Abstract
Sexual assault survivors who report to the criminal legal system often need the assistance of victim advocates to navigate this complex and often retraumatizing system. In recent years, victim advocates have been called upon to assist more survivors in “cold case” sexual assault prosecutions. The term “cold case” refers to a criminal incident that is reopened years after it was initially reported, often because new evidence has become available. In this study, we interviewed sexual assault survivors and community-based victim advocates about their experiences working together in cold cases. These cases were reopened because victims’ sexual assault kits (SAKs; also known as “rape kits”) had not been submitted by the police for forensic DNA testing in a timely way. When these SAKs were finally tested, the biological evidence produced new investigatory leads, and prosecutors wanted to move forward with criminal charges against the offenders. Re-opening these legal cases caused significant emotional distress for survivors, but most did not want mental health counseling during their legal re-engagement. Instead, survivors wanted their advocates to provide emotional support while focusing on their tangible needs so that they had sufficient life stability to re-engage in the prosecution process. Survivors also needed extensive legal advocacy from their advocates throughout their hearings and trials. These results underscore the need for cold case protocols that train practitioners about the long-term impacts of trauma and the importance of centering survivors’ individual needs.
After a sexual assault, survivors may need assistance from multiple social systems, including the mental health, healthcare, and/or criminal legal systems (Townsend and Campbell, 2018). If survivors decide to report the assault to the police, they are advised to have a medical forensic exam with collection of a sexual assault kit (SAK, also known as a “rape kit”) as soon as possible to preserve biological evidence of the assault (e.g., semen, blood, saliva hair; Department of Justice [DOJ], 2013). Navigating multiple social systems in the aftermath of trauma is challenging for survivors, so victim advocacy programs were created in the 1970s/1980s to support survivors’ help-seeking (Martin, 2005). Systems-based advocates coordinate victims’ contact within a specific system, typically with a goal of facilitating communication and cooperation (e.g., legal advocates within a prosecutor’s office help with court preparation; Campbell et al., 2015). By contrast, community-based advocates work in non-profit social services agencies and support survivors across multiple systems (Townsend and Campbell, 2018). These advocates are often trained in a strengths-based, social work model of advocacy, with an emphasis on social justice (Martin, 2005). This model emphasizes that survivors are the experts of their own lives, thus, the advocate’s role is to offer options and empower survivors’ choices (Wood, 2015). Although these advocacy approaches are distinct, they share a common goal of trying to support survivors as they seek help.
Advocacy services, both systems-based and community-based, are highly utilized by survivors who report their assaults to the criminal legal system (Townsend and Campbell, 2018). This system is particularly frightening for survivors, and most do not have positive experiences with the police (Campbell, 2008). The victim blaming treatment survivors encounter within this system causes additional mental health distress, above and beyond the trauma of the assault itself (Campbell, 2008). Advocacy services can buffer or prevent this re-traumatization (Campbell, 2006; Maier, 2008; Patterson and Tringali, 2015), but in the end, most sexual assault cases are closed by the police after minimal investigation (Spohn, 2020). Law enforcement stop calling victims with updates, and then they stop taking calls from survivors or advocates who are demanding help and action (Campbell et al., 2015). This silence is hurtful, and survivors have no choice but to move on with their lives, often with no explanation (Campbell et al., 2015).
In recent years, it has become clearer why so many reported sexual assault cases were closed or allowed to become silently inactive. Unbeknownst to survivors and advocates, police rarely submit SAKs to crime laboratories for forensic DNA testing (Campbell and Feeney, 2023). Police often tell victims they must have a SAK collected as part of the reporting process (DOJ, 2013), but when they retrieve evidence kits from hospitals, they do not submit them for testing; instead, they put untested kits in storage (Campbell and Feeney, 2023). Large stockpiles of untested SAKs, often termed “rape kit backlogs,” have been found in police property storage facilities throughout the United States, including urban, suburban, and rural communities (Strom et al., 2021). Current estimates suggest there are 300,000–400,000 untested SAKs in the U.S. (Strom et al., 2021). Research on the root causes of this problem has revealed that police do not test SAKs for myriad reasons (see Campbell and Feeney [2023] for a review). Certainly, resource constraints have been a factor, as police budgets and laboratory capacities have been strained for decades (Campbell et al., 2015). However, law enforcement personnel also do not test rape kits because they do not believe survivors, and they do not want to use their limited resources on a crime that is not an institutional priority (Campbell & Fehler-Cabral, 2018). Thus, the national rape kit backlog is a tangible manifestation of a decades-long problem of police blaming and disbelieving sexual assault victims.
