Shirts with messaging affirming wages for care work, which hang in the Crossroads Women’s Center on Wayne Avenue. (Photo: Rasheed Z. Ajamu)

This story was produced with the support of Blue Shield of California Foundation, working to change the conversation about domestic violence, and The Pivot Fund, investing in journalism by and for marginalized communities.

Philly workers dealing with domestic violence, sexual assault, and stalking (DV/SA/stalking) have two separate job protections allowing them to take time away from work to handle issues without risking employment.

One is the city’s sick leave law, which lets workers use up to 40 hours of earned sick leave as “safe time,” including medical attention, relocation, counseling, legal help, and more. This can also be used to help a family member.

They stress that money itself is often a tool of control, as abusers often restrict access to things like bank accounts, IDs, paychecks, and even coerce some into not working at all. Many women, especially mothers, argue that “safe time” depends on how economically mobile they are and if the risk is worth it.

There is also a separate unpaid leave that can provide 4 to 8 weeks off, depending on the employer’s size.

Jointly, these protections cover both short-term needs, in hours, and longer-term disruption, in weeks. Still, advocates say steady income & concrete support, affordable housing, and workplace culture still determine whether people can actually use them.

For paid sick time, one can give an oral or written request. Absences longer than two consecutive days may require “reasonable documentation” from their employer, but the employer cannot ask for the details of violence.

The City advises giving an employer 48 hours’ notice, if you can, under the DV/SA/stalking leave law. They, too, may request documents like police/court records or a letter from professionals or organizations.

A person isn’t required to find someone to cover the hours to use this time.

Examples of reasonable documentation include:

• A healthcare provider note,
• A court order,
• A police report,
• A letter from an attorney, clergy, or a victim services organizational representative.

Sources say it can be fairly simple and straightforward when HR knows the policy, but experiences can vary vastly based on workplace culture and the clarity around the terms.

Christine Joy Brunson, founder and director of The Purple House, says, “We’ve actually wrote a letter for clients… and that’s worked.”

Philadelphia Legal Assistance’s (PLA) Family Law Attorney Amber McGee affirms: “I haven’t heard from anyone that their employer has not accepted that.”

But while these laws create an avenue to make “safe time” for those experiencing trouble, folks say gaps in pay, housing options, and employer follow-through leave survivors more vulnerable in some ways.

“It’s great that unpaid leave is available,” McGee says. “But it doesn’t resolve the issue of not having the funds to stay safe and to keep your family safe.”

Policy ≠ Reality, advocates say.

Crossroads Women’s Center’s Phoebe Jones holds that it’s the “hard help” that matters in these situations — how one can pay the rent or put food on the table. She says, plainly, that the time isn’t safe if they don’t have the money to live and navigate.

McGee says she’s witnessed folks unwilling to use the ordinance many times because they can’t actually afford not get paid.

The uncertainty of where they’ll stay and how they’ll recoup costs is sometimes less manageable than the already troubling circumstances.

At the Purple House Project, Brunson helps support survivors with education and programming to help transform their lives. Working on the ground, she sees flaws within systems that are meant to protect them.

“Shelters are inundated with wait lists in Philadelphia,” Brunson said to GIH. “So you want me to go every single day down to Cherry Street with my kids… and wait in line in hopes that I get placed at a place that I gotta share a room at every day?”

Jones says housing is already a daily emergency, based on the calls for support at the Center on Wayne Ave. “There’s not enough housing for people fleeing domestic violence. There’s not enough housing generally for low-income people,” she shares.

She also says there’s not enough income support to make alternative housing sustainable.

Tyra Wright-Johnson is the Founder and Director of The Women’s Solo Project, also aiding women experiencing these harms through an array of programming. She names survival, heavily associated with living expenses, as a main reason some folks stay in relationships where DV is involved.

“It’s unfortunate, but it happens because they’re so used to that particular party providing for them. And sometimes it gets very difficult. “

She shares her own experience, which she says happened on School House Lane decades ago: “I was there. It’s so hard being a parent of two. And I didn’t know how I was gonna do this, but I did it. I just had to press forward continually.”

For folks, there’s another clear problem — the awareness of it all.

Awareness gaps and social stigmas — by design?

Senior Project Manager of the Office of Domestic Violence Strategies, Elizabeth Pride, said in an email to GIH that while they don’t provide direct services to constituents, they often share information via social media on the resource because it’s “not as well-known as it should be.”

“Oftentimes [workplaces] don’t advertise [the ordinance],” shares Brunson. “I sometimes intervene and help people through the press. I’m like, give them this letter and check your work policy.”

Johnson says that because of the overall “nonchalant” nature of discourse around DV, a lot of folks don’t know about this ordinance and other protections. 

“I think it’s designed that way,” she says, calling it out as a systemic-level issue.

Brunson lends more to that sentiment, on a lower, social level. She says that even if folks know, some are still unclear about how they’re covered under the ordinance.

“A lot of people think everything else isn’t domestic violence-related. But the reality of it is… going to therapy…court hearings… switching your child’s school [and] school tours… all of those things are related.” Brunson shares.

She continues: “I think because it’s not like the day after the abuse when you’re calling out because you got a black eye, people [believe] it isn’t related to the violence… but it is. It’s all the residual stuff.”

