Chronicle of a Silence Endured. Guido da Verona
is to isolate their prey, and through the practice of secrecy and manipulation, make the victim understand that they too are responsible for maintaining the silence. So the venom’s voice is: “After all, it could not be taking place without your mutual consent. You are also letting this happen.” Predators are experts at turning the tables on their victims and making them believe that this too is their victims’ desire.
On a deeper scale still, there is great evil that is called upon for motivation to be a predator. Predators plan their plan well in advance and with great attention to detail. Before even a single finger is laid on the victim, they have a journey they must make in order to make peace with what they are about to do; they must first overcome the enormous ethical hurdles of having sex with a child.
Christopher Kearney explains,
First, the perpetrator must be motivated to abuse a child sexually…The person may deny negative consequences of the abuse, accept child pornography as a legitimate medium, attribute the behavior to poor self control…(he) must overcome external obstacles to the sexual behavior. Major obstacles include discovery and arrest…Finally, a perpetrator must overcome a child’s resistance to sexual contact.
Childhood sexual offenders are not just liars, they are also patient. For them, it is not so much about sex as it is about power and control. It is the single greatest crime and sin in the whole entire world, because it attacks the most precious thing in the whole entire world: the body, mind and soul of innocence itself.
Our hero quickly leaned over Fox…and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
It was like this for the first few nights of Fox’s 2-week visit from Colombia. Good night meant a kiss. But soon thereafter that wasn’t enough for Fox. By the fourth night, our hero felt Fox’s hand gently slipping over in the near perfect blackness and silence of the room; the fingers snaking, then tugging down his little Star Wars pajama pants. It was all so 'confusing and scary' for our hero. Yet, on the opposite side of the same coin, the experience was enthralling, and even possessed an element of peace. It actually felt good to our hero to be worthy of someone’s undivided attention, to have a warm body leaning over his, pouring its attention and energy on him, comforting him, accepting him. For our hero, at least while it was all happening, the wings of the devil were soft, reassuring, and delivering…and how high indeed, how far away from hell they let him fly!
Does not a soul confronted with abandonment, rejection and abuse seek desperately the comfort of company? A beggar child does not have the luxury of choice, and Fox knew it and used it to his advantage to get our hero emotionally dependent. So, as the days passed, and as the end of the vacation drew closer, the more commonplace and intense the touching and kissing became. Our hero was so tired of feeling terrified and hopeless over the routine of his life before Fox arrived that he did not even want to think about Fox’s last day. All that mattered to him was the temporal simplicity of it all – the touch of the moment, the fleeting emotions being shared at that particular moment in time, the feelings of immediate happiness.
And in the end, how much does a child only 8 years of age know about right, wrong, or about how some parts of his body are not meant for sharing? In the end, does such a child ever truly grow up, unbound, free from childlike thinking, where all that happens around him happens because he made it happen? It is not difficult to conceive that with projections like these this poor child will grow up to be a child abuser himself.
And how could mom even suspect such a thing could be happening under her roof? How could this not be beyond her wildest imagination and her worst nightmare? Yet, it was happening all the same, and if one listened closely enough one could hear hell itself laughing. And hell may have been rejoicing in its triumph………
……..but a mother’s instinct can be more powerful still.
Mom started to notice our hero had not been making much eye contact with neither her nor his sisters for the past few days. He had become isolated from them, and was speaking only when spoken to. And when he did, it was with a very low tone and with a fixed glare towards the floor. He was not finishing his meals at the table, making up excuses that he was not hungry or did not like it, even when his favorite dinner, spaghetti with meatballs, was being served. He had stopped brushing his teeth or combing his hair. Our hero started to walk and talk with no apparent facial expression and Fox, who was only too quick to notice, made sure to address it with him each and every night. He reminded our hero of the trouble they would both get into if mom found out. Meals had to be finished as a matter of discipline, and he needed to look and act happy. Otherwise it was all going to end “very very badly.”
On this one particular Sunday night, the whole entire family had gathered in the living room to watch “The Sound of Music”. Suddenly, mom asked everyone to go to the other room so she could talk in private with her son. Fox made sure to give a final glare back to our hero as he exited.
“Son?”
“What?” Our little hero impatiently snapped.
“Can you tell me what you and Fox do in the room at night?”
“Nothing. Sleep.” Was the mechanical reply.
“Son, please look at me.”
But our hero could not. He just sat there, feeling “dirty” - his hands stretched over his lap, his legs laid out before him, a cold fever of adrenaline and cortisol quickly surging up his narrow body.
“Son………….is he……….touching y...?”
“....no we just play!” Our hero’s response was much too loud and immediate.
And so it was that first thing the following morning, nearly ten days into his stay, Fox was put on a plane back to Colombia. And that was the end of that. Mom made no further inquiry and no further discussions were had about it, ever.
Period.
Karen McClintock writes:
The shame-bound family has many ways to keep the feelings of unworthiness in place. It’s not that family members consciously want to feel ashamed, but the feelings of shame keep the secrets secret. The shame keeps one bound to the family out of loyalty, by not talking about what goes on or by playing a role like the joker or the fix-it person. In a family with many generations of unspoken incest, the shame factor keeps each generation tied to the system.
As for our little hero, the whole entire experience was like a flashbulb going off right in his face; it left him even blinder and more disoriented than ever. No psychotherapy, no social worker, no psychologist, no family member to confirm whether abuse had indeed taken place. No measures to diagnose anxiety or depression, or more importantly, sexual issues. Our little hero was suffering from bad dreams, feelings of vulnerability, helplessness and anger. He had socially withdrawn from everyone in his life, and who could blame him.
He also did not understand that the abuse was not his fault, and that mom and dad were not completely innocent, but not completely to blame either, which in a way made them victims too. There was no treatment to hand down for improving discipline, or new skills to learn that could create some positive memories to help undo the negative ones. No father-figure to model, to shape himself after, even though mom many times had said to him, “I may be your mom, but I am also your dad now.”
But it is never the same, no matter how hard a mother tries. Despite any mother’s very best efforts and intentions, a father can never be replaced.
And critical, life-changing questions lingered: How to improve our hero’s self-esteem? How to increase his social activity? How to overcome trauma like this? Where is the safest environment for him? How do we make room for his emotional expression?
“Silence!”
And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all, especially to those who are of the household of faith.
Galatians 6:7