When it comes to gender-based violence (GBV) Canada has made legal and policy strides over the past decades, and indeed the past few years. Once viewed as a domestic matter, GBV is increasingly recognized as a public safety, public health and human rights issue.In 2022, for example, the National Action Plan to End Gender-Based Violence provided a shared framework to guide a co-ordinated national response with provinces and territories.Coercive control is now receiving greater legal recognition through the introduction of a new tort on intimate partner violence by the Supreme Court of Canada. And Bill C-16, the Protecting Victims Act, which was passed into law on June 18, creates a new offence of controlling conduct toward an intimate partner.Despite these legal and policy gains, and the momentum they have generated, support for frontline workers in this sector remains a missing link.Over the past two years — through a collaboration between the Vancouver Aboriginal Friendship Centre Society, the community stewardship of its director of operations Robyn Vermette and Simon Fraser University’s faculty of health sciences — we have conducted research into the experiences and work conditions of frontline workers in the anti-violence sector in British Columbia. We spoke to 66 frontline workers and 21 anti-violence sector leaders and government staff. What we found is a discrepancy between government commitments and realities on the front lines.Inadequate pay and burnoutLong-standing leaders in the anti-violence sector recalled the grassroots beginnings of the sector where GBV survivors were supported from kitchens of dedicated volunteers. They took us down memory lane, describing how the sector became increasingly formalized, professionalized and funded by the government from the 1980s on. While the Canadian government pronounced its responsibility in addressing GBV through law and policy, it handed off this expanded mandate to a non-profit sector without corresponding budgetary and technical resources.In many ways, the sector still consists of women volunteers working from kitchens — just now, the kitchens are underfunded organizations and shelters.One after another, the workers described precarious employment arrangements and unsafe work conditions. Heavy workloads and violence, particularly where survivors use substances or have mental health conditions, contributed to workers anxiety, depression and physical injuries.They narrated how work-related psychological stress manifested in physical ailments including persistent headaches, elevated blood pressure and body aches. Similar studies have reported burnout and related harms in workers. Limited organizational support meant workers did not have adequate access to psychological safety resources. Casual and part-time workers earned incomes below a living wage, making it challenging to provide for themselves and their families.While our research focused on B.C, the structural conditions we found mirror what similar studies and sector reports have described elsewhere in Canada.Precarious work by designThese working conditions stem from limited government accountability for resourcing national and provincial commitments to address GBV. A lack of sufficient resources to meet service demands and complex client needs ultimately puts pressure on workers’ well-being and working conditions.Heavy workloads and burnout become normalized when understaffing becomes a strategy organizations use to cope with limited resources. Precarious work also becomes a sector-wide characteristic, with casual or part-time positions and short-term contracts serving as a patchwork tactic to deal with understaffing. One worker from our research, who chose anonymity, explained:“Burnout is a reality. But in my organization, you are not allowed to bring it up. It’s one of those topics — because they believe that they’re doing everything to avoid it, but it’s happening.”Most frontline workers we spoke with joined the sector because of their personal histories and lived experiences, and considered their work a vocation or a calling. This strong commitment combined with heavy workloads and the emotionally engaging nature of their work increased the risk of burnout, vicarious trauma and moral distress. Compassion as a core value in the anti-violence sector and workers’ sense of responsibility towards GBV survivors was described as an Achilles’ heel that perpetuated a culture that normalizes overworking, undercompensation and psychological harm. Read more: Worker-led programs are tackling gender-based violence in supply chains, but they’re at risk Ways to fix a broken systemB.C.’s experience points to a responsibility federal, provincial and territorial governments share. They have a legal and moral responsibility to address these fault lines in Canada’s GBV response sector. The current momentum provides a unique opportunity for governments to tangibly back up their commitments.A thriving anti-violence sector can better support its workers, who can in turn better help GBV survivors benefit from expanding legal protections. With that said, a systemic reckoning should include:Sufficient and sustainable funding for core operations in the anti-violence sector.Long-term and stable jobs with access to benefits for frontline workers.A living wage for frontline workers, with an accountability framework to monitor sector wages.Workplace safety through workload regulation and management, supported by sufficient training and union engagement.Structured organizational supports for worker wellness and positive work culture policies.Robyn Vermette, director of operations at Vancouver Aboriginal Friendship Centre Society, also contributed to this piece.Alice Mũrage receives funding from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research. The research project which informs this piece was funding through Women and Gender Equality Canada (WAGE). Julia Smith has received funding from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research and Health Research BC.