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With all the sexual assault cases coming out everywhere, I had the opportunity to talk to my mother this week about my very first assault (details to follow).
Honestly, it happened so long ago and was taken care of so thoroughly, that I was starting to doubt it had ever happened. But then my mother casually mentioned it, so I know it did. When I was about 5 or so, my godparents' son-in-law tongue-kissed me. It was at my godfather's retirement party and I was the only kid there and bored out of my mind. So I went around trying to find an adult to toss the ball around with me in the yard.
Dale said he would. So we left the front, more formal, room where the party was happening, and walked through the back family room on the way to the back door. He stopped me before we reached the door and made me sit on the couch. I was annoyed, because I wanted to go outside and play. He said some things that I don't really remember, weird pedo type things about how much he liked me and wanted me to respond in kind. He had me sit on his knee, he rubbed my stomach and chest in a circular motion, and he asked for a kiss.
Groomed by the Baby Boomers to always give "family" a kiss and be affectionate, I complied, but with a quick peck on the cheek as I was getting really annoyed at not making it outside. He said "no, I mean a real kiss" and put his wet, mustachioed mouth over mine and pushed his tongue inside my mouth (to this day, I do not like kissing men with facial hair).
It didn't last very long, but I thought it was gross and I knew it was wrong somehow without really knowing why it was wrong just that it was gross, but I also didn't want to cause a scene (another thing my proper, middle-class, Boomer family trained in me), so I merely hopped off his knee as soon as he let me and insisted on going outside to play.
I no longer wanted to play with him, but, not knowing what else to do that wouldn't interrupt the party, I just pretended that nothing out of the ordinary had happened and we played ball for a little while. I have no further memories of that party until the car ride home that night.
It was dark by the time we left. Mom asked me if I had a good time from the front seat of the car, and I immediately told her what happened. She and dad stayed calm and they asked why I waited so long to say anything. I said that I didn't want to interrupt the party. Mom asked me questions to make sure she had all the details, still remaining calm, and when I was done, told me that I had done the right thing in telling them and that they would take care of everything.
Sometime later, mom said that we would never be seeing Dale again and that he was being punished for being inappropriate with me.
I eventually learned the story of what happened, but I'm not sure how. I have the feeling that my parents never spoke directly of it to me after that day, but it was spoken with me present to the relevant family members who needed to know what happened, and it was spoken of with, in my opinion, the right degree of disgust, horror, and also "it's not really such a big deal that the child should feel bad about herself". I don't really know how better to explain it than that.
My parents went to my godparents' daughter (Dale's wife) and told her what happened. She was pregnant with their only child at the time. She confronted him, and somewhere in the confrontation (I have no idea if this was all one argument or over a period of time) she learned that he had molested other children besides me.
She decided that he would never set eyes on their child and threw him out, going through a divorce while still pregnant. I'm told he visited the hospital when the baby was born, but as far as I know, that's the last time anyone ever had contact with him. I have the feeling that she also pressed charges, but I don't feel confident in that feeling and have no details in my memory about that happening.
My family (those who know the story) seemed to have always responded with exactly the right mix of emotional reactions. I came away from that encounter with the following lessons:
1) My parents were a safe place to go when a grown-up didn't treat me right.
2) If you report bad grown-ups, the good ones around you will protect you.
3) What happened to me was awful, but
4) it was not so awful that I have to feel bad about myself in any capacity. It was a big deal that he should be harshly punished for it, but it also wasn't a big deal that I needed to worry about it or feel sullied or dirty or tarnished or broken or at fault or anything else that people typically feel after an assault.
5) I am worthy of love and respect no matter what.
6) There is something Very Wrong with men who like significantly younger women / girls, with men who have urges or attractions for young women / girls / children, and with the culture of men in general that excuse, dismiss, and/or promote these kinds of thoughts and behaviours including entitlement to other people's bodies and emotions, but there is nothing wrong with the women / girls / children who are the recipients of the attention.
While my parents certainly have their faults, and we definitely do not see eye to eye on a lot of things, and like most people, a lot of my issues stem from my parents and my childhood, my parents are *also* very good parents and responsible for most of the good things in my life as well.
This came about because, apparently, more than 20 women who are alumni of my private, all-girls' religious high school have come forward with accusations of sexual assault from teachers at that school and the President (who was the principal when I was a student) just resigned amid the allegations that she dismissed and covered up all the accusations over the years.