As these rape kit backlogs have been discovered and reported in the media, survivors and advocacy groups have demanded that these older SAKs be tested (Campbell and Feeney, 2023). Multiple state and federal funding programs have been created to support kit testing, and studies evaluating backlog testing protocols have found that these older kits still contain viable DNA eligible for entry into FBI’s national criminal DNA database, CODIS (Combined DNA Index System; Lovell and Langhinrichsen-Rohling, 2023). The DNA profiles extracted from rape kit evidence specimens are then searched against reference DNA profiles from known arrested/convicted offenders and unknown/un-identified crime scene samples to see if there is a match (termed a “CODIS hit”; National Institute of Justice, 2017). CODIS hits provide promising investigational leads (e.g., an identified named suspect and/or a link to another criminal case), which provides a pathway for police and prosecutors to re-open these cases (Long et al., 2023). Criminal legal professionals refer to these as “cold cases” because the case went inactive for a period of time, and key evidence, witnesses, and other leads have not been reviewed for years (Long et al., 2023). To move forward with a cold case, police and prosecutors need survivors’ engagement, which requires establishing contact with them years, sometimes decades, after they made their initial reports.
The process of reaching out to sexual assault survivors to inform them that their SAKs had not been tested—and now have been tested—and their case may be reopened because of a CODIS hit is referred to as “victim notification” (Campbell et al., 2015). Typically, SAK victim notifications are conducted solely by law enforcement personnel, and survivors are connected to advocates thereafter (Campbell and Feeney, 2023). For example, in communities that utilize systems-based advocacy, advocates with the police department or prosecutor’s office meet with survivors after the notification to facilitate their participation in the cold case investigation (Luminais et al., 2020; Regoeczi and Wright, 2016; Sulley et al., 2021). Systems-based advocacy is not confidential, and advocates can and do share information relayed to them with other system personnel. In evaluation studies of systems-based advocacy protocols, survivors have indicated that they struggled with lingering distrust of the criminal legal system (Sulley et al., 2021) and often felt pressured to re-engage in the cold case reinvestigation and prosecution (Regoeczi and Wright, 2016). Some survivors experienced significant mental health distress, including substance abuse relapse and suicidality, during cold case re-engagement (Regoeczi and Wright, 2016). It was unclear in these studies the extent to which systems advocates were able to intervene and support survivors.
Jurisdictions that utilize community-based advocates in their SAK victim notifications and cold case protocols also typically do not allow advocates to be present for the notification, and instead connect survivors to advocates immediately thereafter for crisis intervention and other support (Campbell et al., 2018). Given the underlying philosophy of this advocacy model, community-based advocates do not try to persuade survivors to participate in cold case reinvestigations, and instead provide information so victims can decide what is best for them. Community-based advocacy programs are often funded by the federal Victims of Crime Act (VOCA) and/or Violence Against Women Act (VAWA), which allows for confidential communication between advocates and survivors so they can speak freely without fear, judgment, or disclosure to others (Zweig et al., 2021). To date, there have been few evaluations of community-based advocacy in SAK cold cases. For instance, Campbell et al. (2018) asked community-based victim advocates to complete a brief post-notification tracking log to capture key elements of what happened in these interactions. Advocates relayed that survivors had varied emotional reactions, including shock, anger, disbelief, and happiness. Most decided to re-engage with the criminal legal system and advocates offered on-going support throughout the cold case reinvestigation. However, this study did not examine the services provided by advocates to mitigate victims’ initial emotional distress or other support offered as these cold cases proceeded to trial.
As more cities and states are beginning to test older SAKs, there is a pressing need for research to understand how advocates can support survivors throughout this difficult process of SAK victim notification and cold case re-engagement. To that end, our research team has been part of a long-term (13 years thus far) participatory action research project with a jurisdiction that utilizes community-based advocates in their cold case protocols (Campbell et al., 2015; Campbell et al., 2021). Our work is steeped in Lewin’s (1952) approach to action research, which is a pragmatic, utilitarian approach to science in which knowledge generates action to address a locally situated social problem (i.e., this jurisdiction’s backlog of untested rape kits). Our participatory methods drew upon work of Foster-Fishman and Watson (2010), whereby we engaged in a “collaborative process between the research and members of a targeted community . . . where both the insiders (community members) and outsiders (researchers) co-generate meaning, mutually design actions, and jointly assess the impact of these interventions” (p. 235). Our primary collaborative partners have been the prosecutor’s office as well as community-based sexual assault advocacy organization that supports survivors through notification and re-engagement. Consistent with a PAR approach, we work with our community partners to co-create studies that address local needs.
