Johnson County victim coordinator draws from his own life story

His career path slightly changed, but he remained committed to helping the most vulnerable people through the court system and providing them with needed resources to continue their lives after a horrible crime.

Chris Cruz, 38, said he planned to be a police officer after graduating from high school and never considered going to college — until he received some advice from officers. They told him getting a degree would increase his chances of getting hired. The officers said it would show the “higher ups” in the department that he was committed to doing the work and gaining more knowledge.

But Cruz had no idea going to college would change his plans for the future. It opened up his world and showed him there might be other ways to help besides being in law enforcement.

“Officers are usually there after the fact to investigate a crime and that’s it,” Cruz said. “I started thinking about the victims of those crimes and how do they pick up the pieces. How can I help support them after the crime?”

Cruz, now a victim/witness coordinator with the Johnson County Attorney’s Office, believed his calling was to help those crime victims navigate the legal process as they go to pretrial hearings and understand what comes next, and then help them find resources to heal.

Personal understanding

Cruz understands struggling in life because he grew up in poverty in California. Circumstances not within an individual’s direct control can make that person vulnerable.

He witnessed it firsthand with his mother: She immigrated from Guatemala to California as an 18-year-old and only spoke Spanish. But she was determined to teach herself English by watching TV shows with subtitles to understand what the words meant.

Cruz said he learned Spanish at home and then learned English at school.

His mother had followed in the footsteps of her older brothers who came to the United States years before. She illegally entered the United States, but became a naturalized citizen later, he said. His mother always told him how Guatemala was “dangerous” and he didn’t have any desire to visit there.

While in Los Angeles, his mother cleaned houses in Beverly Hills and his father, who immigrated from El Salvador, was a gardener. But they split up early in Cruz’s life, and his mother was the sole supporter for him and his five siblings. Later, he gained two more siblings after she remarried.

His family received food stamps and he can’t forget the large tubs of peanut butter with “all the oil on top, and the big blocks of cheese that wasn’t great, but it was food.” It was expensive to live in California, and the family was homeless at times.

The owner of one of the house’s his mother cleaned was kind to his family and tried to help. He remembered getting his first toy — a firetruck — from the woman, which had been her son’s.

Cruz and his family moved to Iowa when he was 11. They came to Ottumwa, where his two uncles were working at a meatpacking company, formerly Excel and now JBS.

Cruz recalled the summer day he got off the train in Iowa as the “worse day” of his life. He was coming from a huge city to rural Iowa, and he felt the humidity for the first time.

“It felt like if you washed some towels, didn’t dry them and then covered yourself with them,” Cruz recalled. “That’s what it felt like. It was so hot. I thought … we messed up.”

Cruz, while pursuing a criminal justice major and minor in psychology at Buena Vista College, a satellite campus in Ottumwa at the time, started to decide law enforcement wasn’t his path. At the time, his sister was working as a sexual assault advocate in Wapello County and she suggested he apply for an opening as a violent crimes advocate with Crisis Intervention Services.

Cruz applied and got the advocate job based in Oskaloosa. The nonprofit helps victims of domestic assault, sexual assault and other violent crimes, serving 13 counties in Southeast Iowa.

At the same time, he also decided to back to school to earn a master’s in criminal justice, which wasn’t easy. He would need to work on a paper but was called out for his job, which could be day or night. It was tough with little sleep and time to study, but he ultimately earned his master’s from St. Ambrose University in Davenport.

After working for the nonprofit for five years, he knew had to earn more to pay off his student debt, so when the victim/witness coordinator opened in Johnson County, nearly four years ago, he applied.

“I’m grateful to Rachel (Zimmermann Smith, Johnson County attorney) for hiring me,” Cruz said. “I’m privileged and honored. I’m still learning how to be better.”

Zimmermann Smith said Cruz brings a “unique perspective” to the “amazing” victim/witness services team because of his background and life experiences.

“He makes people feel comfortable when they have to come into the courthouse and don’t feel comfortable,” Zimmermann Smith said. “Johnson County is lucky to have a group of caring professionals who are dedicated to supporting victims and witnesses through the court process.”

Cruz works “diligently to support victim-survivors” as they navigate the justice system, said Delaney Dixon, assistant executive director of the Domestic Violence Intervention Program.

“With a deep understanding of the emotional and psychological challenges that victims face after experiencing trauma, he takes the time to explain legal processes in clear and accessible language, ensuring that clients feel informed and empowered,” Dixon said.

He also has a “comforting presence” for those feeling overwhelmed or intimidated by the court system. He builds “genuine and trusting relationships, not only with victims, but also with his colleagues and community stakeholders.”

Different perspective

Being a male coordinator is uncommon, but it can help when a man is a victim because he may feel more comfortable talking to Cruz — especially when a man has been the victim in a domestic abuse or sexual assault and may feel ashamed or embarrassed.

Cruz is one of only seven men employed as victim/witness coordinators in county attorney offices in Iowa, compared with about 99 women in those positions, according to a state roster.

Being male also could mean a female crime victim may not be comfortable with him. But he said he understands that, and asks one of his female coworkers to replace him.

Cruz also is an asset by being fluent in Spanish for non-English speaking victims. If the language barrier is eliminated, it helps the process go more smoothly. It’s difficult sometimes to get crime victims to open up, so making them comfortable is the goal.

“I try to be an active listener, let them vent and I may have to be their punching bag,” Cruz said. “It’s OK if it makes them feel better. It’s part of the job.”

The most difficult part of his job is seeing the same victims several times, which can happen in domestic cases.

“You want them to succeed in life and overcome what could have been the most horrible thing that happened,” Cruz said.

The easiest part of his job is working with his coworkers.

“They are amazing to work with, especially in a job as taxing as this one,” Cruz said.

Comments: (319) 398-8318; trish.mehaffey@thegazette.com