—
Editor’s note: The names have been changed to preserve anonymity.
—
Somewhere in the world, there’s a woman named Sara who could be the face of the #metoo movement. I know because I was her abuser’s counselor.
30 years ago the NYC Board of Ed collaborated with Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center to build health clinics in schools in Harlem & Washington Heights. We provided counseling and reproductive health and sexuality education to inner-city teenagers.
One day, a referral came through that nobody else wanted. “Sonny” was a 13-year old boy referred because he was molesting Sara, his 6-year-old sister. As soon as it was discovered, Sara went to the hospital and Sonny began a tour through the NYC foster-care system. Nobody wanted to be within 100 miles of him. None of the teachers wanted him in their classes, and none of the other counselors wanted him. The referent told me, “He gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
Sonny had already been bounced out of a treatment center that specialized in hard-to-treat sex predators. Most current research shows that statistically, approximately 1 out of 5 sex offenders are classified as treatment-resistant, and Sonny was 1 out of 5. I was nervous about working with him. I imagined him as a monster. WTF was I going to do with him? What happened informed the way I look at all sex offenders today.
When Sonny first walked into my office I was struck by how un-monster-like he was. He was sensitive and easy to talk with. There was a sweet vulnerability about him, though you could tell something was off. He was like a 100-watt bulb flickering on its last leg. His eyes had a look that was a cross between terror, confusion and shell-shocked, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. I imagine his face got frozen like that during the long cold night of his life. His shoulders slouched, and though he smiled, there was no joy. Mostly he just felt like profound sadness. If you sat in the shadow of his darkness you might break down crying.
The referral sheet told one story: he couldn’t stop molesting his little sister, so his family sent him away. Whenever he came home to visit, he’d re-offend.
I asked him a lot of questions that unraveled a much sadder, much broader story: It started long before Sara was born. When he was all of 2 years old, Sonny’s maternal grandfather began molesting him, full penetration. This went on until he was about 12 years old when the abuse was finally discovered. I was mystified. How could this go on for so long? The obvious question was, “Why didn’t you tell your mother?” What he said landed like a nail in Christ’s foot: “I thought she was in on it,” he said. “She put me with her father every day, so I just thought it was part of a deal they had.” Sonny became his grandfather’s personal sex toy for 10 of his first 12 years in life and believed his own mother put him up for it. Even though the facts proved it untrue, it didn’t matter. Like most belief systems it reeked of a lie. When his mother found out, she immediately pressed charges and had her father imprisoned. Too late though. The dye was cast.
Sonny wasn’t a monster. Grandpa was the monster.
I wonder who was grandpa’s monster?
When Sara was born, Sonny started doing to her what grandpa taught him. Unconsciously trying to re-work the problem, as human beings tend to do. My heart broke with this kid. On behalf of Sara—on behalf of the whole world—I couldn’t stop thinking about how to help him. My fantasies of rescuing him were dashed when I came to work one morning and learned he’d been transferred (for the umpteenth time) to a more intensive treatment center for “treatment-resistant sex offenders”. I didn’t feel like I’d had enough time with him and filed away a fantasy of finding him so we could continue. The only message he ever got in his life was that he was worthless. That he was only there for other people’s pleasure. That his behavior—which he didn’t understand in the least—made him unfit for society. That he was repulsive. That he didn’t even deserve his own mother’s love. That his life had no value. He thought he was a burden on the world. That he was better off dead. So he took care of it. Within weeks I got the news: Sonny hung himself while in treatment.
Here’s one person who’ll never get to say “Me Too”. Instead, Sonny’s hashtag was #fuckmylife. Perhaps we can put an honorary #metoo on his grave, but I doubt anybody knows where he’s buried anymore. The dandelions that sprouted atop his grave knew more freedom than Sonny ever did.
The #metoo movement will one day go down in history as a significant landmark in our nation’s history. God bless all the women who turned the tables on a candidate who shamelessly bragged about “grab them by the pussy” and talked about how he can get away with it. It would be supremely naïve to think that could happen in a nation full of women empowered to stand up and stomp their feet to the tune of #timesup. It makes sense that every man fingered by women in this movement would be cast as a monster. But when I look at a man who’s being stoned to death by a million fingers, I don’t see a monster. I see a little boy being molested by some grown-up he thought he could trust. Little boys like that always grow up to express some sort of behavior problem. The Victim-Perpetrator dynamic dirty-dances like the Montagues & Capulets. Without one, there is no other. Deny one and it rises up like a zombie reaching up from a grave. Jung called that “shadow”, a toxic cocktail mixed with denial, repression, and disowning of one’s own darkness.