Our goal in this specific study was to explore survivors’ experiences receiving and advocates’ experiences providing advocacy assistance for SAK victim notifications and criminal legal system re-engagement. Advocacy is inherently dyadic, meaning it is a shared experience of identifying needs and responding to those needs. As such, it is important to capture the perspectives of both survivors and advocates, and qualitative methods are ideal for exploring multiple vantage points. Accordingly, we selected a qualitative transcendental phenomenological research design, which seeks to describe “the common meaning for several individuals of their lived experiences of a concept or a phenomenon” (Creswell and Poth, 2018: p. 75). This is an appropriate design when research participants have a common experience (i.e., survivors and advocates’ interactions in SAK notifications and cold case advocacy) and through unstructured or semi-structured interviews, researchers explore common and unique features of that experience. Researchers analyze those narratives and reduce data to “significant statements or quotes and combine these statements into themes” to produce a textural description of these experiences (Creswell and Poth, 2018: p. 78). Thus, this design can yield a set of themes that define advocacy needs and advocacy provision in sexual assault cold cases.
From these qualitative interviews with survivors and advocates, we examined two research questions. First, what are the advocacy needs of survivors who have SAK victim notifications and cold case re-engagement, and how do community-based advocates address those needs? Prior research has identified core advocacy services commonly provided in “current” cases (e.g., emotional support, legal advocacy, see Townsend and Campbell, 2018), but we framed this question in an exploratory manner given the lack of prior research on cold cases. In other words, rather than asking whether these core services were provided (a deductive approach), we asked survivors to describe their needs and if/how the advocates addressed those needs (an inductive approach). Second, what, if anything, was different about survivors’ advocacy needs in sexual assault cold cases? For this question, we again leveraged an inductive approach by prompting participants to consider how the lengthy delays in SAK testing, notification, and prosecution shaped their advocacy interactions.
Methods
Recruitment and participants
Sexual assault survivors
Consistent with a PAR approach, we worked with our advocacy organization partners to co-develop the study’s recruitment protocol. The survivors’ contact information could not be given to the research team, per the agency’s confidentiality policy and the policies of their funders, so the advocates agreed to contact survivors who met study eligibility requirements to explain the study and request their participation. The advocates had tremendous experience working with these survivors, so we centered that knowledge and designed the protocol consistent with their recommendations regarding recruitment scripts, outreach methods, and follow-up scheduled (see Campbell et al. (2023) for protocol). Advocates reached out to survivors who: (1) were 18 years or older; (2) had been sexually assaulted in our focal jurisdiction, reported the assault to police, and had a SAK collected and released to police for DNA testing; (3) later learned that their SAK had not initially been tested but had been discovered in this city's backlog and sent for testing, and that the results of that testing led to their being contacted for SAK victim notification; (4) had their case reopened and prosecuted; and (5) had a case that had been adjudicated and was now closed. Over 20 months of recruitment, 112 survivors met the study’s eligibility criteria. It was difficult for advocates to reconnect with survivors (many had multiple changes in contact information), and they were unable to reach 68 survivors (61% of eligible survivors), but did connect with 44 survivors (39% of eligible survivors). Survivors whose cases ended in a trial acquittal were significantly less likely to respond to/be located by advocates than were survivors whose cases ended in a plea/guilty verdict (χ2 [2, N = 112] = 7.85, p < .05). Of the 44 survivors who could be reached, N = 32 agreed to schedule an interview (73% of eligible and reachable participants; 29% of all eligible cases); there were no significant differences between those who accepted and declined based on their legal case outcome (χ 2 [2, N = 44] = 1.86, ns). All survivors identified as women, and their current ages ranged from 25 years old to 60 years old (median age = 41). Most participants identified as African American/Black (n = 28; 87.5%), three identified as white (9.14%), and one identified as multiracial (3.1%). The survivors had been sexually assaulted on average 18.5 years ago (range 6 to 28 years ago).
Community-based victim advocates
We also co-designed the recruitment protocol for the advocacy interviews with the advocates themselves. They preferred to be contacted by email to request participation, and their employer organization agreed that they could complete the interview during work time. Advocates were eligible to participate in this study if they had been part of at least one victim notification and had provided cold case advocacy services to at least one notified survivor; N = 14 advocates were eligible, and N = 12 completed an interview. The advocate sample was comprised of nearly all women (92%), and almost half (46%) identified as Black/African American. Participants ranged in age: 8% were between 18 and 24 years old, 38% between 25 and 34, 25% between 35 and 44, 17% between 45 and 54, and 8% were 65 or older. Most (62%) held a master’s degree.
Procedures
Survivor interviews
We co-developed the data collection procedures with our advocacy partners to ensure that our approach was trauma-informed and provided appropriate support for survivors. Per their recommendations, we interviewed survivors in person at the sexual assault victim service agency or by phone, based on participant preference (see Campbell et al. (2023) for the complete protocol). We obtained informed consent from all participants and asked for consent to audio record and all agreed. The interviews lasted on average 80 min (SD = 29 min), with a range of 36–171 min. All survivors were compensated $50 for their time and were offered a copy of the agency’s community resources brochure. All procedures were approved by the IRB of Michigan State University.
