Calmly Addressing a Subject
Jul. 30th, 2004 02:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omimouseThis is going to start off somewhat rambling, but I promise, there is a point in here somewhere.
I remember visits to Thelma's (my Dad's mom, I haven't called her grandma since I was 16) house when I was a kid. I would discover when I was 16 that she had never forgiven me for not being a boy, but when I was little, her behaviour towards me was confusing. She would be happy and loving, and then suddenly turn into a harridan for no reason that I could discern. Mom and Dad left me in her care for a day when I was a few weeks old. I don't remember why anymore. I just remember Mom describing coming home to find Thelma, passed out drunk on the couch, with five or so empty vodka bottles on the floor, with me on her chest.
Mom and Dad left my sister and me with Thelma again when I was three. This time it was for a few days. When they came back, Barbara and I were in complete, screaming hysterics. Mom and Dad never did find out what happend. I still remember having nightmares for literally years afterwards, and begging to not go to Thelma's ever again, please don't send me back, please don't make me go back.
We still visited, but my sister and I were never again left alone with her.
Then dad's sister, Paige, had a son. She named him Ed, after her father, who had died when my Dad was eight. Thelma sort of took over raising the kid, to the point that Ed lived with Thelma, and Paige visited occasionally. I've never figured out exactly why Paige did that, when she was asking my Mom for advice on how to keep Thelma from taking Ed away from her.
Ed could do no wrong in Thelma's eyes. He was named after her late husband, and she began to treat him as such. He slept in her bed for as long as I had contact with that branch of the family (until he was eleven), he was treated as though he was an adult, and he was never, ever, punished for anything.
Our visits were about three to four years apart. We visited for the last time when I was a few months away from 16 and Barbara was 14. Ed was ten at that point in time. Dad's brother had a son of his own, Stevie. Stevie was four. When we pulled into the driveway, we were greeted by the sight of Ed beating the shit out of Stevie. That set the tone for our visit.
I suppose I should be grateful that Ed liked Barbara more than he liked me. Barbara was endlessly telling him to keep his hands off of her, and wound up kicking him something fierce (I note here that she's been in full ballet training since she was six) when he tried to get in bed with her at night. Barbara wound up crawling into my bed, because Ed didn't take almost having his knee broken as a 'no'. I will probably never know why he was more afraid of me than he was of my sister.
Ed could not take 'no' for an answer, or rather, he didn't believe that 'no' applied to him. There was nothing that he was not allowed to do, literally nothing. Rules weren't meant for him, and people were there for his whims. Barbara and I had just gotten back from a vacation in the Netherlands, and we were tired of his shit by the end of the first day. What made us truly mad, though, was the way that Thelma refused to hear anything bad about him at all. Eddie was always 'sensitive', or 'misunderstood', or, on the rare occasions when she couldn't ignore what was staring her in the face, 'really very sorry, and he'll never do it again'.
Barbara and I got tired of the adults not doing anything. They refused to control him, so we took it upon ourselves to do it for them. This culimniated in us getting two of the neighbour kids, each of us grabbing an arm or a leg, and hauling him out of the house and dropping him on the sidewalk beacuse he was literally trying to kill Stevie and we couldn't get him to stop any other way.
He went screaming to Thelma. I went upstairs to make sure that we hadn't hurt him a few minutes later, and I got as far as the front door before Thelma exploded outwards. She grabbed the front of my shirt, shook me hard, and screamed at that if I ever touched her granson again . . . I never did hear what she was going to do to me. All I remember is that she took Ed out shopping to soothe him, and that I knew that the adults would never back me up or believe me. Barbara and I both knew, and we had to defend ourselves, when we shouldn't have had to.
I will never knowingly put any child that I have any authority over into that kind of a situation. Yes, I know that people can change. Yes, I believe that Warin's grampa is a pretty nice guy who genuinely cares about his family. Honestly, I do. I feel I should mention here that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catchild and I will vent strong anger, frustration, and/or upset before we try to tackle the issue itself, preferably where the person that is the cause of the issue cannot see and/or hear it.
If you have a history of chronically abusing kids in any way, shape, or fashion, I will not allow you near my children. I've been trying to avoid 'always' and 'never' statements lately, but I cannot conceive of a situation where I would knowingly allow a chronic abuser of any stripe anywhere near my kids. At the very, very least, I see no reason to wave temptation under their nose.
