An Introduction to This Might be Useful 

A letter from me to you - Basically good. 

I (Anna Bellows, a 20-year-old intern working at NOVA this summer) was raised in a Buddhist-Quaker family. My mother is a Quaker, and my father is a Buddhist. Drawing sporadically from the teachings of the religions of both my parents, the one line that rings through my childhood is this: "We are Basically Good." This line, written on the chalkboard in my childhood home, became the lens through which my brothers and I saw the world. At the very core of every person, at the most basic level, is good.

Now, clearly, we are not all able to show up in this world as that self – I, for one, certainly have not figured out how to. Life experience sometimes requires that we pull up layers around that most basic self. Tucking ourselves snugly into a safe bundle of survival mechanisms, ignorance, trauma, or privilege. These blankets of self-preservation create layers between the world and our basic good, meaning that some show up in this world as cruel or violent. But as I have moved through this world–as an advocate, and as a young person who grew up in the most politically fragmented time since the Civil War – I have worked to see or believe in that most basic goodness.

I was asked to create a blog for this remarkable and passionate group of NOVA Members. From a place of deep humility and with an understanding of the expertise and experience of this audience, I believe one thing I can offer is emotional honesty. What does that mean?

I will not present myself as the authority on anything I discuss. I am not. As an advocate, I try, as part of my practice, to check my ego, and let me tell you – this is the opportunity of a lifetime to do that. I will share a weekly “crash course” – breaking down policy, legal, and administrative topics that we could all do for a refresher on. While all I have shared about myself thus far is an anecdote about my childhood, there is a fair bit of substance on top of all this emotional honesty.

I will not be saying “it's all ok, we will get through it together”. I happen to think we just might, but who's to say? Certainly not me. I will be highlighting the exceptionally good people and work that exists in this field. Perhaps I will share a thing or two from the week that has made me laugh or helped me believe in us a bit more.

Each week, I will try to write in my voice (although likely not this much) from my perspective, and without pretense or pretension. I will try to continue to remind us in these most uncertain and trying times – to stay connected, to notice the community that’s already here, and to share the good we each bring to it.

Stick with me... I think This Might be Useful

A Crash Course on This Might Be Useful

In this preview of the column, I wanted to start with a crash course on something easy. Believe it or not, the name of this column took a lot of consideration. There were many versions that played on the whole Nova-as-a-star thing. A few that riffed on my last name, Bellows (as in to yell very loudly). My mother suggested “Anna-loges,” which I might bring back if I ever start a substack. I landed on This Might Be Useful because of the Marge Piercy poem “To Be of Use.”

As a student in this most important moment, I have found myself aching to help. I chose the word “useful” intentionally, not because I think anything I am sharing is particularly groundbreaking, but because I want to offer you something to work with. “Helpful” felt too soft, too one-sided – something that I would be trying to dole out. I want this column to be a nice read, but I also want it to be useful.

Might was a controversial but purposeful choice as well. I don't mean might as in “I don't know if this is any good.” I would not write it if I did not think it was valuable. Might is not to be read as a lack of confidence or downplaying the value of the work I have done— it’s about respecting that usefulness looks different for everyone. I trust that you will take what is useful to you, leave what isn't, and return if something new catches your eye. I want you to read the title of this column as a genuine offering: an explanation, a resource, and a cathartic expression of emotional honesty. I have talked rather extensively about myself in this piece so I will wrap this up with the words of Marge Piercy. You are the people that she speaks about and that I love:

“I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,

who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,

who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,

who do what has to be done, again and again.”

A Resource for the Road - The Trevor Project

This Pride Month, I want to uplift an organization that many of us know and trust: The Trevor Project. For over 25 years, this organization has been a lifeline for young LGBTQ+ people. As I was writing this column, I received a notification on my phone that what I had planned to warn about in this post had happened: The Trevor Project received a stop-work order from the Department of Health and Human Services to provide specialized support to LGBTQ people calling into the 988 suicide prevention hotline.

In 2024, Trevor Project counselors answered calls from over 500,000 people. The New York Times reports that 231,000 came through the 988 line. This means that after the destruction of the 988’s L.G.B.T.Q. Line, those 230,000 people will not be connected to counselors trained to respond to their unique needs and lived experiences. Now more than ever, it is crucial for advocates to be aware of this resource.