Community-based advocate interview procedures
We followed the advocates’ recommendations that we conduct their interviews via Zoom, and the informed consent procedures specified that no video recording would be captured during the interviews. We requested consent to audio record via Camtasia and all agreed. Interviews lasted between 23 and 114 min (M = 67, SD = 23). The advocates did not receive financial compensation for their participation, but the agency allowed advocates to complete the interviews during work time. All procedures were approved by the IRB of Michigan State University.
Interview guide
Survivor interviews
Our advocacy organization partners helped us develop a semi-structured qualitative interview to explore survivors’ experiences with SAK victim notification and cold case advocacy. We conducted multiple brainstorming meetings with the advocates to map out the structure of interview and its content. With respect to the notification, our lead question to survivors was, “can you take me through what happened when you were first contacted about your kit finally being tested?” As participants described that experience, interviewers asked follow-up questions to ascertain: (1) when/where survivor first had contact with their advocate; (2) whether the advocate being referenced was in fact a community-based advocate from our partner agency (all were); (3) whether the advocate explained their confidentiality policy to survivors (all did) and how survivors felt about that (e.g., “How did you feel knowing that the advocate would keep anything you told her confidential?”).; and (4) how the dyadic interaction unfolded between the survivor and advocate (e.g., “what did your advocate do?,” “what help did your advocate provide?,” “was there anything you needed from the advocate that you didn’t get?”, and “what did they say or do that was supportive or not supportive?”). With respect to survivors’ cold case reinvestigation and prosecution experiences, our lead question to survivors was, “can you take me through what happened during the re-investigation and prosecution of your case?” As participants described these experiences, interviewers asked the same set of clarifying questions (listed above).
Community-based advocate interviews
We solicited advocates’ input on the key issues we should explore about their experiences participating in SAK victim notifications. Based on that feedback, we asked advocates to describe: (1) what role they typically played in the notification process (i.e., when/where they were connected to the survivors); (2) when and how they explained their confidentiality policies to survivors; and (3) how they determined clients’ needs during SAK victim notification and how they addressed those needs (i.e., what help/assistance they provided). We asked a parallel set of questions regarding advocate participation in cold case reinvestigation and prosecution. We also asked what, if anything, was different about advocacy in cold cases relative to current cases.
Analytic plan
In PAR methods, researchers may collaborate with their participants to co-analyze the data; however, in this project, we felt such an approach would be inadvisable. For the survivors, we did not want to request their prolonged engagement in analyzing narratives of abuse, and we were concerned how we could adequately protect potentially identifiable information. Likewise, we did not ask advocates to co-analyze the data because it would be challenging to protect the identities of the survivors, and in the event they had critical feedback about the advocacy organization, we did not want to jeopardize those relationships. Likewise, we did not ask the advocates to participate in the analysis of the advocacy interviews in the event they disclosed personal information they would not want their colleagues to know. We discussed these considerations and decisions with our advocacy partners, and they agreed with our assessment.
The audio recordings of the interviews were transcribed verbatim and checked for accuracy. For analysis, we used Miles et al.’s (2020) framework, which outlines a three-phase process for identifying and verifying patterns within and across cases. For the first phase (data condensation), we used Atlas.ti (version 8) to create descriptive codes and pattern codes to summarize the content of the interviews. One-third of the transcripts were double coded until the coders reached consistent coding processes. Thereafter, coders worked independently and then discussed and resolved coding differences. In the second phase (data display), data were compared within and across cases to answer the study’s focal research questions. We examined the survivor data and advocate data separately to explore what pattern codes emerged within each sub-population. We identified four core pattern codes that summarized survivors’ advocacy needs, and a parallel set of four codes that summarized the advocates’ experiences providing advocacy (i.e., each population highlighted the same four themes and there was agreement in how they characterized these four components). The analysts wrote thematic summaries and analytic memos that captured similarities and any differences between survivors’ and advocates’ discussions of these four core themes. The third phase (drawing and verifying conclusions) involved reviewing the thematic summaries and analytic memos to ensure consistent interpretation and selecting illustrative quotes for each of the four components (quotes labeled as “S” for survivor or “A” for advocate). To verify our findings, we drew upon Lincoln and Guba’s (1985) validity standards. To establish credibility (i.e., confidence in the accuracy of the findings), we had prolonged engagement with this community, triangulated findings from the survivors’ and advocates’ interviews, and conducted member checks with the advocates. To establish dependability (i.e., the findings could be repeated), we maintained an audit trail that tracked data collection methods, coding processes, coding decisions, analysis drafts, analysis revisions, and member check feedback. To establish confirmability (i.e., the findings reflect the participants’ views, not the researchers’ biases), the PI kept field notes and wrote reflexive memos throughout the project. We kept an audit trail (see above) and conducted triangulation assessments (see above) to ensure that the findings did not reflect the biases of the research team (see Campbell et al., 2023 for the team’s positionality statement and how we engaged our positionalities throughout the conduct of this research).
