When I was living in New York City and working at a domestic violence shelter, I would ride the subway every day on my way to work and back. There was a lot to be distracted by, the breakdancing kids with their flips and tricks, the chorus of elderly men that would make you smile with their sweet songs, and the brightly colored ads that would catch your eye. It was never dull, and usually entertaining, but what bothered me were the signs about domestic violence awareness. No matter what train I was on, the signs were always the same.