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Silenced Voices of Abused Children

2/23/2015

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by Gwendolyn M Plano
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I am honored to welcome author Sherrey Meyer to this site. Her website, Healing Life's Hurts Through Writing, has inspired many authors to write from their heart. Among her many projects is a memoir of her "life with mama," an intriguing Southern tale of matriarchal power and control. Today's blog reflection provides a glimpse into Sherrey's memoir--and into the world of child abuse.

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A little spoken of tragedy in our world is the silenced voices of abused children. Voices silenced for a variety of reasons are a hindrance to well-adjusted lives and justice for these children. Their scars are invisible, etched in tiny hearts and minds forever.


I was born in 1946, the first year of Baby Boomers. Our parents adhered to firm rules of 1940s and 1950s etiquette and discipline. Mama and Daddy were firm believers in proper behavior from their offspring.

Some likely familiar phrases heard on a regular basis in our home included:

•  Children should be seen and not heard.
•  Children should not speak unless spoken to.
•  Children should stand when an adult enters or leaves a room.
•  Children will not talk back or sass their parents or other adults.
•  Children will not begin a conversation with an adult; always wait for the adult to start the conversation.

These are only a few of the rules laid down for children in our family and culture to follow. Some of these often heard rules instruct children to be silent in certain situations involving adults. These instructions lay a perfect foundation for silencing children who are victims of abuse.

My mother was abusive from an emotional and verbal standpoint on a regular basis. Her discipline tended to be less abusive on a physical scale. My first concrete memories of her are around the time I reached three or four. This age creates a critical juncture as we raise our children. As their “independence” begins to surface, it conflicts with our desire to still be in control.

No different than other children, I wanted to tie my shoes, brush my hair, and dress myself. Mama countered by telling me I did these tasks “all wrong.” I needed to practice. But if she wouldn’t let me try, how was I to practice? The longer I heard I did everything wrong, the more frustrated I became.

Finally, one day I shouted, “But I want to do it!” Mama’s hand landed squarely on my cheek. Its stinging force shocked me. I could feel tears burning my eyes but I didn’t want to cry. Tears always upset Mama, and Mama upset was not a good thing.

“You know better than to talk back to me. I’ve told you before you just don't do these things right. Until you tie your shoelaces right, brush your hair the right way, and pick out matching clothes to wear, you will not do them.”

Repeated instances of these episodes and the possibility of another strike across the cheek taught me to keep quiet and follow instructions.

Finally, I became a silent child when it was Mama and me. I knew a losing battle when I saw one and by about the age of 9 or 10, people described me as the “well-behaved, quiet little Adams girl.” If our family, friends, and neighbors had only known what was behind my quiet demeanor.

Unfortunately, the abused child faces frequent threats. Mama threatened us with the sting of Daddy’s belt across our legs. Often she threatened to kill herself in front of us, all in an attempt to bring us into her control. It does not take long for such threats to aid the child in discovering a way to avoid them. Usually, silence is the perfect way to sidestep the threats of an adult.

Often the perpetrator of sexual abuse threatens a child with hurting siblings or parents if the child tells anyone. This behavior on the part of the adult shuts a child down with these threats. The child becomes a silent protector of his/her family placing the adult in control unless he or she slips up.

Children are savvy enough to realize when authorities come by the family home too often. This is a sure sign of trouble. Parents may threaten a child not to say or do anything that will cause the authorities to take the child away or arrest the parents. Once again, the child’s voice goes silent.

Our foster care system was established and continues in place to assist in caring for children made wards of the state. All too often the money provided foster parents is the attractor, not a desire to care for the neglected or abused children. Foster parents are not beneath threatening children placed in their care. Once more a child or children are silenced before help can intervene.

It is not uncommon that neglected, abused, or abandoned children are placed with family members. All too often the same behaviors described above on the part of adults are committed by those seen as loving relatives.

In 1977, a Seattle judge conceived of an idea to help children appearing in the court system. The judge felt he must render decisions about these children without enough background information. The judge felt citizen volunteers could serve as the voices of these children. And the National Court Appointed Special Advocate (“CASA”) program was born.

Today there are 951 CASA programs as well as guardian ad litem programs training volunteers. These volunteers assist children caught up in the foster care system. Because there are insufficient volunteers, judges assign CASA volunteers to the most difficult cases.