Jones digs more heels into the systems thinking, lending a view of the harsh realities of why some women stay silent, in general.

“If a woman calls and says, I’m being abused, child welfare will come out and remove the child, not remove the mother and the child to someplace safe. They say, well, I’m sorry, you’re exposing the child to violence, therefore we’re taking your children.”

How people view their workplace is also a big factor as to why this “safe time” isn’t widely accessible, some believe.

Brunson leans back into a socialization perspective: “We’ve been told throughout the years to leave your personal stuff at the door… we have been conditioned to [feel that] once you get to work, turn off all the personal things that have happened and come right into work.”

She challenges this approach, saying “the personal affects how you show up to work, though.” She adds that if workplaces were more serious about their practices, they’d understand the potential “spill over” onto the clients.

As a service provider, she also says she’s heard “horror stories,” making it plain that oftentimes, “the empathy is just not there” within places of employment.

Johnson agrees, saying, “Employers don’t care. All they care about is the bottom line.”

And while retaliation is illegal, under the ordinance, Brunson and Johnson both believe there’s still the belief that it could happen, which keeps people unmotivated to get support.

Sources agree that for many, risking a job or paycheck risks the financial well-being of their household and children.

These can often create wider trust gaps, as Brunson says many folks already operate with “workplace trauma” based on prior experiences. And outside of the possibility of an unreliable HR department/person, Johnson says some folks just “fear they are going to be gossiped about.”

To that point, she asks, “How are you going to feel comfortable in sharing something so intimate about your life?”

On how ambiguity around the ordinance possibly manifests, PLA’s McGee points to the inconsistencies between policy and workplace enforcement.

While Philly’s DV/SA/stalking law does require employers to post a notice about the employee’s rights, advocates say many folks still don’t know about it until they’re in an emergency.

Johnson suggests that the HR professionals themselves may not even be fully aware of all the ins and outs of the ordinance, leaving victims with a lot of vagueness. Those uncertainties, she says, can make what’s someone’s right feel and appear much more optional.

On how to make better outcomes, sources name a few things.

Moving policy into practice: suggestions from advocates

Johnson suggests making it a part of “the onboarding process and updating it as a policy procedure.” She wants to make it a goal to begin educating HR professionals on the matter.

She also advises better communication and cohesion between organizations doing service work for survivors of violence. She says it makes for better resource sharing and outcomes.

Brunson, Johnson, Jones, and McGee concur that the most helpful support for a survivor is usually financial.

“Economic mobility is key,” Brunson says, emphasizing that survivors need money to choose safety.

It’s why she and Johnson offer educational programming like financial empowerment workshops through their respective organizations. They say going without it only exacerbates the chances of a return to an abuser.

“One of the ways abuse happens is through controlled finances,” reveals Brunson. 

“So a lot of times when people leave, they don’t even know how to pay their own bills… financial literacy is super important because now you have a fraction of the income that you once had. You know, how do you make it work?”

Without these economic foundations, they say, even legal protections can feel out of touch.

For Jones and the folks at the Center, wages for women should be automatic, acknowledging all the roles that women play, like mothers, caregivers, and community leaders, shaping neighborhood direction.

“Our whole thing is financial independence for mothers and caregivers. It’s when we have money in our hands that we have the power to refuse a lot of things, like abusive relationships to begin with,” she says. 

“We are fighting for things we need, which is unconditional cash.”

That’s why the Center seeks more research-centric responses to the effects of poverty for women of all backgrounds, but especially mothers, like seeking a new expansion of the federal Child Tax Credit.

Following the 2021 expansion, the national child poverty rate reached a record low of 5.2% in 2021. After the credit expired, the rate increased to 12.4% in 2022 and 13.7% in 2023.

“It lifted half of those kids out of poverty,” Jones says. She says that, now more than ever, women need these kinds of support with housing affordability crises and SNAP changes.

The folks of the Center advocate on the belief that poverty does not equal neglect, and that any conditions that can be improved through concrete support should not be offense for taking children from their mothers.

For a more practical right-away response, following incidents of domestic violence, McGee lifts Pennsylvania’s Victims Compensation Assistance Program, which can help cover certain crime-related expenses.

“It’s a reimbursement program, and it’s kind of the funder of last resort… they help with things like transportation costs. Again, reimbursement, they can pay for co-pays for therapy… and a lot of other great things.

Though policies stand, sources hold that the deciding factor is usually money, lifting that safety comes at a price — in more than a few ways. They say unpaid time off can catapult workers into the same cycles of instability they seek refuge from.

For Philly’s workers facing DV, legal protections allow flexibility “on the clock.” But advocates agree that only economic mobility creates the space to stay safe.

Germantown Info Hub is one of 30 news organizations powering the Philadelphia Journalism Collaborative. This article is part of a national initiative exploring how geography, policy, and local conditions influence access to opportunity. Find more stories at economicopportunitylab.com/.

Rasheed Z. Ajamu is Germantown Info Hub‘s engagement reporter. Their work blends service journalism with a place-based lens, tracking how local policy, development, arts + culture, and neighborhood institutions shape neighbors’ everyday lives. They’re also invested in community archiving and public media projects that help neighbors preserve and share Germantown stories.