Strong At The Heart

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

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.