Results
Our first research question explored the advocacy needs of survivors who had SAK victim notifications and cold case re-engagement, and how their community-based advocates address those needs. These core needs included: (1) crisis intervention and emotional support; (2) confidential communication; (3) court accompaniment and advocacy; and (4) assistance with other life needs. As survivors and advocates described each of these advocacy services, their narratives often highlighted what was different about their service interactions because this was a sexual assault cold case prosecution, which was the focus of our second research question. Thus, we have organized the results by the four service themes; within each theme, we first describe the service need (Research Question 1) and then highlight any differences about that service given the cold case context (Research Question 2). Furthermore, as we organized the results, we were mindful that advocacy is a dyadic relationship, so we also wanted to present the findings in a way that captures that dynamic process between survivors and advocates. As such, within each of the four service themes, we co-present survivor and advocate data (i.e., quotes from each stakeholder group are interwoven) to show the “call” and “response” that defined these dual perspectives.
Crisis intervention and emotional support
Victim notification is an unexpected reactivation of a traumatic memory, and even if a SAK victim notification brings welcome news that survivors have been wanting for years, it is still a tremendous emotional shock. As the memories of the assault started rushing back, survivors felt overwhelmed, and the emotional support their advocates provided was critical. For example: They [the advocates] called me after [the detective had made the notification]. They was very supportive. They was there. They was like, ‘We'll make an appointment to see you.’ They got me right in, they made me feel comfortable, they made me feel like it's not your fault. I love them for that. They was very supportive throughout the whole thing. (Participant S27)
Likewise, when we interviewed the advocates, they highlighted how the notification meetings had been stressful, so their first focus was supporting survivors’ emotional well-being. A SAK victim notification after a CODIS hit opens many complex legal issues (e.g., DNA testing results, identification of the assailant, reinvestigation and prosecution), so advocates stressed how they needed to give their full attention to the survivors’ emotional needs. For example, one advocate explained how they redirect notification meetings to provide emotional support: When she [the survivor] started crying and [the advocate] could give her a tissue … when the questions were getting really specific and the survivor was really trying to remember like, ‘Oh … I don’t know.’ And [the advocate] was sort of there to say, ‘Take your time. It’s okay. These questions are hard. Don’t worry if you can’t remember perfectly.’ … providing that emotional support and also sort of stepping in to say like give her a little space, like give her some more time to think about it rather than just sort of like rapid fire questions. (Participant A4)
As survivors’ thoughts and feelings were pulled back in time to relive the assault, which was particularly challenging given that these were cold cases, advocates focused on helping them feel safe and grounded in the present. These early moments of support and intervention were foundational to the close, trusting bonds survivors formed with their advocates.
Confidential communication and consultation
These community-based advocates were able to offer confidential communication so survivors could speak privately about their concerns. Advocates emphasized that they explain this confidentiality provision to survivors as soon as possible so they understand how their role is unique; for example, I usually just say, I'm your advocate. I ask them if they know what an advocate is. Some say yes, some say no. If they don't know what an advocate is, I kind of tell them that I'm their support person. I let them know … my main concern and focus will be them. So everything that's said between me and them is strictly confidential … If they need someone to be able to process with about the case or the assault, or just to have somebody to vent to. (Participant A6)
When we asked survivors if and why confidential advocacy was important to them, one survivor captured the sentiments of many when she said: “[It made me feel] safe. Yes, it made me feel like I could talk to them about anything knowing that it's not going to get out” (Participant S27). Privacy was important to survivors, given the shame and stigma associated with sexual assault. They wanted assurances that their identities and information would be kept private, as this survivor explained: I guess it made me get a little more comfortable with telling her what needed to be told … You already feel like everybody looking at you. You don't want to feel like everybody looking at you…Even though there's nothing for the victim to be ashamed of, you still feel ashamed. You don't want anybody to know that. (Participant S 23)
Confidential communication with advocates was important to survivors throughout their entire re-engagement experiences, but survivors indicated it was particularly helpful as they were deciding whether to re-engage with the criminal legal system, which is unique to cold cases [Survivors] always ask me, ‘Do I have to do this?’ And I'm like, ‘the detective told you that you didn't have to … this is your choice’ … My goal is not to get the perpetrator prosecuted. My goal is to make sure that the survivor is safe, comfortable and feels advocated for. (Participant A3)
What the legal system may want from survivors could be different than what they need for themselves, and the advocates’ role is to help survivors understand their options and support their agency. Advocates stressed that confidential communication was particularly critical in cold cases because survivors felt pressure to re-engage, and they needed to talk freely about their concerns.
