Grieving all the people who "looked away and didn't help"

[pamcoco]

I have 2 thoughts or ideas, I guess.

First that the rescue “fantasy” is hardwired. It’s a survival instinct that is essential to making it through extreme abuse, both physically and emotionally. I mean the fantasy is essential.

I remember giving up hope as a child. It’s dangerous and in some ways subjected me to a life of victim hood. It’s not unrealistic for a child to yearn for protection, love, care, safety, even from the very people harming them. They must yearn. There’s no choice. Naturally those unmet instincts carry on usually unexamined.

Secondly, I was a social worker for child protection in south central Los Angeles during the crack epidemic. I began the job weeks after the Rodney King riots. There’s no way to convey the helplessness and devastation I experienced in that community and in the souls of everyone I dealt with at that time.

Seeing me, white, slight, 25 yrs old with red hair, my clients would urge me to vacate the vicinity long before sundown. I was always surprised by the fear in their eyes that far surpassed my knowledge.

Turns out I simply could not manage my caseload. I had 67 children and I was supposed to visit all of them, as well as every caretaker and parent every month. Some workers had manageable situations. I had a 7 year old chase me and his grandmother around the house with a knife, death threats on my voicemail, kids that were so malnourished they looked 18 months old at 3.

I had to go to the projects alone, before cell phones, while 10 men would follow right behind me from the parking lot to the front door of the family and back. Small talk was my friend.

There were as many abusers in foster parents as relatives, meanwhile the government was paying the crack suppliers to keep product readily available.

The trickle down effect goes from the government, the institutions, the elders, the parents, the children, to the animals. In my years of driving the streets I couldn’t number the amount of times I tried to get a starving beaten animal to come to me. Only one ever did.

I must admit I didn’t last long. When I needed tequila to sleep every single night, I was forced to surrender and move to a private agency.

Then as now, I could walk into a room and viscerally know the dynamics of power and harm. The energy is palpable and undeniable. We all have this instinct.

I don’t think the reality that need is greater than generosity will ever change. So we either choose to do what we can, setting into motion unpredictable consequences or we stuff it down. Both have their strengths and drawbacks. But there is no neutral action.

It’s enough to keep you up at night needing a stiff shot.

After I left, one of the 3.5 year old girls on my caseload was murdered. I was asked to testify.

After I left, exiting a popular shopping mall a woman called out to me. A young mother of maybe 20 wanted to thank me. She said she had lost her kids, but was grateful that I always treated her with respect.

I could never have predicted these outcomes. Thank goodness that was never my job.

 

[ms spock]

I go in and out with dealing with what "everyone else" did or didn't do. It's a hard one.

I told everyone what my father did to me so folks could protect their children.

I was attacked by some great aunties who said that they lived through it. Why did I need to talk about it? To stop it from happening to the next generation.

I told everyone that I could. I spoke up. I alerted folks. I was viciously attacked.

I have as an adult reported children. Not knowing if it will make a positive impact.

We are legally required to report. But I did it long before that.

I could have done with some help as a kid.

I get what you are saying. It is hard to lock your head around.

My father said he would kill us all Because my father had a high paying job and he scared the welfare people. They did not remove my sisters and brothers who desperately needed removal. They blame me and hate my guts.

I told the school, every possible adult, I saved all our lives by speaking out. The price was high.

I won't stand by as an adult either.

I have cut myself off from having people in my life. I am too tired from it all.

 

[Lindalou]

Ugh, so much of my trauma therapy has been about the perps/ abusers and what they did.
Which is natural enough.

Right now, I'm dealing with what "everyone else" did or didn't do.

I think as children going through massive trauma, many/ most of us have some sort of "rescue fantasy". That someone, anyone will see what we're going through and will help us.

I'm starting to realise that all the teachers that didn't help, all the neighbours that didn't help, all the relatives that didn't help, all the random strangers that didn't help, all the fantasy people I imagined that didn't help... The fact that no one helped... That did a lot of damage too... in a deep and different way to the original trauma.

Without realising it, I think I slowly withdrew my trust in people. Accepted that people ignoring trauma is just the way the world works. Tried to harden myself to it. Accepted that I had to look after myself, because no one else was going to.

It's an issue I'm only now starting to really bump into and feel the extent of it. How much (childish) resentment I feel about it, how there is this quietly seething sense of "Screw you".

Since then, I've worked with young children and we all know the stats. There's a certain percentage in each school class or pre-school class that are being abused or neglected or subject to trauma.

As an adult know, I know you can't always "see" it. Or you see glimpses of it and worry about the child, but you're not sure about what these glimpses really tell you. Is this normal hardship? Is this something that needs to be reported? And when you get to the threshold that you think it needs reporting - then two things kick in: 1) the legal aspects - how high does your level of "proof" need to be before you can legally/ responsibly report this and 2) will your reporting it help or harm the child? Because if you report things that are too unsubstantial for the authorities to take decisive action, then the child may be left in that home and actually be subjected to more abuse because the abuser now feels threatend, but no real protections for the child have been put in place.

So as an adult, even if you care, even if you don't look away, it's so difficult to know what to do. "The authorities" don't do what they're supposed to... the reality is never what it is in theory on paper... They're understaffed, underfunded, overworked... There's too few safe places to put the children in, so often they remain in their family. There's no "easy solution" for an adult witnessing a child in distress, when they have little proof and little legal standing.

So, presumably, there were people that "knew" when I was a kid. Or at least knew some of it, or figured out what was likely going on. And they probably did what I do now, as an adult. Try to observe closely, try to weigh the legal options, try to work out what would actually most help the child, and just try to be kind to them, show them care, give them attention, treat them well so that they know they are valued.

And I presume that's what adults in my life tried to do for me too. And I'm grateful for what they did do. But I think in my subconscious, as a child, there was still this deep sense of "Why isn't anyone helping me???" And maybe, in some ways, having people who were kind, patient and smart... maybe made it worse? Because EVEN THEY weren't helping?

I don't think it made any sense to me as a child why no one would help.
And I think, deep down, I came to some pretty dark conclusions about "what people are like" if none of them help children going through trauma.

I hear that. But something I remember, too, is all the “coaching” my mother gave me about rediculous and nosy neighbors. She always had the last word and, knowing her stiletto tongue, was vicious about telling them to mind their own business, coaching me in “protecting” her from all these horrible people.
This realization helped me turn away from her and back towards others. To make my own feeble interpretations. I wasn’t always right, but I was more right than she was.
I hope that helps…hug