California Family Court System
Dear Assembly Member Chris Holden, Vice Chair Megan Dahle and Committee Members,
Today, Piqui’s Law (SB 331 -Rubio) sits in the Appropriation Committee’s suspense folder. We briefly celebrated the fact that it did not die but we are not naïve; the suspense folder is where bills go to die. The suspense file is currently cradling the lives of California’s children - children's lives are literally dependent on this bill moving forward.
I would like to share my family court journey with you - to give you a small glimpse into the horrors of our court system.
In January 2009, my marriage came to an end. It was my goal to provide peace and stability for my children so I agreed to a “nesting agreement.” This allowed my daughters to sleep in their beds every night, and placed the burden on us, as adults, to switch homes on the weekends. When I proposed this arrangement, I did not fully understand the complexities of domestic abuse and that this decision put me at great risk.
As I started to find my footing and create a new life for myself, he started mentally unraveling. I went to visit my sister one weekend in Orange County and while I was gone, he stripped my entire house bare – taking everything I owned including the photos of my daughters that were hanging on the walls. Everything was gone - but these were just things, I told myself.
In that same manic state, he re-decorated my entire bedroom – replacing my Ethan Allen bedroom set with toddler furniture from IKEA. He strung pink boas around the room, there were tiny pink candles in the shape of apples on my new dressers and he created a photo collage of my childhood. The new toddler bed was neatly made with a child’s pink bedspread and adorned with fluffy pink pillows. On top of the bed, he left a book titled, “The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands.” It was chilling and terrifying to walk into this scene upon my return home. I knew I was not safe.
Fourteen years ago today (August 29, 2009), I woke to a series of terrifying voicemails from my (now) ex-husband, these voicemails totaled almost 5 minutes in length. Because of his mental state, I had removed the children from our home and we stayed the night with friends which pushed him over the edge. Those messages left me in fear for my life – for the first time in almost a decade, he knew he had lost control over me. Domestic violence is about power and control but when the relationship ends, that need for power and control does not dissipate…it often intensifies.
I sat on the edge of the bed that life-changing morning at 5:30 AM, listening to the messages, one after another… I was trembling:
10 PM: I am going to very clear with you. Its 10pm on Friday night. My daughters should be with me right now. If my daughters are not at my house…do you understand this…my house! I pay rent on. I own this house. It’s my house. Do you understand that? I will tell you right now that if my daughters aren’t sitting here at 8am in the morning during the time that I am supposed to be with them, you will be ruined in this community. 8am tomorrow…have my daughters here or you are DONE.
2:16 AM: Tina. There is currently a court order where my daughters are at MY home that I pay for from 10pm on Friday until 8am on Tuesday. The problem here is that you have not delivered my daughters to my house. I will be issuing an amber alert in the morning if my daughters are not at my house. I will be calling the police department if my daughters are not at my house. You are on thin ice, Tina. There is karma in this world and you will just have to deal with that. Do you understand that. They will NOT be influenced by you. You have until 8am tomorrow morning before your world completely collapses. I want my daughters at my house 8am tomorrow morning…Saturday morning.
2:32 AM: Tina- You are a white trash bitch. And I’ll tell you what Tina. I am going to file a restraining order and you will not be allowed back at this house. Do you understand that. YOU are a LOSER. Do you understand this? and I am going to prove it in court. You are a loser, you are white trash, YOU ARE WHITE TRASH!
On and on…he slurred, rambled and seethed…
Half asleep, I was trying to figure out what I should do and where I should go. My little girls were only two and four-years old at the time. While it was technically his parenting time, I was in fear for our lives.
I felt overwhelming desperation as I bravely made the call to my local women’s shelter. A very kind woman told me where to meet her so she could escort me to a safe house. In the moment, I felt like the ultimate failure as a mother. As we drove, I made a conscious decision to lie to my children: I told them we were going to a “special hotel” where it would just be moms and kids. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them what was happening, I felt like I was wide awake in a hellish nightmare.
Meeting with the attorney at the shelter left me feeling hopeless. My written declarations were placed on the chopping block, as she explained to me that I ran the risk of “annoying the court” by detailing everything that had happened. Every detail felt so important. I felt as though our lives were dependent on those details. She explained that I would only have five minutes, 10 minutes maximum to present my case. To decide the fate of my children, five minutes? I was sure that I must have heard her wrong. How could a family court judge decide whether my children were safe or not, in just five minutes?