The accusations range from more than 30 years ago (before I was a student) to just over 10 years ago, meaning that some of those assaults probably took place while I was attending. Mom wanted to know if I had ever heard of any such incidents.
I had not. In my 4 years at that school, I had not once heard any rumors or stories or accusations. I can't even think of more than 2 male teachers in the entire school at the time I attended. I even had a friend who was being assaulted by her father, and because of my own lessons in this subject, I turned to the nearest authority figures, my parents and my guidance counselor, and they immediately put things in motion to help protect and rescue my friend. But that was the only thing I knew of while I was attending that school.
However, I still believe my alumni sisters.
And not just because of some blanket "always believe any and all accusations against men" generic philosophy. The President stepped down from her post because she thought all the accusations were a "distraction" from all the good work that the school did. She maintains that she did not ignore, dismiss, or cover up anything, that no assaults ever took place, but since there is now some witch hunt (she did not use that phrase) against her, her presence and the accusations associated with her, are a "distraction" from the school's overall reputation and good deeds.
She thinks the past needs to stay in the past, and that everyone needs to focus on the present and the future of the school and all the good it has done.
That alone confirms her guilt, in my mind. A truly honest, innocent authority figure who cares about the well-being of the girls in her care would not be afraid of opening up the past to scrutiny if there was nothing to hide. As the conservatives are so fond of shouting, if she did nothing wrong then a look into her past should exonerate her, shouldn't it? A look into an innocent past should only showcase the exemplary history of the school and all its good work. A stellar history only provides a robust foundation for an equally stellar present and future.
The only people *these days* trying to downplay "the past" seem to be people with a past they want to hide. One would think that one with nothing to hide would instead be proud of one's past.
I have no real point. I'm not really trying to impart some Pro Tip or advice, I'm not trying to tell a moral fable, and I'm also not really making some current events op-ed, although this post does have a little bit of all the above. I guess I'm just processing the feelings I have from that conversation with my mother. I'm kinda relieved to have my memories of that early assault confirmed, right about when I started to doubt my own fallible memories (yay aging and self-gaslighting?).
I'm very proud and grateful for my parents. I got to express my gratitude to my mom for how they dealt with that situation, and I don't think I had ever done that before. I'm pleased that we have a moment in our culture where accusations are finally seeing some daylight. We still have a long way to go before there is any real justice, but we are at the precipice right now where things could be making a turn that we, hopefully, can't go back on.
And I'm a little bit uneasy at hearing the news of such long-term sexual assault happening right under my nose at my high school. I have only skimmed one article about it, so I'm going to go look up some more to see if any of the accused teachers were publicly named, to see if I knew any of them. One, in particular, is actually an extended family friend, so I'm a little trepidatious to find out about him.
I think I'm about out of words on this subject right now.
**Update** Yep, one of the teachers accused was my Spanish teacher, Mr. Fernandez. He was also a distant friend-of-the-family. I had not met him until he became my teacher, but he was known to my parents. I have very strong ties to the world of soccer. My cousin is a world-famous college soccer coach and his wife is a professional soccer player and 2-time Olympic gold medalist. This Spanish teacher is also a former Olympian, playing soccer for Spain before I was born. He was friends with another Spanish soccer player who was friends with that college coach cousin of mine, and that's how our worlds intersected.
So my parents were actually excited to hear that he was going to be my Spanish teacher. I have no inappropriate associations with him, personally, nor had I been told of anything involving him while attending the school. The entire sum of my memory of him is sleeping through his class because it was the first period after lunch, and between the heat of the afternoon in the un-air-conditioned building and my sleep disorder that says daytime is sleep time, I never once made it through a class in the 2 years I took Spanish from him without nodding off.
My one clear memory of him was crossing the stage at my graduation ceremony, where he was one of the teachers to shake our hands as we crossed. He shook my hand and whispered some joke about making sure I stay awake in my college Spanish classes. That's it. That's my strongest memory of him.
However, I still believe my alumni sisters. It's just weird to think of all that history with him and never catching a whiff of the trouble. And I also wonder how my family reacted to the news, those of them in the soccer circles who knew him personally. It must be difficult to learn about a trusted family friend being accused of sexual misconduct with minors.
I hope they reacted appropriately. But since all of this is only being made public after his death, it's also a lot easier to react "appropriately", because nobody has to actually terminate a friendship over it.
This teacher was not the only teacher accused, just the only one whose name I have learned whom I knew. I'm still processing it. I will also continue to attempt to learn the identities of the other teachers being accused. The only other name I have found out was definitely not a teacher during my time there.
