Strong At The Heart

There’s a cool thing coming up. On Tuesday, May 2nd, at 9 a.m. PST, Jessie Dylan will interview me about Strong at the Heart on his show, The Good Life. You can hear it on Sirius Satellite Radio 114 or listen on the Internet. Canadians can listen on sevral station across the country.

For a week following, it will be archived online.

Here’s a little taste of what I saw in Boston last week. Pretty amazing, isn’t it, when spring does hit?

photo by Rick Birkenshaw

This image is pulled from a postcard, but it really did look just like this with magnolias blooming like crazy and the tender green of new growth everywhere.

We finally had a sunny day here. Peter and I rode bikes inland and halfway up Korbel Hill. I’m working back into it.

Yesterday I flew in–and out–of Redding, California to give the keynote address at a Take Back the Day/Take Back the Night event. It was a day of contrasts that began when I flew from the fog bound coast (highs in the 50’s) to Redding where the high was 91 degrees and sunny. My sun starved skin soaked up the vitamin D along the American River which was roaring.

The event was held at the absolutely gorgeous Redding City Hall. Outside there were balloons and booths, toys for kids, food, music, dancing and a holiday spirit. Yet the event purpose of the event was to address violent crime and abuse in the greater Redding community.

There was quite a turnout and a lot of information at the booths. It was good to see all the resources there, and the networking that was being done. At the Women’s Refuge booth I picked up this button:

Rebecca Tumlinson had told me that they were observing Jeans for Justice Day, so I had on my presenter suit from the waist up and instead of dressy pants, wore my somewhat holey jeans and clogs. This button was the perfect accessory.

jeans for justice

Anti-rape groups hold Jeans for Justice Day (usually April 27) where people wear denim to show solidarity for rape victim/survivors world wide. It began in 1999 when the Italian High Court overturned a rape conviction because the victim was wearing jeans at the time of the attack.

The ruling contained these words, “It is common knowledge … that jeans cannot even be partly removed without the effective help of the person wearing them … and it is impossible if the victim is struggling with all her might.”

In outrage, Europeans took to the streets wearing jeans (and carrying signs) to express their solidarity with the rape survivor in the case. I wondered if those who planned this event worldwide realize that–at least here in the U. S.–two thirds of the vicitms of reported rapes are under 18 years old and half of those under twelve. We’ve framed rape as a crime against women, but it is predominantly a crime against kids.

It was a hot day in Redding, but a lot of people wore jeans.

evening event

Leila Nankervis of Barnes and Noble had set up an extensive display on Strong at the Heart and there was a moving ceremony, dedicating a quiet part of the grounds as a Survivor’s Garden to commemorate victims of violence.

Then we went into the city council chambers for a short program. Preceding me were four victim witnesses who talked about the impact of crime on their families. I was to talk for a lot longer on healing. But you know how it goes. One woman spoke so eloquently about the pain of losing her oldest daughter to a drunk driver, her younger daughter read a school paper she’d written about her sister’s death, another woman told her story about how difficult it was to extricate herself from a violent relationship, and a fourth described how she had tried to protect herself from rape, but coudn’t, and how that had led her to work as a survivor advocate.

There was so much grief in the room. Standing up to the podium to speak on healing, I thought how puny any words I could say were compared to a mother’s grief. I spoke, though, and showed pictures, focusing on the ways that Jonathan and Sheena had moved through the devastating time after being abused and how they reclaimed their lives. Jenner’s story I told, in part, because it so clearly shows how events like Take Back the Night can help survivors heal. I framed the remarks in terms of the role of community in healing because I saw that happening right in front of me, through this event, through the cooperation of so many people, and through the Survivor’s Garden.

A candlelight march followed.

Thanks to Angela Fitzgerald, Rebecca Tumlinson, and Jennifer Hardy of Shasta County Victim Witness for bringing me out and to Victim Witness, the Women’s Refuge, and the Domestic Violence Coordinating Council for putting on such a moving event.

Well, this is cool. I have an email from FSG, my publisher, that Strong at the Heart was chosen as a Skipping Stone Honor Book. Every year this multicultural children’s magazine choses roughly ten books to honor and Strong at the Heart is one of them this year. The links aren’t up yet, and I don’t have more information, but when I do I’ll post it here.

Yesterday’s event in Cambridge went so well despite the PowerPoint projector not showing up. A diverse audience came and after the presentation/discussion most of the audience stayed on for an open and engaging conversation that continued for another two hours. Discussion ranged from how race and class play into survivor experience to the corrosive effects of the pressure to “forgive.” There was humor, insight, disclosure, and a warm respect in the room. And something else, too, a sense of the strength and cohesion. This was despite the wide range of our experiences and viewpoints or maybe because of that and because people took risks to ask tough questions and to answer with candor.

There’s something very powerful that happens when we get together face-to-face.

One woman, at the very threshold of healing, rocked us with her humor and her strength. Mike Lew, author of two excellent books for men on healing from sexual abuse, deepened the conversation with insights from his many years in the field. (If you don’t know his books, check them out in the self-help section of my recommended books page or on his website. Titles: Victims No Longer, Leaping upon the Mountains.)

