Legislature should fund victim advocacy programs

I recently sat at a lunch table surrounded by people who work in the field of victim advocacy. Plates were cleared, drinks refilled, and for a moment, everything felt warm and ordinary.

But the stories shared that day were anything but ordinary.

They were stories of people in our communities — people you pass in the grocery store or sit next to at school events — who have survived sexual assault, domestic violence, and child abuse. Stories of fear, resilience, and the long, complicated road back to safety. Stories that, woven together, form a tapestry of why victim advocacy services exist in the first place.

At the Crisis Support Network, we walk alongside survivors every day. We help them find safe housing, access medical care, navigate the legal system, and simply be believed. We help parents figure out how to keep their kids safe. We help people secure gas cards, food, cell phones — basics that become lifelines in moments of crisis. This work is intricate, emotionally demanding, and profoundly human.

It is also increasingly fragile.

The governor’s proposed budget includes significant shortfalls for victim services across Washington state. If these recommendations stand, programs like Crisis Support Network, Beyond Survival, and Domestic Violence Center of Grays Harbor will be forced to make impossible choices: fewer advocates available to answer the phone, longer wait times for help, reduced safe house capacity, and fewer resources for survivors who are already navigating a kaleidoscopic maze of trauma and systems.

These aren’t abstract cuts. They translate into a survivor calling for help and getting voicemail. A parent being told there’s a wait list for safety. A child waiting longer for support after abuse. In a rural community like ours, where options are already limited, the impact will be immediate and profound.

Survivors don’t experience violence on a budget cycle. Abuse doesn’t pause when funding is uncertain. The need for safety, dignity, and support does not disappear because spreadsheets say so.

I wish every policymaker could have been at that lunch. I wish they could have felt the quiet in the room as survivors’ experiences were shared, or the resolve as people committed to standing with them. Those moments remind us that this work is a crucible — where community values are tested and revealed.

We can choose to be a community that does not ignore people who need help. One that recognizes victim advocacy not as optional, but essential infrastructure for safety and justice. One that understands prevention, healing, and accountability are deeply intertwined.

I urge our legislators to reexamine these proposed cuts and fully fund victim services. And I urge our neighbors to speak up. Survivors are listening. Advocates are listening. And the choices made in Olympia will echo through our homes, our schools, and our lives.

The path forward is clear. The question is whether we will take it.

Julie Jewell

Executive Director

Crisis Support Network

Serving Pacific and Grays Harbor counties