The BDN feature, “No More Victims,” on the R.U.L.E. Program for sex offenders at Maine Correctional Center, referenced the “supervision and management after release” component that helps enable the low recidivism rates reported for graduates of similar programs. Continuing management is absolutely critical if communities are to realize the goal of No More Victims, but management can’t always mean probation, since many sex offenders may have served out their full sentence, and the state will have no further supervisory authority.

This is where the rest of us come in. Despite the great work of programs like R.U.L.E., there’s an essential community role for helping reduce sexual victimization, and if we’re truly going to be safer, some citizens will have to get involved. It’s no small challenge, and meeting it requires much more knowledge about sex offenders, their patterns of predation, and the kinds of circumstances that can trigger these behaviors. It also requires knowledge about the enduring and often traumatic struggles of those who have been sexually victimized. None of this is pretty, because sexual victimization is heartbreaking and contemptible. But if we avoid or ignore these critical post-release issues, little will change.

Providing support for victims/survivors who have been so terribly wounded is deeply gratifying, but it can be simultaneously enraging to think about the offenders who have done these things. At the same time, working with offenders who have done these things can be deeply disturbing, yet it’s gratifying to see them recognize and acknowledge their impact upon victims.

This is not a world many of us care to inhabit, and our challenge is to find the few citizens willing to provide deep and empathic support for survivors while simultaneously, rigorously (and supportively) promoting accountability among offenders. Because, considering the number of offenders coming up for release during the next months and years, we may be a critical part of the future of community supervision.

To some, this may sound impossible. How can we provide support for survivors and support for offenders? Can we work both sides of this dark street, where few offenders or survivors dare emerge from the shadows? Yes, we can. We can begin by acknowledging the fundamental truth that sexual victimization – at least by adults – is not simply a thoughtless misjudgment. It’s a devastating choice – made consciously, and sometimes with astonishing cunning. Ironically, just acknowledging this reality can enable us to work with it. But the greater challenge lies in learning more about the victim experience.

There are numberless victims/survivors out there who feel trapped and alone in their experience – even long after the offender has been arrested, tried, convicted, and incarcerated (or in the long empty aftermath of charges never filed). These survivors are serving a sentence of their own – one from which they rarely feel “released.” Especially in Maine’s own small communities, where the end of an offender’s sentence (often returning to their home counties), marks a new sentence for a survivor, and the rekindling of another nightmare: that she or he might unexpectedly encounter the offender.

Survivors of sexual violence and violation I’ve worked with have taught me that many victims/survivors feel alone because they think no one can hear them. It can be impossible for them to feel emotionally safe enough to express their pain. Thus, one of the greatest things we can do, should we find any who wish to talk about their experience, is be ready and willing to listen to them – without minimizing or disbelieving, or trying to “fix” them. This mere willingness to listen – so rarely experienced by survivors – is an attitude we can all embody.

If we want to make No More Victims a reality, this is the job before us: we must be willing to anchor our understanding of sexual victimization in victimization itself, and then in the victimizers. No one ever deserves to be sexually exploited or assaulted, but we must accept that there are many victims/survivors who are unable to give voice to their pain, so we must listen to the stories of the courageous few who feel able to speak. The fact is that sex offenders who have done terrible things are returning to our communities, and they cannot easily avoid old inclinations without continuing hard personal work.

We should especially remember that the more alone they are, and the more “secretly” they live, the harder it can be for them to avoid circumstances that can trigger inclinations toward victimizing behaviors. The solution, as hard as it might be to contemplate, is to enable them to somehow (and safely) be in community with us, and be accountable. How that happens, exactly, will require complex discussion, but communities could begin talking. The reality is that we must help keep our communities safe.

We won’t long be able to simply send offenders “somewhere else,” because all communities will be wrestling with this. Ultimately, we are the ones who can help protect against sexual victimization and promote offender accountability within a framework of support and connection, as difficult a challenge as it may seem. This, I believe, will be the new paradigm for community supervision. It’s a model of hope – for victims/survivors and for offenders. It’s also a model of civic courage.

Jon Wilson is director of JUST Alternatives, a nonprofit dedicated to promising victim-centered practices in justice and corrections.