Shine a Little Light

He didn't think he did anything wrong. That she was the one who abused him, taunted him, tempted him to do the things he did. It was always consensual sex, not rape. It was always her yelling at him and hitting him, not him punching her, or hitting her in the chest, or holding her by her wrists over a balcony.

But one of the things that got me the most were the letters and cards he continued to send her over the years, telling her how sorry he was, how much he missed her, how much he loved her. That if they got together again, it would be alright. That they would make a lot of money.

This was all from the new Lorena Bobbitt documentary produced by Jordan Peele, a four-part series that investigates the events of 1993. Yes, the part where she cuts his penis off is the sensational part most of us remember, but for anyone who wants to try and understand the cycle of abuse and domestic violence, I highly recommend watching it. I remember following the case back then, and even though I'm an awareness and prevention advocate now, and I had no idea of the full story. 

Watching it reminded me of my birth father and the cycle of abuse my sister and I witnessed when we were young children. How he would drink way too much and then twist things and tell our mother she brought this on herself, all his angry screaming at her, his horrible degrading words, and the escalating physical abuse she suffered over the 12 years they were together. I was 9 years old and my sister 7 when she finally separated from him. 

He would always apologize afterwards, and say he'd do better, but it never changed. Even after they divorced and he moved away, he'd tell us it was as much our mom's fault than his, and that he never really hurt her. But we saw the bruises, we heard the fights. We knew. We hated having to see him after that when it was his visitation time, and we eventually told a judge that we didn't want to see him anymore. 

I remember asking my mom years later why she stayed with him so long, why she put up with it all. We were young and scared way back then, and although he never abused us, he was never really dad to us. He thought I was a sissy and he ignored my sister. I never really knew him other than the drunken tirades and the violence.

She told us she didn't know what else to do. She had us and was dependent on his income; she didn't have a regular job until later in the marriage and after the divorce. Her family felt that it was between her and her husband, and it was none of their business. Her best friend encouraged her to leave, but had her own broken marriages and kids to take care of. For years our mom believed him when he said he was sorry and would never hurt her again. She had struck back at times, and there were times she wanted to kill him, but would never actually do it. 

And for the first years after their divorce, he did tell her more than once that he'd do better if they got back together, even though he was already in another relationship and our mom had remarried for the first time, another unfortunate abusive relationship for all of us. 

1 in 4 women and 1 in 9 men experience severe intimate partner physical violence, intimate partner contact sexual violence, and/or intimate partner stalking with impacts such as injury, fearfulness, post-traumatic stress disorder, use of victim services, contraction of sexually transmitted diseases, etc.

I wish it were as easy as saying "Stop! Leave! Help!" like Kidpower Teenpower Fullpower recommends, a nonprofit organization that teaches kids and adults how to prevent kidnappings, abuse, bullying and sexual assault. My wife works for Kidpower and is a program coordinator and instructor, and I've also helped by dressing in a padded suit so that kids and adults can practice last-resort self-defense skills. Telling an attacker to "Stop! Leave! Help!" can take away his privacy and control while you're getting the attention of other people, and you're also creating uncertainty in the mind of the attacker, according to Kidpower Executive Director and Founder, Irene van der Zande.

It's difficult to have to deal with harassment and bullying and abuse and assault, but Kidpower does work -- it's helped millions of people of all ages become more aware and protect themselves with empowering safety skills.

However, systemic gender bias and a patriarchal power structure has complicated things for women in abusive relationships for a very long time; we continue to protect the male predators, especially the white men. We see it play out again and again in the news, and those are only the high-profile cases that are actually reported. He said, she said, and today unfortunately, the he said still trumps.

That's why we need to continue to challenge the status quo, to believe those who have the courage to come forward, to find our voices and shine a little light for those who can't find theirs, and to empower them all with the safety skills they need to end the violence in their lives.

Check out this ABC news video with 

Kidpower Executive Director and Founder, Irene van der Zande, and my wife!

The Act with the Artist

"Poets, priests and politicians
Have words to thank for their positions
Words that scream for your submission
And no-one's jamming their transmission..."