The Trevor Project offers free, confidential crisis support 24/7 via phone, text, and online chat. Beyond crisis support, Trevor also runs TrevorSpace — a moderated online community where LGBTQ+ young people ages 13 to 24 can safely connect with peers across the country.

Happy Pride Month, Everyone. I hope this was useful.

A Letter from Me to You:

Well, hello there! What a pleasure it is to have you back on this page. If the tone I am using in this letter is already taking you aback, I would encourage you to read the previous issue to get a sense of what we are doing in this column. In this week's letter from me to you, I want to share how I was first introduced to this work, especially as it ties spectacularly to the crash course for this week. The summer before my senior year in high school, I had the opportunity to intern with a small law firm in Boston, Massachusetts. The months that followed were some of the most challenging and purpose-driven of my life. It was through the stories of those clients and the fellow advocates working around the clock to protect them that I first began to understand the intersection of legal systems, administrative policies, cultural identity, systemic barriers, and personal agency that defines the field of immigration law. In the field of victim advocacy, we often see the personal experiences of individuals intersect with the options we can offer. Immigration status and its bearing on the life and safety of victims of crime is what I want to scratch the surface of today. 

Stick with me... I think This Might be Useful

A Crash Course on T/U Visas - Immigrant Survivors of Crime

Now that we’re off to the races with this column, I found it hard to write my second crash course on anything other than the unique challenges that immigrant victims of crime face. In an effort to make this information widely applicable and as useful as possible, I want to focus narrowly on an area of immigration law that directly affects this population: T Visas, U Visas, and the VAWA Self-Petition.

Many of us intuitively understand that public health and safety depend on everyone having the option to report to law enforcement when they have been harmed. When a significant portion of the population cannot safely report crime or abuse, the consequences are twofold. First, it denies survivors the recourse, protection, and support they deserve. Second, it poses a broader public safety risk, allowing individuals who cause harm to do so without accountability, and potentially continuing to harm others. The T/U non-immigrant visas were created by Congress under the Trafficking Victims Protection Act of 2000 with bipartisan support to reduce these harms, assist law enforcement in their investigation of certain serious crimes, and to help ensure that survivors do not have to choose between deportation and safety.

The T Visa is available to individuals who are survivors of human trafficking, including labor trafficking, sex trafficking, or both. To qualify, a person must demonstrate that they are a victim of a severe form of trafficking, that they are physically present in the U.S. on account of trafficking, and that they have complied with any reasonable request from law enforcement in investigating or prosecuting the crime (with exceptions for minors or survivors unable to cooperate due to trauma). If approved, T Visa holders receive temporary legal status, work authorization, and the ability to apply for permanent residency (a Green Card) after three years.

The U Visa applies to a broader range of serious crimes that happened in the United States, including domestic violence, sexual assault, stalking, and kidnapping, among others. To qualify, an individual must show that they suffered substantial physical or emotional abuse as a result of the crime, and that they were helpful, are being helpful, or are likely to be helpful to law enforcement in the investigation or prosecution. Like the T Visa, the U Visa provides temporary legal status and work authorization, with the possibility of applying for permanent residency later.

Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) Self-Petition allows for an abused spouse or child of a U.S. citizen or permanent resident to petition for status without the knowledge of their abuser. Where family might usually depend on the sponsorship of their U.S. citizen/permanent resident spouse or parent to get status in the U.S., a VAWA Petition allows for an abused individual to do so independently. Advocates should, of course, always connect survivors with specialized legal organizations such as the Immigrant Legal Resource Center (ILRC), which is a terrific guide to support advocates working on VAWA cases.

I am sorry to say that here I must add a caveat to all of this good news and progressive legislation. These protections are far from perfect. T and U Visa applicants face years-long backlogs, during which survivors often live in legal limbo. The annual cap on U Visas—set at 10,000—has not been updated since the program’s creation, despite growing need. Most survivors are also required to engage with law enforcement, a condition that fails to account for the fear, mistrust, and systemic barriers many face when deciding whether to come forward. While far from perfect, these forms of relief remain essential tools for both individual and broader public safety. 