Honestly, it happened so long ago and was taken care of so thoroughly, that I was starting to doubt it had ever happened. But then my mother casually mentioned it, so I know it did. When I was about 5 or so, my godparents' son-in-law tongue-kissed me. It was at my godfather's retirement party and I was the only kid there and bored out of my mind. So I went around trying to find an adult to toss the ball around with me in the yard.
Dale said he would. So we left the front, more formal, room where the party was happening, and walked through the back family room on the way to the back door. He stopped me before we reached the door and made me sit on the couch. I was annoyed, because I wanted to go outside and play. He said some things that I don't really remember, weird pedo type things about how much he liked me and wanted me to respond in kind. He had me sit on his knee, he rubbed my stomach and chest in a circular motion, and he asked for a kiss.
Groomed by the Baby Boomers to always give "family" a kiss and be affectionate, I complied, but with a quick peck on the cheek as I was getting really annoyed at not making it outside. He said "no, I mean a real kiss" and put his wet, mustachioed mouth over mine and pushed his tongue inside my mouth (to this day, I do not like kissing men with facial hair).
It didn't last very long, but I thought it was gross and I knew it was wrong somehow without really knowing why it was wrong just that it was gross, but I also didn't want to cause a scene (another thing my proper, middle-class, Boomer family trained in me), so I merely hopped off his knee as soon as he let me and insisted on going outside to play.
I no longer wanted to play with him, but, not knowing what else to do that wouldn't interrupt the party, I just pretended that nothing out of the ordinary had happened and we played ball for a little while. I have no further memories of that party until the car ride home that night.
It was dark by the time we left. Mom asked me if I had a good time from the front seat of the car, and I immediately told her what happened. She and dad stayed calm and they asked why I waited so long to say anything. I said that I didn't want to interrupt the party. Mom asked me questions to make sure she had all the details, still remaining calm, and when I was done, told me that I had done the right thing in telling them and that they would take care of everything.
Sometime later, mom said that we would never be seeing Dale again and that he was being punished for being inappropriate with me.
I eventually learned the story of what happened, but I'm not sure how. I have the feeling that my parents never spoke directly of it to me after that day, but it was spoken with me present to the relevant family members who needed to know what happened, and it was spoken of with, in my opinion, the right degree of disgust, horror, and also "it's not really such a big deal that the child should feel bad about herself". I don't really know how better to explain it than that.
My parents went to my godparents' daughter (Dale's wife) and told her what happened. She was pregnant with their only child at the time. She confronted him, and somewhere in the confrontation (I have no idea if this was all one argument or over a period of time) she learned that he had molested other children besides me.
She decided that he would never set eyes on their child and threw him out, going through a divorce while still pregnant. I'm told he visited the hospital when the baby was born, but as far as I know, that's the last time anyone ever had contact with him. I have the feeling that she also pressed charges, but I don't feel confident in that feeling and have no details in my memory about that happening.
My family (those who know the story) seemed to have always responded with exactly the right mix of emotional reactions. I came away from that encounter with the following lessons:
1) My parents were a safe place to go when a grown-up didn't treat me right.
2) If you report bad grown-ups, the good ones around you will protect you.
3) What happened to me was awful, but
4) it was not so awful that I have to feel bad about myself in any capacity. It was a big deal that he should be harshly punished for it, but it also wasn't a big deal that I needed to worry about it or feel sullied or dirty or tarnished or broken or at fault or anything else that people typically feel after an assault.
5) I am worthy of love and respect no matter what.
6) There is something Very Wrong with men who like significantly younger women / girls, with men who have urges or attractions for young women / girls / children, and with the culture of men in general that excuse, dismiss, and/or promote these kinds of thoughts and behaviours including entitlement to other people's bodies and emotions, but there is nothing wrong with the women / girls / children who are the recipients of the attention.
While my parents certainly have their faults, and we definitely do not see eye to eye on a lot of things, and like most people, a lot of my issues stem from my parents and my childhood, my parents are *also* very good parents and responsible for most of the good things in my life as well.
This came about because, apparently, more than 20 women who are alumni of my private, all-girls' religious high school have come forward with accusations of sexual assault from teachers at that school and the President (who was the principal when I was a student) just resigned amid the allegations that she dismissed and covered up all the accusations over the years.
The accusations range from more than 30 years ago (before I was a student) to just over 10 years ago, meaning that some of those assaults probably took place while I was attending. Mom wanted to know if I had ever heard of any such incidents.
