Every year in October, Domestic Violence Awareness Month, DVSN holds its annual Light in the Darkness Candlelight Vigil. At this event, we honor the lives lost to domestic violence in Massachusetts over the past year by telling their stories and lighting a candle in their memory. DVSN has recorded the vigil each year since 2020 and put them online so anyone can view them at any time. Unfortunately, the recording of our 2024 Candlelight Vigil had some technical difficulties that have taken several months to rectify. However, these difficulties have finally been sorted out to the best of our ability, and the recording is now live and available to watch on the Candlelight Vigil page of our website, on DVSN’s YouTube channel, and embedded in this blog post.
The Vigil typically features a keynote speaker who shares their experience and expertise on a topic related to abuse. The speaker for the 2024 event was Kishana Smith-Osei, Executive Director at The Massachusetts Women of Color Network, which works to support and maintain the leadership of women of color working in the sexual assault and domestic violence movement in MA. Kishana spoke about her own experience as a survivor and related a recent incident where she almost lost a friend/coworker in a domestic violence shooting. She also discussed her work with abuse victims and what our communities can do to support them. Kishana’s powerful speech and expressive poetry were poignant and valuable, and we wanted to share them with our blog audience.

Read the transcription of Kishana’s words or watch her speaking at DVSN’s 2024 Light in the Darkness Candlelight Vigil from minutes 4:15 to 20:00 in the recording below. Watch the full video to also hear the stories of the 33 lives lost to domestic violence in MA from October 1, 2023 to September 30, 2024.
“Hope Shines a Light” by Kishana Smith-Osei
Good evening, everyone. Thank you for being here with us this evening. This gathering, as we celebrate and honor the lives of the 33 individuals lost this year. That number is profound. In 2023, we lost 22 people to domestic violence related homicides and 19 people the year before. These numbers were reported in the Jane Doe Inc. Annual Lethality Report, and these numbers continue to drive my work.
As shared earlier, my name is Kishana Smith-Osei. I am a domestic violence advocate and have been for the last 14 years. What drew me to this work was my personal experience of being a childhood survivor of sexual abuse. The abuse lasted for seven years, from the age of 11 to the age of 18, when I was able to leave for college. And many would ask, “Why so long? Why didn’t you speak up about the abuse?” The abuser was my aunt’s boyfriend, and I was raised by my aunt, so I lived in the home. He threatened me many times and said that if I tell, he would kill me, and kill my family. So that’s why I kept it.

So, it started at age 11. The first person I told was my friend in high school, when I was 16 years old. I shared with her that he would fight with me at night. When my aunt would go to bed, he would sneak into my room. And it baffled me for many years how no one heard the ruffle and tuffle throughout the night until I became wiser and realized that my aunt may have heard it, but maybe she didn’t feel bold enough or courageous enough to deal with the issue. Maybe she didn’t have the words to say. Maybe she didn’t have the cultural background to deal with something like that. Because where I’m from, what happens at home stays at home. And if we revealed this, it certainly would not have stayed at home. So, of the 33 names that will be honored tonight, my name could have easily been one of them.
As we read each name tonight, we do so with reverence, each as a reminder of the strength and fragility of life. Each represents not just a tribute, but, I hope, a vow that when we leave here this evening, we will continue to be active bystanders in our community. That we will be advocates. That we will be great at our jobs because that’s how we save lives.
Domestic violence has various definitions. Some know it as a pattern of abuse, a pattern of power and control, when someone is doing things to gain power over someone else. It takes many different forms. There’s financial abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, use of someone’s immigration status, use of children. Some examples include, maybe a transgender person calls the hotline and says, “I was just beaten at the train station, and I need support to create a safety plan.” Another form could be a mom calling the hotline and saying that she’s experiencing financial abuse. Maybe she doesn’t name it that way right away. Maybe she says, “My husband takes my paychecks and gives me $30 a week for allowance.” Without money, there’s not much that you can do. And so, this tactic of abuse keeps the person in isolation, keeps the person wondering, “If I leave, how will I care for myself? If I leave, how will I care for my family?”
And with these many instances of abuse, typically, a crisis hotline is the first point of contact. Statistically, in Massachusetts, by the time this event is over, another 302 people may experience domestic or sexual violence. And we have a role to play in crisis intervention, in healing, in caring for one another.
Violence not only impacts the person, but it impacts their family, their neighbors, their coworkers. I want to share with you an instance where I was affected as a coworker. So, this time of year, last year, it was a Friday evening that I had a work meeting. I work with some consultants and we’re creating a training curriculum on how to create culturally specific responses to violence. So, we meet for our Friday meeting. We close from work. This coworker shared that when the workday was over, she was going to drop off some fruits to my house because she had them in abundance. So, at 8:00 I texted. Nothing. I tried again at 10:00. This wasn’t like her. I reached out to get her again on Saturday and again on Monday. By Tuesday, I called others on the team and said, “We need to figure out what has happened to our dear coworker and friend.”