-The Police, De Do Do Do De Da Da Da

The tape recorder had a single speaker with monophonic sound. That's all we had, but it worked. My sister and I rode in the back of the truck, a camper shell around us, and we played Michael Jackson's Off the Wall cassette over and over again while our parents drove us to the coast for summer vacation the summer of 1980. The album had been released the year before and it was one of our mom's favorites, too. Growing up she had given us our love of music, from rock and roll to soul and rhythm and blues to pop and more.

So many fond memories throughout my life related to music. And many not-so-fond either. Music that's inextricably linked to our living, reminding us again and again of where we've been, what we've seen, what we've done -- and what we hoped for and still do.

Then came the allegations in the early 1990's that Michael Jackson sexual abused children. The news sadden me then, and yet I continued to compartmentalize it from my memories of his music, even after growing up with sexual abuse myself.

Why would I stop listening? His musical talents have nothing to do with his fallibility and his alleged crimes. Right? I reconciled in my mind over time and never felt bad about listening to his songs again and again since. And yet, I would never fully forgive the man who abused me, never wanting to associate with any memory of him.

How many perpetrators have we had throughout history -- from painters to writers to musicians to politicians to religious and sports figures -- all of whose brilliance many still celebrate today?

But then my wife and I had children and every year they get older the above gets harder to reconcile. Because they're going to ask us -- why?

• Why do I keep listening to Michael after what we now know? (The same for those who keep listening to R. Kelly after what they now know.)
• Why do people still revere presidents who sexually harass and bully (note the plural here)?
• Why do people still go to church after priests and ministers sexually assault women and children?
• Why do I still watch football when the NFL goes light on players who commit domestic violence so they can keep playing to win (and make money)?

The list goes on and on. And even I bang my head against the wall with split indifference and well-meaning bias, trying desperately to understand the why of others and myself.

So, why do I still listen to Michael Jackson? My wife has decided she can't do it anymore, and now I find myself removing his songs from playlists, even the playlist we made for Bryce when she was born (we did one for Beatrice when she was born and one for us when we got married, but Bryce's is the only one with a Michael Jackson song).

As I've written before, I didn't have any evidence when the sexual abuse happened to me, but my mantra is still clear and definitive: I believe survivors; I am a survivor. Yet, what I grapple with is how I and others compartmentalize some of these examples over others, and how we will answer these same questions from our children when they're older. Will I forgo any and all forgiveness for those who fail around me, especially when the complexity of failure crosses over into abuse and assault? Or will I continue forgive some without forgetting and without associating the act with the artist? Or is forgiveness ultimately a death that gives us life renewed without compromise?

They will ask us soon enough.

Stop! Or Mama and Daddy will mop the floor with you

When you're broken, all you want is to believe.

To believe that there are adults in your life who are trustworthy and will take care of, protect you and not harm you.

That's what we believed when my sister and I were children, what our mom believed. Shame, resentment and anger years later that almost led to a vengeful incident.

Almost.

And then the most recent sad news: The charges against ex-Penn State coach Jerry Sandusky include:

40 charges of sexual abuse involving at least eight alleged victims and spanning 15 years, beginning in 1994.

This from supposedly helping kids from The Second Mile organization, many from single-parent homes and in need of another adult in their lives.

When you're broken, all you want is to believe you can be safe.

Sure, the charges are alleged until proven, but we've seen similar stories over the years, all involving men and women in positions of power and beloved trust, sometimes even in the name of God, supposedly helping the broken young ones (and those who aren't even broken, yet), but then abusing that power while abusing the children.

A report of child abuse is made every ten seconds. And that's only what's reported. Statistically speaking, child abuse occurs at every socioeconomic level, across ethnic and cultural lines, within all religions and at all levels of education.

Tragic. It hurts my heart when I hear these things. I've been there and we'll do whatever it takes to protect our girls.

The Mama's been teaching Beatrice what's appropriate and what's not with other older kids and adults -- language, touching, etc.

And then just last week, we thought Bea might have a urinary tract infection and the Mama took her our doctor. Of course the doctor had to check out her private parts, and Bea was very quiet, watching Mama the whole time.

The eye-lock trust reassured Beatrice that this was appropriate and the doctor was only seeing if she sick.

So there you go, girl:

"What do you do if someone is doing something to you they shouldn't be?"

"Stop!"