Court accompaniment and advocacy
All survivors we interviewed ultimately decided to re-engage with the criminal legal system and all cases were charged by the prosecutor’s office. Court proceedings are confusing and intimidating, so a key component of advocacy services is demystifying the criminal legal process and helping survivors prepare for court appearances. After they had made their decision to re-engage with the legal system, many survivors felt anxious and unsure about what would happen next, as this survivor summarized: [when the CODIS hit came back] I think I was relieved but at the same time still afraid. I never had to go through trial for court or anything like that … It was like, what do I say, what do I do. Like I said, [my advocate], she was so nice. She helped me along the way ... every time I had to go to court, she was there … Yes, that was very helpful. (Participant S31)
Survivors were worried about what to say, what to do, and what would happen next, and they often remarked how helpful their advocates were in explaining court processes. In our interviews with the advocates, we asked them how they prepare survivors for court: I set up a group to walk them through the criminal justice system because ... a lot of them had no idea of what was going to happen … I had detectives and prosecutors … come in and tell them what their roles were and what they expected, or what they were going to do or what they were going to see with the court system. I had somebody from the state lab come in and talk about what their role is … It worked out well because they [learned] what was getting ready to happen before it happened ... I wanted them [the survivors] to be empowered, I wanted them to know [what the court process will be like]. (Participant A14)
Advocates also mentioned that they felt it was their responsibility to forewarn survivors about how difficult court may be and how they may be treated by legal personnel, as this advocate described: I do feel it's our responsibility. But it's disheartening ... trying to explain to survivors that the justice system isn't set up for survivors to be successful, is very hard. (Participant A5)
Survivors appreciated that the advocates were honest about how they might be treated in court: She [the advocate] told me that they're [defense counsel] going to come at you, they're going to ask you questions, they're going to try to make it feel like it was your fault. They're going to try to play all of those little mind games, but you know better than that [and that helped me] answer the questions. (Participant S7)
Advocates accompanied survivors to court hearings and other appointments to provide emotional support. Survivors highlighted that having an advocate present through court sentencing was tremendously helpful to them, and that steady support was critical to their re-engagement, as one survivor described: I’m lucky I had them there, their support. Because doing it by myself … I wouldn’t get through it, I would have broke, I would have crumbled … having that type of support and people that care about you, your feelings and what happened to you. That was amazing. And I thank everybody for it … Just to be there every step of the way with me … Thank them for having my back, being in my corner when I really needed the most. (Participant S27)
Advocates noted that in these cold cases, survivors often did not want their family and friends present for court hearings either because they had not told them about this assault or if they had, these people had not believed them or supported them. During the [court] process, they [survivors] have very limited support [from family and friends] and knowing that I’m a constant, which is something that’s new to them, knowing that not everybody is going to leave them, and building up that self-esteem, it does them wonders, like, okay, I can do this. She has faith in me. I tell every single one of my clients, ‘We’re in this together. You’re not in this alone.’ (Participant A12)
In cold cases, the advocates were often the sole or primary support persons for survivors, which advocates noted is not typical in current-case legal advocacy.
