PSU Magazine Spring 2003

Researchers look at state's compensation program for victims of violent crime. D arlier this year, a family member in an hallucinogenic rage stabbed Nancy's mother to death. Nancy and her siblings were devastated, not only emotionally but also financially. Fortu– nately the state of Oregon provided some help. It paid for the mother's funeral. The money came from the nearly 30-year-old Oregon Crime Victims' Compensation Program, which helps victims and their families pay for such expenses as medical treatment, mental health counseling, missed earnings, rehabilitation, and funerals. Although the program had $5 million available in 2002 , surprisingly few people received assistance. In 2002, only 3,957 or 20 percent of the some 20 ,000 Oregonians who were victims of violent crime received compensa– tion. The program paid out $2.3 million-only denying 262 claims. Why are so few people getting help at such a critical point in their lives? The program, administered by the Oregon Department of Justice, looked to Portland State's Regional Research Institute (RRI) for assistance in finding the answer. RRI led an exhaustive 18-month project that began with a survey of crime victims and the agencies that serve them. RRI , part of the Graduate School of Social Work, found both predictable and surprising results- such as the feelings of re-victimization people felt while seeking compensation . Since its founding in 1972, the 14 PSU MAGAZINE SPRING 2003 By Steve Dodge institute has undertaken more than 125 projects on topics ranging from child and adult mental health issues to juvenile justice and drug and alco– hol programs. It seeks to improve the manner in which social services are designed , managed, and evaluated. For the Oregon Crime Victims' Needs Assessment, RRI oversaw in-depth interviews with service providers, surveys of agencies and community partners that serve crime victims, focus groups of victims and advocates, and the creation of data maps showing geographic distribution of services. A key component of the study was a direct mail survey to 5,000 violent crime victims asking for their assess– ment of present services and what could be improved. Only 430 surveys were returned-"at the low end of what you would expect," says RRI's Debra Elliott, co-principal investigator. However, the overall mountain of data produced, compiled, and presented in the study not only gives officials the snapshot they were looking for, but plenty of numerical and anecdotal information to use in making policy decisions. m ne finding which surprised no one, says Elliott, is that many cnme Vlcnms were not aware of the range of services available. "The information is not getting to people in the manner in which they need it." Adds Connie Gallagher, director of the state Crime Victims' Assistance PHOTO ILLUSTRATION BY WILLIAM FRITSCH/ BRAND X PICTURES/ PICTUREQUEST Section, "The message is clear that we have to do a better job of public awareness, coupled with enforcement of victims' rights. " T he study also points out that language and cultural barriers keep many victims from reporting crime, let alone applying to the state for compen– sation. Findings show that services are spotty in rural areas, where victims may be isolated or far from govern– ment or social service agencies. Elliott points out another key finding from the study-what she calls the "trauma barrier. " "We're talking about interpersonal violent crime," she says, "everything from assault to rape to homicide. When it happens, you are in a whirl– wind of confusion." Often, the study shows, victims are only told of their rights at the scene of the crime-when they are likely to forget. Many report