Or Mama and Daddy will mop the floor with you and other colorful expressions you'd rather not experience first hand.

Nobody messes with the B-hive, baby. Nobody.

 

We can be passionate sans the violence, kids. Personal leadership starts at home in the mirror.

In 1999 I was on a business trip in Paris. Seriously. I remember the morning before we left for Barcelona, the second leg of the business trip (seriously), I looked out my hotel room window and five floors below I witnessed an unsettling scene.

A man and a woman were arguing. They stood on the sidewalk, hands and arms gesticulating, and I caught bits and pieces of shrill French swirling in the air around me like hot ash.

The man grabbed the woman's arm and shook her. She wrenched herself free and got in a small white car.

The man continued yelling at her through the closed car window. I expected her to peel out and away from the curb, but she didn't. He kept yelling.

And then he kicked the side of the door. Full force.

And he kicked it again.

And again.

And then he broke the window.

That's when the thought finally slapped my mind across its face that I should do something:

A) Call the police.
B) Call the lobby to call the police.
C) Go downstairs and help her.

I looked up in this split-second decision-making haze, and when I Iooked down again, the car and the man were gone.

The one other thing I noticed during this violent exchange was the fact that no one stopped, no one paid any attention.

Mercy me. There's the cultural cliché that Parisians and other romantic language folk are passionate to the point of the rational breaking down and physical restraint becoming mired in emotional reactivity.

But no one even paid attention.

According to the Family Violence Prevention Fund site:

The United Nations Development Fund for Women estimates that at least one of every three women globally will be beaten, raped or otherwise abused during her lifetime. In most cases, the abuser is a member of her own family.

And then closer to home:

Nearly one in four women in the United States reports experiencing violence by a current or former spouse or boyfriend at some point in her life.

Two of those four could be my daughters someday, but not without me raising Cain along the way.

We can be passionate sans the violence, kids. Personal leadership starts at home in the mirror.

If you're interested, you can read a post I did at the TalentCulture titled Taking A Look Into The Leadership Mirror:

Oh, vanity.

We look in the mirror and just want to look great. Looking great makes us feel great and ready to face the world.

But as we linger over our reflection a little longer, we begin to notice blemishes, scars, discolorations, imperfections of the tiniest kind that initially only we can see.

That perception of our own imperfect reflection bleeds inward; what kind of a person are we? What kind of a husband, wife, family, friend, employee, manager, business owner, or CEO are we? What is our state of being?

We try. We fail. We learn. Or we don’t.

Linger long enough in front of that mirror and you ask yourself: How responsible am I today for me and my role in today’s highly integrated personal and professional miasmic universe?

Hopefully the answer is “very responsible.” We are leaders of self first, and there can be no in-between or settling for marginal personal responsibility, imperfections and all...

Read more here.

Because it's for our children, the malleable essence of us.

I'm going to take this time to work on healing my family and be a better husband and father.

Tiger Woods was quoted as saying something to that effect recently.

Really. And it's been bugging the crap out of me ever since.

Why didn't he make the time before all this? Before the alleged affairs and his supersonic fall from grace?

We don't know for sure what specifically may or may have happened over the years in Tiger's life. Or in Mark Sanford's life. Or in John Edward's life. Or in too many others.

But we do know of their infidelities.

I know my birth father was a big womanizer when he was married to my mom, along with being an abuser.

I had my own bouts of under-the-table behavior while pretending to be the golden boy everybody loved, crashing and burning like the rest of these wretches.

We get caught. Maybe we feel pangs of guilt prior, maybe not. Maybe its the holidays that drives sentimentality to the surface.

That's the way it was with my birth father.

I'm so sorry. I'm going to stop drinking and be a better husband and father.

Merry Christmas, right? But nothing ever changed post December 25. The same behaviors resumed - the affairs, the domestic violence, the drinking.

One of my dear friends posted this quote in Facebook this morning:

"The boy who is going to make a great man must not make up his mind merely to overcome a thousand obstacles, but to win in spite of a thousand repulses and defeats."

--Theodore Roosevelt

If more fathers aspired to be better, took responsibility and made actual changes in their lives for the better - learned to trump their genes - then the thousand repulses and defeats would be worthwhile to their families, even if their marriages can't withstand it.