Assistance with other life needs
Given that that these notifications were unexpected reactivation of traumatic memories, advocates asked survivors if they wanted counseling services to address their trauma symptoms, but many clients did not want such help. Here, an advocate explains why many survivors in in these cold cases did not want counseling: [Counseling] wasn’t really utilized in the way that we thought it might be because the majority of people did not want counseling. I think it was mostly that they just wanted as little to do with the process as possible, because they just wanted to get this done and the court part done, and they were just so focused on that … it’s kind of hard to start to bring up all those things in counseling and kind of start over in a way. (Participant A11)
The survivors echoed this sentiment in their interviews—mental health support services were not a focal need and they wanted to return to the issues that mattered in their current lives, as this survivor noted, “I didn't feel like I needed to talk to someone, I just, [I have] two kids, [I’m] busy (Participant S21). Likewise, another survivor noted: Call somebody else … Some people actually need that help and support after something like that happens. I'm not one of those ones that's suicidal … go ahead and deal with one of the ones who actually need the help and support like that … I’m fine. (Participant S8)
Advocates reiterated the importance of listening to their clients and trusting that they truly are the experts of their own lives and know what they need. Advocates can offer services, but they need to respect survivors’ decisions about what they do and do not want to do: I've long since learned that following the lead of the client ... If the client does not want the services, I only ask that they allow me to contact them periodically to follow up to see how they’re doing and if there’s anything I can do to assist them with anything. (Participant A14)
Survivors indicated that they needed help in other domains of their lives, such as childcare, housing, education, employment, financial help, and government assistance. The advocates noted that survivors in cold cases often had more pressing tangible needs than many of their current-case survivors: I think honestly the main difference is survivors from the backlog, [the assault is] not at the forefront of their brain right now anymore. They have other things they're dealing with that seem to be more pressing than this. (Participant A3)
Because trauma has long-term, wide-ranging effects on survivors’ lives, these victims had been experiencing significant stress and disruption for years, and their social support and resource networks were strained or virtually non-existent, as this advocate explained: [The backlog] survivors definitely have a lot more needs I feel as far as financial advocacy, housing, educational … especially for survivors who may have been in their teens when they were assaulted, you have the sense of they no longer have a relationship with their family, so having to deal with that. They may have quit school because it was just too hard for them and they didn't have any support. So being able to get them back on track … trying to help them out with financial advocacy and housing and things like that. When I say financial, a lot of times I'm saying financial in regards to helping them to pay for the rent or helping them pay for utility bills and things like that because there's a lot of [backlog] survivors are having issues with housing right now. (Participant A6)
In our interviews with survivors, they expressed relief and gratitude that the advocates could help them with more than just their court cases: She was calling, checking on me … seeing if I needed anything, because I was in the process of moving, so she was … helping me find an apartment. (Participant S12) They help with resources. They help with housing. They help people overcome barriers to get a job. Temporary employment, they help you with resume writing and they really support women there. (Participant S26)
Advocates continued to maintain contact and provide comprehensive advocacy services to survivors long after their court cases ended. As they emphasized to their clients in their first meeting, they were there to help them with whatever they needed, for as long as they needed.
Discussion
Sexual assault survivors who report their assaults to the police often need extensive support to withstand the long, adversarial process of the criminal legal system. In this study, we interviewed survivors who experienced significant delays on their path to justice because law enforcement personnel did not test their SAKs at the time of their initial incident report. Years later, their kits were discovered in storage, submitted to a crime laboratory for testing, and the DNA results yielded investigational leads that reopened their cases. We also interviewed the advocates who supported these survivors through this extraordinary journey. Our findings revealed that survivors needed emotional support, legal advocacy, and tangible assistance throughout the reinvestigation and prosecution process. Survivors in current cases also need this kind of support, but the relative importance of these services was different for survivors in cold cases. The SAK notifications caused significant emotional distress for survivors, including reoccurring PTSD symptoms, but most survivors felt that best way to cope with the disruption caused by the notification was to focus on the disruption itself—the legal re-engagement. Advocates indicated that they were surprised survivors did not want mental health counseling to process the emotional trauma of the assault, the betrayal of the criminal legal system, or the stress of re-engagement.
Instead, survivors needed considerable tangible assistance (e.g., housing, employment, transportation, and childcare) to build enough life stability to re-engage with the legal system. Survivors experienced significant long-term life disruption from the assault, and many were struggling financially and had limited social support from family and friends. The community-based advocacy model emphasizes that advocates must focus on survivors’ stated needs and priorities (Wood, 2015), so the advocates set aside their own expectations and directed their energies toward helping survivors stabilize their lives so they could appear in court. However, we note that these findings regarding the relative importance of survivors’ needs could be specific to our study’s population, as the vast majority of survivors whose SAKs were not tested were Black/African American women, many of whom were living in poverty. These results invite further research on how local context may affect which services are most relevant in cold case advocacy.
In this project, we studied community-based advocacy services, and a defining feature of this model is confidential communication, whereby what is shared with advocates is private and cannot be disclosed to others without the consent of the survivor. Our findings suggest that confidentiality may be particularly important in cold cases, especially if survivors are expected to re-engage because forensic DNA testing yielded a CODIS hit (i.e., identified a suspect). However, it was usually a welcome change for survivors that police and prosecutors wanted to pursue their cases, the fact that survivors had been ignored and disbelieved when they initially reported was still hurtful. Having a confidential space to process these conflicting emotions and to consider options was critical. Of note, our results do not indicate that confidential services dissuaded survivors from participating, which is a concern voiced by criminal legal system personnel (Luminais et al., 2020). Rather, our findings are consistent with other studies that confidential support may increase the likelihood that survivors will participate in criminal proceedings (Patterson and Tringali, 2015). We acknowledge we do not have comparative data on other cold case advocacy models (i.e., systems-based advocacy), but at the very least, our data suggest that community-based advocacy services did not thwart survivors’ engagement.
