Innocence Lost

M. L. Hayden

 

 

At age three, the girl had already been in five foster homes.  Finally adopted into a family, she began a lifetime of trying to please.  No matter what happened, she would not risk being sent to yet another home.  At seven, the 14-year-old boy next door introduced her to sexual molestation.  Later, an elder relative would corner her in the hallways for long inappropriate kisses.  Another close family member forced her to perform oral sex on him. 

 

She grew up alone and afraid, the middle child in the family.  She was teased at school, dubbed "Grunt" by school bullies as a play on her last name, and beaten by a certain coed whenever caught alone in the hallways.

 

Through it all, she survived.  She never lashed out at the others, but lashed inward, towards herself.  She grew up thinking, albeit subconsciously, that she was the world's punching bag and she deserved nothing more.

 

Yet, during those growing up years, there were kindnesses shown her.  The creative writing teacher who told her that a grunt was a beautiful fish would always hold a place in her heart long after that teacher's name was forgotten.  Other teachers who told the student how bright she was, encouraged her and inspired her.

 

As an adult, the therapist who encouraged her and helped her see that she had done nothing to deserve the abuse she suffered as a child, enabled her to quit wondering why she had given in to the predators without a fight.  Going back to that seven or ten or twelve year old insecure child, she realized that she had no choice; she would not rock the boat, no matter how awful the circumstances.  It could be that the sea was much worse than the boat.

 

Into adulthood, she continued to be a doormat, slinking away from jobs instead of fighting for her rights.  After all, did she really have the right to fight?  What her mother called a "superiority complex" was actually a way to distance herself from the hurt others could potentially cause her. 

Although others might call her dysfunctional, she was actually functioning quite well on survivor mode.

 

Sound familiar?  I see many children today who are functioning on survivor mode.  They show up for school having spent the weekend just trying to get through another day.  They deal with parental alcoholism, abuse, divorce and inattention.  Their own parents are just trying to survive themselves.  They are so involved with their own problems, they have no time to really see their children.  If that is how the parents get through the day, what other role model does the child have?

 

They get to school and their teachers are also on survivor mode.  Teachers have their own personal problems in addition to the large class sizes and threat of salary cuts if they are unable to garner passing grades from their students on standardized tests.  Do they even have time to notice the child being bullied by peers?  Do they have time to encourage, inspire and instill a little self-esteem in a child who gets none from home?

 

So what to do?  Perhaps we need to begin to look around; look outside our own lives and ourselves.  What is happening within our neighborhoods and among our friends' children?  Are you a safe place for them to come with their problems and concerns?  Do you lend a listening ear for a child who wants to tell you something as mundane as what she had for breakfast or which spelling words he missed on today's test?  When children see that someone cares even about the most ordinary details of their lives, they find a safe haven for the big details, the ones they may feel they can tell nobody else. 

I make it a habit to take my friends' children to dinner and shopping for their birthdays.  This usually occurs days after their birthday parties, after they receive all their presents from friends and family.  It began as an easier way to deal with picking out presents.  What has evolved is a precious time that I can spend one-on-one with them.  I can get to know them a little bit better and they can feel free to tell me how their lives are going. 

 

In fact, the first question as we settle down for dinner is usually, "How is your life?"  I listen with genuine interest.  They know I would never betray a confidence, but if I can help them with a problem, whether it is with a peer or parents, I do.  I give them my input of their parents' actions from a parent's point of view.  Oftentimes, nothing of significant import is discussed, but they know one adult who will listen without judging them.

 

In addition, I try to encourage them.  I tell them that they can do or be anything they wish in life, as long as they apply themselves in school.  I tell them what potential I see in them.  Although parents may say the exact same thing to them, having another person's input sometimes helps them to realize that it is true.

 

Abuse and neglect have been around for as long as time itself. Perhaps it is more widespread today than ever, but it has always been there.

 

An anti-drug commercial asks a young child what her mommy told her about different dangers.  You know the one about talking to strangers and playing with matches.  The narrator says, "You're children are listening; are you talking?" 

 

I say, "Your children are talking; are you listening?" 

 

Do we really take the time to listen to what our children and our friends' children are saying?  If we did, perhaps anger would be abated before it reaches the rage stage.  Perhaps we would not be sending our children off to school with one more worry:  surviving school safely.

 

Back to the girl from the beginning of this article.  She was a child of the 50s, a teen of the 60s, a wife of the 70s, a mother of the 80s, a single parent of the 90s and now a woman of the new millennium.   She has learned to quit trying to please everyone all the time.  She has learned that it cannot be done. What different choices she could have made in her life had she learned that lesson years ago!  More importantly, though, are the choices she can make now, finally having learned. 

 

No longer does the past dictate who she is today.  She embraces that past as part of what makes her who she is today, but will no longer live as a victim.  Moreover, she puts to work the lessons she learned to help others just a little bit. This is what we need to teach our children.  No matter what your life has been, it will be what you make of it.  You can make a difference in a child's life.  Just look around.  Find that one child you can help today and do it.  It will be well worth the time.