Because it's for our children, the malleable essence of us.

Merry Christmas Daddies. Live life like it's golden.

We've got to increase the production of purple elevate patches pronto

I pledge to raise awareness and intervene when necessary.

Because I grew up with it. No one should grow up with it. Sadly I've had too many dear friends and family that have.

Many times I've wondered why my birth father grew up to be such a train wreck. Where were the early markers? What catalysts propelled him to a life of anger, alcoholism and domestic violence? As far as I knew there wasn't any physical violence for him growing up except maybe some corporal punishment. There were definitely emotional distance and dysfunction issues with his mom, but both he and his brother had the support and love of their sister.

And what about my first step-father? Sure he was bipolar and refused to take his meds, but what drove him to abuse my mother, sister and me? His abuse was much more mysterious and insidious than my birth father's, but abuse is abuse and violence is violence. Thank God we were only with him for less than three years.

I just don't frickin' know. So happy to have the father I have now, that much is clear.

How do we break the cycle of violence? Prosecuting the abusers and incarcerating is the end game for many repeat offenders, and as it should be. And even in this dismal economy where victim services and domestic violence programs and shelters are scrambling for every penny to stay alive, what are we doing to break the cycle on the front end?

October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month. My good friend, Kim Wells, the Executive Director of the Corporate Alliance to End Partner Violence (CAEPV), posted 10 Things You Can Do About Domestic Violence on her blog Domestic Violence and the Workplace. Even though I haven't met Kim in person yet, I call her my good friend because of our online connection and common cause that calls for healthy non-violent relationships.

Here are her 10 things you can do:

1) Sign the MADE petition to get dating violence curriculum in schools. Go to http://www.loveisnotabuse.com/made (did that)

2) Find out more about domestic violence. Go to http://www.clicktoempower.org/ and see the stories of survivors and what made the difference for them. (you must visit this site)

3) Go to http://www.avon.com/ and buy the Women's Empowerment Necklace or Bracelet. (I ordered a bunch of the Speak Out Against Domestic Violence Unisex Bracelet)

4) Learn about how domestic violence impacts your workplace by visiting http://www.caepv.org/. (great resources here)

5) Remember the National Domestic Violence Hotline Number: 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) or http://www.ndvh.org/. You can call to help others or yourself.

6) Donate your old cell phone (any brand) at any Verizon Wireless store or use free mailing label www.verizonwireless.com/hopelinemailinglabel (did that)

7) Learn to talk to your kids about healthy relationships by downloading tip booklets from http://www.loveisnotabuse.com/ (will do this)

8) Try to understand what happens in DV and how it impacts people. Check out http://www.domesticviolenceworkplace.blogspot.com/. And comment! (subscribe to this blog)

9) Don't ask "Why would that victim go back?" ask "Why would a person hit or abuse someone they love?"

10) Be safe, healthy and happy in your own relationships. Because you matter. And you deserve it. And you are very, very precious.

Here are some quick facts from Click To Empower:

• Each day in the U.S., three women die as result of domestic violence.
• More than one in four women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime.
• More than three out of four Americans know someone who is or has been a victim of domestic violence.

The last bullet is where we can help on the front end. Don't pretend it isn't happening. Be responsible and help others to learn personal responsibility and the consequences of not doing so or the cycle will never be broken. I've intervened and it's painful and can cause horrendous relationship rifts. I would do it again and again if I thought it would make a difference for the better.

I believe it does.

I have hope it can so that my Beatrice can grow up strong and safe in the knowledge that most people are good with healthy relationships. We can get there. As Kim wrote, we are all very, very precious - and I know my baby is.

Everyday should be domestic violence awareness day. We've got to help those in abusive relationships model healthy family relationships regardless if they're straight or gay, men or women, children or adults, or whatever they're religious and cultural backgrounds are. In the societal context of today, we do not and cannot accept the norm.

In fact, it's more than literal physical abuse. It's those in relationships who abuse drugs and alcohol, who have mental illness, who verbally abuse - anything destructive to self, family and community.

We've got to increase the production of purple elevate patches pronto.

I pledge to raise awareness and intervene when necessary. That's what I'm pledging on my birthday today.