These forms of humanitarian relief represent some of the only legal pathways available to immigrant survivors of serious crimes—individuals who have experienced significant harm and, in many cases, have already demonstrated extraordinary courage by cooperating with law enforcement under difficult and often dangerous circumstances. Efforts to end, discredit, or strip protections from T and U Visa holders do not serve anyone. Undermining these pathways not only retraumatizes survivors but also discourages future reporting, erodes community trust, and allows cycles of violence to continue. These legal protections exist because Congress recognized the need for them and unless Congress decides otherwise, they must be respected, upheld, and left intact.

A Resource for the road - Alliance for Immigrant Survivors 

If there is any organization or coalition that is truly meeting the moment and the needs of the people it represents, it is the Alliance for Immigrant Survivors. Co-Chaired by The Asian Pacific Institute on Gender-Based Violence, ASISTA Immigration Assistance, Esperanza United, and Tahirih Justice Center, this organization's work on policy guidance, rapid response, resource aggregation, and powerful storytelling has left a mark on the entire field. On a personal note, the Tahirih Justice Center is one of the primary reasons I discovered the work being done to add gender as a basis for asylum – they truly changed my life. 

Over the spring, AIS conducted a survey of advocates and survivors to work to determine the impact that increased immigration enforcement has had on survivors' ability to access help. If you’re looking for a way to learn more or ensure your own work is informed by the realities immigrant survivors face, AIS is a resource worth bookmarking. 

Thank you all… I hope this was useful

A Letter from Me to You:

In sharing with one of my mentors how heartbreaking the work of victim advocacy can feel, she responded that “the only thing more heartbreaking would be to do nothing at all.” I would go one step further and say that the most heartbreaking thing would be to do this work alone. The memories of the communities that I have witnessed and been invited into are the single most important tool that I will take away from this summer. Let me share about a few that I have had the honor to watch in action.

The first is the NOVA team. As we prepare for NOVA’s 51st annual conference—this year themed Celebrating Community—I’ve had the honor of watching and joining our staff pull off the impossible: making a national, virtual conference feel personal, connected, and alive. In the final sprint of a year’s work, I’ve seen every member of this team prioritize accessibility, build in moments of joy, and center the people on the other side of the screen. 

The second is the Community Violence Intervention (CVI) field—advocates, legal professionals, and front-line workers partnering with individuals most at risk of being involved in gun violence. I have just gotten to glance at this summer, and has multiple times left me on the brink of tears, goosebumps running down my arms from the brilliance and fiery dedication of every leader. On a call facilitated by the Community Violence Legal Network to update the community after a crushing court ruling, one leader said “If you are more scared of losing your job or of your single organization going under than the people getting shot in the streets, then you have no business in the movement.” In a moment of existential threat to the field, advocates from around the country continue to, in community, rally around the work that they know is saving lives. 

Finally in preparation for this week's crash course on Title IX, I had the opportunity to speak with nationally renowned attorney and advocate Cari Simon. It was a professional privilege to speak with such a force in the field. However, even more lasting will be the knowledge as a young advocate, college student, and fellow policy buff, that people as precise, rigorous and defiant as Cari Simon have created the path that I plan to follow and the field that I will contribute to.

Community and mentorship are the best conduit I have come across for our most basic good. 

Stick with me... I think This Might be Useful

A Crash Course on Title IX

Cari Simon is a nationally recognized Title IX attorney and Harvard Law School graduate who represents survivors of sexual and gender-based violence in educational settings. Through her impact litigation she has played a key role in expanding Title IX protections to include stalking, dating violence, and off-campus misconduct, and is widely regarded as an expert in gender violence law and policy.

Title IX is first and foremost a law to protect one's access to education, free from discrimination on the basis of sex. Title IX prohibits discrimination on the basis of sex in educational institutions that receive federal funding. It does so in just 37 words — words which, in my senior year of high school, I memorized to impress my superintendent and now recite occasionally as a remarkably boring party trick. But those 37 words have carried enormous weight. I could speak for far longer than you might want to read about Title IX, and then twice as long as that about the conversation I was lucky enough to have with Cari Simon. However, the purpose of the Crash Course is to look at aspects of this field's work that may go underrepresented, so in this discussion on Title IX, I want to focus on the resources and remedies that Title IX provides beyond the disciplinary and grievance procedure that I believe get far more coverage. 