If one works with boys and men long enough, you come to realize that most men walk inside of Bluebeard‘s castle, locking all the bodies away in a secret cavern in their minds. They throw away the bloody key because of the fear of being discovered. You find out that on average, 1 out of 5 boys will be molested before he’s 18. That’s a conservative stat because we’ll never know how many boys are being molested. Most of these boys will never talk about that.
I once worked with another boy with a similar history as Sonny’s. He was diagnosed with “elective mutism”. We measured progress by how many words he uttered in our sessions. After 9 months I think we got to 6, none of them coming close to articulating the unspeakable horror living inside him. Without adequate love, concern and the tending of our boy’s fragile psyches many of them will defend against sexual trauma by shoving it in a locked room. If possible, they’ll become aggressive. By the time they’re 12 and you send them to counseling its often too late. Bloody keys get slippery and fall through the cracks. Such boys get their emotions on lockdown. Such boys are likely to cover the mouths of girls who are fighting to get free. Such boys are likely to grow up with a knack for silencing anyone who can ever again make them uncomfortable. Such boys will lock their hearts down so tight you might forget there’s a vulnerable, sweet little boy in their begging for life. Such boys often become men easy to hate.
When you look at a man and see a monster, you don’t really see him. You see him through the lens of your own trauma, and in doing that you limit him from being anything else. Right now stoning powerful men with accusations makes people feel better, especially if they deserve it. In the long run, though our healing as a people will require seeing each other thru a lens informed by clarity rather than trauma.
The artist Chasity Fincher recently said, “What you can’t say owns you.” Yes. If we’re to raise our boys to become safe men, we need to create containers where ALL of us can say what owns us. If we are sincere about wanting to heal our society, even perpetrators have to be given a forum to unlock the room harboring all their terrifying secrets. We owe it to ourselves and our children to institutionalize emotional intelligence training for ALL children, and to train this with the same vigor as math & science.
There are more Sonny’s out there than you know. For every Sara, there is a Sonny, and for every Sonny there is a Grandpa who was once a Sonny.
Finally, if Sara is reading this, I wish I could have done something to change things for you. I wish all my words didn’t fall short. I pray that your life unfolded peacefully & joyfully for you. I pray that the tragic cycle in your family ended with Sonny, and you found healing, peace and joy in your life. I pray that the trauma you suffered became a springboard for great things in your life, for your gifts to shine in this world. And I pray that throughout this era of #metoo, you are surrounded by warm loving arms to hold you and give you strength.
• If you have been a victim of a sex crime, the following links can help you: https://www.revealnews.org/article/reporting-to-police-a-guide-for-victims-of-sexual-abuse/
• If you are a man struggling with persistent inappropriate sexual urges or behaviors, please click this link for help: https://www.stopitnow.org/help-guidance/faqs/faqs-on-sex-offender-treatment
• If you think you might be struggling with sex addiction or compulsivity: https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline
• If you are concerned about increasing the emotional intelligence of your son, please check out the following link for progressive work being done in this area: http://boystomen.org/
—
What’s your take on what you just read? Comment below or write a response and submit to us your own point of view or reaction here at the red box, below, which links to our submissions portal.
◊♦◊
Get the best stories from The Good Men Project delivered straight to your inbox, here.
◊♦◊
Sign up for our Writing Prompts email to receive writing inspiration in your inbox twice per week.
♦◊♦
We have pioneered the largest worldwide conversation about what it means to be a good man in the 21st century. Your support of our work is inspiring and invaluable.
If you believe in the work we are doing here at The Good Men Project, please join us as a Premium Member, today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
A $50 annual membership gives you an all-access pass. You can be a part of every call, group, class, and community.
A $25 annual membership gives you access to one class, one Social Interest group, and our online communities.
A $12 annual membership gives you access to our Friday calls with the publisher, our online community.
Register New Account
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—
Photo credit: Wikimedia, public domain