All in all a good event and a wonderful way to end the Boston Tour. Afterwards I had the pleasure of dinner with Annemarie Munn and today I’m staying with my dear friends in Framingham. Home soon.

The Harvard Take Back the Night Committee–as personified by Mallory Hellman–asked me to speak on survivor activism and my book. The event happened last night and it was great.

We met in the Kirkland Junior Commons Room, a very Harvard venue with tall paneled walls, mullioned windows, wing backed chairs set in conversational clusters, and august portraits on the walls. A friend of my son Ben met me there early and helped with the set up chairs, screen and projector. (Thanks, Dev!)

There was so much to say about the survivor movement, its birth in feminism, its glory days of conferences and newsletters like The Healing Woman, the time of contraction in the mid-1990’s, and the amazing work that people are carrying out now in a spirit that is broader and more inclusive. What it takes to do this work. Its rewards.

I had to tell it through the lens of my own experience, and for the first time I put that together as a coherent narrative. When I did (although I didn’t present all of this) it was an amazing parade of people and events spanning, for me, okay a life time, but as an activist the past two decades.

Much of what I did talk about was making the socially invisible visible and what it is like to do that work.

Some amazing people came–passionate, articulate, inquisitive. There were excellent questions, many of them around offenders. Who are they? How can we raise people differently? What can we do to help people change? When do you treat and when do you lock up someone up and throw away the key. These are critical questions and we don’t yet have definative answers. I could point to the work of Stop It Now!, offender treatment programs, and some studies. But so much work is yet to be done.

It was a good evening, satisfying, full. There’s always more I wish I’d said, the question I could have listened to more deeply…

This morning dawned bright and sunny and so warm. Real spring, I’d almost forgotten about shirt sleeve weather. In Northwestern California we’ve had cold rain for way too long. But here in Boston the locust trees are in bloom, the tulip trees are pink flames against the red brick buildings and gray slate roofs. I went out and bought myself a tee shirt and wore a skirt, just to feel the soft air.

Last night I arrived from California, after three flights, lugging the world’s heaviest carry-ons (ten copies of Strong at the Heart, just in case).

You should see the absolutely amazing place Mallory Hellman, of the Take Back the Night committee, found for me to stay. The Preacher’s Suite is at the top of Lowell House, a quintessential Harvard building of red brick with white trim and slate roof. Tucked up under the eaves is this eight bedroom suite. It’s crazy with doors and passageways and interconnecting rooms. I’ve claimed a bedroom with windows on two sides connected to a study with desk, Chinese lamp, wing backed chair and ottoman. A nice little set up.

It’s fascinating, in a place this old, to think about who lived here in the past, who stayed like me for a short while. I pick up these echoes. You just can’t help it.

After a morning at the computer doing business, I’m off to explore the Harvard Square area, find some groceries, and meet Annemarie Munn for lunch.

Tomorrow night is the book event here. I’ll be speaking on the survivor movement, and Strong at the Heart in that context. Harvard University, Kirkland Junior Commons Room, 6-8 p.m. Come on by, if you’re in the Boston area.

I’ll post a photo from the Black Oak Books event below. But first, here’s something just for fun. Akaya (cover girl) is one of my book buddies. While I was in the Bay Area she turned me on to a YA series that I just love. If you want to read a swashbuckling, escapist story about an irrepressible young woman, check out Bloody Jack by L. A. Meyer.

It’s the early 1800’s and starving street urchin Mary “Jacky” Faber masquerades as a boy to get work as a cabin boy on a British man o’ war. Jacky is a survivor in every sense of the word. She even fends off a pederast onboard ship (remember, he thinks she’s a boy). Actually, she does more than fend him off, she stabs him with her shiv and pushes him overboard. Things get complicated when she enters puberty but Jacky finds a way to deal with every dilemma except the huge crush she develops for one of her shipmates. It is really fun reading about an active, physical girl who just has to be herself. The details about sailing ships and life two hundred years ago are fascinating.

satellite radio

More good news: I just talked with the producer of The Good Life Show with Jesse Dylan. I’ll be interviewed about Strong at the Heart live with call-ins on Tuesday, May 2nd, at 9 a.m. Pacific Time. You can listen live on the web and on Sirius Channel 114.

black oak

Here we are after the book presentation. That’s Arturo (chapter 6) on the left, me, Akaya, and then Maria and Staci who are mentioned in Akaya’s story as important to her healing. In the background you can see Nancy Rubin who wrote Ask Me If I Care: Voices of an American High School.

The photo is by Pia Torelli who is an amazing photographer. For a visual treat, check out her website with journalistic as well as events photos.

Dear Readers–There’s a quiet little discussion going on in the comment section of the Black Oak blog entry from earlier this week. The latest entry is intriguing, but easily buried, so I want to post it here as well.

What happened is this. A mother and daughter came to the book event at Black Oak Books where I presented Jonathan and Sheena’s stories and what I learned in the process of writing the book, followed by a dynamite discussion with Akaya (cover girl), her support group and the audience.

