Editor’s note: This piece discusses child abuse and trauma. For free, confidential support and resources 24/7, call the National Child Abuse Hotline at 1-800-422-4453 or the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-4673.
When I was navigating the aftermath of my own abuse, the hardest part wasn’t just dealing with what had happened to me. It was dealing with the system that was supposedly there to handle it. I remember the exhausting process of marching into the courthouse, only to find it wasn’t helpful. From there, I was passed to the local police, and eventually, to the Children’s Advocacy Center (CAC). I ended up dealing with the majority of my case completely alone. In a strange way, that isolation became empowering, but it was also incredibly discouraging to realize just how lonely and difficult the path is for a survivor.
When my case finally reached its end, I walked out of the district attorney’s office hearing a verdict that left me entirely heartbroken. The legal system didn’t deliver the justice I had hoped for; it just closed the file. At the time, I was too overwhelmed by the legal defeat to understand how impactful the support services available to me could still be. You learn very quickly that the legal process rarely gives you the closure you were promised, but the healing doesn’t have to stop just because a courtroom door closes.
That is why organizations like the CAC are so vital. Carol, the center’s executive director, explained that the original goal of a CAC was to stop that exact cycle of re-traumatization. Through a single, meticulously recorded forensic interview, the center aims to secure a child’s story on camera just once, shielding them from the torment of repeated interrogations across multiple agencies.
Even with a better process in place, the legal system itself remains a massive wall that most families run directly into. Many walk into the CAC expecting that a recorded interview means an automatic arrest or a courtroom trial. Carol has to regularly manage those heartbreaking expectations.
“We present a support system, but we can’t impact the law,” she said. “We don’t directly impact the DA’s office.”
The reality of how the law handles child abuse is stark. According to Carol, the district attorney’s office acknowledges that they only prosecute about 10% to 15% of these cases because it is incredibly difficult to convict someone without highly substantive, physical evidence.
The legal system isn’t built on the reality of trauma; it’s built on documentation. If an abuser is careful enough not to leave a paper trail, the system frequently walks away. For Carol, dealing with that fallout is the heaviest part of her day. “The toughest part of the job,” she said, “is watching when the system fails.”
The legal path hitting a dead end does not mean the recovery stops. When the law walks away, the center’s role shifts entirely to specialized, trauma-based therapy provided at absolutely no cost to the children. They utilize highly effective, measured modalities like Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (TF-CBT) and the Child and Family Traumatic Stress Intervention (CFTSI). They are even expanding programs to work with youth displaying aggressive behaviors, ensuring that trauma is treated before it perpetuates a cycle. These are the exact kinds of impactful services I didn’t fully comprehend the value of when I left the DA’s office heartbroken years ago.
However, the entities tasked with stitching survivors back together are facing their own quiet crisis. Federal funding cuts have begun to hit home, with the CAC recently losing $30,000 from one grant and $18,000 from another, vital funds that sustain baseline operations and payroll.
Ultimately, this isn’t just an institutional crisis; it’s a community one. Between a lack of resources and social stigma, advocacy centers are only reaching about 10% of children facing abuse.
“One of the most challenging things about this job is that people really are so uncomfortable with this topic,” Carol noted. “Nobody is up for that discussion. I wish the community would be braver. If adults aren’t willing to speak on this issue, then why would children come forward?”
When children do find the courage to speak, they are often met with denial from those closest to them. Yet, the data is clear: 98% of these children are telling the absolute truth.
Because the system is so discouraging for survivors, it is absolutely essential that we band together. Change starts with three simple steps. First, we must choose to believe survivors when they speak up. Second, we have to talk about this openly so children aren’t forced to carry the burden of shame alone. And third, we need to actively support the local nonprofits doing the heavy lifting where the system fails.
The CAC is hosting its annual fundraising breakfast this September, offering a direct opportunity for our community to show up, fill the funding gaps and invest in these life-saving therapies.
We can’t always fix the legal system overnight, but we can ensure that no child has to heal in the dark.
Casey Aubrey is a guest columnist, a survivor herself and an advocate for local trauma support networks. Feedback can be sent to caseyaubreyhq@gmail.com