Unfortunately, CASA cannot help the child still caught up in abuse and neglect until they become wards of the state. Silent and forgotten they have little hope of changes occurring in their lives.

My call to action to you today is to be watchful and listening. If you suspect a child you know is abused or neglected, contact the social services office in your area or police in your area.

Whatever action we take to give the children in our community a voice with which to protect themselves is far better than no action at all. Children deserve better than being silenced by adults who don’t care.

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Thank you, Sherrey, for your thoughtful piece. I think all of us can resonate with your experience of being silenced, for don't we all keep secrets in our hearts? If we are only as whole as the most vulnerable among us, we have much to do.  Thank you for drawing attention to this fact.

Sherrey's website is a testimony to the healing process of writing honestly and boldly. If you'd like to write to Sherrey, her email address is salice78@comcast.net. Below are anthologies in which she is featured.
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We are never alone...

2/21/2015

2 Comments

 
by Gwendolyn M Plano
PictureRev. Margaret Nock
Recently I was interviewed by Rev. Margaret Nock. One of her questions was, "What did you struggle the most with while writing Letting Go into Perfect Love?" 

This was an interesting question for me, because my book is about the journey of life, and as any of us can attest, the journey includes deep sorrows. I cried a lot when I wrote my book, because my heart was free to do so. But, my struggle was not about sorrows.

This is my response to Rev. Nock:

“My answer may surprise you. The most difficult writing task was sharing my experiences of angels. My career in education was built on logic and proven facts; my experiences of angels defied such knowledge. To publically share these encounters meant risking my academic credibility. The angel visitations were like nothing I had ever known before, and I felt very vulnerable writing about them. Yet, these ethereal beings were integral to my life story. In the end, I chose to speak my truth and let readers decide as they may.”


Perhaps you too find it difficult to speak or write about experiences of a spiritual nature. It feels risky to share that which cannot be quantified or analyzed in the traditional manner. But I wonder, in sheltering our hearts from possible judgment or rejection, are we holding this most precious part of ourselves captive?

Since publishing my book last summer, many readers have shared their spiritual experiences with me. I’ve listened to stories about deceased loved ones, about angelic interventions, about unexplained healing phenomena.  And though each story is unique, there is commonality. They, like me, realize--we are never alone, and we are deeply loved.

C.S. Lewis wrote, "Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see." And so I wonder, what would our world look like if we could see these miracles? 


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A February love story...

2/13/2015

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By Gwendolyn M Plano
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Our joys and our heartaches are curiously both unique and universal. The well-worn path upon which we trod has known the hopes of generations before us.

When I read Say It Out Loud by author Roberta Dolan, I knew we would be friends. Her travels have taken her through the thickets of life, and yet she has emerged victorious.

Roberta joins us today as a guest blogger. Her courage has rewritten her past and inspired many others to do the same. While we cannot escape adversity, we can transform our circumstance. Roberta writes about an important way to do just that. 

This is a special Valentine gift. Thank you Roberta!

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         I’m inspired to write about love today because it is February, my favorite month. You may think it’s my favorite because Valentine’s Day is around the corner and I’m a sucker for all the Hallmark hype. Or perhaps because my wedding anniversary is February 13 and after 33 years I’m still head over heels in love with my husband Tim.


Valentine’s Day and my anniversary are what make my heart flutter this month but that’s not the kind of love I want to talk about today. It’s a kind of love that isn’t advertised in card stores or jewelry store commercials. It’s a love we talk about the least and I think a kind of love that is most important:

Self-love

Do you love yourself? Really? If you asked me that question ten years ago I would have answered, sure I love myself. But in reality I didn’t even know what that could mean. Today, after years of therapy for a childhood of sexual abuse, after prayer and reflection, I can honestly answer—I’m getting there. Why is self-love so important?

Loving Others

When you love yourself you are truly able to love others. Self-love requires acceptance; acceptance of your strong points and weak, good qualities and bad, acceptance of the whole person. Loving others requires acceptance also. In order to truly love someone you must accept their good qualities and what you perceive as flaws. Remember that husband I’m so in love with? He enjoys being in the thick of the politics of an organization—something foreign to my make-up. When I recently asked him not to get involved he reminded me that getting involved is a part of who he is. It’s only a “flaw” in my mind because it’s something I’m not comfortable doing. Yes, loving him means accepting the qualities in him that are foreign to me.