This is my stance, and the official stance of Sanctuary as well.
I remember visits to Thelma's (my Dad's mom, I haven't called her grandma since I was 16) house when I was a kid. I would discover when I was 16 that she had never forgiven me for not being a boy, but when I was little, her behaviour towards me was confusing. She would be happy and loving, and then suddenly turn into a harridan for no reason that I could discern. Mom and Dad left me in her care for a day when I was a few weeks old. I don't remember why anymore. I just remember Mom describing coming home to find Thelma, passed out drunk on the couch, with five or so empty vodka bottles on the floor, with me on her chest.
Mom and Dad left my sister and me with Thelma again when I was three. This time it was for a few days. When they came back, Barbara and I were in complete, screaming hysterics. Mom and Dad never did find out what happend. I still remember having nightmares for literally years afterwards, and begging to not go to Thelma's ever again, please don't send me back, please don't make me go back.
We still visited, but my sister and I were never again left alone with her.
Then dad's sister, Paige, had a son. She named him Ed, after her father, who had died when my Dad was eight. Thelma sort of took over raising the kid, to the point that Ed lived with Thelma, and Paige visited occasionally. I've never figured out exactly why Paige did that, when she was asking my Mom for advice on how to keep Thelma from taking Ed away from her.
Ed could do no wrong in Thelma's eyes. He was named after her late husband, and she began to treat him as such. He slept in her bed for as long as I had contact with that branch of the family (until he was eleven), he was treated as though he was an adult, and he was never, ever, punished for anything.
Our visits were about three to four years apart. We visited for the last time when I was a few months away from 16 and Barbara was 14. Ed was ten at that point in time. Dad's brother had a son of his own, Stevie. Stevie was four. When we pulled into the driveway, we were greeted by the sight of Ed beating the shit out of Stevie. That set the tone for our visit.
I suppose I should be grateful that Ed liked Barbara more than he liked me. Barbara was endlessly telling him to keep his hands off of her, and wound up kicking him something fierce (I note here that she's been in full ballet training since she was six) when he tried to get in bed with her at night. Barbara wound up crawling into my bed, because Ed didn't take almost having his knee broken as a 'no'. I will probably never know why he was more afraid of me than he was of my sister.
Ed could not take 'no' for an answer, or rather, he didn't believe that 'no' applied to him. There was nothing that he was not allowed to do, literally nothing. Rules weren't meant for him, and people were there for his whims. Barbara and I had just gotten back from a vacation in the Netherlands, and we were tired of his shit by the end of the first day. What made us truly mad, though, was the way that Thelma refused to hear anything bad about him at all. Eddie was always 'sensitive', or 'misunderstood', or, on the rare occasions when she couldn't ignore what was staring her in the face, 'really very sorry, and he'll never do it again'.
Barbara and I got tired of the adults not doing anything. They refused to control him, so we took it upon ourselves to do it for them. This culimniated in us getting two of the neighbour kids, each of us grabbing an arm or a leg, and hauling him out of the house and dropping him on the sidewalk beacuse he was literally trying to kill Stevie and we couldn't get him to stop any other way.
He went screaming to Thelma. I went upstairs to make sure that we hadn't hurt him a few minutes later, and I got as far as the front door before Thelma exploded outwards. She grabbed the front of my shirt, shook me hard, and screamed at that if I ever touched her granson again . . . I never did hear what she was going to do to me. All I remember is that she took Ed out shopping to soothe him, and that I knew that the adults would never back me up or believe me. Barbara and I both knew, and we had to defend ourselves, when we shouldn't have had to.
I will never knowingly put any child that I have any authority over into that kind of a situation. Yes, I know that people can change. Yes, I believe that Warin's grampa is a pretty nice guy who genuinely cares about his family. Honestly, I do. I feel I should mention here that
catchild and I will vent strong anger, frustration, and/or upset before we try to tackle the issue itself, preferably where the person that is the cause of the issue cannot see and/or hear it.If you have a history of chronically abusing kids in any way, shape, or fashion, I will not allow you near my children. I've been trying to avoid 'always' and 'never' statements lately, but I cannot conceive of a situation where I would knowingly allow a chronic abuser of any stripe anywhere near my kids. At the very, very least, I see no reason to wave temptation under their nose.
This is my stance, and the official stance of Sanctuary as well.
