Trigger warning: domestic violence

Transcription

1 Trigger warning: domestic violence This is a long post, but it includes thoughts I ve held in for years. Everything in this post I ve written and thought deeply about. I absolutely believe it is all necessary for the conversation I hope to spark. Thank you. By now, some of you may have seen a story published in Willamette Week about my father, who is running for city council. I am not sure how many have seen it, how many will read it or how many care about the issue. But I feel it is important to at least give a personal comment on the topic. Today, I am at college in New York City, double majoring in two fields that have me excited for my future. I am surrounded by people I greatly respect, admire, trust and love. Every day I continue to prove that there is absolutely a way out of a life that may seem grim when struggling with violence at home. Today, I am out of that life, and I finally feel safe enough and strong enough to begin to share my story. I decided to open up in this way with the hope that someone out there will feel a little less isolated, as I did for so long. For years, I remained silent for a few reasons: I felt like no one would believe me, I didn t know if the abuse was actually abuse or if I was just being dramatic (as my father would tell me) and finally, I didn t know how to talk or who to go to. It is common in abusive relationships for the one suffering the violence to be made out as the wrongdoer, which oftentimes creates doubt and maintains silence. Once when I was still in grade school the police were called to my father s house. When the officers left his property he told me that a cop had said to him that if his daughter acted the way I did, he d pull her by the hair down the hallway. I believed my father s story, and for years this anecdote lingered in the back of my head justifying my doubt, making me believe that maybe my situation wasn t so bad. But now I see more clearly. In my nearly three years out of the situation, I ve realized that abuse is never justified in the home; and I want to use my story to shed light on a struggle that affects many of us domestic violence. I want to make it clear that there is no shame in being a victim (for lack of a better word) of domestic violence. Growing up, I always wished there was someone I could talk to that had gone through the same issues that I experienced, but I was never able to find someone. To anyone out there that can relate: I'm here, and I'm open to you.

2 Please know it is still difficult to share my story. But again, I believe that change can only come when we all agree to have open dialogue about the struggles in our life that plague and shape us. Until I was 16 years old, I saw my father regularly as a result of court ordered visitation. These visitations were not supervised, despite my father s abuse of my mother and me. On our visitations, I found myself striving to see the best in my father, but it became increasingly difficult to hide the verbal and physical abuse that I d endured for years which included being bitten, hit, verbally abused, and cornered on numerous occasions. But in September 2013, it all changed. On a Saturday morning he snapped and grabbed me by the throat among other things. During this altercation, I looked into his eyes and realized a soul was not looking back at me. At this point it finally crystallized in my mind I'd truly done nothing to deserve this treatment. He was the problem, the abuser, the one who should bear the guilt; not me. That day the police escorted me to my mother s house. In leaving I felt strong in my skin for the first time. Finally my voice meant something. I said I would never return to his house and that s exactly what happened. At no point do you deserve to have your safety or your well being infringed upon. At no point is it normal for your parent to hurt you, to corner you, or to belittle you. Even if you make a mistake, say or do the wrong thing, that does not give anyone the right to hurt you. Abuse does not just come in the physical form, and it s not always constant. My father and I would have moments where we d laugh, talk and listen to music together. None of this, however, excuses the physical abuse, or the tactics he d use to manipulate me emotionally and mentally. So although 2013 was the last time I went to my father's house, the abuse did not stop there by any means. Today, I still struggle with memories and other baggage that I have from that time in my life, and I am still processing everything that has happened. I just want to let everyone know if you too have survived domestic violence, or know someone who's been afflicted by it recovery from the abuser is a process. It s one that you need support to embark on. It s one that is not easy nor fast, and one that takes a lot of work and conversation, and ultimately, faith that you absolutely deserve bigger and better things than your abuser.

3 For me, once I had people in my life that could talk with me and process my experience with me, I started to understand my situation and work through the trauma. Now that I am in a place to share my story, I want to address a few things: To other children who have suffered abuse: You will not understand everything right away. The answerless questions of why this had to happen to you may get to you sometimes. But know that when you recognize the problem, when you talk about it you are defining yourself as someone who is working to find the solution, not continue the problem. We have to hold onto that. To teachers, parents, friends, anyone: If you see signs that abuse is affecting those close to you students, children, anyone you care at all about it is your responsibility to do something and say something. I'd drop hints to those close to me that my father hit me and had frightening anger issues, but I felt uncomfortable pressing the issue so the conversation would just drop. In my formative years, I displayed anger and distraction in school as a result of my stresses at home. Instead of intervening, oftentimes educators reprimanded me for "bad behavior" in my years in Portland Public Schools. If you take anything at all from my experience, make it this: there is always a story. There's a reason I came to school angry, or just didn t come at all. There's a reason I'd shut off when teachers raised their voices. There's a reason I appear to be guarded. I can only wonder what could have been avoided had someone reached out to me, or even to my father when he was still a child. To those that want to help but are not sure how: Understand that many of us want to reach out for help, but either fear our abusers finding out or simply do not know of the proper resources available. For much of my life, I did not feel strong and I did not have the right language to express what I was experiencing. Just having someone to talk to could have been revolutionary for me. To help, you can start out by asking something as simple as: Are you OK?" "How have things been for you at home recently?" "Do you want to talk?"