Known as “Supportive Measures” in the current federal guidance, Ms. Simon says the remedies available through Title IX are “the heart of what this law can really do.” While Title IX is often discussed in terms of investigations and hearings, these remedies are what allow students to continue with their education and begin to heal in the aftermath of trauma. Title IX was created to preserve education, to preserve what Horace Mann, a pioneer of American public schools in the 19th century called the “great equalizer.” 

The last thing a survivor should be thinking about in the aftermath of harm, is the effect that it will have on future career opportunities, graduate school applications, and academic reputation. Yet because the harm is perpetrated in this pivotal moment of one's young life, these are often some of the first concerns. It is the ethical and legal responsibility of the academic institution to consider this for the survivor – maybe relieve their student from at least part of their pain. 

What are these remedies? More than you might think. They can include academic accommodations: the reconsideration of a low grade on a transcript, retaking a test or extensions on coursework. It could be changes to class or housing assignments, no-contact directives, campus escort services, or access to mental health support. Importantly, these measures need to be offered regardless of whether a student chooses to file a formal complaint. The goal is to reduce the immediate barriers a student might face—missed classes, safety concerns, mental health challenges—and to restore equal access to educational programs. I could not possibly put it better then Cari Simon: “Your grades should be reflective of your merit – not your rape.”
That quote will stick with me because of how deeply it reflects the spirit of this law when it’s working the way it should. Title IX is at its best when it functions as a safety net ready to catch students who might otherwise leave education, closing doors to their future opportunities. And that only works when institutions commit to protecting all students. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to write about Title IX without addressing how it’s being used—and misused—in debates around LGBTQ+ inclusion.

As a young advocate and female athlete recruited to compete at the Division I level, Title IX has always symbolized opportunity and fairness to me. It has been deeply painful to watch it used in ways that exclude the LGBTQ+ community. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to speak with Cari Simon on this issue, but I could not bring myself to discuss Title IX without mentioning the current state of the law. “Sex” itself—now understood in law and policy to include not just biological categories, but the full range of sex-based expectations, including those related to gender identity and expression. The legal reasoning of this is simple: you cannot punish someone for failing to conform to sex-based expectations without engaging in sex-based discrimination. Title IX was written to prohibit sex-based discrimination. It was never meant to enforce rigid gender roles or decide who qualifies as “woman enough” to participate. 

Title IX’s power lies not in its clarity, but in its capacity to evolve—its ability to meet the needs of Supportive measures are not footnotes to the legal process—they are the process for many. They are what keep the promise of Title IX alive, especially for those who never file a formal complaint. In my conversation with Cari Simon, I was reminded that law can be both a shield and a scaffold—not only a way to respond to harm, but a way to build students back up. If we forget that, we lose sight of what Title IX was meant to do in the first place. I will wrap it up here but before I do I am excited to share that Cari Simon will be presenting at this year's NOVA 51 Conference, and I for one would not miss her session for the world. 

Thank you all, I hope this was useful.

A Resource for the road - NOVA 51 Conference  

The NOVA team recently demonstrated the NOVA51 conference interface to the staff. I must admit, when I first heard about a conference with workshops that were all going to happen online, I had a picture in my mind that may have been reminiscent of my Zoom school days. How insulting, I know. This is anything but that.

In a year where the theme is Celebrating Community, NOVA has built a space that reflects it. The platform is accessible, easy to navigate, and designed in a way that encourages people to actually connect rather than just to log on and listen. NOVA51 is shaping up to be more than any conference I could have imagined.

I’m looking forward to attending—not just because I’m proud of the team that pulled it off, and not just because Cari Simon is speaking (though that alone is worth showing up for)—but because this feels like the kind of space our field needs right now. This year's conference will provide an opportunity to come together and celebrate the community of victim advocacy and crisis responders.