On the way home, the teen told her mother that she’d been raped several years earlier, when she was twelve. The mom posted this experience on the blog. She wants readers to know that the book has an impact and that it opened communication between her and her daughter.

Now a therapist is commenting. She asked me to post her e-mail on the blog so I am putting it here:

Hi Carolyn,

That is a very moving letter with some important information. It always amazes me how the developmental issues that go with adolescence make it almost impossible for teens to see their parents as parents see themselves.

When I first read that her mother had been abused I assumed the daughter was sparing her mother’s feelings. Instead she assumed that her mother would feel about her the way she (the girl) felt about herself.

Some people theorize that survivors blame themselves as a means of gaining some control. It’s an interesting thought, but I don’t think it’s entirely true.

People’s reactions to the book intrigue me and there is a lot to learn from them. I’m not surprised the daughter said nothing about her being raped to her therapist. Kids hint and wait for you to speak the unspeakable. Their shame keeps them silent. Once you, as the therapist, say it, then it is out of hiding. Too many mental health practitioners think they will be “pushing” if they bring it up. I don’t think that is true unless they bring it up before a relationship has been established. I recall one mother who was having a terrible time with her 3 yr old boy. She couldn’t set limits on him at all and he was a tyrant. She was overwhelmed by him. She seemed actually scared of him. It finally dawned on me how much she was projecting onto this little boy and I asked her about the child’s conception. It was no surprise to hear he was the product of a rape. She would not have volunteered this information though. Everything changed after that. She was able to see him, not his perp father. Anyway, it is truly an adventure.
–Carmela

The live chat at Connect for Kids came off without a hitch. What a rush! People’s questions popped up on my computer screen, I keyed in answers as quickly as possible and sent them off.

The readership was great. Folks from all over the U. S. logged on and asked great questions. I got to most of them before the hour was up. You can read the transcript for yourself.

For the second time in less than a week and in a public forum somone raised the question of divided loyalites in sibling sexual abuse situations. This is such a tough issue and one I wish I could have covered in the book. I did do a dynamite interview with a young woman whose two older step brothers abused her, but for legal reasons I could not print her story. There’s so much more that needs to be done in this area. And we can have that discussion here. I can recommend Sasian as a resource and Carolyn Coman’s Bee and Jacky as a novel that explores some of the emotional territory.

If you have any doubts about the importance of putting a public face on healing from abuse, do check out the comment at the bottom of the Black Oak post below. A mother wrote in after the event with a very moving personal story of the impact of that night.

Pictures of the California events are coming, I promise. But today is my niece’s birthday (observed) and we are going to spend the day on a photo shoot.

Wow, what a night!

At dinner, before I was to speak on Strong at the Heart at Black Oak Books in Berkeley, Akaya said, “You’re not eating very much, honey.” I wasn’t. She and Staci and Maria, who were all about to present with me, were laughing and playing around with a plastic chicken that lays bubblegum eggs. I had that cold, shocky feeling when the body says, “In thirty minutes you’re going to have a microphone in your face and you’re going to be talking to a room full of strangers about sexual abuse. I’m not sure I’m down with this.”

At the bookstore, Jeremy had transformed the main floor into a seating area by moving the center bookcases and tables to the side. The projector was set up. And there were all those empty chairs.

Then people came. My college roommate Judy, Jeanne Pimentel who planned a party for afterwards, Arturo–and I hadn’t seen him since I photographed him drumming for the book!–Tif Renee the designer of this website, Aya de Leon of Youth Speaks, and so many other people. These weren’t strangers.

I was born in Berkeley, even the people I don’t know looked familiar.

Lewis Klausner began with a thoughtful introduction, saying that child sexual abuse is not just the concern of survivors, but of everyone. That this is our human problem and one we have to talk about, understand, and solve together.

I always start off nervous, but when it comes to telling the stories and showing the pictures, I get so into them that it feels like I am being carried by a swift, sure current. I do love my work. This time I chose to speak about Jonathan and Sheena’s stories because they both complimented and contrasted with what came next.

And that was a living part of the book: Akaya and her support group. The three women talked about the thirteen years they have been meeting and how they supported each other through the healing process and on into the rich, full lives they lead today. As they talked, they lived their words. They were spontaneous, loving and funny. They radiated health. You could see the joy, and also the depth of understanding and connection that they have acheived.

The audience asked great questions and the discussion flowed over into the store afterwards. Eventually I made my way down the street to the restaurant where Jeanne had set up a party. Okay, I am not going to describe the party, but I am going to say that the people who came were an an amazing group of articulate, insightful and earnest individuals. And totally open about abuse and discussing the whatever aspects of the evening interested them, from giving voice to young survivors to exchanging personal stories to talking with Arturo and Akaya about what it was like to be in the book.

It was a sweet and savory experience, the whole evening. And I am so grateful that we could do it together. Thank you all.

Here we are after the presentation. That’s Arturo (chapter 6) on the left, me, Akaya, and then Maria and Staci. In the background you can see Nancy Rubin who wrote Ask Me If I Care: Voices of an American High School.

The photo is by Pia Torelli who is an amazing photographer. For a visual treat, check out her website with journalistic as well as events photos.