So, another coworker of mine took the trip up to a part of Massachusetts where we later found out that our dear friend Michelle Broadnax had been a part of a double shooting in Lexington. I’m shaking because we were the ones, aside from her friends, we visited the hospital to see my colleague and friend gasping for air, not being able to eat. She was in excruciating pain. I brought flowers and she said, no, take the flowers away. I have “pregnant nose”, I can’t take the smell of flowers. I sat with her for four hours. Many doctors came in. Many social workers came in. She couldn’t really talk well. She was gasping. She was in pain. Her feet were swollen. She had experienced two gunshot wounds, one to the abdomen, one to the knee. Her knee was completely shattered. Why? Because when we left work on Friday, she went to Lexington to care for a friend who was recovering from a stroke. And while on that visit, the friend’s son said something to her that was so awful. My friend turned and said, “Don’t talk to your mom like that.” Minutes later, she was in a pile of her own blood.
How?! It’s madness. This family had reached out for services several times before. We have a role to play in that. Me as a as a domestic violence advocate. Me as someone who answers hotline calls. I could intervene. The medical professionals. You have a unique role. You get an opportunity where you can have one on one time with someone. You can ask them, “How are things at home? Are you safe at home?” If you see cues such as them feeling nervous, such as them being irritable, maybe their partner hasn’t left the room. That could be a sign that this partner is intrusive and won’t necessarily allow the person to have space by themselves. You, as the medical professional, can say, “I need a moment to care for this person one on one.” That could be a moment of breaking the cycle of abuse.
Social workers. When you show up for your work each day – I know we don’t do it for the money – so when you show up to work each day, bring your whole heart. Bring creativity. Because in a system where resources are so limited, we have to be creative. Bring your listening ear. Truly seek to listen to those you are supporting. Whether it’s on a hotline call or one on one in your office. Put your phone away. Listen. Make eye contact. Eye contact is a great way to build trust.
And I also bring that to our law enforcement, our police officers that protect us and take care of us. Thank you for what you do. When you show up to a call, seek to respond well. Take the time to truly understand the situation. Take the time. Ask open-ended questions. Look the folks in the face. Try to eliminate bias, judgment, jumping to conclusions. If you see a situation, don’t automatically believe that it’s the bigger person that is the one that caused harm. We all have work to do.
But there are other ways that we could end the cycle of abuse. See, abuse thrives in isolation. So, wherever you go, seek to bring light. Seek to build connection. Ask questions. Pay attention. If you’re a coworker, colleague, and you notice that your colleague’s phone is going off every 20 minutes, and they’re frantic, having to answer quickly, observe. Ask questions. “Are you okay? I’ve noticed you haven’t had a moment. Do you need to talk about something? Would it be helpful for us to talk?”
We all should keep talking about domestic violence and sexual assault at events like this one today. Over dinner, maybe at Thanksgiving, maybe just 15 minutes. But something to let the younger folks in your family know safe and unsafe touch, know that their bodies deserve to be respected. Right? There are so many ways that we can intervene.
Last, but certainly not least, if you are someone in this room today is experiencing abuse, there may be negative feelings associated with that. Maybe shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. Feeling trapped. Know that you do not have to go through this alone. There are resources. When I first spoke up after seven years, whew! It was incredible. I was able to partake in support groups, have one-on-one services. There are free services. If you need a talk, reach out to a hotline. The way to do so is just by simply typing in some keywords of what you may be experiencing. Maybe it’s domestic violence, maybe it’s sexual abuse, maybe it’s suicidal thoughts, maybe it’s disability with abuse. Type in keywords and type in your geographic area.
Thank you so much. And lastly, if I could just have one more moment, I want to leave you with a diary entry that I wrote seven years ago:
“Fear.
It’s a noun,
An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous.
Although many people feel fear for different reasons,
It’s an emotion that many choose to hide.
Dear diary, I’ve lived in fear for so many years.
Many hidden tears.
Fear to speak my mind.
To show what’s within me.
Even when it was killing me.
Fear to speak of the abuse.
Fearful to tell my friends at school.
So, I would carry along.
Trying to belong.
Like nothing was wrong.
But everything was wrong.
This fear kept me in my room at night,
Because that was safer than tiptoeing to the bathroom.
My friends would say, ‘You’re so lucky your uncle picks you up from school every day, so you don’t have to take the train.’
But what I was experiencing was far from luck.
What I was experiencing freaking sucked.
I was fearful of his masculinization.
Fearful and intimidated by the fear of penetration.
Fearful to speak up of this victimization.
No, you don’t speak up.
That’s subordination.
Rooted in my devastation,
and humiliation,
of this thing called molestation.
It taught me to be fearful of confrontation.
So, I stayed in stagnation,
fearful of liberation.
What would liberation even look like?
Would it look like the day that I went to court for the restraining order?
For on that day,
I felt fear, too.
I entered the courtroom with my affidavit
because I had just penned the truth,
and I knew
that this
was one token to keeping me safe.
But yet again, the documentation
was another revelation,
or what some would call a validation,
that I had every right to feel fear.
But today,
I no longer feel fear.
No longer having my sleep haunted by nightmares.
Fear to walk the streets at night,
No longer fearful to see him,
Now that the truth has been revealed.
No fear to trust,
No fear to love.
Fear.
I am on the other side and many survivors are too.
So, there is hope.
But let’s be there for the those who are still experiencing fear.”
Thanks.
Kishana’s experiences and advocacy highlight the unfortunate ubiquity of domestic violence and its many forms. Organizations and services like DVSN and The Massachusetts Women of Color Network, among many others, are vital lifelines for abuse victims and survivors. DVSN is funded by grants and donations, and with the current upheaval in subsidized services, revenue sources are shrinking – some disappearing altogether. In these challenging times, financial support from our communities is more crucial than ever before. Supporters can donate securely online at DVSN.org/Donate or show support in person at DVSN’s annual Celebration of Hope Benefit fundraiser each spring and Light in the Darkness Candlelight Vigil each October. Our 2025 Celebration of Hope Benefit is coming up soon on June 9th! Learn more and purchase tickets here.
Please check this monthly blog to read updates about DVSN
and stay informed about domestic violence.
Or, join our mailing list to get the information sent conveniently to your inbox!







