I’m not going to create more damage. People can say whatever they want. I can’t change that. I can’t change what happened. But I have God with me and we’re going to move forward."

She said her friends and colleagues at the Crisis Center, at her church and in her community were a beacon of light through those dark days.

"They were awesome. They made meals, sent cards and made monetary donations. I know they were all praying for me," she said. "I appreciate every single hug and thought and prayer. They helped me tremendously."

And so now, she said, she hopes to return the favor to others in need of solace, comfort, direction.

Hope on the horizon

The National Coalition Against Domestic Violence estimates that 1 in 3 women and 1 in 4 men in the United States have experienced some form of physical violence by an intimate partner, according to its website. In 2014, almost 65,800 intimate violence incidents were reported to Illinois law enforcement.

Saldana said the numbers don’t reflect the complete picture. She said she suspects a lot of cases go unreported.

Though domestic violence can wreak havoc on a family, Saldana said happy endings do occur.

"A lot of time abusers get the help they need and the family comes back together," she said.

And every day, she said, she is a witness to courage. She cited an 8-year-old girl who recently offered to testify in court to help keep an abuser away from her little brother.

Sometimes, she said, the victims are shaking, sometimes they’re so scared they forget testimony.

Sarah’s Inn aims to help children feel safe after domestic violence occurs Erin Gallagher

Through the eyes of a child, domestic violence looks like a father crying, an angry sibling or a mother in pain — scenes Regan Murphy knows all too well, as the children’s programs supervisor at Sarah’s Inn, a comprehensive domestic violence agency in Oak Park.

“We’re trying to help children understand…

Through the eyes of a child, domestic violence looks like a father crying, an angry sibling or a mother in pain — scenes Regan Murphy knows all too well, as the children’s programs supervisor at Sarah’s Inn, a comprehensive domestic violence agency in Oak Park.

“We’re trying to help children understand…

(Erin Gallagher)

"Court can be very intimidating," she said. "But they’re so brave to pursue help. We advocate for them. We help prepare them and we stay with them."

Domestic violence, she said, is universal, affecting people of all income brackets, all ethnicities and all religions. Most times, the abuser is a spouse but sometimes it is an adult child or a stepparent or a distant relative.

"We’ve seen everything," she said.

The solution, she said, begins with shedding a light on what is often a dark, family secret.

"You can make changes. You can move forward," she said, holding up her own story as an example.

"I give myself to permission to feel the way I am feeling, to be sad, to go through the grieving process," she said.

"But, I also know I am not alone, that I am loved. And that makes a huge difference."

dvickroy@tribpub.com

Twitter @dvickroy

Our editors found this article on this site using Google and regenerated it for our readers.

Exit mobile version