4 "I've noticed X has been different lately. Anything going on?" "I'm here for you when you need it." These may seem like simple questions, but for me, that would've meant the difference between suffering in silence and finding an ally to trust. You do not have to be an expert to make a difference in someone's day. Sometimes all it takes is starting the conversation. Despite all that my father has done and the pain that he has caused me, I do not I wish him harm. I have accepted that he cannot be a safe or healthy person in my life. So instead of dwelling on that which I cannot change, I hope that I can help people take his story, and mine, and think twice. I do not condone or wish to justify his behavior. At the end of the day, many of us, like him, still have agency. But, still, I cannot help but wonder what more we can be doing to avoid creating men like my father. And I cannot ignore the daily signs of abuse that I see, both in person and on social media, that go unchecked. Just recently, I passed through an ex classmate s social media post saying that women don t stay in relationships when you actually respect them, as if to condone degrading a female partner in order to keep (trap) her in the relationship. Both at my old high school and current college, I ve heard boys and men refer to girls/women as bitches, whores, sluts and so on without even giving second thought to degrading someone in that way. Recently, I overheard older men at my barbershop jokingly talk about how every husband must fantasize about hurting an ex wife while they were discussing a friend of theirs who was just convicted of murdering his ex and her unborn child. No one confronted the Facebook post. The boys go unchecked. Other men laughed along in the barbershop. I see how our culture raises males to believe that aggression, emotional detachment and control are the makings of a man. Until we unpack our expectations of relationships and masculinity, women like me, my mother, and so many others will continue to suffer within our own homes. I feel like many people keep scrolling or look the other way when they cross this sort of behavior. Know that in remaining complicent, you are only validating men like my father who will continue to terrorize innocent women. So, looking to the generations that can still be deterred from becoming my father: when you punish a boy for crying or for showing too much emotion think twice about the consequences. When you repeat the sentiment boys will be boys when they exhibit violent

5 behavior; hitting a friend, breaking a toy that doesn t work, posting misogynistic content on social media (@Grant High School)...whatever it is think twice about the behavior you are condoning. When you raise boys to believe girls are inherently weaker and helpless unpack the paradigm you re creating. There s a multitude of short falls and injustices that create abusive individuals, support domestic violence and allow women and children to fall through the cracks. I ve touched on a few here. But, just like every other oppressive system we wish to outwork domestic violence is something that needs to be called out and corrected through daily interactions. Call out the boys that walk through Grant s (and every other high school s) hallways jokingly grabbing at young women who are clearly not into their games. Empower the young women whose voices are drowned out. Seek to intervene and elevate students rather than discipline and demean. Moving onto a few last words: I want to publicly recognize that if not for my mother's strength, her love and her bravery, I would not be where I am today. I owe it all to the woman that risked everything and fought alone to give me a better, safer life. Like many women in such a predicament, she did not have many resources at her disposal. Yet, here we are today. Still standing, and thriving. It took me years to realize, but while my father s blood may be in me; his fingerprints are not on this body. I am my mother s daughter. I want to thank everyone else who has stayed in my life. If not for you, I do not know where I would be. I cannot repay or thank you enough for the faith you've kept in me and the protection you've allowed me. I am incredibly lucky to have people that challenge me to overcome these struggles, and stick with me through the roughest parts of my life. I am still learning, but that does not excuse me from doing my part. I am using my time in university to understand trauma and domestic violence. I will continue to raise awareness over this swept away, unnerving, unspoken battle. And today, I know now more than ever that liberation is achieved when you dare to own your story the good and the bad. And, undoubtedly now, I know that my voice is a power that no one can take from me, and the same goes for you. Lastly, I'd like to make it clear that oftentimes domestic violence is a generational cycle. It did not start with my father. Rather, it started with his father, and his father before him. But even with that, know that as daughters (children), while we can understand what made our fathers, that does not ever, ever give them the right to hurt us.

6 Thank you for reading.