Community-based research projects are challenging because researchers must adapt procedures to the local context, which may introduce methodological compromises and limitations. In this project, we were not allowed to observe the SAK victim notification meetings or any cold case reinvestigation advocacy meetings to document how survivors and advocates interacted. Doing so would have been intrusive and may have interfered with service provision, so instead we had hoped to interview survivors and advocates throughout the process (i.e., longitudinal qualitative interviews). However, the prosecutor’s office and our university’s IRB were concerned that these interviews could become subject to discovery because these were open legal cases. Although we would be able to block the release of the data with a federal Privacy Certificate, neither the prosecutor’s office nor our IRB wanted to risk such complications in what were already complex legal cases. As such, we had to wait to interview survivors and advocates until after these cold cases were adjudicated. This delay undoubtedly affected the recruitment rate, as some survivors could not be re-located by the advocates. In addition, survivors whose cases ended in not guilty verdicts were less likely to respond to advocates’ outreach efforts. Therefore, we do not have as much data about the advocacy experiences of survivors whose case trials ended in acquittals, and it seems possible that these survivors may have different needs. We hope that other research teams may be able to obtain approvals for prospective longitudinal data collection, as the retrospective methods used in this study introduced sampling biases that limit the generalizability of the findings.
With these limitations noted, the results of this study can inform the development of SAK victim notification and cold case advocacy protocols. At a macro-level, our findings underscore the value of a truly integrated and collaborative multidisciplinary approach in cold case prosecutions. To date, most SAK victim notifications protocols center the needs of the legal system—notifications are conducted solely by police personnel and advocacy services are typically system-based (Campbell and Feeney, 2023). Yet, survivors’ needs spanned multiple systems, which is within the scope of work for community-based advocates, but not so for systems-based advocates. Therefore, in jurisdictions utilizing only systems-based advocates, a multidisciplinary team (MDT) model may be helpful so community-based advocates can also assist survivors. MDT models are recommended best practice for bringing diverse stakeholders together and coordinating responses across systems because practitioner collaboration tends to improve survivors’ help-seeking experiences (Greeson et al., 2016). MDT resource guides, such as the National Sexual Violence Resource Center’s (2018) Sexual Assault Response Team (SART) Toolkit, have helped communities developed collaborative protocols for current-case sexual assault investigations and these practices could be adapted to create more inclusive cold case protocols. Re-evaluating SAK victim notification protocols through a MDT lens may help achieve more balance between the needs of the legal system and the needs of survivors.
At a meso-level, our results suggest that although there are similarities in the core services provided by advocates in current and cold case sexual assault investigations, the unique context of rape kit backlogs shapes the relative importance of survivors’ needs, and thus, the nature of advocacy interactions. As such, states and local communities addressing rape kit backlogs should provide specialized training to advocates who will be providing cold case advocacy, as the philosophy and skills utilized in current cases may not be fully transferrable. For community-based advocates, training that re-affirms the core tenants of the social work social justice model to empower survivors’ choice is critical, and case studies that highlight how survivors needs might conflict with advocates’ expectations (or the expectations of other system personnel) can help prepare staff for this kind of service work. Furthermore, advocacy organizations must have strong connections to employment, housing, transportation, and childcare resources at-the-ready, as cold case clients may need extensive help in these spaces. Our results also suggest that advocacy organizations may need to create follow-up services for cold case survivors, as mental health counseling may be more useful after their court cases are completed.
Finally, at a micro-level, tensions between law enforcement and advocates throughout SAK victim notifications and cold case re-engagement should be expected—and they present important opportunities for social change. Moylan and Lindhorst (2015) noted that advocates may try to avoid conflict to keep the peace within MDTs, but addressing differences in philosophy and practice is critical for social justice. In other words, these micro-level challenges reflect broader macro-level power imbalances between systems, which can be steadily remedied in day-to-day interpersonal interactions. For example, in the jurisdiction we studied, police did not want advocates present at the actual SAK notifications, which is consistent with other community’s protocols; however, the survivors we interviewed emphasized that they wanted advocates there so they could receive immediate help. In our community, advocates had raised this concern before in MDT meetings, but got little traction for change. Consistent with a participatory action research model, we shared our findings with our advocacy partners as well as our law enforcement and prosecution colleagues and challenged them to re-design their protocol to involve advocates sooner. We are continuing to advocate with our partners to create changes consistent with the findings of this study. Cold case SAK notifications are stressful and potentially retraumatizing experiences for survivors, and asking victims to upend their lives and re-engage with a system that betrayed them is a weighty request, so community protocols must center needs of these survivors not systems.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This research was supported by a grant from the U.S. Department of Justice, Office on Violence Against Women (2018-SI-AX-0001). The opinions or points of view expressed in this document are solely those of the authors and do not reflect the official positions of any participating organization or the U.S. Department of Justice. The authors assure that no financial interest or benefit has arisen from the direct applications of this research.