How often have you really disliked a person but when you look closely you realize what you dislike in them is a characteristic you see in yourself? Without self-love and acceptance our scope of who we love and accept is limited.  

Living Your Best Life

By loving yourself you are free to be the best person you can possible be. There is no doubt in my mind that when we love and accept ourselves we are able to soar! The roadblocks of self-doubt are pushed aside and we can achieve all that we are meant to do on this earth. When I’m feeling good about me, accepting my strengths and weaknesses, I’m able to use those strengths to help others on their healing journeys, which I believe is my purpose in life.

Love Yourself

Do you really love yourself? Give it some thought. Be kind and embrace the person you are. Accept all the parts of you. If you do, I can assure you, you’ll feel the freedom to soar, to love others and become the best that you can be.


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Contact Information:


http://robertadolan.com/

Facebook.com/sayitoutloudbook

twitter.com/writetosurvive
  
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Author Roberta Dolan

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One more reason to love him....

2/3/2015

2 Comments

 
By Gwendolyn M Plano
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Last fall, I submitted a short reflection to the Rave Reviews Book Club for consideration in their anthology. My piece, One More Reason To Love Him, was selected. More than 30 authors participated in this venture which culminated in the RAVE SOUP FOR THE WRITER'S SOUL: An Anthology. 

If you enjoy variety, as well as acclaimed and purposeful writing, this is a book for you. My short refection follows; it is my Valentine to you.

                                       
                                        ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

    Shoulder to shoulder at street corners and nearby parking lots, thousands of us waited for the parade to begin. Children playfully waved little flags, gifted by local businesses, while the rest of us proudly wore our Red, White and Blue. It was Veterans Day 2013.
 


The crowd of spectators erupted in applause as a high school band marched past, playing John Philip Sousa’s “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” Then a vintage Ford Mustang convertible, carrying the Grand Marshal Larry Konzen, slowly followed their lead. Larry wore his WWII Army uniform, now decorated with the Purple Heart, Bronze Star and Combat Infantry Badge, and waved to the admiring crowd. The parade had officially begun.

One float after another passed by, but it was the streams of veterans, identified by branch of service and by military campaign, that caught my attention. Some had lost limbs, but those who were able-bodied marched in unison: the Army, the Navy, the Marines, the Air Force, the Coast Guard, men and women who had served their country—who had served all of us.

Larry had not wanted to be the Grand Marshal, explaining that there were many others more deserving than he. A modest man, he spoke of those who had served by his side against the Third Reich and did not return home. His military decorations were for them, he explained. This was a day of remembrance.

Months after the parade had passed, I noticed Larry at church, a quiet spoken, unassuming gentleman, respected by all. Well into his 90s, he was the first to reach out to help someone in need. Though I did not know him personally, I had become friends with his wife of sixty years—Margaret. Her fun-loving spirit endeared me to her and, in fact, she had become family to me.

Then one day, Larry approached me.

“Gwen, I read your book,” he said straightforwardly. “My wife gave it to me. And, I need to say something to you.”

I was stunned by his admission. I had forgotten that I had given my book to Margaret, and certainly did not think that she would share it with him. I was a little concerned about what he might say next. Did I offend him by something I wrote? I braced for the worst, but when I looked into his eyes, softened by age, I knew there was no reason for apprehension.

“I need to apologize to you,” he said, “on behalf of any man who would treat you poorly. I am sorry you suffered violence.” After pausing a bit, he continued. “I don’t know how you managed as you did, but I apologize again for what your former husband did.”  

I did not know what to say. A man who had endured bodily harm in the European theatre during World War II was apologizing to me. I stumbled for words, and none were forthcoming. I hadn’t expected this. When he said he wanted to speak with me, I thought he might want to congratulate me for finally publishing a book. But no, he wanted to apologize for something he did not do.

Speechless, I stared in disbelief, and then finally offered a simple, “thank you.”

“You shouldn’t have had to experience that, Gwen. No woman should experience that. It’s not right!” He said firmly. Then clasping my hand for just a second, he smiled and took his leave.

When I saw Margaret a few weeks later, I mentioned that her husband had spoken to me.

“Do you know what he said to me?” I asked.

“No, I didn’t even know he talked to you. But now I’m interested,” she said, smiling mischievously. “What did he say? I hope it was something good.”

As I recounted the story and his apologies, her eyes watered a bit and then she responded with just one line:

“Oh,” she said, “One more reason to love him.”

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Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way. ―Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning


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