Weeks later at the hearing, I requested that he have supervised visits – my request was denied. The judge chastised him for his anger issues but stated, “if this is the way you two are going to start your divorce proceedings, you are both crazy.” I was being faulted for his behavior and abuse – which was more painful than the abuse itself. All I cared about was the safety of my little girls. What I didn't know at the time was that on the day I received my family court case number, I was assigned my own personal terrorist.
Within 24 hours of the court order which granted me “exclusive use of the home,” my ex-husband violated the order and entered the home. I could not believe what I was hearing as law enforcement called it a “domestic issue” and deferred to the court. At the next court date, they did not hold him accountable. His rights to parenting time trumped my daughters’ basic human rights. My children were placed in danger time and time again, and my attempts to protect them were an annoyance to the court. I learned early on that we were merely case numbers and business transactions.
I was harassed and stalked for years but no one cared. I slept with a hammer under my pillow, jumping straight out of bed every time every time I heard a sound. The abuse I suffered post separation was more excruciating because it involved institutional betrayal. The systems that I was dependent on for protection were not only enabling him—they were fueling his reign of terror. Domestic violence agencies, law enforcement and CPS continued to give him the benefit of the doubt – at the expense of our safety and well-being.
Through all of this, I was forced to represent myself in court because I could not afford an attorney. For a decade, I endured countless hearings and two separate trials. We were in court 13 times in 2012 alone. On top of working full-time (sometimes two or three jobs), and being a full-time mother, I was my own attorney. Minor’s counsel was appointed but failed to protect my daughters. Numerous CPS investigations labeled my ex-husband as a “moderate risk,” but did nothing to protect them. There were over a dozen interactions with law-enforcement, two full child custody evaluations, and eventually, criminal court proceedings that spanned five years.
Like many victims of domestic abuse, I was not up against one unstable individual, I was facing an entire family riddled with dysfunction, addiction and abuse. My ex-husband lived with his parents and his older brother during our custody proceedings. My attempts to protect my children from my ex-husband was coupled with my attempts to protect them from his family, namely, his older brother. I had overwhelming evidence that my ex-husband was dangerous, and that his brother was equally dangerous. The family home where my children were court-ordered to visit, was a true house of horrors and my worst fears were validated in June 2016 when my ex-husband’s brother was arrested, caught in the act of molesting a four-year old little girl. In 2021, he (Jason Robert Porter of Paso Robles, CA) was sentenced to 280 years in prison. His youngest victim was only 10-months old– he filmed these horrendous acts and when he was arrested, a search warrant uncovered over 3 TB of child sexual abuse images and videos. This is the home my children were forced to visit as a result of orders handed down in San Luis Obispo County Superior Court.
This is family court in California.
I wish I could say that my story was an anomaly, that we just “fell through the cracks” of the various systems that failed us but that is not true. While each story is unique, the outcomes are all the same: children are being placed in danger, children are being murdered, children are being sent to reunification camps and children are experiencing traumas that will affect them for the rest of their lives…if they survive.
You will be shocked to know that we are considered the “lucky ones.” My children were finally protected, but most are not as lucky. As a result of the trauma I have endured, I now have a diagnosis of complex post traumatic stress disorder which has taken a significant toll on my health and well-being. The fiscal impact of trauma and adverse childhood experiences (ACES) for California is an astounding $112.5 billion dollars annually and is estimated to exceed 1.2 trillion in the ten years. Each and every minute, California children are experiencing trauma and ACES due to the state of our family court system. It is a crisis and it needs to be declared an emergency. While I know this is about money for the Appropriations CXommittee, how do you put a price tag on a child's life?
From the day I first stepped foot in the California family court system, my story never changed: my ex-husband was dangerous and my children were being abused. I don't wish this type of "validation," on any parent. Child safety should be common sense but it is not. Had Piqui’s Law been in affect when my children were victims of this system, they would have been protected much sooner.
We have judicial officer sitting on the bench with little to no training in domestic violence. I have spent over a decade sitting in court rooms cross the state, watching what is happening in California and you would be horrified by the stories I could tell you.
We need your help.
Please do not let this bill die in the suspense folder, please move it forward.
The lives of children are dependent on this important legislation.
Sincerely,
Tina Swithin