I had not. In my 4 years at that school, I had not once heard any rumors or stories or accusations. I can't even think of more than 2 male teachers in the entire school at the time I attended. I even had a friend who was being assaulted by her father, and because of my own lessons in this subject, I turned to the nearest authority figures, my parents and my guidance counselor, and they immediately put things in motion to help protect and rescue my friend. But that was the only thing I knew of while I was attending that school.
However, I still believe my alumni sisters.
And not just because of some blanket "always believe any and all accusations against men" generic philosophy. The President stepped down from her post because she thought all the accusations were a "distraction" from all the good work that the school did. She maintains that she did not ignore, dismiss, or cover up anything, that no assaults ever took place, but since there is now some witch hunt (she did not use that phrase) against her, her presence and the accusations associated with her, are a "distraction" from the school's overall reputation and good deeds.
She thinks the past needs to stay in the past, and that everyone needs to focus on the present and the future of the school and all the good it has done.
That alone confirms her guilt, in my mind. A truly honest, innocent authority figure who cares about the well-being of the girls in her care would not be afraid of opening up the past to scrutiny if there was nothing to hide. As the conservatives are so fond of shouting, if she did nothing wrong then a look into her past should exonerate her, shouldn't it? A look into an innocent past should only showcase the exemplary history of the school and all its good work. A stellar history only provides a robust foundation for an equally stellar present and future.
The only people *these days* trying to downplay "the past" seem to be people with a past they want to hide. One would think that one with nothing to hide would instead be proud of one's past.
I have no real point. I'm not really trying to impart some Pro Tip or advice, I'm not trying to tell a moral fable, and I'm also not really making some current events op-ed, although this post does have a little bit of all the above. I guess I'm just processing the feelings I have from that conversation with my mother. I'm kinda relieved to have my memories of that early assault confirmed, right about when I started to doubt my own fallible memories (yay aging and self-gaslighting?).
I'm very proud and grateful for my parents. I got to express my gratitude to my mom for how they dealt with that situation, and I don't think I had ever done that before. I'm pleased that we have a moment in our culture where accusations are finally seeing some daylight. We still have a long way to go before there is any real justice, but we are at the precipice right now where things could be making a turn that we, hopefully, can't go back on.
And I'm a little bit uneasy at hearing the news of such long-term sexual assault happening right under my nose at my high school. I have only skimmed one article about it, so I'm going to go look up some more to see if any of the accused teachers were publicly named, to see if I knew any of them. One, in particular, is actually an extended family friend, so I'm a little trepidatious to find out about him.
I think I'm about out of words on this subject right now.
**Update** Yep, one of the teachers accused was my Spanish teacher, Mr. Fernandez. He was also a distant friend-of-the-family. I had not met him until he became my teacher, but he was known to my parents. I have very strong ties to the world of soccer. My cousin is a world-famous college soccer coach and his wife is a professional soccer player and 2-time Olympic gold medalist. This Spanish teacher is also a former Olympian, playing soccer for Spain before I was born. He was friends with another Spanish soccer player who was friends with that college coach cousin of mine, and that's how our worlds intersected.
So my parents were actually excited to hear that he was going to be my Spanish teacher. I have no inappropriate associations with him, personally, nor had I been told of anything involving him while attending the school. The entire sum of my memory of him is sleeping through his class because it was the first period after lunch, and between the heat of the afternoon in the un-air-conditioned building and my sleep disorder that says daytime is sleep time, I never once made it through a class in the 2 years I took Spanish from him without nodding off.
My one clear memory of him was crossing the stage at my graduation ceremony, where he was one of the teachers to shake our hands as we crossed. He shook my hand and whispered some joke about making sure I stay awake in my college Spanish classes. That's it. That's my strongest memory of him.
However, I still believe my alumni sisters. It's just weird to think of all that history with him and never catching a whiff of the trouble. And I also wonder how my family reacted to the news, those of them in the soccer circles who knew him personally. It must be difficult to learn about a trusted family friend being accused of sexual misconduct with minors.
I hope they reacted appropriately. But since all of this is only being made public after his death, it's also a lot easier to react "appropriately", because nobody has to actually terminate a friendship over it.
This teacher was not the only teacher accused, just the only one whose name I have learned whom I knew. I'm still processing it. I will also continue to attempt to learn the identities of the other teachers being accused. The only other name I have found out was definitely not a teacher during my time there.
