CA survey asks crime survivors what we need

By Jess Nicol, especially for CalMatters

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When I was 12 years old, my sister, Polly Klaas, was kidnapped from our bedroom and killed. Subsequently, I have watched lawmakers use grieving families—including our own—to sell the public on legislative policies that have already been written.

Polly’s name became synonymous with fear. And California’s three-strikes law passed the Legislature.

Here’s what lawmakers didn’t do: ask what would help us heal, what would make us feel safer, or what kind of system we actually want.

They were looking for pain that they could turn into a weapon. And it worked. Politicians simply assumed they knew what the victims wanted and used our grief to push an agenda that had little to do with actual safety or healing.

I’ve spent years watching survivors’ voices get co-opted — how our pain becomes a tool for policies that don’t serve us. Pauley’s story became shorthand for “tough on crime” and was used to justify mass incarceration, even though research shows that victims overwhelmingly prefer rehabilitation and community investment in longer prison sentences.

The gap between what we’re told victims want and what we actually need seems impossible to close. That’s why I’m so excited about what’s happening right now in California.

For the first time, University of San Francisco researchers are surveying crime victims, survivors and their family members who have participated in parole hearings for someone who has harmed them or their loved ones.

The the survey asks simple but radical questions: What was your experience really like? What did you need that you didn’t get? What would help?

This may not sound revolutionary, but it is. For generations, legislators have claimed to speak for victims as they pass laws without ever asking us what we really think.

What would make the difference

This study reverses that scenario. It was developed with victims and survivors over several months, ensuring that the questions reflect our real concerns – not what politicians think we care about.

It asks what support we’ve received (or not), how we’ve been treated by the system, what resources would make a difference, and what reforms we believe would help others walking this difficult path.

It is crucial that victims and survivors lead this process, not as token voices brought in after decisions are made, but as co-creators.

The poll is open until November 30. Findings will be shared with policymakers, advocates and community leaders to ensure that the voices of victims and survivors guide future reforms.

I know first hand how rare this is. When Polly died in 1993, grief counselors and victim advocates would have helped our family immensely, but these services were almost non-existent.

Instead we got media control and political theater. Her story has been used to justify laws that incarcerate people of color for low-level crimes—the exact opposite of the justice and safety these laws promise.

If someone had asked us what we needed back then, we would have said grieving time, mental health support, and a system that recognizes us as victims in need of care, not as props for a political agenda.

Our experience matters – not as a talking point – but as a truth that can shape what follows.

I’ve learned through my own healing journey that real change happens through connection, understanding, and true accountability—not through punishment, shame, or control.

The same goes for politics. When we create laws based on the experiences and needs of victims and survivors, rather than fear or political calculations, we build systems that serve healing and safety instead of systems that perpetuate harm.

For so long, I’ve carried the burden of knowing that my sister’s story has been used to build systems that don’t work—that hurt communities, that don’t make us safer, and that don’t reflect what victims really need.

This research represents something different: a chance to build politics based on truth rather than fear, on healing rather than retribution, in the voices of those who have experienced violence rather than those who use it.

This feels like hope. And we could all use a little more of that right now.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and is republished under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-No Derivatives license.