
Ten dial tones, three long rings. Then, a voicemail greeting.
Calls to BRAVE Bay Area’s 24/7 crisis hotline don’t always connect to a live voice on the other end, because the phone lines at the nation’s first nonprofit rape crisis center haven’t operated around the clock — as advertised — for years.
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When survivors across the Bay Area arrive at hospitals and police stations for help — or choose to dial (510) 800-4247 on their own — the historic rape crisis center is missing hundreds of calls a month because “we’re just not answering the phone,” according to one of the last seven people on staff by May, who requested anonymity due to fear of retaliation.
Still known to many by its original moniker — Bay Area Woman Against Rape (BAWAR) — the organization has promoted itself as a space for trauma-informed care, advocacy and other free resources for survivors of sexual and gender-based violence in Alameda County since 1971.
Long-term, unsustainable strain on income streams and fundraising efforts has forced the organization to wind down operations at its San Leandro service center this fall, and shutter entirely by the end of September, according to Leah Kimble-Price, BRAVE Bay Area’s executive director, and Karen Schoonmaker, who chairs the nonprofit’s board.
But that’s not the full story, according to past and present staff and local advocates, who say years of numerous reorganizations, scheduling conflicts and rapid staff turnover have curtailed ongoing service capacity and the soon-to-be-shuttered organization’s 54-year-old mission.
After several attempts to resolve issues internally, BRAVE Bay Area’s advocates say poor leadership has contributed to nearly 40 employees leaving since Kimble-Price took over as executive director in July of 2020, a number confirmed in records reviewed by this news organization.
Kendall Butler felt like she had to walk away in January as BRAVE Bay Area’s volunteer training coordinator because the nonprofit failed to comply with California state compliance standards for hotline operators, which she said created not only questions about the hotline’s quality of service but also potential legal vulnerabilities.
Staff members say the rape crisis center has long followed strict, state-mandated operational standards — the strings that came alongside funding from the California Governor’s Office of Emergency Services. Some of those rules required centers to serve at least as many survivors as the number of forcible rapes reported to police in their local network, while counselors working the phone lines were required to respond within 10 minutes, as well as recontact clients within three working days. Of all people who call the crisis line for help, staff aimed to connect at least 45% with follow-up services.
Each of those elements was removed from the new guidelines handed out in late 2024, as was the requirement to offer 24-hour advocacy services, according to documents obtained by this news organization.
However, Butler said a bigger problem was that BRAVE Bay Area had failed to fulfill internal training requirements for years prior, leaving many volunteers without a certified curriculum or continuing education.
“Laws and regulations are created for training so that people don’t perpetrate more harm on those hotlines for people that are already being harmed,” Butler said. “This is outside of my morals, and I feel really stressed about this.”
Butler and other local advocates say BRAVE Bay Area’s consistent failure to connect callers with a real listening ear results in a lonely and potentially dangerous dead end for anyone reaching out for help.
“When those services are available and they do work, it’s amazing, incredibly beautiful, and I’ve seen the impact. I think that’s what keeps bringing me back to it — there’s nothing like true human connection that has the capacity to heal,” Butler said.
The day after Butler resigned, the organization’s survivor services navigator also resigned, while Kimble-Price announced its director of programs was going to be transitioning to a part-time role.
In the closure notice shared on BRAVE Bay Area’s website last month, executives bluntly rejected concerns that BRAVE Bay Area is “giving up” and bowing to hostile political forces. Instead, Kimble-Price and Schoonmaker commended the legacy they’ve helped build, both as an organization and within the broader net of resources available in the East Bay.
“Sometimes, the most courageous action is recognizing when passing the torch will better serve the cause we all believe in,” the co-signed May 5 statement said. “Our decision is not surrender — it is a strategic realignment of resources in service of the broader movement.”
They said 92% of BRAVE’s operating budget is dependent on federal funding, and other resources and reserves that helped weather previous threats to rape crisis center funding have been depleted.
“Today’s reality is starkly different: decreased volunteer capacity, paired with necessary and long-overdue labor standards in our field, mean that we would need to double our current workforce — with 30% less funding than last year — to meet the minimum level of service that survivors deserve,” the statement said. “Rather than depleting our resources in an unsustainable struggle that would ultimately compromise the quality of care for survivors, we are choosing to thoughtfully transition our services and institutional knowledge to partners who are positioned to weather these challenges.”
Kimble-Price did not return multiple requests for comment on the allegations by current and former staff members.
The nonprofit highlighted several economic challenges while explaining its closure. In addition to a 2015 state law that established comprehensive but expensive standards for rape crisis centers across California, leadership also said service capacity and funding at BRAVE have steadily declined since the pandemic lockdown.
“We believe the most responsible path forward is to step aside and make space for stronger-resourced organizations to carry the work forward,” Kimble-Price and Schoonmaker said in their statement, thanking the numerous staff, volunteers, funders and community partners who will be impacted by BRAVE’s closure. “Above all, we honor the courage and resilience of the survivors who have trusted us with their stories and healing journeys.”
Sarah Lance, associate director of care at UC Law San Francisco, is also the campus’s free, confidential advocate for students, faculty and staff impacted by sexual violence, harassment, stalking and domestic violence. California law requires that public schools across the state have a designated confidential social advocate. While some hire internally, CSU East Bay, UC Law SF and others contract with local crisis centers like BRAVE Bay Area to make sure that role is filled.
Sarah Lance, Director of Care for UC Law, San Francisco—a free, confidential advocate for students, faculty, and staff affected by sexual violence, harassment and other traumatizing issues—sits for a portrait at her home in Oakland, CA on Sunday, June 1, 2025. (Don Feria for Bay Area News Group)
Lance said she hasn’t heard any official communication from BRAVE Bay Area officials about the closure, leaving uncertainty about her options in the fall.
“To hear that BRAVE Bay Area is closing and the employees are the ones that are reaching out and wanting to support the mission, it’s upsetting because it’s such a big loss,” Lance said, later adding that it will be difficult for other local orgs to fill the gap once BRAVE Bay Area stops providing services for domestic violence survivors and other Bay Area residents in crisis.
“People are going to have to wait longer,” Lance said. “Think about how hard it is to find a therapist — people give up. Can you imagine being unsafe and scared, calling somebody for help and not being able to get that? What do you do then?”